The Dictates of Conscience
Chapter Two: Conduct Befitting a Gentleman
As he arrived, Norrington's horse was led away by two bustling servants, and he walked up the stairs to the red and gilt door of the governor's mansion. The butler (who had watched Norrington carefully as he came up the path- there was no sense ending up like the last holder of his post) answered the captain's businesslike knocks and showed him to the parlor.
"Miss Swann will be ready momentarily," he said briskly, and left Norrington alone in the richly furnished room. Norrington had come here only once before, when Governor Swann had invited him personally to tell him of the Admiralty's intention of making him commodore for a mission to Nassau- althought that had been interrupted with Elizabeth's kidnapping.
Evidence of that fateful night was all around him, as he examined the room, although he never left his chair. The chandelier had been replaced, Norrington noticed, and a crimson Persian rug didn't quite cover the light-colored patch of new floorboards beneath it. That theBlack Pearl had been able to reach the mansion at all astonished him, especially as he remembered the heavy fire that was also directed at Fort Charles. The ship had to be equipped with carronades, and not particularly heavy ones, for it to be so fast; maybe a few stern- and bow-chasers could reach the hill, and yet they had bombarded the fort from quite a distance. If Sparrow handled his guns half as well as that Barbossa had, perhaps it was for the better that he had lost the pirate in the hurricane. Troubling.
As Norrington reflected on the damage that nine-pound roundshot could do to a china cabinet, Elizabeth descended from her room and brought his mind uneasily back to the situation at hand. The mansion's wounds from the pirate attack were healed much more easily than those of its inhabitants. She was beautiful, in a pale blue silk robe à l'anglaise and white gloves. Norrington rose and bowed. "Good evening, Miss Swann." He swallowed the impulse to use her christian name and to compliment her appearance. Elizabeth looked very well this evening, as always, but her expression confused Norrington into silence. She did not look angry, as he had feared, or even melancholy, which he had dreaded even more; she was simply distant, as if determined to keep her mind elsewhere the entire evening. Norrington was sure she would imagine Will's face in place of his- if she could imagine the restless blacksmith taking an interest in the symphony at all, he mused. No, that was wrong, he thought. Elizabeth was the impatient one, and Will would not take her to a performance because he knew she would probably not enjoy it.
"Good evening, captain," Elizabeth said, and made a small courtesy. "Shall we go?"
Norrington nodded, and gestured for her to exit first. She walked hurriedly to the door, which the butler silently opened. As she was stepping over the threshold, her toe caught the edge of her petticoat, and she stumbled a little as a quiet rip of tearing fabric was heard. "Damn it," she said under her breath, and Norrington almost laughed at interruption of their gravity. "It's all right, Miss Swann, just come upstairs and I'll get you another one," said the kind-faced maid standing on the steps.
"No, we haven't the time for me to get dressed again. I'll just tear the hem off, and you can put a new one on later," Elizabeth said, and reached down to grasp the light muslin edged with lace.
"Wait, you needn't do that. I can mend it for now, it will only take a minute." Elizabeth was surprised to hear Norrington offering to fix her petticoat.
"You know how to sew?" she asked incredulously
Norrington smiled. "When one is a young midshipman, faced with a particularly fastidious captain who insists that his officers look like dandies, necessity is an excellent teacher," he said, as he pulled a small needle case and a bit of thread from an inner coat pocket. She was sure it would be more appropriate to politely deny his offer and let Mary fix it, but she was curious about the captain's apparent skill and quietly waved the maid away as Norrington dropped to one knee. He lifted the skirt just barely enough to get his hand under the fabric and brought the needle up through the back. Shifting his angle akwardly for more light, Elizabeth called to the butler. "Get him something to sit on, please, Parker." Norrington protested that he was perfectly comfortable, but a few seconds later the butler was standing behind him with a low three-legged stool from the kitchen. He sat down reluctantly, but still kept his work as close to the ground as possible.
"Oh, honestly," Elizabeth said, exasperated, and lifted the petticoat up so that Norrington's hands were at a level with his knees. The captain blushed, his white wig emphasizing the red of his cheeks as he caught a glimpse of her embroidered silk shoe and stockinged ankle. He finished off the end of the thread and smoothed the petticoat back in place. Elizabeth lifted her gown to examine the work. "Neatly done, captain," she said. As they walked down the stairs (careful to hold her skirts well out of the way of her feet this time) she continued. "modest, chaste, and good at needlework. You make a far better lady than I, James."
Norrington smiled, relieved that the initial coolness of their meeting had receded a little. "I should hope those qualities are just as desirable in a gentleman."
Elizabeth looked off into the low evening sun. "Perhaps," she said, and climbed into the waiting carriage.
She avoided his furtive glances as they took their opposite seats. He was nervous, she could tell. Well, at least he felt some qualms about treating her like a silly little girl who was too foolish to take care of herself. They could not talk about that, though. Elizabeth knew he wanted to, knew he wanted to say he was sorry for Will and sorry for going along with this charade, but Captain Norrington had to keep his composure.
When her father had told her of Norrington's "invitation" she knew it could not have truly been James' choice. He avoided her as much as possible; Weatherby Swann must have put him up to it, and Norrington was too bound by duty not to follow the governor's wishes. It had taken enormous strength of will for him to let her go; releasing her from the engagement had been testament to the magnitude of his affections. She hated to hurt him, but she could never be the wife of a naval captain. She remembered when she was young, after hearing Lieutenant Norrington's pirate stories she wanted to come with him and fight in those stirring battles…but that idea had been firmly crushed as she grew older, and realized that Norrington's wife would be left behind on shore, only to sit and wait patiently far away from adventure. She loved Will because he was different. Rash at times, yes, but he always acted exactly as his conscience told him, without thought of rules or limitations. And she could share in his adventures, because he was not so thoroughly entwined in the system of rank, merit and tradition into which James had firmly rooted himself, which had no use for females except as ornaments and incentives for which to fight. The captain could not make up for that fact, no matter how much he loved her.
She turned her head ever so slightly and gazed at him out of the corner of her eye. He sat motionless, his eyes closed. She wondered if he really liked the symphony. Was his seeming concentration an attempt to appreciate the music, or to forget about the uncomfortable situation at hand? She turned back to the orchestra, only to surreptitiously peek at him once more. His eyes remained shut. Emboldened, she looked at him more openly. He was so still, quite the opposite of her Will, who she was sure would have been fidgeting by now. He would have whispered in her ear and whisked her away between movements to dance under the stars outside, with the sea breeze blowing away any notions of propriety… She felt tears rolling down her cheek at the thought of him. Reaching for her handkerchief, she stifled the urge for a decent wail and contented herself with a small sigh. She nearly jumped as beside her, the captain sighed even more deeply. Sneaking yet another glance, she finally realized the situation. She had not expected to laugh the whole evening, yet suddenly, inexplicably, she began to giggle. Norrington let out a soft snore. She could control herself no longer, and a strangled half sob, half laugh burst from her lips. The captain awoke with a start, and blushed for the second time as he saw Elizabeth's bury her face in a square of linen to stifle her sniggering. He grabbed her arm and walked hastily to the exit. Before the attendant could even reach the handle, they had rushed into the foyer and shut the door behind them. The moment the latch clicked shut Elizabeth's laugh echoed through the high ceilings. Norrington, still bright red but gamely clutching Elizabeth's elbow in an attempt at dignity, quietly asked her if she would like to leave early. She nodded, and allowed him to lead her to their waiting carriage. The ride was quiet, save for the captain's murmured apologies for spoiling the evening. Elizabeth smiled at him. "It's nothing, James," she answered, "I'm sure you are exhausted from your work." He nodded solemnly, which made her giggle again. Embarrassed, he took up a great interest in the scene passing by their window. Elizabeth settled back in her seat, strangely content. The great captain is human after all, she thought. Strangely, the idea gave her hope, and she was lost in her own daydreams until they arrived once more at the governor's mansion.
Authors' Note: A little fluffier episode... but don't worry, there will be some drama. For now, anyway, you're being spoiled by frequent updating, due to a decently sized stash of already written material. Closer to the end it's a bit spottier, so enjoy it while it lasts!
Still co-written by Quercus and La Romanesque