Port Royal
November, 1754
"Papa, Papa, you'll never believe it!" Elizabeth stopped running when she reached him and bent over, hands on knees, to catch her breath. "I can hardly believe it myself – James is getting married!"
Norrington alighted carefully from his horse and took his daughter by the shoulders. "James? Getting married? I thought I'd never see the day that boy would settle down! Well, don't keep me in suspense. To whom?"
"To Cathy!" Elizabeth burst out laughing. "My sister-in-law, our childhood friend! I didn't even know they'd been courting!"
"It's news to me as well," Norrington muttered. "So it's final, then? The date has been set?"
"All the arrangements are being made!" Elizabeth shook her head. "I can't believe she didn't tell me. I can't believe he didn't tell me! Apparently Cathy accidentally let it slip to Thomas, who came riding home from work as soon as he'd heard. I think James was probably planning some sort of elopement."
Norrington ground his teeth. It was his own fault James had kept things a secret. The boy knew of the silent hostility between the two families and had no doubt thought that yet another Beckett-Norrington wedding would be too much for his father to bear. And perhaps he was right. God alone knew how much Norrington was dreading seeing Beckett again. Once, the man had been all that kept Norrington together. But oh, how things fall apart...
"I've got to tell your mother," he said at last. "Is there anyone who can send a message for me?"
"Oh, I've already done that," Elizabeth said. "As soon as I heard I dashed off a letter and sent Alice with it. It probably hasn't got there yet, but Mother will definitely know by the time you get back home."
Norrington rubbed his face. He was getting too old to keep up with this sort of thing. "When is the wedding set for?"
"January." She took the reins from him. "You go inside and get comfortable, Papa. I'll have one of the grooms put Gunpowder in the stable, I'll just be a minute."
Norrington poured himself several fingers of brandy and made himself comfortable in an armchair. Elizabeth and Thomas had a comfortable house, full of fresh air and flowers in painted vases. It was nestled in a small valley, just a couple miles from his own home, and Norrington and his wife visited them frequently. Today, however, Catherine had elected to stay behind in order to finish certain of her shopping.
"Well, that's done," Elizabeth declared, entering the room. "Are you comfortable, Papa?"
"Yes, my dear, perfectly comfortable." Norrington smiled at his daughter. She was in many ways still the child he adored and had so often scolded. Wearing a simple white dress that nonetheless became her completely, she went barefoot indoors and tied back her hair with a scrap of ribbon. "How have you been getting on?"
"It hasn't been as awful as I thought," she admitted with a grin, smoothing the dress over her rounded stomach. "Of course, I can't run about quite as much as I used to, but that's not for too much longer."
"When are you expecting my first grandchild?" Norrington asked, sipping the brandy slowly.
"April," Elizabeth replied. "Thomas insists that it's a girl, but I think it'll be a boy. What do you think?"
"I'm happy with either," he said diplomatically. "Have you thought of any names?"
"Thomas wants Isabella if it's a girl and Joseph if it's a boy." She made a face. "Joseph Edward, of all things. I haven't given any thought as to a girl's name – I suppose Catherine would be the obvious choice – but of course I've got my heart set on James for a boy."
Norrington smiled and set the unfinished glass on the table. "How's Thomas doing?"
"Oh, he's fine. His job does keep him rather busy, but he comes home twice a week for lunch and he usually gets back before dark. That's one benefit of working for family; you get to come and go as you please. Father's not letting him shirk his duties, though. Thomas can do as he wishes as long as he finishes what needs to be done." Elizabeth frowned suddenly. "Where's Mother? I had expected to see her today. Is she all right?"
"Yes, yes, she just needed to do a bit of shopping. We can't have you around for dinner next week if we haven't got food to feed you with." Norrington held up a hand when Elizabeth looked like she was going to refill his glass. "Please, no more. I'm not as young as I once was. I can't afford to casually fall off my horse anymore."
His daughter laughed. "Papa! You're still a young man. You're not sixty yet."
"Fifty-nine is hardly a young man," Norrington said ruefully. "But if I die before I can better express it, or if I ever forget in my dotage, Elizabeth, let me tell you know that I am very proud of you. You and James both. I could not have asked for finer children."
Elizabeth looked acutely self-conscious. "But I was a terrible child."
"No, darling. When I would reproach you, it was only because I did not want you to ever be unhappy. You were willful, yes, and obstinate, but I should have recognized in your strength of will your courage." Norrington took his daughter's hand in his. "I am proud of you."
"Papa, do not say these things," she said gently. Her eyes were bright with tears. "You have many years left. I have grandchildren to give you, and one day so will James. You will grow old to the sound of children's laughter, Papa, I know it."
Norrington tried to speak, but could find no words to say. He simply nodded, and they sat there in silence, looking out onto the brilliant colours of the setting sun, until night had fallen and it was time for him to leave.