Late morning set in on the Caribbean as James sat in his office, as per usual. Beside him and his papers sat three juicy plums, waiting to be eaten. He eyed them momentarily before turning back to turning back to what had been vexing him all morning. He had intended to write a letter of thanks to Sophia regarding their impromptu dinner. The evening had put him in a fine mood and he had walked into his home that with a bounce in his step. Katherine had noticed and she took relief in the fact that maybe the Commodore's intense phase of depression was starting to release it's hold. He tapped his quill on the paper impatiently and after several crumpled sheets, he finally felt he had worded everything right. He sighed nervously and read over his work, this was only a simple thank you note.
"Dear Miss Howard,
I would like to thank you very much for the invitation to dinner last Thursday. If you would be so kind as to extend my gratitude to the rest of your family, I would greatly appreciate it. Please also give my compliments to your mother in her choice of menu, roasted lamb is one of my favorite dishes. I sincerely hope that you are fully enjoying the your gift. The moment I saw it, I thought of you. As you may know, Governor Swann and your father are currently in talks regarding the safety protocol of Port Royal." He paused, wondering if he should start over and add anything about preventing another incident like they had had with Sparrow, but thought better of it. "This means you may be seeing more of my presence in your household, though I trust you will not mind very much." He stopped again, wondering if he was being too bold with his words, but again decided not to change it. "Perhaps, if there is any free time after speaking with your father, you would like to help me regarding my own garden. I am afraid I have neglected overseeing that particular part of my residence due to my duties as Commodore, but I would truly enjoy having a garden to come home to when I am not on patrols. If you would not mind giving me your input, your knowledge would be infinitely helpful.
Signed,
Commodore James Norrington
of the King's Royal Navy"
He sat before the letter several minutes, concentrating on the smooth curves of the ink, when there was a sharp knock at the door.
"Enter." James hurriedly covered his letter with reports as Gillette entered his office.
"I have good news, Commodore." he began, taking a seat casually on the edge of James' desk. "Merchant ships have spotted a ship thought to be the Black Pearl just outside of English waters. If they so much as cast a shadow in English territory, we will have our chance to finally rid ourselves of Sparrow and that despicable Turner." He paused and examined James' expression. Two weeks ago he would have sprung into action at the slightest chance to catch the men who ruined his life, now he seemed oddly unmoved. "You're not still broken up about that Swann girl, are you?" He was never fond of Elizabeth, but after what happened he now truly disliked her.
"No," It was a bit of a lie. She still consumed a good portion of his thoughts and how could she not? She had been his best friend, aside from Gillette, his fiancée, and almost his wife. In a strange way, he wished she was dead. If only so he could place blame on death rather than his failure. It was selfish of him, but it would have been easier than admitting that all his hard work was lost on a blacksmith. An apprentice blacksmith. "I do not want to risk alarming all of Port Royal on the basis of some rumors. I believe it is the best course of action to send additional officers to keep an eye out on the waters, just in case."
Gillette was at a loss for words. James had always been a practical man, but recently he'd become very rash in regards to capturing that particular pirate. Now he seemed almost normal again. Perhaps he was feeling better. He eyed the desk with suspicion. It was messy, Norrington's desk was never messy. In his rush, James had not covered his letter completely. With lightning speed, the letter was in Gillette's possession and across the room, reports floated to the ground in a flurry. "What is this, hmm?"
Upon realizing what had happened, James' lips formed a thin line and eyes took on the steady, unreadable gleam that appeared in uncomfortable situations. "It is nothing, Gillette. Give it here." he warned, there was an edge in his voice.
"Oh, Jamie." Gillette teased, "It's just a letter! I do not see why you are so intent on hiding it from me of all people. I am your best friend, after all." James rolled his eyes, but said nothing. "Miss Howard? Who is sh-..The brunette?" His mouth curled wolfishly in memory, "I do not recall you ever speaking to her." He peered at James over the letter. "She was a comely one, indeed."
"It is not Abigail Howard the letter is addressed to, Andrew." He said flatly. His face was flushing with displeasure and a slight embarrassment. He had hoped to remain mum on the subject of women. Gillette was too much of a womanizer to understand any type of devotion.
"Not addressed to Abigail Howard..then..Oh. I see. The blonde one...Sarah..Sadie.." He tried to remember the night he met the other Howard sister. She was decidedly not as interesting as Abigail, though pretty.. they hadn't talked long. All the wine had blurred his perception of that night...
"Sophia." James interrupted his reverie quite sharply, "Sophia Howard is her name." His voice softened.
"Ah, yes. Sophia." He raised an eyebrow, he also did not recall James talking to any women that night. He shrugged to himself, perhaps they met somewhere else. He read on, his eyes scanning the letter quickly. He did not know how long James would continue to let him read. James did not move, having given up on retrieving the letter, though secretly he wanted to know if it sounded trite. Gillette would surely tell him so. "Garden?" the lieutenant said incredulously.
"What? I thought it was not too odd a request. She is good with such things..and I should like something to come home to...It..It would help me relax." He reasoned, he realized what he had said had come out wrong. He hoped Gillette would not pounce on it, but his hopes were dashed.
"I'm sure you would like something to come home to. And it does help one relax..." There was a sly tone to his voice that James was not sure he liked. Gillette chuckled to himself and continued, "Oh James, there are better ways than this to show you're interested in a woman."
"Who said anything about being interested in her?" He snapped. The answer came quickly, too quickly to sound truthful. Perfect. Now he sounded like an embarrassed fourteen year old boy.
"There is nothing wrong with taking interest in other women. The Swanngirl was never right for you, if you ask me. I met this girl, she seems more compatible with you."
James bristled. "I did not ask you. And I never said anything about being interested. You are dismissed, Lieutenant. I'm sure you have duties to attend to."
Gillette hated it when James used his rank as a tool to be rid of him. He had no option but to comply. He almost rolled his eyes, but thought better of it. James was obviously irritated now. Still, he could not resist one final quip as he left the office, "If you were not interested, you would not be writing letters inviting a woman to help you in your garden, James. You are a man of the sea, you have no use for gardens. You know that." With that, he left before James' temper could flare any more.
James sat there. What Gillette has said was true enough. This whole thing made him uneasy, he was not showing interest in her..he simply wanted help planning his garden. Katherine was getting after him about it. Sophia could provide that help. That was all. He had a pained expression. He could not even convince himself...and there was still that unending tug at his heart..Elizabeth. How could he do this to her? His first true love...Elizabeth...and Turner. His face turned dark. How could she? After years of friendship... He could not lie to himself. He was still haunted by his past. Given, the thought of Sophia did allow him some meager pleasure...but it vexed him that he could not let go of the idea of Elizabeth. In each thought of her, love, despair and hatred mingled together and formed a great lead ball that stuck in his throat and pained him to breathe. He looked again at the letter, his eyes softened sadly. There was no denying he had a soft spot for Sophia and a growing desire to make her happy, to hear that laugh once again. It made him happy and that was something he had found so elusive in the past months. He folded the letter carefully and sealed it with wax, pressing his insignia into it. The letter was placed in a safe spot beside the plums. The plums. He regarded them hungrily. He sighed loudly and plucked a plum from it's resting spot. For now James would try only to think of the sweetness of the flesh on his tongue and thankfully he found it a small respite from his conflicted mind.
