Redemption
Chapter 1
"I want you to make sure we have all the necessary provisions for our voyage, Gillette," James Norrington said to his lieutenant, his jade eyes serious as he stared at him. The lieutenant nodded firmly. James looked down at the map on the table before him and sighed wearily. "I will have to map out our journey and decide which is the best route to take…"
The tall navy officer was leaning over the map with his hands resting on either side of the table. He and Gillette were standing in one of the covered pavilions of the fort, discussing plans for their upcoming voyage.
Gillette furrowed his brow and moved to stand beside the Commodore. "I've heard that there is going to be heavy rain tonight, sir…"
James looked troubled. "Mmm…that will make our voyage more difficult…" He paused and walked away from the table to step just outside the covered pavilion. He critically surveyed the stormy blue skies and noted the cool wind that had started.
Frowning slightly, he walked back under the pavilion. Gillette looked uneasy.
"Do you think we'll be able to sail, sir?" he asked.
James looked sternly at him. "We will sail. I can't let Sparrow get away and gallivant about the Caribbean any way he wishes! I must seize him and have him arrested at once."
Gillette looked like he was about to protest but then swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, sir. Would you like me to tell the men to get the supplies ready now?"
"Yes, please do," James said and Gillette left the pavilion. James's gaze fell on the map and he pursed his lips, feeling very unsure about the whole voyage. James always had been a man who liked to be sure of himself. Being an important navy officer, he had to have belief and assurance in himself and in his decisions.
After much debating, James decided which route they would take and rolled up the map as a light rain started to fall. Thunder rumbled in the distance and from the corner of his eye he could see people running for shelter from the rain. Just as he was grabbing his sailing devices, his coachman, Jamison appeared on the steps of the pavilion.
"Sir, I have the carriage ready for you." The coachman was breathless and his plump face was red.
James glanced at him and started to walk down the steps. "Thank you, Jamison."
"The rain's gettin' heavier by the minute sir," the coachman remarked as they walked swiftly toward the carriage. The round, stout man looked as if he struggled to walk because of all the weight he carried around his stomach while James was nimble in contrast. "Everybody's sayin' it's goin' to be a bad storm. Aye, look at those skies! I'm gettin' goosebumps just lookin' at 'em!"
The coachman shivered and hurried ahead of James to open the door for him. "A storm is not what I hoped for…" James replied glumly as he stepped into the carriage. "I have a voyage tomorrow."
He crouched as he entered the carriage and sat down on the cushioned seat. The coachman had paused and left the door open for a moment to respond.
"Yes, I hear you have a trip tomorrow!" he said enthusiastically. The commodore nodded mutely and a grin came to Jamison's face. "After that Jack Sparrow, huh?"
"Yes…" James answered tersely, his eyes holding annoyance in their expression.
The coachman laughed. "Good luck!" he said before closing the carriage door.
Left alone to his thoughts, James slowly closed his eyes. "What have I gotten myself into?" he murmured.
"The Commodore should be here any minute…" Mrs. Baker assured the young girl standing a few feet in front of her. The middle-aged woman smiled kindly and clasped her plump hands. Unlike the other maids in the Commodore's estate, this woman wore a red gown with a striped red and orange stomacher. Her petticoats were red and the only article of clothing that wasn't red was her white cap.
Cassandra Lockhart, the young girl standing in James's large and imposing front hall, glanced periodically at her and the other servants bustling around the house. She had arrived from Port York in northern Jamaica where her fishing town had been attacked by pirates. She had come here for protection and work since she had lost it all at home.
She had learned that Mrs. Baker was the head maid of the household and that she was a very kindly woman. Cassandra had arrived earlier that afternoon, now it was close to evening. Mrs. Baker had shown Cassandra around the mansion to make her feel more comfortable and to pass the time until James came home.
Cassandra had arrived at Commodore Norrington's house asking for work and a place to live. Mrs. Baker was at once struck by pity when she looked at the girl. Dressed in a brown dress and petticoats, with a dirtied white apron, she had meekly asked for shelter. Her dark brown hair had escaped her cap and a few loose ringlets that fell from the cap framed her face. Mrs. Baker had let Cassandra in and told her to sit by the fire for warmth; the day had been cool and rainy. When Cassandra had told her story, she had attracted the attention of much of the household and they listened with sympathy, trying to offer tea and food.
Mrs. Baker had found the girl polite and eloquent in her speech. She was a bit confused at her cultured way of talking because it was obvious that she was of the lower class. What the head maid liked best about her though, was her serene nature and the hint of shyness in her smile and voice.
Now they were both standing in the hall because Cassandra had insisted on waiting there until the Commodore came home. She thought that the Commodore might dismiss her and was prepared to leave with her bag and cloak if he did. Mrs. Baker assured her that there was no way that he would send her out on the streets without any certainty of shelter but Cassandra replied that she didn't want to offend him by sitting in his parlor.
Mrs. Baker had given up trying to convince her otherwise and was now waiting with her in the hall as well, so that she could explain everything to the Commodore.
Cassandra, meanwhile, was feeling nervous and apprehensive. She had heard good things about the well-known navy gentleman but she was worried what reaction she would get. Here she was, a complete stranger standing in his house, asking for work. It also didn't help that she was of the working class- she was a fisherman's daughter and for extra income she had worked underneath a seamstress, helping to make and mend clothes.
She was slightly embarrassed by the clothes she wore now and a blush burned her cheeks as the butler in a white wig eyed her attire critically. She was dressed very plainly and she hoped that her physical appearance made up for that. She had been told by friends and family that she had a beautiful, clear complexion and delicate features. She hadn't really noticed these things about herself and her one pride had always been her hair. It was long, wavy and a rich dark brown colour.
She wrung her hands nervously and turned her head when she heard the sound of the carriage approaching. When it suddenly stopped and she heard the carriage door shut firmly, Cassandra's heart began to pound harder. Her legs shook with anxiety and she clasped her hands tightly, turning them red.
Cassandra felt Mrs. Baker's gaze on her and turned to her. The head maid offered her a comforting smile and gently patted her hand before moving to the door to welcome the master inside. Cassandra's breath stopped as she heard the click of his shoes when he came up the stairs.
The butler was quick to open the door and James Norrington stepped inside.
"Hello, sir! Here, let me take your cloak." Mrs. Baker offered. The Commodore handed her his dripping cloak and she hastily wrung it out outside the door. He had not yet noticed Cassandra and the butler was asking to take his hat.
The sight of him made her stomach do flip-flops; his very presence was commanding and imposing. The heavy splattering of rain against the ground greeted her ears, followed by a roll of ominous thunder and then it was muffled as the butler shut the door.
He turned and noticed her for the first time. She froze. A faint look of surprise and confusion crossed his face. What held her most were his eyes- they were a clear green colour and right now they expressed his confusion.
His brow furrowed slightly. "Hello…" he said hesitantly. Cassandra imagined he was uncomfortable with her.
She smiled. "Good day, sir." Her voice was hoarse because she had lost her voice and the stress of the past few days had taken its toll on her.
A wry smirk lifted his lips and he remarked dryly to her, "I wouldn't exactly call this a good day. The weather is horrendous." As Mrs. Baker turned back to them, she noted her master's surprise and situated herself beside him.
Cassandra grinned shyly and nodded in agreement. A genuine smile came to his own lips at her reaction to his words and he stared at her with a hint of interest in his green eyes.
"Uh, sir, this is Cassandra Lockhart"- Mrs. Baker told him and he turned to look at her. "She came looking for work."
He fixed his eyes on Cassandra. "Where have you come from?" he asked in a low voice.
This question brought a rush of emotions to her and she answered in a shaky breath, "Port York…"
He frowned at her trembling voice. "Come into my office so we can discuss the matter." With that, he turned and walked away.
Cassandra felt fear rush through her at his request and she followed him slowly. Alone with him in his office? She fixed fearful, wide eyes on Mrs. Baker who grabbed her arm before she went and whispered, "Don't worry, my dear. He wouldn't hurt a fly."
After hearing this she relaxed and followed after him. He led her through a drawing room, which was lavishly decorated and then finally to a small hallway off the drawing room. The corridor had two dead ends but one door, which she guessed led to his office.
He unlocked the door and glanced over his shoulder to check if she was there. Cassandra was close behind him and was awed by their height difference. She didn't even reach his shoulder she was so small.
When he finally opened the door, he stepped inside first and then held it open for her. She glanced at him as she entered and thanked him. She stopped and surveyed the office carefully.
It had white walls with a large curtained window behind the desk and it offered a view of the exotic, tropical garden behind the house. Cassandra could see various tropical trees and a colorful bird flew from one tree to the next. She turned her attention back to the office. On the left and right wall there were bookshelves filled with red, blue and green books, outlined in gold print. In front of her sat a mahogany desk with engravings and behind it a high-backed chair. Maps of England, the seas and the world were posted to the walls. Various sailing devices, another map, papers and a quill and pen were on the desk.
"Please take a seat." he told her and she started at his voice. It was so deep and…mellow. She smiled. Any girl would swoon at the sound of that voice. She slowly sat down in the cushioned chair opposite him and he walked around the desk to sit down as well.
When they were both seated, he folded his hands on top of the desk and looked intently at her with his green eyes. "Why did you come here, Miss Lockhart?"
She took a deep breath and looked him honestly in the eyes. "I came here because the town I lived in…the town I lived in was-was…attacked…" She couldn't say anymore because a sob choked her. She covered her mouth and avoided his gaze.
"By whom?" he cried, so overcome by fear and alarm that he forgot her pain.
She sniffled and her breath had quickened. "Fr-from p-pirates," she sobbed. A look of horror came to his face. Jack Sparrow was not the only threat in the Caribbean then. "I-I was one of the survivors…They burned and looted our port town…My-my parents disappeared…" She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know if they are dead or alive…" Her voice was strained and croaky.
She lifted her tear-streaked face to him and she noticed the look of pity that came to his face. He searched through his jacket pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "Here you are…"
She accepted it gratefully. "Thank you…" she replied softly, dabbing her eyes with it.
"You're welcome. I am sorry for your loss…"
"Thank you…" she repeated, not quite sure what to say. Cassandra tried not to meet his eyes and continued to dab at her face.
"Miss Lockhart, what previous experience do you have?"
At this she blushed and murmured, "I have experience doing household chores and I worked under a seamstress." She looked up at him and saw that the Commodore looked like he was thinking.
"What kind of worker are you?" he asked, grabbing a pile of paperwork and sifting through it.
She paused a moment and thought out her words. "Well, I am hard-working; I worked eight hours a day for Madame Chevalier all week, excluding Sunday…I am also a fast learner," she told him earnestly. He was listening carefully to her and Cassandra found she liked his attention. "My father, he-he was a fisherman and he taught me how to fish…I caught about six fish the day after he taught me…" she trailed off, slightly embarrassed.
He was silent for a moment and Cassandra saw the pensive look on his face. "Very well," he said decisively. "You're hired. You sound like a good worker."
Her face lit up. "Oh, thank you sir!" she cried, forgetting her manners. "You don't know how much this means to me!"
James watched the expression on the girl's face and then smiled gently. Her sparkling eyes and radiant smile could warm the heart of even the meanest scoundrel. Her cheeks were flushed a lovely red and tendrils of rich brown hair escaping her cap flowed around her face.
"I understand that you have lost very much," he replied, looking through his paperwork. "Assisting you is the least I can do…"
"What would you like me to do now?" she asked helpfully. He glanced at her.
"Well, I think I'll let you get settled down and then Mrs. Baker will show you the ropes…" he informed her, smiling amiably.
She returned the smile and he dismissed her. Cassandra left his office with a happy heart; she had found safety and hope of a new life at last. She looked forward to what was to come next.
TBC! Tell me what you think! Hope you enjoyed!