"You may now kiss the bride."

His heart beating hard, Will lifted Elizabeth's veil with trembling fingers and let them trail down to caress her cheek. She smiled up at him, her eyes large and shining, and he bent to kiss her. And though the had embraced like this before - at the fort, with the dark sails of a pirate ship behind them - Will thought that this kiss, this moment, meant more.

They broke off, and smiled at each other, and then Elizabeth took his arm. Together, the newly-weds turned and processed down the aisle of the church and out into the Caribbean sunshine.

The wedding breakfast was being held in the grounds of the Governor's house, with long tables set up under the shade of straw roofs especially erected for the occasion. The guests thronged the lawn, sipping from glasses of expensive French wine, the ladies fanning themselves languidly. Will and Elizabeth circulated amongst their friends - or, to be more precise, amongst the acquaintances of Governor Swann. The congratulations were polite and sincere, but they lacked any real warmth. As Will led Elizabeth to table, and they sat, he reflected that the celebration was not exactly what he would have chosen.

But Governor Swann looked happy as he rose to toast his daughter and her new husband. Will listened as his father-in-law (how strange that sounded!) spoke of his upstanding character and skill as a craftsman, whilst skilfully managing to avoid mentioning his parentage or the manner in which he and Elizabeth had first met. Commodore Norrington, as best man, was next. The Commodore was, if Will was honest with himself, not the first person he would have chosen in an ideal world as his best man, but it had seemed appropriate. And now Norrington made a suitably appropriate speech, raised his glass to the Turners, and sat.

Will and Elizabeth rose now in their turn, and carefully cut the cake using one of Will's own blades. Servants hurried up to carve it into smaller pieces and to hand those out to the guests, and there was general movement as glasses were refilled and the string quarter arrived to set up their music and begin playing.

Elizabeth took Will's hand. "Mr Turner," she began, with that glorious smile he loved so well, "I think I may very well be the luckiest woman ..."

She started, and turned her head. Will was feeling for the sword that was not hanging at his hip. All faces were looking up and around, towards the entrance to the garden.

The pistol fired again, sending a puff of smoke into the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the pistol's owner called, in a voice accustomed to be heard over the wailing of the wind and the crying of the gulls. "If you'll all just hold still and refrain from drawing any weapons - that includes you, Commodore Norrington - I'd be mightily obliged."

Will and Elizabeth exchanged looks of astonishment.

"Mr and Mrs Turner!" their gatecrasher said, making his way to them with a swagger and a sway, "my heartiest congratulations to you both." He lowered his voice an iota. "You've proved you're not a eunuch after all, lad."

"Jack," said Will, reprovingly.

Captain Jack Sparrow grinned, with a flash of gold teeth. "Surprised?"

"You could say that," Will agreed. "What are you doing here?"

"We," said Jack Sparrow, with a flourish of the pistol in his hand, indicating the other pirates who had followed him into the garden, "have come to spirit you and your lovely bride away, Mr Turner. A kidnap, if you will. To celebrate your wedding in the proper manner." He produced a pair of manacles from somewhere on his person, and displayed them briefly before snapping one on Will's left wrist and the other on Elizabeth's right.

"Captain Sparrow!" Elizabeth said, shaking her wrist and glaring at him.

"Now, now, Mrs Turner," the pirate remonstrated, "please come along quietly."

"Mr Sparrow, I must protest," Commodore Norrington broke in.

"It's Captain Sparrow!" said Jack Sparrow. "Don't worry, Commodore, I'll return 'em safe and sound in a few hours, savvy? Only a temporary kidnap." He took Elizabeth's free hand. "Come along, now."

And whilst the guests stood still in silent amazement, Mr and Mrs William Turner were pulled away from their wedding by a pirate captain wielding a pistol.

Nobody said much until they were sitting in a longboat being rowed across Port Royal's harbour towards the imposing dark sides of the ship that lay at anchor. Finally, Will spoke up, meeting Jack Sparrow's glinting dark eyes reproachfully.

"Couldn't you have said you were coming, Jack? We'd have happily come to meet you, but now ..."

"You'll be the talk of the town, just as you were before," Sparrow said, accentuating his point with a flutter of the fingers. "Well brought-up lass like the lovely Mrs Turner, marrying a blacksmith of ... uncertain parentage ... hardly a society marriage, was it?"

"Nevertheless ..." Will said, unable to think of a suitable response to the captain's reasoning.

"I'm a pirate, Will," Sparrow pointed out. "Got to do things in style. Couldn't resist. The look on their faces was worth it."

Despite himself, Will grinned. "It was rather good."

"I should be furious," Elizabeth said, leaning her head against Will's shoulder. "But somehow, I find I'm not."

"Ah, you've too much spirit for the likes of them," Jack Sparrow said. "There's a good reason you chose young Will over the Commodore, love."

"I love him," she said.

"But it's why you love him that matters," Sparrow said, as the longboat slid alongside the Black Pearl and a ladder was thrown down. "He's your freedom, Elizabeth, same as the Pearl's mine."

"I'll thank you not to compare my wife to a ship!" Will said, but he was not really angry. Indeed he smiled as he realised that he could now refer to Elizabeth as his wife. There would be no more halting "Miss Swann", no more timid glances when the Governor was looking the other way. She was his, to have and to hold forever more.

They climbed aboard the pirate ship, and a chorus of cheers went up from the crew. Will and Elizabeth stood and stared. The decks were usually kept immaculately clean and tidy; nothing to trip over, ropes neatly coiled, barrels out of the way. Now, the Black Pearl had been transformed. Lanterns swung from lines and shrouds, casting a warm glow over the whimsical decorations - ribbons and gold and even some bright, exotic flowers, scattered over the deck and hanging from the rigging.

"Jack," said Elizabeth, her eyes going to Captain Sparrow, "this is amazing."

Jack Sparrow stood in the centre of the deck, one hand idly gripping a sheet, looking somewhat like a gaudy parrot in the middle of a jungle in full bloom. "Thought we'd cheer the old lady up a bit, given there's a wedding," he said. "Now ... let's broach some rum, shall we; strike up a tune and have a proper pirates' celebration."

The crew cheered again, and soon the party was in full swing. Sparrow unlocked the manacles he had put on the Turners, and Will whirled Elizabeth around the deck in a wild jig. This was quite unlike the sober, proper wedding breakfast they had left behind. The rum flowed and raucous laughter rang out into the night.

The pirates were dancing too, sailors' hornpipes and reels to the tune of a fiddle. Captain Sparrow swung around his first mate Anamaria, and even coaxed a smile on to her normally severe face. After a few dances, he came to his guests and bowed low.

"Mrs Turner, I'd be delighted if you'd accord me the honour of a dance with you."

Elizabeth exchanged a glance with her husband, who nodded and moved back.

"I'd be honoured to accept," she said, formally, and held out her hand. Jack Sparrow took it, leading her on to a clear bit of deck, and then grinned.

"Ready, love?" The fiddle struck up, and he was off, taking Elizabeth's hands and leading her in a dizzying spin of a dance. Will stood back with a cup of rum and watched and laughed to see Sparrow's dark braids flying and Elizabeth's white dress floating out behind her. The crew clapped, speeding the musician up and encouraging him and the dancers with shouts and cheers. Their feet flew; Elizabeth's accustomed to dancing and Jack Sparrow's to the lethal rhythm of sword fights.

Finally, the dance ended with a flourish from the fiddler, and Sparrow and Elizabeth broke apart, both panting. The captain gave his partner a flamboyant bow.

"Splendid, 'Lizabeth," he said.

"Likewise," she managed, returning the bow with a slightly shaky courtesy. Will crossed to her and led her to a seat on a barrel, where she gratefully accepted a cup of rum to refresh her and a handkerchief to wipe the perspiration off her brow.

The fiddle player tucked his instrument under his arm, and the crew now stood back to allow their captain through. In his hands he held two wooden boxes, one much larger than the other.

"Well, lad," Jack Sparrow began, "so you're a married man. A married couple. And a mighty handsome couple at that."

The crew murmured their agreement, and Will and Elizabeth exchanged a pleased, embarrassed glance. Sparrow came up to them.

"Will, your father - well, he was one of the best friends I ever had." Will met the pirate captain's eyes, and saw for once no mischievous sparkle, no sign of impending trickery. "I was but a lad when I joined this ship, and he was like an older brother. Taught me a lot. He never deserved the death he got, and I'm sorry I had a part to play in that." Sparrow paused. "I reckon he'd be glad to see you today, with your bonny lass and doin' well for yourself."

"Thank you," Will said, and he meant it.

Jack Sparrow held out the smaller of the two boxes to Elizabeth. "Now, it wouldn't be a wedding without the soppy speeches and the presents, would it? We've had the speech, now for the latter. This is for you, love."

Elizabeth took the box, and opened it carefully. She let out a gasp, and Will leaned over to see what was inside. Amazed, he looked up at the captain.

"They're real," Jack Sparrow said. "And before you ask, they're legitimately bought, for once." He shrugged. "Well, save for the fact that they're bought with gold I looted from a Spanish merchant."

Elizabeth lifted the pearl necklace from the cushion it rested on, and held it up. In the flickering lantern light, the pearls gleamed darkly. "Black pearls," she said. "I've never seen any so lovely, Jack. They're wonderful. Thank you."

He acknowledged the thanks with a nod of his head, and passed Will the other box. "You've Cotton to thank for this one, Will. He's handy with a blade."

Intrigued, Will set the box on a barrel top and lifted the lid. It came right off, revealing a perfect scale model of a ship, carved out of some dark wood.

Will ran his fingers over the model. "I ... I don't know what to say," he said, turning to look at Cotton. "It's beautiful."

The mute sailor nodded at him, with a smile.

"She is beautiful," Sparrow corrected.

"She's the Pearl, isn't she?" Will said. He touched the flag flying from the stern of the tiny ship. "Right down to the Jolly Roger."

"So you won't be forgetting us," Jack Sparrow said.

"You're not easily forgettable, in any case," Will pointed out. "But thank you. Thank you all."

"Pirates look after their own," said Sparrow. "So next time we're in need of a safe berth in Port Royal, you can put in a good word for us with your friend Norrington."

Will found himself laughing. He put the lid back on his model ship. "Jack, you're incorrigible."

"That's because I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

They were rowed ashore a short while later, and escorted to the gates of the Governor's residence. Jack Sparrow kissed Elizabeth's hand, gave Will a brief, pungent embrace, and disappeared with his men back down the road to the harbour.

Will and Elizabeth watched them go.

"We have a real friend, there," Elizabeth said, eventually.

"More than a friend," Will said. "Family." He smiled, and tucked his wife's arm in his. "Come on. It's our wedding night, Mrs Turner, and I think we should be celebrating. Shall we?"

She turned eyes filled with love to his. "Let's."

He led her in through the gates of the mansion, one arm linked with hers, and the other around his pirate gift. And at that moment, William Turner, blacksmith, pirate and newly-wed, knew that he had never been happier.

© Joanne Harris 2005-2007