Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom

She laughed, then hastily put her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,”
she said. “I wasn’t laughing at you.”
“Yes, you were, and I don’t blame you a bit,” Jack said. “I’m
perpetually impoverished, love. Can’t hang on to money to save me
life.”
She smiled at him. “I’ll buy the drinks,” she said.
“That wouldn’t be proper,” Jack protested, not very forcefully.
“Why not? Pirates are always buying each other drinks.”
Jack waited at the foot of Venganza’s gangplank while
Esmeralda went aboard. She reappeared eventually, wearing the
rose-colored gown she’d worn the first time he’d seen her, with an
ivory shawl flung over her shoulders. She came down the gangplank
cautiously, and he put out a hand to help her step off. “That’s the dress
you were wearing the day you arrived at Shipwreck Cove,” Jack said.
“It is.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Do you like it?”
“I do,” he said. “That dress is nearly as beautiful as what’s inside
it.”
Esmeralda’s eyes widened. “Oh, Jack,” she said. “You’ll spoil me.
That pretty speech was worthy of Christophe.”
“The difference is that I said it because it happens to be true.” His
tone was wry as he offered her his arm.
When they reached The Drunken Lady, Jack was surprised to find
Steve Seymour cooking and tending bar, and the pimply-faced youth
waiting tables. There was no sign of Marie. Jack headed up to the bar.
“Good evening, mate,” he said. “Two rum punches, please.”
As Steve placed the filled tankards before them, Esmeralda laid
some coins on the bar. “Where is Marie?” she asked, glancing around.
Seeing the expression that crossed Steve’s broad, good-natured
features, she added, “I hope she’s well?”
The tall, burly tavern keeper hesitated, then replied, gruffly, “Thank
you for your concern, Lady Esmeralda. I’m sorry to tell you, the missus
ain’t feeling well tonight.”
“Where is she? What ails her? Can I be of help?” Esmeralda
asked.
Steve mopped up spilled drink from the bar with a filthy rag. “I’d
rather not say, miss,” he said, finally.