Such Great Heights Chapter 7

Alrighty, sorry for the long wait. I didn't realise that I would have so much homework after I finished the program in the city, which meant that I was not able to update this as quickly as I would have liked to. And then when I was finally just about to finish and publish, an earthquake just happened to hit and I had to deal with hysterical little sisters. But finally I am here and I bring an update! Once again I would like to thank you lovely people who leave a review as they just brighten my day! Now back to the chapter, we get to see things from the eyes of James and also a rather awkward fight between him and his absolute dragon of a mother! So let's get to the chapter and it would be really nice if you left a review for me!

James Norrington was very tired, completely exhausted from the night before, as his mother had seen fit to throw a tantrum once they had returned from the Governor's mansion. Speaking of the governor, the night that he hosted was beyond terrible. As always his mother had to make comments that no-one wanted to listen to and then she began insulting the company which soon spiralled out of control. It had been a while since James had attended a formal dinner outside of his own property with his mother, the last time he did was right before he left England, and she managed to make that one a living hell by embarrassing him and saying he was not ready to go out to sea by himself.

But that did not even compare to what she said the night before. It had been downright embarrassing, having her snipe and make comments that should never be said in company about his future wife. Even worse ones came when Edith had left the mansion and James had pulled his mother from his room.

"James! You are making a scene! Just like that woman who claims to be a proper English woman! She deserved everything she got! If she is not willing to abide by societies rules and not be able to accept the consequences for what she has done, she may as well leave and head back to England. A woman like her is not proper for a fine man like you James! She does things that aren't lady-like!" Idorea Norrington argued as her son pulled her into one of the many empty rooms that sat in the governor's residence.

"I do not care. What you have said about Miss Reynolds is enough for one night. What you say not just only makes people think less of you; it makes people think less of me, which is something I will not stand for. I have heard enough stories about you from the townspeople and from officers around the fo-"cutting himself off and taking a deep breath, James stood tall and then looked at his mother harshly "we will continue this later." He breathed before turning from the room and leaving his mother in the dark.

Closing the door and moving back into the dining room, where they still sat hours after the meal finished. Pushing through the open doors, James took his original seat, next to where Edith sat and waited for something to eventuate. He noted that everyone still remaining in the room stared at him curiously, wanting to know whether his mother had left in the same fashion as his fiancée had. Just as Elizabeth was about to open her mouth to make some sort of comment, his mother opened the doors in what James thought was one of the most dramatic ways possible.

"Governor," she said "I apologise for the behaviour of Miss Reynolds, I understand that it was totally inappropriate and she will be over to make amends with you and your daughter. It was a lovely evening apart from the last half hour."

Looking flustered and not like he believed the woman at all, the governor stuttered. "Of course it was very lovely. Please give Miss Reynolds my regards. Commodore, I trust I'll see you in the morning? Those reports for the king need to be finalised."

Nodding wearily, James stepped into the carriage, which had just arrived back on the Governors drive and waited for them to depart.

~Quasso~

Back at his house, James stepped out of the carriage and into his house. He turned on his heel when his mother decided that just setting foot over the threshold before deciding that it was time for her to properly scold him.

"James, just what were you thinking? Pulling me out of the room like a little child who has stolen something! I am your mother! I think that I deserve more respect than I am getting! You would not have a bride if it wasn't for me! I am organising a wedding in the stead of her parents, and she is being difficult, having to have her own ideas and completely ruining mine!" she yelled and James winced internally as he thought of those listening to this.

"Maybe she is entitled to these opinions. From what I have heard, a wedding is a very important and special thing for women, why won't you let her have some things her way." He reasoned carefully, not really wanting to start yelling at a woman, even if it was his mother.

"But I think that it should not be. She has come with a simple task that she must complete, which is marrying you and then producing children so that we can continue the family line! That is all she is here for! Nothing more! Your failure of a brother has once again let down the family and whether you like it or not, the task has fallen into your hands."

"You have no right to speak to her like that though mother! She has had to sail across the world with her fiancés parents, who could not really care about what happened to her, just so that they could continue the family line. She knows nothing on me and is being forced to enter a marriage that she is quite obviously not willing to enter! I hope that you apologise to her tomorrow when she comes back here!" James said watching her carefully as she flopped herself onto the chaise lounge, watching him scathingly.

"Get out." James could not believe what he was being told. He was being asked to leave his own house.

But then as he began to form his rebuttal in his head, James was hit with a wave of exhaustion and it seemed that this battle could be left for another day. Not even bothering to say anything to his mother, he spun on his heel causing a sharp squeak to sound through the foyer; James turned and opened the door, slamming it behind him as his anger seemed to rise again. Hopping down the steps, he walked along the stone path that twisted around the side of the manse.

The night air was cool against his face and lights from some of the rooms in the house lit the path so that James had light to go by so that he would not end up in a garden bed somehow. His eyes then focused on the candle flames that lid the years which did not come from the house, but much rather the stables that sat in the back corner of his property.

Moving closer to the door, he nodded to the stable hand who was settling the horses that pulled the carriage back into their respective stalls, giving him his space. James moved towards the end of the stables were Darby, his Irish stallion stood watching him curiously. Rubbing his nose affectionately, James opened the stall door and gave the horse a thorough pet, much to the horses delight. Deciding that it was time to begin saddling the large horse, James gathered a saddle blanket, throwing it over Darby and then pulling the saddle around the horse's middle. Pulling the rein around the horse so that they sat comfortably and did not cause any discomfort, James mounted and pulled the horse out of the stables.

Pulling Darby into a canter, James moved down the hill on which his and many of the other richer inhabitants lived and headed towards the fort. He wanted to delay the fact that he would be sleeping in the small cot in a adjourning room of his office, he often slept there after he had become Commodore as the demanding schedule and amount of work often caught up with him. Knowing exactly where to go, James pulled Darby off the main road and onto a lesser known path that was only lit by the bright moonlight.

This particular beach, during the right time could often be considered one of the most peaceful places to be in Port Royal, far from the bustling town or ever-busy fort. The shore lapped at the sand, leaving a trail of foam that had formed as the waves had spent those precious few seconds reaching as far as they could on the white sand. The sand was an eerie white colour, made by the moonlight that cut through the clouds, including the silver black colours that came from the plant life; it was a picture of total serenity.

Guiding Darby onto the sand James pushed him forward, making him go from the trot into a brisk canter that made the wind whip his face sharply. Once Darby ran the length of the beach James pulled him back and guided him into the shallow water, making little droplets of water separate from the sea.

James knew that he could not go back to his house for the night. He was a brave man, leading ships into battles where one crucial mistake could decide the fate of him and his crew or duelling pirates in the strangest of circumstances, but he knew that this time it was best for him to retreat and leave his mother to cool down overnight. Looking at the position of the moon in the sky, James nudged Darby in the sides and pulled him back onto the road from which they came. Before they stepped up onto the main road weaving through Port Royal, James stopped and looked at Port Royal from the vantage view that they had. The town was quiet, apart from the docks where people worked under the lamp lights, preparing to sail with the morning tide. Nodding to himself, James turned Darby so that they were heading up towards the fort. Once the marines opened the gates of the fort, James dismounted and led the horse up to the stables that the fort provided for their own horses, along with those who lived away in their own homes and rode to the naval base. Hanging the saddle on the stall door, James moved through the darkened corridors of the fort.

The only noise that could be heard inside the labyrinth of corridors that was the fort was the periodic tapping of the heels of his shoe. Opening the large doors to his office, James lit a few candles with a flame of a solitary one that had been left burning and examined the papers that he left on his desk. Hanging up his hat and coat on the stand that was near the door, James took a seat behind the large desk and picked up his quill. Before getting to work James decided that the wig was not really necessary as he could not imagine someone coming into his office in the middle of such a calm night.

Several documents later, James rubbed his brow and decided it was time to retire for the night. Moving from behind the desk wearily, his back cracking slightly as he shifted himself from the suddenly uncomfortable wooden chair, James shuffled to the door which was just to the right of his desk that was wonderfully hidden from visitors by a strategically placed bookcase. He moved into the room, noting that he would have to go find water from the kitchens in the morning so he could shave. Stripping down to merely a shirt and breeches, James hopped into the small bed and hoped that the next day could be a much better improvement from the one that he just suffered through.

~Quasso~

Rising from the cot, James rubbed his neck and moaned deeply, the lumpy pillow not doing any favours for his spine, which had also twisted uncomfortably so that his feet would not hang over the edge. moving to the small vanity that was on the other side of the room, James inspected his face, brushing his fingers over the fine stubble that had accumulated over night and sighed, brushing the sleep from his eyes.

Going to grab the razor that sat on the vanity, James realised that he had no water and that would make the shaving far too difficult. Putting on the clothes he wore the previous day, not without cringing though, he placed his wig haphazardly on his head before leaving the safety of his office and into the crowded halls that were brimming with people. Nodding to those who stopped to salute him, James moved down to the kitchens in search of that prized water, maybe along with a cup of tea.

Stepping into the kitchens, James was suddenly hit with a rush of heat that came from all of the ovens that occupied the majority of the kitchen. He approached one of the kitchen hands and got the bowl of water that he wanted, along with a cup of tea that was to be sent to his office in a half an hour.

Moving back through the corridors, that seemed even more congested than before. Placing the bowl on the vanity, James finally got around to shaving and was nearly done before being interrupted by someone opening and then closing his office door.

With sharp words on the edge of his tongue, ready to reprimand whoever had entered his office without his consent, James moved through the door, closing it firmly behind him.

"Wha- oh, Andrew, really. Can you not knock and wait?" James said as he stared down his subordinate and friend.

"Well I was told by chef down at the kitchens to bring you a cup of tea as well as this plate of delicious fruits that look very nice James." He said with a mischievous grin.

"Please do find something to keep yourself occupied Andrew, I have to finish up these reports." James sighed as he sat behind his desk and had a long sip of the tea, enjoying the flavoursome brew that the cooks had brewed.

"Well I'm sure that talking about the elusive Miss Reynolds is something that would keep me occupied. Didn't you see her last night, at the governor's residence?"

"Yes hmm… it was rather uneventful. Oh, if you do not already know, there is to be an engagement ball" when James said engagement he made sure he said it with utter distastefulness. "If you have not been invited by my mother I invite you as I need at least someone on my side. Can you also make sure that Theo and Charlotte invited as well as I would hate for them not to come. Speaking of Theo, have you seen him lately I haven't seen him since I told him about Miss Reynolds" He paused for a second and then turned back to the papers on his desk.

"I haven't either; it is rather unusual that he has not come into the fort without leaving word. But a few days ago I sent Charlotte a letter asking about him and it seems that he has come down with a rather bad case of the flu. I was quite offended when I did not receive an invitation and I have been meaning to ask you about that James, did you forget to remind your mother that we were to come?" Andrew asked with a cheeky smile as he sat on one of the chairs that was placed at the front of James' desk.

"I was not going to get involved in that sort of business Andrew; you know that I would never get involved. That sort of work is better left up to the women who spend a great deal of time on it." James said wearily, as he leaned back in his chair and went back to his work.

~Quasso~

After a tedious morning that involved getting up earlier than usual to fetch a bowl of lukewarm water from the kitchens to help with his usual morning routine and then having to deal with his father who seemed to have lost even more spine since James had left home. James stood at his own front door staring at the paintwork which he noticed was beginning to slightly fade, rather reluctant to enter.

Sighing deeply, James pulled the door open and stepped into the foyer, nodding to several women who worked at the tailors who were packing their tools away. Looking around the foyer and peering into the dining room, James tried to locate his mother who would most likely be organising some of the final and most miniscule of details for the engagement ball. Pulling off his sword belt, James would head up into the library or one of the many rooms that were dedicated to either the ball or the wedding.

But luck would be on his side as he managed to stop his valet, Branson who was looking rather annoyed and asked whether he would be able to tell his mother that he was home. Once he had disappeared through the drawing room doors, James deduced that she was in there, most like with Miss Reynolds.

Branson then returned looking even more annoyed than before, told him that his mother and Miss Reynolds were both waiting for him in the drawing room. He put on a passive face, preparing for any of the insults that she could send his way and pulled the overly ornate handles down and entered the room.

"What are you doing here?" Idorea screeched as he calmly removed his hat and placed it on a side table.

"I believe I live here." James said sharply as he stared his mother down. She didn't break his gaze as she rose from her chair and moved out of the room, slamming the door noisily behind her.

It left him and Miss Reynolds both staring at each other awkwardly as they tried to process the situation that they had been put in and what was to be done next. She then broke his gaze and turned to the window. Examining her slightly, he could see that there were dark purple shadows that hung under her eyes and felt immediately guilty. Even though he had done nothing directly, he felt that he had some sort of responsibility for what his mother had done.

Before he could stop himself, he cleared his throat and spoke gently while he too looked out of the window.

"Would you mind joining me for a turn in the gardens outside?"

He watched as she jumped slightly from her seat and twisted herself around to face him, placing on a cool mask of indifference. He was ready to be knocked back and head back to the fort, but she surpised him by speaking softly. "Of course, just allow me to gather my hat and gloves, sir."

He nodded and she left the room, calling for a woman named Emma, who was obviously her maid and opened the French doors that led into the neat gardens that surrounded his property. Standing just in the doorway that separated the outside from the inside, James looked towards the docks watching as a ship moved out of the mouth of the bay. He did not notice the drawing room door open as Miss Reynolds moved from the doorway to stand beside him.

"Are you ready, Commodore?" she asked as she looked up at him, peering at him with inquisitive hazel eyes.

Realising that he had been staring for far too long, James blinked and offered his arm. "Yes, pardon me."

She placed her hand on his forearm and he led her through the doors, stepping carefully down the stairs that expanded out into a stone path. James looked towards the garden and smiled to himself. He had never really been a green thumb, preferring to work on the seas than on the earth, and so it had led him to employing a gardener to keep his gardens beautiful and matching the others in the street. he realised that his old gardener, Mr Timms, was of the age to retire. His service had been honourable and one that James had greatly enjoyed, he also noted that the garden would most likely die off and loose the charm that it had. But as he guided Miss Reynolds around the gardens, stopping every so often so that she could admire some of the plants, a snippet of conversation from the previous night appeared in his thoughts.

"… Along with doing a bit of gardening around the manse back in England."

He could give her the oppurtuinity to look after his garden while he was at the fort once they were married. He could let her tend after the plants in a beautiful way, which only a woman could. Along with that it would give Miss Reynolds something to do while he spent his time at the fort that was different from the usual pursuits women undertook while the men were at work.

"I understand that you enjoy gardening?" he asked as she stepped to gather a rose in her hand and smile as she inspected the petals.

Dropping the rose, she stood hastily as a faint blush appeared over her cheeks as she pushed strands of hair that had fallen across her face. "oh, yes I do Commodore."

"Well…" James stopped and cleared his throat, unable to voice his thoughts in a proper way. "As you understand in a short amount of time you will be moving from the inn where you are currently staying and onto the grounds here…" he stopped, forming the words in his mind so that they hopefully came across clear and were not offensive. "My gardener, who has looked after the garden around the manse, has done an admirable job. But in his old age, his bones are just not the same and it seems that I will need someone to maintain the gardens. After hearing that you enjoyed gardening last evening, so I thought that once you finish unpacking your belongings and settle in here, you are more than welcome to do anything in the garden." He said as he stopped at a seat that was situated on a hill that looked over the top of his house and down to the docks.

"So you expect me to garden once I move here so I can please that dragon that is your mother?" Miss Reynolds asked bluntly as she placed herself on the seat.

Flustered, Norrington hastily tried to amend what she had said "No, not at all. I was hoping that you would be able to do something apart from spend all of your time indoors, Port Royal usually has fantastic weather."

"Oh…" was all that Miss Edith said as she stared out at the bay.

"And I feel that I must apologise for what my mother said during the dinner last night. It was very much inappropriate of her and I once again apologise if she made you feel unwelcome in any sort of way." He took a deep breath before continuing, watching every emotion that crossed her pale face as she continued to stare out at the horizon. "The Governor and Miss Swann seemed to have taken a liking for you. I'm sure that you once get involved in society you will find more friends in the ladies of Port Royal."

Miss Reynolds just nodded and continued looking out to the sea, biting her lip, effectively ending the conversation between them.

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