Jealousy
The news about Commodore Norrington's worthy deputy had spread with lightning speed within the small community of Port Royal, and there was hardly a man or woman not eager to set eyes on him at last. He was praised for his military achievements, supposed to be dashingly good-looking, and even his pleasant manners couldn't be commended in a warmer fashion, although only few persons could boast to have encountered the man himself yet.
Henrietta Van Dyke however wasn't among his admirers, though she couldn't have explained herself as to why. She knew Elizabeth for eight years now, and not only her latest engagement implied that she would wish for a similar relation for her best friend, as Henrietta well knew. She was well aware of Elizabeth's scheming, and perhaps this was the reason why she felt more reserve than she would otherwise have. But a removal from Port Royal, as would inevitably have followed a marriage to an officer belonging to Nassau Port, was quite out of the question. She was very fond of her parents, and despite all her jokes about the town, she liked it excessively, and wouldn't leave if she could avoid it. She had been to Nassau some years ago, and hadn't found any pleasure during the entire duration of the journey. The inhabitants of this place had appeared too conceited, entirely prone to superficial delights, and all in all, Nassau Port would have been the last place on earth that she would have moved to voluntarily.
But it wasn't only the Fortuna's berth keeping her from a possible attachment to Captain Filister. He was a very fine sort of fellow, without a doubt, and even if she was far less romantically inclined than her dear friend Elizabeth, she expected more of a man that she should spend the rest of her days with. His great mobility, showing itself also in his alacrity of mind, was no exact virtue in Henrietta's eyes – she was more disposed to stay at home, and have a husband staying with her. Thus originated her dislike of engaging herself to a sailor in fact, and she would rather wait for a respectable tradesman like her father was than binding herself to a member of any nation's Navy.
Elizabeth had never accepted these objections; in her youth, her romantic ideal had been a pirate, the essence of a homeless life, and even after encountering real pirates who would correct her false expectations, she still saw no reason for any woman's reluctance of being a sailor's bride. Henrietta's composed temper would accustom herself to the lovely Captain, until she would finally see how narrow-minded her old views had been, for sure.
Until that, more pressing issues occupied her mind, namely the dire need of some profession for her beloved Will that would advance him as soon as possible. She wouldn't acknowledge it, but she understood what her father had tried to make intelligible to her – five, or heaven beware, eight years were a long time for an engagement. She couldn't wait so long to become Mrs William Turner; well, she would wait, but nevertheless it was worthwhile contemplating how the process might be quickened. They had talked about him joining the Navy, and she had little doubts that he would distinguish himself soon. Sailing was in his blood, and there couldn't be a better sword fighter in the whole Spanish Main. But it would still be too slow for her, and parting with him appeared like something that she could impossibly cope with. Seeing him sail away from Port Royal with uncertain comeback – she was already worried enough for James Norrington's well-being, so how should she endure dearest Will's absence? Will on the other hand fancied a Navy career, finding it the only profession that held some prospects in store for him. He did not seem to mind a long time of separation, as she occasionally thought with some vexation, but mostly, she was too madly in love with him to feel any discord.
Dear Will – what a gentle person he was. How timid! He indeed blushed when she addressed him tenderly, reaching out for her hand just to press it with great animation, and his kisses… No girl in the world had ever been kissed like that, Elizabeth was positively certain. There was longing tinged with delicacy, and his soft brown eyes sort of hypnotised her whenever he was closing in for a kiss. How she ever could have considered taking any man but him was beyond her understanding. Admittedly, she had accepted James' proposal to rescue dear Will, but then, she had been aware, too, that James would have complied anyway. That day – she couldn't but blush when thinking of it. She had just asked him to save Will as a wedding gift, he had been bewildered but agreed nevertheless, and then, he had led her to the rail and tried to speak to her, ask her how 'sincere' her consent had been… She hadn't really lied when telling him that she would have married him however he had decided – for had they not set out to follow the Black Pearl and therefore her beloved Will, he would have been doomed and the only reason for Elizabeth's reluctance to become Mrs Norrington would have died with him.
Still, she felt burning shame when recollecting that conversation. It wasn't in the Commodore's nature to come out of his shell, so even the final consent of his beloved hadn't made him dance with joy. But there had been a glow in his eyes, on his cheeks, some movements quite unguarded that had betrayed his inner felicity, Elizabeth had spotted them very well. He was a fine man, she once again repeated to herself, with a little sigh and a rush of complexion – why, oh why, had she been inflicted to hurt the feelings of so delicate and amiable a man?
He deserved a truly loving heart, no woman could be good enough to match such virtues, especially not somebody like herself. Next to her desire to see Will making a fortune within the next two years, there was only one matter pressing her so badly – good Commodore Norrington finding a worthy wife. Wryly she smirked with the idea that both pursuits were equally hard to accomplish!
It was quite ironic how many people had set their hearts on good Captain Filister, for not only Elizabeth plotted to make her friend Henrietta Van Dyke fall happily in love with him. Her own father, accustomed to his daughter's follies, had every hope to see his dear Elizabeth realising the worthiness of such a man. For a start, the Captain was in fact some years younger than Commodore Norrington and therefore much closer to Elizabeth in age. That could only come in handy. Secondly, as often acknowledged and praised by herself, he was a man of good humour, and being a cheerful spirit himself, Governor Swann rated this trait very highly. Elizabeth had a playful, sometimes untamed disposition, so she would need a husband equalling her in wits to capture her heart. If only good Captain Filister had come to Port Royal half a year earlier – the Governor had no doubt that she would have preferred him instantly to the boy she had picked now. With all his qualities, Will Turner couldn't be called a wit, not even his benevolent fiancée could claim that much. She certainly would have traded a set of wistful brown eyes for the sake of sparkling blue ones, her father was sure!
Perhaps the Captain hadn't so pretty a face as young Will Turner, or the noble straight features of the Commodore, but surely, he was more dashing than any of these. He looked very snappy in his blue coat, and his air of masculinity must impress any young woman, the Governor found with some satisfaction. Will Turner was too young yet to achieve such stature, and the good Commodore would never achieve it at all. He was too slender, almost delicate in built, much more a gentleman than a man of war, and hadn't he be the younger son, he would have made a good figure in St. James, or other courtly places.
The Royal Navy, Governor Swann reflected earnestly, attracted young men of all sorts, united in only one aspect – they were the more unlucky ones. The lower ranks were filled with fellows who would find no other living than by joining the King's armies, and as for the higher ones, they contained almost exclusively second- or third-born sons of British gentility. These young men, born into good society but without any prospect of maintaining themselves without profession, deemed the Governor to be undeservedly neglected by Providence. The oldest son was always the sole heir to the family's fortune, so was the tradition, and saved the many great estates from being torn in shares of inheritance. The youngest son could hope for a career as a clergyman, according to the same traditions, provided by his oldest brother with a suitable parish. Only those in the middle had little to bargain but their own health and ambition, forced to go to war or sail out into the world to earn some merits and hopefully money, driven out of their comfortable homes at the age of seventeen or eighteen. It was a pity, and being the Governor of a tropical merchant harbour, he had seen many, many unhappy boys serving their first of many seasons. The Commodore was one example, but in fact, almost every other officer shared his fate. Lieutenant Gillette for example – the younger son of a baronet. Lieutenant Crawford, his predecessor – the grandson of Lord Winworth. Even Admiral Thompson of Nassau Port shared his inferiors' sad stories, being the son of an impoverished gentleman.
Briefly, to be precise: before Captain Filister's arrival, Governor Swann had intended to assist his future son-in-law's career and buy him a commission to join the higher ranks of His Majesty's Navy, therefore promoting Elizabeth's sooner happiness. He wouldn't endure to see his dearest child fade away with time and weariness. But right now, he intended to wait some longer, until Commodore Norrington's return at least. As long as Captain Filister was around, he wouldn't give up hope that Elizabeth could fall for him, and until that, he'd do nothing that could increase her optimism.
Only one heart in the whole of Port Royal was somewhat disquieted with Captain Filister's stay. All the stories about him and his great deeds only aggravated young Will Turner's anxiety, who had once met him when the praised Captain had come to Mr Brown, Will's alleged master, to order a good sword.
The Captain had been very agreeable indeed; he was not at all stiff like Commodore Norrington, but easy-going and open, chatting animatedly about blades and techniques and commending Will for his excellent knowledge. But the kinder he had been, the more troubled Will had become – such a man constantly being around Elizabeth… He dreaded the implications. His beloved did enhance her professions of indifference, declaring what a lovely match the Captain would be for her friend Henrietta or any other girl. But Will was too self-conscious to deceive himself – all the objections that had kept her from attaching herself to Commodore Norrington were missing in his deputy, who possessed everything she could see in her fiancé, and lacked all his real or imagined faults.
And there was yet another thing adding to his dismay, though he scolded himself for thinking of it. As unaltered as she rightfully claimed her affection for himself, as suspicious had been her conduct nevertheless. Not only her temporary engagement to Commodore Norrington seemed to prove this, much worse for Will Turner's peace of mind was another episode. He had never found out enough about the events of the night on that nameless island together with Jack Sparrow to be perfectly satisfied. The prospect of certain death, a shocking amount of consumed Rum, the company of a true pirate, 'daft' to be sure, but also disturbingly charming… He was too tactful to implore further than she would tell him herself, but his nagging fears were fed by some random remark of Jack himself, on that most wonderful of all days. 'Elisabeth, darling – it would never have worked between us – I'm sorry' – what was that supposed to mean?
He loved her nevertheless, this wasn't the problem. No matter what had happened in that night, it blurred nothing of her perfection in Will's eyes. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to know if something indeed had gone on between them, although he would have welcomed a sure proof that it had not. For if it had, it was another sign of Elizabeth being not quite as steady as he would have wished, facing the long-time engagement ahead of them, with himself at sea for the greatest part of the years possibly. She was willing to go any length to achieve what she wanted, he knew that, giving him hope – but had she shown the same determination to lure Jack into helping her? Jack, so much was certain, would never have said 'no', and who could blame him. He did not claim to be a gentleman, an honourable scoundrel maybe, but rejecting a lovely and desperate young girl? Their short stay in Tortuga had shown Will how popular Jack could be with the ladies – if this term was proper for the women inhabiting that wretched place, and together with Elizabeth's firm will to rescue Will no matter what it would take – better not think about it, he reminded himself time and time again.
Had Elizabeth been able to explore the bottom of her fiancé's heart – she would have been shocked indeed, but also capable to clear up all misunderstandings immediately. Nothing had happened in that night, she'd rather have kissed the lovely Commodore than take into consideration to let herself be conquered by Jack Sparrow! In fact she found the mere idea so thoroughly absurd that it had never come to her mind to speak more of it than she already had. She was quite fond of Jack, to be sure, but in an odd way, she would compare him to her own father, rather than regarding him as a possible suitor. Not that he hadn't tried it, but even his peculiar compliments for herself had been nothing but an expression of his general style. Not unreasonably, she had compared him to her own father, though twenty years younger and as different on the first sight as any man could be – but on the second, she saw several similarities. Both men had a sense of decorum that was bordering on ridiculousness – where her father tried to appear the perfect gentleman, and often failed because he exaggerated so badly, Jack Sparrow did everything to give himself the air of outward eccentricity, which was just as fake as Governor Swann's over-great dignity. Her father reigned Port Royal and thought himself to be incredibly successful in doing so, ignorant of the fact that it wasn't his own skill, but Commodore Norrington's brave and clever policy that had advanced the town so well. Jack on the other hand deemed himself to be a hero of the seas, a true libertine, ignoring that it was sheer luck and numerous coincidences that had spared him the noose over and over again, for example Will's and her own interference the last time when he should have been hanged.
But what they most had in common was a tender fondness on Elizabeth's side despite all their faults and follies; it stood so sharp in relief against the other men she knew, dearest Will, the good Commodore, or presently, the most pleasant Captain Filister, who were all flawless and perfect in their own way. She couldn't but be endeared to those little imperfections that her father and Jack displayed so often, surrounded by men who were their superior, but utterly ignorant of this.
No, Will Turner had no reason to mistrust his worshipped Elizabeth, no reason at all. As extended as her regard for the new Captain surely was, as firm was her will to line him up with Henrietta, and she had no further interest in the man worth mentioning. So far, she hadn't yet succeeded; Henrietta was stubborn and the Captain still mourning for his own loss, but it could only be a matter of time to make these two kindred spirits realise that they were meant for each other.