Jack Sparrow lay in the spacious featherbed, reveling in the luxury of clean
linen. So nice. The crisp texture of the sun-dried fabric was an ecstasy not
often experienced aboard ship. He had found himself spending more time with
land beneath his arse than was his usual wont. However, the compensations
were generous. Yes, he could see himself growing accustomed to the decadence
of regular bathing opportunities, however surreptitious.
And the rum supply was rather significant, as well.
The first tiny streaks of dawn lightened the finely-wrought windowpanes to
his left. The pale, grey view of the harbor was virtually unobstructed by
ripples and imperfections in the glass. Maybe he could lift some of those,
for re-glazing the Pearl. A twinge of hunger was not enough to bring
him out of his blissful lassitude. Something tickled in his hair, but he
didn't bother to scratch. Even the burning in his backside was merely a
pleasant reminder of the waning night. Jack stretched, catlike, then rolled
over towards his right. On the far side of his motion, his elbow thumped
"Mind your trajectory," mumbled a sated James Norrington.
"Sorry, mate," Jack managed, and pulled back in the direction from which he
had just arrived, only to connect elbow to rib there as well. "Not much room
on the other side, neither."
"It's not as if I could move over any farther," protested Elizabeth. "The
bloody bed's not nearly big enough for you hulking, huge fellows."
"I fail to recall hearing any complaints about size," Jack teased,
and caressed the curve of bosom with a gentle fingertip, "until this very
"Aaah!" cried Elizabeth, batting away his hand. "No tickling! It's in the
"And what do the bloody articles have to say," Jack pointed out, "about
those who commandeer more than their fair share of the bed's premises?"
"I wonder what my father-in-law will say," Will said, clearing his throat
nervously, "when he hears I've commissioned a larger bed?"
"Aye, perhaps there'll be difficult questions to answer then." An evil grin
lit Jack's face, and he rolled to his side carefully, and began slowly
walking fingers up James' chest. "Perhaps he'd ask if it were big enough to
add one more to our merry band?"
A shocked silence fell.
Elizabeth was the first to recover. "JACK!" She pelted him with the pillow
that had cradled her head.
Not long after, the first of the servants stirred, and set about the tasks
of preparing the Governor's Mansion for the bustle of the new day. Fresh
tapers placed in the candelabra. Firewood lit beneath the coppers, for it
was wash day once again, and the endless starching and ironing and folding
of the sheets. Ever since the Governor's family had expanded by a
son-in-law, the workload of the laundry maids had increased dramatically.
The staff of the scullery too, found the breakfast trays increasingly
denuded of victuals, no matter how heavily they were burdened with
provender. The bride and groom were certainly...active in their pursuit of
consumation of their union.
But none felt it wise to intrude on the muffled thumpings and groanings,
emanating from the northern wing where the Governor's daughter and her
husband resided. Perhaps all that food was going to growing an heir for the
Governor. Allowances should be made.
After all, they were only newly wed.