Discontent
At least one question could be settled very soon after Commodore Norrington's awaking – Captain Filister was to stay his deputy some longer, and Lieutenant Chandler was to be the second-in-command. Filister's good humour seemed to have handled every other decision, too, Chandler's feeling of duty and honour would have been uneasy with the first position anyhow, so the only one who had a reason to lament was Lieutenant Gillette, who felt exceedingly ill-used, and would complain about it whenever somebody listened.
"Stop aggravating yourself, cousin," Filister giggled, "If it had been you carrying your Captain on your back through half of the Caribbean, you were in charge now. But knowing you, you wouldn't have done so in the first place!"
"Don't talk so big, Francis! Neither would you, you bloody hypocrite!"
"I do not wonder that, with that attitude of yours, you've never been promoted, Henry. You need to shape up. The Admiral will arrive before long, and he'll have a post to bestow, you know?"
Gillette's grudge wasn't pacified so easily, and neither was Elizabeth Swann's. Dr. Jennings had complied with the others, so Commodore Norrington had been taken to the Van Dykes' house early in the next morning, and although his former nurse's outrage had been slightly softened by a very long and healthy sleep, she was still excessively angry, venting most of it on her father.
"But my dearest child," he tried to defend himself, at a total loss why she was so unsatisfied with him. "I thought I had understood that you have the Commodore's best interest at heart? So why do you wish him to suffer from your presence?"
If he had wished to hurt his daughter on purpose – but nothing could have been further from his intentions, naturally – he had chosen exactly the right words. Suffer from her presence! It was awful, simply awful! She tried to stay calm and explained through gritted teeth, "At least my presence isn't likely to worsen his well-being yet! Good Lord, Father! Can it be possible that you really don't see what all of this is supposed to lead to? Henrietta Van Dyke is out to marry the Commodore!"
Ha raised his brows in surprise. "Is that so? I didn't know that, my dear! But that's wonderful, isn't it?"
"No, it is not!"
"But she is a very worthy young lady, and your best friend – she's very pretty, and a very thoughtful girl, and clever after all I've heard –"
"Clever! That's a word! She's cunning, she's plotting, she's – damn it! He deserves more than that!"
"He deserves more than a pretty smart woman of virtue? I don't understand!"
"He deserves a woman who loves him with all her heart, Father! He deserves no less than that!"
"I see." He nodded, but Elizabeth could tell from his face that the opposite was true. She groaned – there was no use in discussing this with her father.
Elisabeth did her father very wrong with her presumptions; Governor Swann understood very well what she had said and would have agreed instantly. His confusion rooted somewhere else. He had known Miss Van Dyke for years, since her family had come to Port Royal. Her father was a merchant, living in the Caribbean for twenty-five years and settling in this town soon after the Governor's own arrival. Governor Swann had almost seen the girl grow up, had taken delight in his daughter befriending the young lady, and was very much inclined to think only the best of her. The Van Dykes were honourable people, and he had always found that their daughter had a very healthy influence over his own, sometimes very inconsiderate child. He was not ignorant of the fact that the young woman was very unlikely to fall for any man like his dear Elizabeth had fallen for her young blacksmith, but he failed to see the fault in this.
Of course the good Commodore deserved an equally good wife, who was honestly attached to him; what the Governor couldn't grasp was why Elizabeth would so strongly decline this possibility with her friend. Honest affection needn't spring from violent fancy only. Remembering his dearest Mary, he found that she, too, had certainly never fancied himself like Elizabeth fancied her Will Turner, but he had no doubt that she had truly loved him nevertheless. Perhaps it was his daughter's youth and lack in experience that made her so unjust against her friend, but he did not dare telling her that.
It had never before leaped into to his mind that Miss Van Dyke and the Commodore could be attached to each other, simply because he had meant that his own child would marry this man, who had admired her so ardently. When it had become clear that she would not, but throw herself into the arms of a boy who resembled her so much in youth and quick temper, the Commodore had already left Port Royal, and any further ideas of whom he was to marry had appeared useless. Hadn't it been for Elizabeth's angry opposition, her father would have congratulated both the gentleman and the lady at once. Heavenly, wasn't it?
Miss Van Dyke was indeed a thoughtful nurse, and would look after her patient with the same care as her predecessor, if also with less anxiety. She left him to himself most of the time, not because she didn't bother, but because of her tact; she thought that he'd appreciate to have some time on his own. Sometimes, she sat down with him to chat a little, which was very agreeable indeed, or the Lieutenant would come, and all in all, she was quite satisfied.
Elizabeth hadn't erred in her idea that Henrietta was very much inclined to accept any offer of marriage from that quarter, but she was wrong in assuming that it was mere calculation with her friend. True, Henrietta's heart wouldn't beat faster when she was in the same room with James Norrington, but she did not expect any such thing either. She was fully aware of all his merits; she esteemed him very highly, and this was all she would ask for in a man. Nevertheless, her plan to bring him to her father's house hadn't originated in any other agenda but to relief him from Elizabeth's sight. She had been honest in everything she had said, and was certain that her friend couldn't fail to realise it, too, once she had calmed her overstrained nerves.
She was disquieted with Elizabeth's conduct. The young lady would come twice a day since the removal to call on the patient, but hardly spoke more than three words to Henrietta. But what was her problem now? How could she be so annoyed with a scheme that had been crafted in order to gratify everybody's feelings?
As her best friend was so obviously cross with her, she was glad to have found a new good friend that she could talk to, namely Lieutenant Chandler. He was a sensible and open man of twenty-six years, unaffected, calm, and possessing a dry sense of humour. They spent a good deal of time together, and with great interest, she listened to his story-telling about his family, his time in the Navy, and not at last, the Commodore.
As it turned out, Robert Chandler had been the youngest of four sons to a farmer, but was entirely without wistful memories of that part of his life, which had been ruled by hard labour, bad weather, and hunger very often. He had sought his luck in joining the Navy, and he had found it, speaking with great delight of the voyages, the battles, his Captain and declaring with a grin, "I'd trade Northern England's rain and soil for the Caribbean sun and waters anytime again, Miss!"
"But isn't it terrible to be away from home, Port Royal I mean, for so long? And all the dangers –"
"Being on board is far more pleasant than staying in the fort, Miss Van Dyke, believe me! What has happened to the Dauntless has been incredibly bad luck, she would have mastered a storm, and certainly have put every enemy in flight, but such evils combined – it's very unlikely that I shall see another battle like this, and having survived it, I see to the future with nothing but confidence!"
She nodded, yet doubtful, but the more she heard from him, the more she believed him. Perhaps a sailor's life wasn't as bad as she had always imagined it, at least when one had left the lower ranks behind. According to his First Lieutenant, Commodore Norrington was a good Captain, and this bit she believed most readily.
"You mustn't make the mistake to judge him from appearance, Miss," Chandler said nevertheless, eager as always to praise his friend and Commander. "I know, he seems to be very – well, reserved – and he is, in a way. But I've never heard him upbraid one of his men unfairly, he's always been caring and just. I owe all my luck to him. You must know, it doesn't happen too often that a man like me gains such a position. But the Commodore isn't conceited; he will promote anyone who can sail well, no matter where they come from. With another Captain but him, Lieutenant Gillette would be in my place, he's a baronet's son. Even though I sometimes suspect him being afraid of water even, but I assure you, that can't be true!"
He smiled cheerfully, and received some hearty laughter in return. "I've always been suspicious of making one's living on board of a ship, Sir, but after everything you told me, I shall eat all my words!"
"You don't like sailing?"
"Not too much, no, but I've been on a voyage only once, when we left Kingston to come here when I was thirteen years old. All I can remember is that I was being horribly seasick!"
"Nah, that's nothing. Almost everybody gets seasick their first time aboard. It's getting better with time!"
"But it's not very tempting to try it a second time when one has suffered so badly before!"
"All you have to overcome is your dislike, Miss, and besides – even the Commodore states he's been immensely seasick on his first journey, but perhaps he only said so to take away my own embarrassment!"
She couldn't imagine Commodore Norrington telling anybody about his seasickness, but Lieutenant Chandler must know him better, so she cried, "Oh yes, Commodore Norrington is a very good sort of man!"
"The best," he answered earnestly, adding with more gloom, "I wish everybody would think as you do!"
"But who could ever say any other thing about such a man?"
"Oh! There are people! Admiral Thompson has sent a dispatch – he is most unsatisfied with Jack Sparrow's repeated escape, and wait until he learns about the loss of the Dauntless! You should have heard him after the Interceptor was stolen!"
"But none of this was the Commodore's mistake!"
"Apparently, that's a matter of perspective! Do you think Admiral Thompson cares about some Governor's daughter? If she's in league with a pirate – put her in jail! That's what he would have done. Same with the Governor's future son-in-law, no, him, they would have hanged straight away!"
"Please Sir, don't be harsh with them for that. Will Turner acted on Elizabeth's behalf, and she intervened for Jack Sparrow's sake because he had saved her life."
"I owe Captain Sparrow my own life, too, and my Captain's. I begrudge nobody for helping Captain Sparrow; that would be very ungrateful of me indeed."
"Yet you dislike Miss Swann –"
He bit his lips, "I don't like her as well as everybody else does, that's true. In my opinion, she has used the Commodore very ill, and I've seen him suffer from her thoughtlessness. You should have seen him, and all because of some little spoilt Miss!"
Henrietta sighed and smirked. "I cannot deny that Miss Swann is a little spoilt, very well. But she is a good person, and everybody has their faults. Should she truly have married one man when loving another?"
"Absolutely not, Miss, but she shouldn't have got engaged to him either!"
"Now, now, Lieutenant. The Commodore would have seen her marry somebody else and have suffered from it, with or without their prior engagement. I don't mean to justify her conduct, but do you really think it would have made such a difference?"
"Forgive me for appearing unfair, Miss Van Dyke. I don't mean to offend you. But I don't possess the Commodore's good-will, or the Governor's indulgence. It annoys me to see the little Miss adding up faults and flaws in abundance, and everybody excusing her still. 'She shouldn't have done this, but' and 'She shouldn't have done that, though' – everybody else is seized with the same measure, only for Miss Swann, the whole world is inclined to make one exception after the other!"
Could 'Little Miss Swann' have heard the Lieutenant talk like that! For she was still convinced that the 'whole world' had set up to conspire against her. She had met Will again after their argument; he had begged her for forgiveness, and she had happily granted it, still, she was not content. After prohibiting him from joining the Navy, their possible wedding seemed to have slipped even further away into the distant future, and she was at a loss what else could be done.
"I've got an aunt in England," she muttered pensively. "She's rich, she's got no sons or daughters – perhaps I should write to her, and ask her for a share of her heritage –"
"Good heavens, Elizabeth, you couldn't do that!"
"Why not? All my cousins are bound to receive their share, but she might have forgotten me, since we haven't seen each other for nine years…"
Will was pale, his eyes piercing hers with an imploring expression. "No, Elizabeth, no! Firstly, you must not ask any old lady to mention you in her testament – just imagine how pressuring that sounds! And secondly – I could never accept that! I will be the one to provide for my wife, and possible children! I downright refuse to live from your family's money –"
"Don't be silly, Will! Gift horses! It will take ages for you to earn enough money to please my father – like that we could be married as soon as you are twenty-one!"
"My dear Elizabeth," he murmured; his voice had adopted a desperate tone. "Have you thought that your aunt might live some more years, and most hopefully so?"
"Yes, of course. I had in mind to ask her to pay me off before her decease!"
He groaned and clutched his hands. "Elizabeth, please! I will make a fortune myself to deserve you, I will, trust me!"
"You don't need a fortune to deserve me, Will!"
"Oh, you know what I mean! I couldn't live with myself if I depended on your family's money!"
"But you could live with me then," she retorted tersely, shaking her head with his foolish objections.
"This is a matter of self-respect, Elizabeth," he insisted. "No decent man wants to rely on his bride's money to make a living!"
She was vexed with his attitude, and it wasn't the only reason for her ill humour. Henrietta was equally stubborn; she hadn't even tried to make amends. Elizabeth paid her back by ignoring her, but Henrietta seemed oblivious to this anyway. Instead, she was ingratiating herself with the Commodore's confidante Lieutenant Chandler to secure her victory. Despicable behaviour! Elizabeth was shocked with herself for not having noticed her friend's vices earlier – exploit a man's weakness to soften his heart and sneak through the back door like a thief at night! And how sly she did all of this, well concealed by a mask of alleged 'virtue' – ha! Elizabeth was the only one who saw her for what she really was, and was grimly satisfied with her newly-gained knowledge. She had talked to Will about it, but he, not knowing Miss Van Dyke, and not overly concerned for the Commodore, was at a loss to understand the problem.
"Shouldn't you be gratified if your two friends were attracted to each other?" he asked guilelessly, his big brown eyes making him look like a puppy, and she felt a sudden urge to slap him for such ignorance.
"They are not attracted to each other, how often do I have to tell you?! She only wants him because he is such a 'smart match' –" She spat the words out with contempt. "And he is too good to even understand that she's only pretending to be so nice and careful to make him marry her!"
"Well, that's what people normally do when they want somebody else to marry them, isn't it?"
She groaned with so much thickness and refrained from further explanations. She was also very unhappy that James had returned to address her 'Miss Swann', what, of course, obliged her to call him 'Commodore Norrington' again. At first, she did not complain, she simply did not dare to touch that matter. But after two or three days, she took heart at last and without looking at him, she murmured, "Please – I've thought – can't you just call me Elizabeth, like you used to?"
He didn't answer at once, and she couldn't but steal a glance at him. He was staring at his hands, clearly embarrassed, and replied very quietly, "I think your fiancé could dislike that –"
"Oh no, not at all!"
He chuckled, still averting his eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely! He – er, he's very fond of you!"
He laughed flat out. "Is he? That's nice, even though I don't understand why he should be!"
"You're his hero, you know?" She couldn't but smile as well, glad to see him lighten up a bit. "He always wanted to be like you –"
"Now that's – a little disturbing, actually! Are there two other men on this island more different than him and me?"
Dangerous waters, she knew, but bravely carried on joking, "Well, he's learnt sword fighting because he admired it so much with you, and in fact, he nearly would have joined the Navy!"
She could tell from his expression that he – just like her – had the third thing in mind that he and Will Turner had in common, but he was kind enough not to mention it and merely smirked. "Oh, I've heard of that! Lieutenant Chandler told me that he changed his mind the next day?"
"I forbade him to do it," she grumbled and blushed.
"Why's that?"
"Too dangerous!"
He laughed again and nodded. "Can't argue with that, can I?"
As much as she enjoyed the memory of this chat, as sad she was that it remained without effect. He would refrain to call her Elizabeth nevertheless, and she never dared again to press him.
Another source of malcontent was the Captain, in whom she had set so many hopes. For a start, he did not exert himself in tryingto court Miss Van Dyke's favour and disperse at least some of her time, that she unquestionably used to bewitch the Commodore instead. And then, she had heard about the Admiral's anger with the poor Commodore – Elizabeth would have expected the Captain to put in a good word for him! Her own part in this story was troubling her exceedingly and gave her some sleepless hours at night. But she couldn't think of anything that she could do now, except for once again praying to the Lord.
At least one man had reason to rejoice with the recent developments, and this was Lieutenant Gillette. He found it only right that the Commodore for once wasn't treated like a saint, for the entire town of Port Royal regarded him like that. No, the Admiral would set things right, and perhaps, only perhaps, Gillette soon wouldn't have to endure a man like Chandler any longer.