Elizabeth had not intended to make conversation, primarily for the reason that she had no wish to talk to Beckett, and secondarily for the reason that it was much easier to plan an escape when you weren't carrying on a conversation simultaneously. So her reply was not one that welcomed further attempts at small talk. "In a sense of the word," she returned rather waspishly, with a glance upwards, and added (mostly to indulge herself), "I'm under no delusion that my comfort is of utmost importance to you."

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"Perhaps not," Beckett assented with a short nod. "But I do, nonetheless, pride myself on being a good host. I had thought that you might enjoy the return to some semblance of civilization after your time spent among pirates." The last word was spoken with a tone of especial distaste, reflecting his already obvious sentiments concerning the cretins. "I am told that you were once a lady of great refinement, before you so lowered your standards. A shame, really." He arched an eyebrow briefly -the Cutler Beckett equivalent of a shrug- before returning his eyes to the plate in front of him and resuming his meal.

"No one ever told you, then," said Elizabeth, drawing herself up haughtily, "that a life among pirates is far preferable to that of a lady of great refinement. Perhaps you ought to try it before jumping to conclusions." The thought of Beckett as a pirate - even the thought of Beckett without his flawlessly arranged wig - was a comical one, but Elizabeth did not show it outwardly.

She refrained from adding that she would lower her standards as far as it was possible to go in order to follow Will. If it was good enough for him, it was good enough for her. Elizabeth resumed her meal in silence, wondering if it was entirely wise to allow herself to be goaded into conversation.

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"Indeed?" Beckett inquired. He did not speak for some time, seemingly considering this point. Finally, as one of the maids (the same maid who had summoned Elizabeth earlier) passed by, Beckett looked up from the table. "Mary," he called out sharply, stopping the servant before she could leave the room. "Tell the girls that they will not need to draw that hot bath after supper. Mrs. Turner has determined that she has no need of it....Oh, and inform Mr. Wicker that we have a wardrobe of unused gowns that needs removing in the morning."

Smothering an inquisitive look, the maid nodded and dipped a quick curtsy before hurrying out of the room.

As soon as the maid had departed, Beckett casually lowered his gaze to his plate and began cutting the meat. "I would not wish to offend you with such emblems of society and class," he intoned dryly, off Elizabeth's look.

Elizabeth only controlled herself by dint of focusing furiously on her plate for a full count of ten seconds. When she looked up again her poise was entirely unaltered and she replied in a tone that was less cool than it was icy. "For one who earlier was so attentive to my condition you have a strange lack of concern now."

Instantly she was furious at herself. That sounded horribly like asking for both things back. She groped for a haughty addition, and ended up merely stabbing the meat on her plate as though she would like to do the same to Beckett across from her.

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"My apologies; I was not aware that bathing and clean clothes were necessities during the course of pregnancy," Beckett rejoined passively. "But, of course, you are the expert in this matter. You need only say what you require, and I will see to it that it is provided. After all, we wouldn't want to risk the health of the world's next Turner." Silently, he added, Assuming it is, indeed, Turner's.

"As food and suitable accommodations seem to be necessities in pregnancy, I hardly see the difference in clothing and a bath," said Elizabeth. Her lips tightened almost imperceptibly at the world's next Turner. Yes, it was in fact a Turner. Why - ?

Not the world's next Sparrow. The thought rose to taunt her and Elizabeth fairly had to clutch the edge of the table to stop herself rising in a paroxysm of fury. How dare he insinuate - !

She continued to impale pieces of meat on her fork with increasing venom, expression set furiously.



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((Already replied via pm))

The slightest hint of a smirk played at the corner of Beckett's mouth. "Ah, so you've changed your mind, then?" he inquired mildly. The smirk grew slightly more as he glanced down at Elizabeth's plate and added, "The roast is already dead, Mrs. Turner. There is no need to add your efforts."

Elizabeth's efforts to spear the meat on her various cutlery decreased marginally, but not so that you could really notice. "Yes, I suppose you could say that," she flashed back. "Though as it seems I'm such a savage I wonder you're surprised at my eating habits."

It was really a pitiful retort, but there was nothing else to do. Elizabeth found herself mentally pleading for Will and hastily stopped it. She wanted him to stay away...stay away...

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"None, save that you belay that folly before you doom us all," Barbossa shot back. "Beckett absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, come to possess Jack's heart. I've no loyalty to Jack Sparrow meself, but like it or not, he controls these seas now. He's got the Dutchman at his disposal, an' more power than I care to think about bein' in the hands of such a fool. If Beckett controls Jack, it'll be as if we ne'er defeated Jones, an' all we've done up to this day will be for naught." Captain or not, he was not about to let this upstart whelp of a pirate undo in one fell swoop everything they'd fought so hard to achieve. "Much as I am loath to say this, the wisest course o' action right now lies with workin' with Jack, rather than against him. He's a master o' deception; he ought to be able to work somethin' out."
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"Jus' so long as we have an understand'ing," Tia replied, her stained lips parting to reveal equally stained teeth. "I will see you soon, den, witty Jack." Without another word, she disappeared and was back aboard the Pearl.
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"I cannot officially speak for the captain," James said in response to Cristiano's and Henrik's queries, "but I am sure that there is room enough in our crew for you and your men to join, if you wish. We lost several men in a battle a few days ago, and we could certainly use replacements."
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"Your words, not mine," Beckett replied disinterestedly. "Mary," he called out again, spotting the maid as she hurried past the doorway.

The maid froze in her steps and slowly turned around, clearly petrified at the thought of being the direct object of her Lord's attention three times in one day, but to her credit, she quickly recovered. "Milord?"

"The bath will be needed, after all. See to it that it is prepared by the time supper is finished."

"Of course, milord."

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Somewhat suprised at Barbossa's response, William understood the point he was making. The heart could cause very serious consequences if not handled properly.

"Yes...it is too risky," Will said as his dark brown eyes shot themselves toward the Dutchman across the way. "Very well, I will accompany Jack on the Dutchman. We will then sail to Port Royal and rescue Elizabeth."

Not even awaiting a response from Barbossa, Will made his way toward the ledge of the Pearl and took hold of a rope, "Barbossa, I leave you in charge of this ship while I am gone. Orders will remain the same, even in my absence."

Taking hold of the rope with both hands, Will was about board, but then quickly turned and added, "Oh, and Hector. I do expect to see my ship again." His expression was firm and his eyes stern, as if giving a warning.

With that, he swung across to the Dutchman, making a graceful landing on deck.

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((sorry for my absence))

Mr. Cotton's parrot flew around Tia Dalma and squawked loudly, landing on her shoulder.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

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