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TAKE ME AWAY Author: Alexes Disclaimer: I sadly don’t own Pirates of the Caribbean. Summary: You and Jack become friends at an early age, and eventually fall in love. But what happens when Jack mysteriously disappears and you are forced to marry another man? * * * * * CHAPTER 1 - The First Meeting You sit on your bed, playing with your doll, Marie. The bed is much different from your room; while the walls and dressers are painted pink and adorned with bows and frills, your bedspread is less ornate, being a simple white. The drastic difference in design is caused by the fact that your mother designed your nursery, but she died, forcing your father, who has no fashion sense, to redecorate your room as you grew older. So, most of your clothes when you grew up didn’t match or were the wrong size. Finally, he just hired a maid to do all the shopping for you, but the furniture was left to him. It was hard spending the eight years of your life without a mother. While your two older brothers had some memories of her, you had none. Her name was Katherine Taylor, and she had died giving birth to you. She was so sure that you were going to be a girl, and had already picked out a name for you: Eleanor, Ella for short. After you were born and she passed on, your father decided to do the only proper thing and name you after your mother. However, he chose to honor his wife’s wish and named you Katherine Eleanor Taylor, and everyone called you Ella. “Hey Ella!” someone calls from your doorway. You look up from playing to see your two brothers, George and Peter, walk in to your room. “What are you playing with?” George asks, looking down at you. “Marie,” you answer simply. Peter walks up and looks down at you with an evil smile on his face. “Can we play too?” Before you can answer, Peter sweeps down and grabs your doll from your hands. “Hey George, catch!” he tells his older brother. George runs to the other side of the room, and the two begin tossing your doll between them. “Hey give her back!” you scream. You stand between them and raise your hands in the air in hopes of catching Marie, but she manages to fly an inch above your outstretched fingertips. Your attempt to get your prized possession back only makes your brothers laugh at you. You look at Peter and fold your arms. “Peter, give her back right now or else!” He throws the doll over your head again, unfazed by your apparent anger. “Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it, shorty?” You look up at him, your face scrunching up. He stares at you confused, and almost gets hit in the head by your toy when George throws it back at him. Suddenly, you get down on your knees and start wailing. Your brothers stop what they are doing and run over to you, trying to get you to shut up before your dad comes in. Unfortunately, your dad is mere feet away from your room, and rushes in to see what’s wrong. He frowns when he sees your brothers surrounding you and holding your doll. “What’s going on here?” he asks in a stern tone. “Dad, it’s nothing-” “We were just having some fun-” “Shut up you two!” he bellows at them. They comply without complaint. “Now Ella.” He turns to you, speaking more softly than he did at your brothers. “What happened?” “Well,” you say, momentarily pausing your fit, “I was sitting in here playing with my doll-” sniff, “-when George and Peter came in,” you point at them for effect, “took my doll and… and… they started throwing her over my head even when I asked them to have it back!” You put your face in your hands and continue the crying act that you started earlier. Your father turns from you and faces his sons, who are both avoiding his eyes. “Give Ella her doll back,” your father says sternly. Peter, who is still looking down, stretches his arm out in the general direction of you, and you grab Marie out of his hand. “Now, tell her you’re sorry.” “Sorry,” the two of them grumble under their breath. “Now, get out of here.” They are more then happy to comply, scurrying out of the room like dogs with their tails between their legs. Your father looks down at you, where you have already started playing again. “Are you going to be fine now?” he asks you. “Yes daddy,” you reply. He gives you a kiss on the cheek and walks out of the room. You continue playing on the floor with your doll, but after a couple of minutes, you start to get bored. A large laugh from outside catches your attention, and you walk to the window to see your two brothers having fun outside. Intrigued, you race out of your room, down the stairs, and out the front door. Your brothers look up at the sound of the large door closing, but the sight of you shifts their attention back to the line of ants that were occupying their interest earlier. You walk over to them and stare over their shoulders. “Whatcha doin?” you ask them. Your brothers choose to ignore you in hopes that you’ll leave them alone, but you don’t catch their hint and continue looking over their shoulders. After a minute without anyone talking and you still there, Peter turns to George and says, “Let’s get out of here.” The two of them walk towards the woods at the back of the property, and you follow. They increase their speed, and you mimic to keep up. When they see that there’s no getting rid of you, they start to run. At first you meet their pace, but being younger and wearing a skirt puts you at a disadvantage, causing the distance between you and your brothers to lengthen until you are only at the stables by the time they disappear in to the trees. You finally give up and sit down in the grass, but a sound from the stables makes you stand back up. The sound comes again; it is definitely not the horses. You walk over to the stable door and look in, but jump out of the way when a ten-year-old boy exits. You stare at him curiously because you have never seen him around here before. He seems to have not noticed you and lifts up a sack of horse feed to bring to the stable. You follow him curiously and watch him work. When he comes back out, you decide to talk to him. “Hey, I’m Ella. What’s your name?” The boy continues to ignore you and picks up the next sack to transfer to the barn. You follow him and ask louder, “What’s your name?” He doesn’t respond and places the sack on top of the other one, and walks right past you. You say louder, “What is your-” “I heard you the first time,” he replies, not turning back to look at you. “Then why didn’t you answer me when I asked you?” you question him. “Can’t you see I’m trying to work here?” he asks rather irritably as he picks up another sack. “Well, when you’re done, can you play with me?” “Don’t you have some dolls to play with or something?” “Do you always answer a question with another question?” He puts down the sack and looks at you for the first time. He thinks for a minute and then says, “I should be done in about ten minutes, and after that, I have to check in with Karl. But once I’m done with that, I’ll play with you.” “Thanks,” you say. You’re about to leave, but stop. “I forgot something.” You turn around. The boy looks up at you quizzically. “You never told me your name.” “My name’s Jack. Jack Miller.” * * * * “So Jack, why are you working here?” you ask him. You and Jack walk through the horse pasture talking until you can think up something to do. “Well, my mother,” he thinks for the right word, “left, and so it’s just me and my dad. He works here too. With my mom gone and not working, we were short on money, so my dad asked your father if I could have a job. He said yes, so here I am,” he concluded. “Wow. I’m sorry,” you truthfully replied. “It’s no big deal.” You don’t continue the subject, seeing that he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. “So, what do you want to do?” “I usually pretend I’m a pirate,” he says, slightly blushing. You give him a confused look. “A pirate?” you ask. “Yeah!” He looks at your expression. “You do know what a pirate is, don’t you?” You shake your head. “Okay, a pirate is about the coolest person ever! They sail on ships and fight with swords and do whatever they want to!” “That’s interesting,” you say. “But how are we supposed to be them?” “Easy.” He looks around and spots a stick. “Here, this is your sword.” He breaks the stick in half and offers you a piece, keeping the other. You take the stick and hold it awkwardly in your hand. “Now we start sailing!” “But where’s our ship?” “You’re standing on it!” he yells out of excitement. “Look! Here’s the wheel.” He walks a couple of feet over and pretends to be turning a large wooden steering wheel. “Now, get to work!” At first, you don’t know what to do, but since your dad’s a merchant, you’ve been around ships and figure sailing a pirate ship is no different than one of your father’s ships. Soon, both of you are really into your game, and are disappointed when Jack’s father calls him from the other side of the field. “Will I see you tomorrow Jack?” you ask. You’re sad to see him go, since he is your only friend. “Yeah, it was fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turns his back to you and starts running over to his father, his brown hair bobbing up and down. “Bye!” you yell, waving at his retreating back. You turn around and head back home, bored again. * * * * * CHAPTER 2 - Snowball Fights You trudge through the snow with a large fur-lined cloak on, thick boots, and a pad and pencil tucked under your arm. It is winter, and you are waking over to the secret spot you and Jack found in the woods when you were 9. It’s nothing special, only a small clearing encircled by trees, but ever since you two found it, it has been your meeting place. You weave through the evergreens until you arrive at the clearing. Jack isn’t here yet, so you decide to start drawing. This year, for your eleventh birthday, your father gave you a sketchbook and a pencil, and ever since you have been doodling every single chance you get. You move the snow underneath your feet so the frozen ground is exposed. You sit down on the spot you cleared and open up your pad to a clean sheet of paper. Now, all you have to do is find something to draw. You look around the clearing, unconsciously drumming your pencil against the paper. Your eyes land on a frost covered holly bush. Perfect. You eagerly put your pencil on the paper and start drawing. You are so engrossed in your artwork that you don’t hear the crunching of snow behind you. “Hello,” someone says, making you jump. You look up and see Jack smiling mischievously above you. “Jack Miller, that wasn’t very nice,” you say, putting down your paper and pencil and standing up. You turn around to face him, but are met with a snowball thrown at your face. You wipe the slush off and give Jack the death glare, which makes him step back. “Jack, you will rue the day that you threw that snowball at me.” You bend down and roll up a handful of snow and turn to face Jack. But, being the smart person he is, he had run away. You look down at the ground and smile. A set of footprints led to a tree a little ways away. You quietly walk to the tree and jump behind it. “Aha!” you yell out triumphantly, but your victory is soon taken away when you see that Jack isn’t there. You look around for him and are hit in the side of your head. You turn in time to see Jack run away. You quietly follow behind him. He stops at a tree and looks in the other direction to see if you are following him. Taking the opportunity, you throw the snowball, hitting the back of his head. “Cold!” he yells, reaching down the back of his shirt trying to get the snow out. You just stare at him with a smirk on your face. “What’s the matter, you can’t take a little snow?” you taunt. He turns around to look at you, and your eyes go wide when you see he has a snowball in his hand. You run away while he chases you. This cycle continues until both you and Jack were soaking wet and laughing your heads off. When the two of you finally stop, you see that Jack’s slightly shivering. “We should go back to the house and warm up,” you suggest. He nods, and after picking up your sketchbook, the two of you walk back to your house. “So, how are your lessons going?” Jack asks you. You groan in response. Your father had started private tutoring for you from a woman, Miss Caroline, for a month now, and you hated it. “It’s awful. She yells at me whenever my sewing is a stitch off and I always step on her feet when she’s trying to teach me to dance. But, on the bright side, my penmanship has improved from all the lines I’ve been copying.” Jack laughed at this. “At least someone is amused by it.” “I don’t know why you think it’s so hard. All you do is curtsey and learn which fork is the salad one,” Jack says. “Hey, those forks all look the same to me,” you reply in your defense. “Well, I’d trade with you any day. My job is much harder than that.” You shrug. “Can’t beat you there.” Your conversation was cut short by Jack’s dad calling for him, signaling the time to leave. “Were we out there that long?” you ask. “I guess so. Time sure does fly when you’re not shoveling horse dung. Bye.” He leans in to give you a hug, but you dodge his outstretched arms. He looks at you quizzically. “After the horse comment, I’m not sure I want you touching me.” He laughs and pulls you in to a hug anyway. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell him when the two of you break apart. “As always.” He waves before turning his back and walking over to his father. You walk the short distance up to your front door and open it. Once inside, you can hear the sound of voices in the next room. Not wanting to be found, you close the door and walk as quietly as you can to the wooden staircase. You go up each one, making sure to jump over the squeaky step. You’re about to reach the top stair and quickly walk to your room when a voice stops you. “Ella, come back here.” You sigh and turn around. Your father is standing at the bottom of the stairs with a stern look on his face. You stomp down each step until you are standing next to him. “What happened to you?” he asks, referring to your soaking clothes, wet hair, and red cheeks. “Nothing, I was just playing outside in the snow,” you reply. “It looks like you jumped in a lake.” He shakes his head. “Go upstairs. I’ll get someone to draw you a bath and get some clothes out for you.” You kiss him on the cheek and walk back up the stairs to your room. “And don’t drip too much,” he adds to your retreating back. You rush in to your bedroom and run over to the door of your bathroom. After you close the door shut behind you, you peel the wet clothes off of your body and throw them in a heap on the floor. Your maid, Alice, knocks on the door and asks if she can come in. “Yes,” you call. She walks in and starts to fill up your tub. The two of you start making light conversation. When the water is near the rim, she turns off the water. “I’ll be waiting in your room for when you finish.” She walks out and closes the door, leaving you alone. You climb in to the tub and let the warm water heat up your cold limbs. After a couple of minutes of soaking, you wash your hair and body. Feeling very refreshed, you climb out of the tub and dry off with a towel. You wrap the towel around yourself and walk in to your room, where Alice is sitting down on a chair with a dress laying out on your bed. When she sees you, she jumps up and stands next to the bed. You slip on the dark blue dress and she zips up the back for you. She then leads you over to your vanity and pulls out the chair for you. You sit down, and she begins brushing and braiding your hair with her long, slender fingers. You feel rather foolish with Alice doing practically everything for you, but your dad feels you need her to help you with simple tasks like brushing your hair. When she’s finished, you run downstairs to your father’s study. Papers and logbooks from his ships are strewn all over the desk and chairs. He is writing when you walk in, so you quietly lift a rather large book off of an armchair and sit down. At the sound, he looks up and smiles. “You look much better than before,” he says in greeting. “What are you doing down here? Don’t you want to play with your dolls?” “Father, I’m eleven years old. I don’t play with dolls anymore,” you answer, rather irritated that he thought you were young enough to play with dolls. “Sorry, but it just seems like yesterday that you were playing with them.” You roll your eyes. Your father had a tendency to refer to the past a lot. He looks down at his watch and stands up. “Goodness, how time flies. It’s time for dinner.” He waked over to you and held out his arm. “May I escort you to dinner?” he asked, making you giggle. You grab his arm, and the two of you walk to the dining room. * * * * * The next day, you went outside to wait for Jack as you always do once your lessons end. As yesterday, you arrive in the meeting place before he does, so you sit down and wait. You now wish that you had remembered to bring your sketchbook with you, since it seemed like Jack would be a while. After about thirty minutes and him not showing up, you start to worry. You get up and walk to the stables, which is where he usually works. You open the doors and see that no one is in there or has been there. Confused, you close the doors and walk over your house. You look around until you see Jack’s father. At the moment, he is trimming the hedges around your property. You slowly walk over to him and say, “Mr. Miller?” He turns around and gives you a little nod. “How are you doin’ today Miss Taylor?” “Well,” you begin, “I was wondering where Jack was.” “I’m sorry, but Jack isn’t here today. He stayed home. Has a nasty cold he does.” “Oh,” you say dejectedly. “Thank you.” You turn around and walk back to the house. Poor Jack! He probably got sick from the snowball fight yesterday. When you go inside, a delightful smell is coming from the kitchen, so you decide to go down and investigate what it is. You open the giant doors and see the cook stirring a pot inside. “Hello,” she says with a smile as you walk in the door. “Hello Mrs. Spiller.” You sit down on one of the chairs in front of her and ask, “What are you cooking?” “Soup,” she tells you, stirring the contents. “It’s the best thing you can have on cold winter days like this.” “Mrs. Spiller,” you say, a plan formulating in your head, “do you think that I could get some of this to bring to a friend of mine? He’s sick, and I think it will help him feel better.” She looks up at you from her cooking and gives you a smile. “Of course dear! Let me put it in a thermos for you to carry over. And I’ll give you a spoon and bowl to pour it in.” “Thank you,” you reply gratefully. “Just make sure you get these back to me,” she instructs you, holding out the thermos, spoon, and bowl. You grab them and say, “Don’t worry.” “There’s a good girl. Now run along, I need to continue cooking.” You say goodbye and run out of the kitchen. Now, all you had to do was find someone to bring you to Jack’s house. You run through the halls and almost run in to Alice. “Where are you going in such a hurry?” she asks. “I’m looking for someone who knows how to get to the Miller’s.” She stares up at Alice. “Do you know?” She debates whether to answer truthfully or not, but then she finally says, “Yes, I do know.” You can feel the excitement coursing through you. “Can you take me?” you ask, looking up at her with big, sad eyes. She wants to say no, but the look in your eyes makes her cave in. “Alright, but you can only stay for five minutes. No more.” “Thank you,” you cry, throwing your arms around her neck. She awkwardly pats your back until you let go and lead her out of the house. “Now, which way do we go?” you ask when you reach the top of the driveway. “This way.” She takes the lead and turns right. You follow her to the town, where there are shops that you have been to before. She leads you down some unfamiliar streets until you get to a bunch of houses. You’re shocked, because they are all small and dirty. You knew you were more fortunate than others, but you didn’t know it was to this extent. She turns down another road and stops in front of a house. It is one story, like the rest, the front, which was once brick, is now all brown and covered with dirt, and there are no plants in the front. “This is it,” Alice tells you. You walk up the pathway to the door, soup in hand, and knock on the front door. For some reason, this place made you feel really uneasy. “Who is it?” a voice yells from inside. “Is that you Jack?” you ask, praying that it is. You hear footsteps inside, and the door opens. You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and give him a hug. “What are you doing here?” Jack asks, completely confused about why you are here. “I heard you were sick, so I brought you soup,” you explain, showing him the thermos, bowl, and spoon. “Can I come in?” “Of course,” he says, shaking his head. “Sorry, this cold is making me think slower.” He steps out of the way so you can enter. You walk in and observe his house. The room you’re standing in has a simple kitchen to the right and a sitting area on the left, consisting of a table and two wooden chairs. There are two doors beyond this, and one is open to reveal a bedroom. Jack leads you over to the two chairs and sits down. You sit in the other and pour the soup in to the bowl. You scoot it along the table to him, and he immediately starts eating. In no time at all, he has finished the whole thing. He sees you staring at him with wide eyes, and says, “I was a little hungry.” You laugh. “A bit. So, how are you feeling?” “Much better now.” He starts coughing and puts his hand up to his mouth. “Sorry,” he says when the coughing resides, “I know I sound bad, but I’ll be better tomorrow.” The two of you continue to talk until a knock is heard at the door. “Miss Taylor?” It was Alice. “We should be heading back now.” “I have to go now,” you state. “Feel better.” You walk over him and give him a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jack replies. You walk over to the door and say goodbye before walking out of it and closing it behind you. Alice is waiting for you down at the street. You walk up to her, and the two of you walk back home. * * * * * CHAPTER 3 - Horseback Riding You are sitting down on a table in the library, swinging your legs. You’ve been waiting for your tutor, Miss Caroline, for an hour, and she still hasn’t shown up yet. You hear someone knock at the front door, and you groan inwardly. While it was boring waiting, your lessons were even more tedious. However, when the maid answers the door, a boy responds. You get up and walk over to the door so you can hear what was being said. “I have a letter for Mr. Taylor,” the boy starts. You stop listening and sigh. It was only a messenger boy delivering a letter to your father. How boring. So far, that all today seems: very dull. You lie down on the table and twiddle your thumbs. What you want to be doing is riding your new horse Snow, not waiting around for your late governess. You stand up and look out the window. It opens towards the town, and beyond the shops and homes you can see some of the ocean beyond. The sun is shining off the sparkling water and there isn’t a single cloud in the blue sky. It is such a beautiful day, and you’re stuck indoors. A cough from the other side of the room diverts your attention from the window to the door. Framed in the large doorway is a timid looking girl, though she seems thirteen, the same age as you. “Miss,” she says in a quiet voice that you have to strain to hear. “Your father wishes to see you in his office.” “Thank you,” you reply in a warm voice with a smile. She nods and scurries out. Well, at least you have something to do now. You step out of the room and walk down the marble hall to your father’s office. You knock and enter after you hear a gruff “come in” from the other side of the door. “Father,” you say when you walk in, mock scorn in your voice, “is that the right way to address your only daughter?” He looks up from a piece of paper in his hands to give you a smile. “I’m sorry Ella, but I was just frustrated at the number of pirate attacks there has been in the past month. It’s unheard of.” He turns his focus back on to the report in his hands, momentarily forgetting you. “You wanted to see me,” you remind him, hoping he wouldn’t leave you standing there for the rest of the day. “Oh yes,” he says, as if he just recalled that fact. “I got a note from Miss Caroline. It seems that her sister went in to labor, so she had to attend to her. You’re free from your lessons for today.” Inside you jump and yell for joy, but you keep your outside calm and under control. “That’s too bad,” you tell him. “So do I get the whole day to myself?” “Yes,” he says absentmindedly, reaching for some more papers. You figure that is your cue to leave, and quietly escort yourself out of the room. Once in the safety of the hall, you jump up and down. What luck! Who would have thought this would happen? In your moment of small celebration, your brother Peter walks down the stairs. He smirks at you and asks, “Why are you so happy?” You return the look. You and your brother always play a game of who can give the wittiest answer to the other. He usually won, but you were getting better. “The reason of my happiness is of no concern to you.” He shrugs. “I don’t care. It’s just that the jumping around isn’t too lady like of you.” He’s good. You think quickly and counter with, “Don’t you have a girl out in an alley waiting for you to deflower her?” Ha! By the look on his face, you thought he would admit defeat, but he countered. “And don’t you have a stable boy waiting for you?” Ouch. You hold your hands up in defeat. “You win again.” You turn and walk over to the front door, but before you exit, you look back at him and say, “But if you ever make fun of Jack again, it will be the last thing you utter.” With that loving comment to think about, you leave your brother alone in the foyer as you exit the house. You can’t help but smile as you walk through the grass and to the stables. Miss Caroline couldn’t have picked a better day to be absent. You make it down to the stables and hear a noise from inside, your smile growing bigger. You open the door, and a figure inside turns around. Dark chocolate eyes meet yours, and your heart races. Wait, why is it doing that? As you try to find out why your body is acting funny, Jack stands up and walks over to you. “You’re out early,” he says to you in greeting. You however, cannot seem to muster a reply. Once you get a hold on your vocal chords, you stutter, “Miss Caroline isn’t here today. I wanted to ride Snow.” “Ah,” he replies, walking down the stable to the far stall, you tagging along behind him. He opens the door and both of you walk in. Inside is a dark black mare, her brown eyes on the two of you. You rush over to her and pet her muzzle. “Need help saddling her?” Jack asks, walking up next to you. “Yes,” you reply, your attention switching over to him. He walks over and lifts up the sidesaddle, and you can’t help but notice his muscular arms as he does. You frown and wonder why you’re paying attention to his great physique. Shaking these thoughts out of your head, you walk over and grab your riding gloves, which are always kept in the stable. If not, you would surely lose them. You don’t have to worry about shoes; you always wear boots under your dress. You can’t stand high heels, even though Miss Caroline scolded you about it numerous times. Eventually you would have to break this habit, but for now you were fine. Once Snow is saddled up, you thank Jack and lead her out of the stable. You mount her and start trotting towards the open fields. Once in the fields, you smile and remember when you and Jack used to play out here. You were thinking about Jack again! You furrow your brow and ponder why it is that Jack seems to be in your thoughts more often then usual, and why your heart sped up when you saw him earlier. You’ve never felt like this before, and it was kind of unnerving. Your mind wanders back to what your brother said, about you being with Jack. Did he really think that you spent your time with Jack kissing him? That was absurd, but now that you think about it, kissing Jack wouldn’t be so bad. His lips seem so soft and… No! You’re not having sexual thoughts about Jack, are you? After thinking, you realize that was why you were acting funny around Jack. You have feelings for him! The thought seems silly to you, especially since Jack was fifteen and would only see you as his thirteen-year-old friend. It saddens you, but you quickly shoo the emotion away. It’s too beautiful a day to feel sad. You stop thinking and just enjoy the ride. After a while, you decide to go back. Jack should be done with his work soon. You make Snow go a little faster and head over to the stables. Jack is leaning against a wall waiting for you, his dark brown hair cascading over his eyes, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of him. He really is gorgeous. He smiles back at you as you dismount and lead Snow back into the stable by her reigns. Once in her stall, Jack takes of her saddle and you start brushing her. He brings her a carrot, which she happily accepts. Jack starts petting her nuzzle and coos, “Good girl,” to her. “She’s a very good horse,” you say, trying to ignore Jack’s arm brushing against yours. “You’re so beautiful,” Jack continues. You look over at him, but see his eyes turned to you and not the mare. Your eyes quickly retreat, your cheeks slightly turning pink. Now you are a blushing little girl. You scold yourself for acting so immature, but know you can’t help it. A hand touching the side of your face lightly stops the bickering in your head, and you turn your head to see Jack looking down at you. Both of you don’t say anything, you just look at each other. He slowly leans down and brushes his lips against yours in a short, yet sweet kiss. Butterflies you never noticed before start fluttering wildly in your stomach. Not wanting to seem as nervous as you were, you kiss him, letting his lips linger on yours for longer than last time. Both of you pull away and can’t help but smile at each other. The two of you don’t say anything for a while, until Jack says, “We should get out of here. It smells horribly.” You can’t help but laugh at his comment. He puts an arm around your waist, which you find you like, and leads you out of the stuffy stable into the sunny outside. You walk out of his grasp and spin around in a circle, your arms stretched out. You can’t help it; you’re that happy. You stop and look over at Jack. He runs over to you and engulfs you in a hug. You lose your balance and fall over, bringing him down with you. Jack laughs, and you can’t help but copy. Once he stops, he kisses you on the tip of your nose. “You’re so cute,” he teases. You sit up and put on a serious face. “Ladies like me aren’t cute Mr. Miller,” you inform him in a proper tone. “And we certainly don’t roll around in the grass like this.” He smiles and shakes his head. “That’s one of the things I love about you. You’re so full of sass.” You give him a truly shocked face. “I most certainly am not!” you yell, crossing your arms over your chest. He just raises an eyebrow at you, and you see that he’s right. “Well, maybe a little,” you admit. You sigh and lay back down with him, his arm resting around your waist. The two of you just sit there and don’t say anything. Nothing needs to be said; you know what the other is feeling without voicing it. And it just feels right to have Jack’s arms around you. This moment is perfect and you wish it would last forever, but soon it’s time for Jack to leave. “I’ve got to go,” he says, kissing the top of your head before standing up. You reach your hands up towards him, and he pulls you off of the grass. “Will I see you tomorrow?” you ask. You see him every day anyway, but this time, your reason is different. “Of course,” he replies. He reaches for your hand and lightly kisses it, making you giggle at his formality. “Until we meet again milady.” “Jack, stop messing around and go!” you laugh. He turns around and runs off, leaving you alone standing by the stables. Once his retreating back is out of view, you walk back to your house with a large grin. You feel like you’re so light the wind would just pick you up and carry you away to the ocean, and you wouldn’t care one bit. If there were a happier person than you in the world, you would be quite surprised, because the feeling you have is pure ecstasy. You reach the door and walk in to your house, not stopping your joyful skip. Your two brothers are in there walking towards the dining room for dinner, but stop when they see you. You walk up to both of them and give each a kiss on the cheek. George looks at you flabbergasted, while Peter just rolls his eyes. “What was that for?” George asks, sounding as shocked as he looks. “She’s been like that all day,” Peter explains. “Don’t mind her.” He grabs his brother’s arm and drags him to dinner. You follow them, unfazed by your brothers’ comments. Nothing could bring you down. * * * * * Author's Note: Okay, I couldn't find a place to put your ages in the beginning without it sounding weird. So you're 15 and Jack's 17, meaning it's been two years since the last chapter. Now, on to the story! * * * * * CHAPTER 4 - Quest For The Cake "Why did I agree to do this again?" Jack asks, shifting his weight slightly from his left foot to his right. You look up from your drawing and see his back to you as he looks longingly out a window. "Jack!" At the sound of his name being called, he turns around to face you. "You have to stay in one spot or else my drawing will turn out disproportional." He reluctantly does as you tell him. Smiling in satisfaction, you look back down at your paper and see where you left off. The torso, face outline, and hair are complete, and now you are working on his face, the most difficult part. You start to shade around his cheeks to make his high cheek bones stand out. You glance up to make sure you have it right and continue drawing, but are interrupted by his slightly whining voice. "Why am I doing this again?" He is doing this because you told him that you wanted to. And he couldn't say no to you. You even threw in some sad, pleading eyes that always got you what you wanted. And who can blame you for wanting to draw him? It gave you a chance to stare at him all you wanted without being too conspicuous about your ogling. And it threw in the added benefit of being able to stare at him in the comfort of your room any time you wanted. You hadn't mentioned any of that to him, though. You let out a frustrated sigh and say, "Because I wanted you to. And," you add at the look on his face, "if you can last the whole time without moving, you get a piece of Mrs. Spiller's chocolate cake." He noticeably perks up at the mention of the cook's delicious cake and stands still for you. But after a couple of minutes, his boredom returns, and he starts to fidget and look around the library for something that will capture his interest. "I'm bored," he states, but you don't take any heed of it and continue drawing. His wandering eyes land on you, and the sides of his mouth start to curl up in a mischievous grin. Once you look down at your paper, he silently walks out of his spot and makes his way behind you. Your shoulders are soon graced by his hands, and you momentarily stop your drawing to enjoy the soothing massage. He leans his head next to your ear and whispers, "How about we go get that cake now." You're about to say yes, with all that massaging you would agree to anything, but before your mouth forms the word, your mind catches up with what's happening. Your eyes grow wide and you stand up and turn to him, your hands clutching to your hips. "Jack," you scold, "I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work. Now, go back over there so I can finish my drawing." You point over to his previous spot for emphasis. He does what you say, a slight dejected look on his face. You frown; you want Jack to be happy in your picture, not grumpy. You utter the word cake, and you're happy to see that it has the effect you wanted. Now that Jack's mood has improved, you continue drawing. After what seems like forever to Jack, you put your pencil down on the table and say, "Done," while looking proudly over your handiwork. You think smugly to yourself that it is very realistic, if not the best thing you've drawn yet. You're about to show it to Jack to see what he thinks, but he is already at the door. "Wait, don't you want to see how it turned out?" you ask him. He looks at you and says, "It can look like a bloody mound of dirt for all I care. I just want my cake." You shake your head and laugh. Guys: always thinking with their stomachs. You run up to him, and he takes your hand in his before walking down the hall with you towards the foyer. The kitchen was at the other wing of the house, so it was a walk, but Jack would do anything to get some of that delicious cake, as he had demonstrated earlier. On your way there, the two of you pass by your father's office, and he calls out when he sees the two of you pass by, "Jack, can I have a word with you?" You are confused as to why your father wants to talk to him, but Jack doesn't look the least bit concerned or shocked. He drops your hand, walks in, and pushes the doors closed behind him before you can even make to follow. Curiosity getting the better of you, you walk over to the large wood doors and press your ear on the surface. You can hear the murmur of voices on the other side, but you can't make out any of the words. You push your head harder against the wood and desperately try to hear something – anything – but the meeting is over, unbeknownst to you, and the door you're leaning on with all your weight opens. A surprised yelp escapes your lips as you fall forward, but are thankfully saved from hitting the ground by Jack's arms. You look up and see him trying hard not to laugh above you. "I want you too, but I don't think we should be doing this in front of your dad," he whispers so only you can hear. You glare up at him and quickly get out of his arms and on to your feet, although you do miss the contact. "Now, let's go get that cake!" You can't help but laugh at his persistence at getting some of that cake, and the two of you walk towards the hall to the kitchen. Once your father is out of hearing range, you begin to pester Jack with questions. "So, why did my dad want to see you?" He looks over at you quickly before replying, "No reason." You can't help but notice the seriousness in his voice when he answered, and that just deepens your interest. What could be so important that he doesn't want to talk about it with you? Your mind starts going through all the possibilities, and none of them are good. "He's not firing you, is he?" Jack looks over at you again and sees the worry in your eyes. He stops you and gives you a quick kiss before saying, "Of course not. Quite the opposite, actually." Relief washes through you, and you can't help but smile at your foolish worrying. Jack can't help finding your worrying over his behalf cute, and he pulls you in for another, deeper kiss. Your legs suddenly feel like they've turned to jelly, and you loop your arms around Jack's neck so you don't fall to the ground. When the two of you break apart, you're slightly winded and take a couple of deep breaths. Jack looks around, a frown on his face and his eyebrows furrowed in thought. You can't help but smile at how just kissing him erased his memory of the cake. "So, do you want to go get that cake?" you offer, and practically choke trying to hold back your laughter as his eyes suddenly light up in remembrance and his face morphs from it's previous expression to one of joy. He grabs your hand, and once again the two of you make your way down the hall. The two of you open the door to the kitchen, and the smell of chocolate fills the air. Jack licks his lips and rushes forward, hands outstretched to grab the two-layered desert. Out of nowhere, a wooden spoon comes down and hits his hands away. He looks up and sees a plump woman with graying brown hair and soft honey eyes staring down at him with what would appear to be disapproval, but there is a sparkle in her eyes that says otherwise. "Now Mr. Miller, I know you're not going to eat that whole cake, are you?" He gave her a look of pure innocence. "Of course not, Mrs. Spiller. I was only going to cut myself a small piece of this delectable cake you made." The old woman couldn't help but laugh at his flattery. "You could charm the devil, Jack," she compliments while cutting him and you rather large slices of the cake and putting them on two plates. Jack grabs a fork and starts shoveling the pastry in to his mouth, and you can't help but gape at his quick consumption. You wonder if he has eaten in the past week, or if he's just always like this. You grab a fork and begin to eat your cake, but aren't hungry enough to eat the whole piece. Jack has now finished his, and looks like he's about to go for another slice. That guy just doesn't stop. But, having two older brothers, you had already accepted the fact that guys are capable of eating a small elephant all on their own. You shove your plate over to him and say, "Here," while giving him a stern look that says 'and this is it'. He nods his head and soon devours the rest of your slice. After polishing of that one, Jack pauses, and then the loudest belch you've ever heard escapes his mouth. You don't know whether to laugh or cringe. You choose the former, after seeing the look of surprise on Jack's face. He smiles at your amusement. You continue laughing until you remember the meeting between your father and Jack, which effectively stops your giggles. "Jack, what did my father want to tell you earlier?" "You're not going to forget that, are you?" You shake your head, and he sighs. He looks up at the clock, and says, "It's getting late; I have to go." He turns to you and asks, "Miss, can you escort me to the door?" While his mock formality would usually cause you to smile, you just continue frowning and walk out the kitchen door, him following. "Ella, please, don't do this to me," he says to your back. You slow down and allow him to catch up with you. When he meets your stride, you ask again, "Why can't you just tell me?" "I will, but not now." You're not happy with this answer and continue walking without looking at him. When the two of you reach the foyer, Jack grabs your shoulders and twirls you around so you face him. He leans down and kisses you, making you forget all of the frustration you were feeling to him before. He pulls away and whispers, "I love you," before going to the door and opening it. "I love you too," you say. He turns around and gives you a beautiful smile before closing the door and leaving. Once the door closes, you turn around and head to the library and find your picture lying down on the same table it was before. You grab it and quickly run out of the room and up the stairs to your bedroom. Once locked in the sanctuary of your room, you lie down on your bed and stare at your picture of Jack. But, instead of thinking about him, you can't stop thinking about the secret meeting between him and your father and what it was about. Why wasn't Jack telling you? You decide that you have to do some investigating of your own. * * * * You sit down at the dinner table and play with the end of your napkin. Your father is talking about business with your oldest brother George, who has started working with him. Usually, you pay no attention to their ramblings, but tonight, you need to keep up and find a way to direct your father's attention towards you. Your mind starts to drift away, but luckily, the main course is brought in, snapping you back to the present. The arrival of the food also halts your brother and father's conversation, allowing you to step in. "So father," you ask casually while cutting a piece of your chicken, "what did you have to talk to Jack about earlier?" He looks at you before saying, "You didn't hear it through the door?" obviously referring to your tumbling through the doorframe and in to Jack's arms. "No," you reply, not showing in the least how embarrassed you feel that he brought that up. You find that concealing your emotions like that in front of your brothers is the best way to escape a taunting from the two, because while they were older, that didn't mean they were mature. He finished chewing his chicken. "He didn't tell you?" "No," you repeat. Your father gives you a stern look. "If he didn't tell you, then I can't. It's his business to tell if he wants." You were shocked, to say the least. If it hadn't been for the half chewed meat in your mouth, you would have dropped your jaw. Your father just took Jack's side and not yours, his daughter. What kind of loyalty is that? You're his flesh and blood; he created you. And here he is, denying you information that you desperately want. How unfair is this. A voice from across the table breaks your musings. "So, why so interested in this stable boy's life?" your brother Peter asks. "Bugger off," you tell him, earning a scornful look from your father. "Ladies don't say 'bugger off', especially at the dinner table. Is Miss Caroline teaching you anything?" You ignore his comment and continue eating. You glance up and see your brother smirking at you. You look back down at your plate and cut viciously at your chicken, pretending it's your brother's neck instead. * * * * * CHAPTER 5 - Proposals of Many Kinds “Miss Katherine, will you please pay attention?” Miss Caroline’s voice cuts through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. All you have been able to think about today is Jack, and how he’s keeping something from you. You don’t know what could be that important that he consulted your father, and the suspense is killing you. “I’m sorry, Miss Caroline. My mind was just on other things,” you reply to your teacher. “Well, can you please tell your mind to come back to the lesson?” she asks in a demanding tone. You sigh and continue with your printing. Other than needlepoint, this has to be the most tedious form of torture devised. While you know reading and writing are important, you don’t know why it requires hours and hours of copying lines to master the skill. But, as Miss Caroline says, a woman is expected to do everything neatly and perfectly, two qualities in work that you have no patience for. Actually, all you have patience for is drawing and reading. This usually gets you in trouble with your tutor, but you don’t care. You just don’t see the necessity of most the things she teaches you. After another hour of printing, in which your hand has become incredibly cramped, Miss Caroline finally says you’re finished. You drop the pen down and begin to open and close your fingers in to a fist in an attempt to stretch the aching muscles. You can’t help but feel grateful that the work is done, but your happiness is short lived, because Miss Caroline announces, “Now, let’s depart to the dining room, where we will go over dining etiquette.” You groan, and Miss Caroline hears the noise of disproval. “I know it’s not your favorite, Miss Katherine, but it’s one of the most important lessons I can teach you. My job is to get you ready for when you become a woman, and then a wife. And you don’t want to embarrass your husband by drinking out of your neighbor’s glass.” How you never heard the end of this excuse. You don’t know why you need to prepare to be married. You’re only fifteen years old! Marriage is the last thing on your mind, and long way away. When you do wed, it will be in such a long time from now that you would have forgotten everything she’s teaching you. But you know better than to argue this, and reluctantly get up and follow her to the dining room, where you can see a place set up for you. You then go through another hour of trying to remember which fork to use for each course. * * * * Once Miss Caroline says that you’re done, you jump out of your chair and run out of the room. Your feet pound on the marble floor as you race over to the front door. You throw the door open and step outside, breathing the fresh air in to your lungs. Finally, you’ll be able to question Jack about the meeting with your father that has been bugging you. You walk over to the stables, where he usually works around this time, and peek in. Jack is inside, pacing with his hands behind his back and a look of concentration on his face. “Jack,” you call to him. He jumps and turns to look at you. “Hey Ella. You scared me,” he said, walking over to you and giving you a hug. “How was your day?” you ask him when you pull apart. You start walking out the door, and Jack grabs your hand and follows. “Oh, you know,” Jack says vaguely while looking off at some point on the horizon. You stare at him, wondering what happened that has put him in such a state. Did it have to do with what your father told him? “Jack, what’s wrong?” You can’t mask the worry in your voice, and Jack catches it. He turns his head to look at you, and you’re happy to see that his eyes seem to be on you and not far off as they were a second ago. “It’s nothing, really,” he says, but then pauses. “Actually, it is something, something really important.” He sits down on the grass, and pulls you down with him, since he is holding your hand. He pauses for a second, trying to get his words right. “Ella, I don’t know how to tell this to you,” he finally gets out, and stands back up and starts pacing again. You look at him from your spot on the ground, and suddenly you get scared and your eyes start to water. “Jack, you’re really starting to worry me. Can’t you please just tell me what’s going on?” He looks down at you and sees that you’re about to cry, so he quickly sits down next to you and takes your hands in his large ones. It’s oddly comforting, and you calm down a bit. “Alright, I’ll just come out and tell you.” He takes a deep breath before beginning. “As you may have guessed, this in part has to do with what your father told me yesterday.” You nod your head, showing that you had suspected as much. “Well, before I tell you, you must know something. Ella, I love you. And, I was planning on asking you in a couple of years, but when you’re old enough, will you marry me?” You were shocked to silence. Jack – funny, beautiful, caring Jack – wants to marry you? All of the sudden you feel this surge of love run through you, and your tears finally come out of your eyes, but from joy. “Oh Jack, of course I’ll marry you!” you manage to say before pulling him to you and burying your face in his chest. You look up and see him smiling down at you with love shining in his eyes before he steals your lips in a kiss. When you finally have gained control of yourself, you finally ask him, “So, is that what you talked to my father about?” Jack's smile drops, and you can tell that marriage was not what your father and he had discussed. “No, that’s the second part of news.” He puts a lock of your hair behind your ear before continuing. “Your father – he’s gotten me a job in the Navy.” You stare at him, not quite comprehending what he’s telling you. “You’ve gotten a job in the Navy?” “Yes. It’s a great opportunity –” You cut him off. “Do you know where you’re going to be stationed?” You can tell you’re not going to like the news by the look on his face. “The Caribbean.” That was definitely not the answer you were expecting. You could handle the other side of England, but the other side of the world? “The Caribbean,” you repeat, closing your eyes so you don’t start crying all over again. You finally believe you’ll be able to spend the rest of your life with Jack, and now he’s being taken away from you. Jack can tell you’re very upset by this, and he tries to help you understand. “Look, Ella, I’m not happy about this either, but I don’t have a choice. I love you, and if I am going to marry you, I need to get a respectable job that makes enough money to support you. I heard that you move up quickly in the Navy down in the Caribbean, so before you know it, I’ll be able to come back and get you.” He stands up and offers a hand to you, which you take. He pulls you up to your feet and looks you right in the eyes. “I’m sorry it has to be this way. I would give anything to be able to stay here with you, but unfortunately I can’t.” “I understand,” you say. He pulls you in to his arms, and you stay like that for a while, not caring that he’s dirty and smells like things that would be unheard of for a lady to talk about. But right now you don’t care, and are ignoring the mixed emotions running through you, only thinking about Jack and how good it feels to be in his arms. Your thoughts are swimming in your head and making no sense at all. It’s more like a jumble of emotions and words, all of which you can’t understand. However, one question gets through it all, and you ask him. “Jack,” you start with your head still against his chest, “when are you going to be leaving?” “Two weeks,” you hear from above you. “Your father’s friend has a ship going down there that I’ll be getting a ride on. Your father’s a good man. He arranged most of this for me.” Two weeks. Now that is a very short time, much shorter than you thought. You look out and see that it is getting darker and Jack should be heading home. You point this out to him, but he doesn’t make a move to leave. “You should go home now,” you tell him again, for while you love to be with him, you didn’t want him roaming the streets at night. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asks, still not letting go of you. “I’ll live,” you reply. “I just need time to think this over.” Jack nods and kisses the top of your head before unwrapping his arms from around you. “You won’t change your mind about marrying me, will you?” You don’t know if this is a joke or not, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes. “Of course not,” you reply. The two of you kiss goodbye and he runs off, looking back at you occasionally until he turns off your property. You sigh and walk back in to your house, heading straight for your room. Once you flop down on your bed, the tears roll down again, not stopping until you have no more to cry. All that has happened to you in one day is just so overwhelming, and you don’t know if you can handle it. A knock sounds at your door, and the voice of a maid meets your ears. “Miss Taylor? Your father wanted me to fetch you for supper.” “Please tell him I’m not hungry and won’t be coming down,” you yell, not being in the mood at all to sit with your family, much less eat anything. “As you wish.” You can hear the maid’s footsteps receding down the hall until they fade away. You return back to your thoughts, and this time you try to think rationally about the whole thing. You, of course, can see the logic in this whole situation. You would never be allowed to marry a man like Jack, even if he is honorable. And your father said you could choose whom you wanted to marry when you were older, but this would be pushing it. So you could understand why he was prompted to do this, but you can’t help but feel deeply saddened that he would be leaving you and you wouldn’t see him for years. You wanted him to go so you could marry him, but you didn’t want him to leave you. This was all too confusing. You walk over to your vanity and stare at yourself in the mirror. There are visible tearstains on your cheeks, and your eyes look all red and puffy. A sudden fatigue hits you; you didn’t realize how tired you were before. Quickly, you get dressed in to your nightgown, not even waiting for your maid, and fall in to a deep sleep. * * * * When morning comes, your maid comes in to your room to wake you. You grumble for a few minutes before getting up and dressing into a nice dress. Once you’re done, you dismiss your maid and sit down in front of your vanity to straighten up. Your eyes are back to normal, but your hair is a bit disheveled, making you look the exact opposite of the lady you’re supposed to be. You run a comb through your hair while you stare at yourself in the mirror, not knowing what you plan on finding in the reflection, but looking for something. Your eyes start to wander around the room, and they rest on your notebook. Carefully you set down the brush and walk over to the notepad, something inside you wanting to draw badly. You set the pad on your vanity and flip through the pages until you find a blank page. Now it was a question of what to draw. You unconsciously drum your pencil on your pad as you search the room through your mirror for inspiration. Your eyes suddenly land on yourself, and you know what to draw. Just like you had drawn Jack the other day, you started to draw yourself, first getting the shape of your face, neck, and upper torso. Then you add your hair falling over your shoulders, looking up in to the mirror to make sure everything is right. Your face is next, and you take extra care in making your both your eyes symmetrical and not drawing your nose too big. Once it’s finished, you look down at it and marvel at how well you did. You carefully rip it out, and lay it down on your vanity. You get up and quickly retrieve the picture of Jack you drew, laying it next to the new one of you. You can’t help but think they are the two best drawings you have done yet. But you still think there’s something missing from them. And then it hits you: they’re missing a title and your signature. Quickly, you write “Jack – 17” at the bottom of Jack’s portrait and “Ella – 15” on yours, and then sign “Ella Taylor” in the bottom right hand corner of each. You look at both of them now, and it hits you how now they look like a set, like they belong together. Like they were meant for each other. * * * * Later that day, all you could think about was Jack and the present you had waiting for him upstairs in your room. You had decided that you would give the picture of you to him so he would remember you while he was gone in the Caribbean. After a lot of thought, you finally accepted the fact that he was leaving and you would just have to hope that he made a name for himself so he could come back and get you. However, poor Miss Caroline was not aware of the arrangement between you and Jack, so she was becoming fed up with you very quickly during your lesson. “Miss Katherine, you’re messing up your stitches!” You look down and see that while you were thinking of Jack, you had forgotten about the stitching you were doing, and would have to take out the whole row and do it all over again. “I’m sorry Miss Caroline, my mind is just somewhere else today,” you apologize. “Your mind is always somewhere else,” she replies, and you have to admit that she had a point. But her classes were always so dull that it was just so easy for your mind to wander. “It’s just that this is so boring,” you say, dropping your needlework on to the table. If Miss Caroline was surprised by this outburst, she didn’t show it. “Miss Katherine, you probably think that what we’re doing here is pointless and you’ll never need it again, right?” That basically summed it all up, you thought. She’s looking at you for an answer, and you wonder if you should answer truthfully. “Yes,” you hesitantly reply, not knowing what answer she wants. “Well, you have to learn to pretend like it’s interesting. For example, when your husband is hosting a dinner and his superiors or friends are talking about business or politics, are you just going to fall asleep in your dinner and completely embarrass him? No! You have to pretend to be interested in the conversation, even if it’s the most boring matter. And so if you think needlepoint is boring, you should not make it apparent. You have to make me believe that you enjoy it.” She picked up your needlework and handed it back to you. “Now, try it again, and make sure I don’t catch you drifting off again.” As you work, you can’t help but think about what Miss Caroline said. Before you just ignored what she said about being married and the duties of a wife, but now that you know you’re getting married to Jack, it put everything in a different perspective. If he was going to be in the Navy, of course he would have parties and dinners with high-ranking officials, and they would talk about topics that you wouldn’t understand. And you want Jack to be proud of you. You love him so much. For the rest of the day you did your lessons, and not once did Miss Caroline scold you for being off task. |