Gillette returned shortly, and found Norrington sitting at his desk looking at the will with his head in his hands.
"Commodore, are you all right?" Gillette asked.
"Yes, fine," Norrington said dismissively, folding the will and putting it in his pocket. "Is the young lady settled in?"
"Yes, sir. May I ask who she is?"
Norrington hesitated before answering. "She's my niece," he said slowly. "Laura. My brother's child."
"I didn't know you had a brother."
"He doesn't keep in touch, and apparently, he has been dead for a year now," Norrington explained. "In his will, he appointed me as Laura's guardian."
Gillette looked as if he didn't know how to respond. "What of the girl's mother?" he asked.
"I..." Norrington faltered for a moment. "I don't know. The document isn't specific as to her wherabouts, though it would be my assumption that she is also deceased."
"The poor child," Gillette commented. "That would make her an orphan."
"It would," Norrington realized.
Gillette left then, and Norrington returned to reading the report. It took him an unnecessarily long amount of time to finish the task, due to the fact that his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Laura and her parentage.
Her uncle, the Commodore, was a good man, Laura decided. He had seemed a bit aloof, and very formal, but Laura assumed that was just his Navy training taking over when his instincts couldn't decide how to act. One couldn't be half-Sparrow without being a good judge of character.
At thirteen, Laura was almost the spitting image of her mother. Almost. She had her father's eyes. As an only child, she had been very close to both of her parents, and their deaths had been devastating. She was grateful that her father had thought to appoint guardians for her, and that he had given her instructions on where and how to find them.
After her parents' deaths, Laura had decided that it would be easier to find her uncle the Commodore than it would be to find her uncle the pirate. She had done what she could to earn money to buy herself passage to Port Royal.
It had taken her the better part of a year to actually reach her destination, however, as she often found herself landing in some trading port after only a week or two of sailing. Then she would have to find work again, no easy task for a girl her age, and find herself another ship whose captain was willing to take on an extra passenger.
Finally, Laura had been able to find a Navy ship that was transporting soldiers to be stationed in the Caribbean. From there, she had been able to find passage on a merchant ship bound for Port Royal.
Sitting in her room at the inn, Laura unpacked what few possessions she had brought with her. A change of clothes, a pistol, and a journal, in which she had never written. She wore her mother's wedding ring on a chain around her neck, and in her pocket she carried her father's compass.
This room was luxurious, Laura thought, compared to the living arrangements she was used to. She had a private bath, a four-post bed, a mirror, and a dresser and night stand. She decided that the Commodore must be either very kind or very rich. Or very both.
It grew late, and the sun set. Laura always missed her parents most after dark, but she hardly ever cried anymore. She was thirteen, almost a lady, and she had inherited a sense of stubborn pride from both her parents that would not allow her to show any more weakness than was absolutely necessary. Tonight, however, Laura couldn't help thinking of her father and longing for his company. Clutching the compass in her hand, she let the tears fall softly as she drifted off to sleep.
Short chapter, sorry, and I know it's kind of slow. The next chapter will be more interesting, I think. Drop a review with questions/comments/ect!
