AN: Lately I've been watching Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. Nothing like re-watching the movies to inspire you!

Disclaimer: I do not own POTC or its characters. Only doing this for fun.

Morgan: Thank you, I'm glad to hear that!

Stormy-mist: Thanks as well, I'm glad to hear great feedback on this story.

And thanks to everyone else for their kind reviews as well. I'll try to be more consistent with the updates :)

Chapter 11

Secrets

"It sounds as if you were caught off guard, that's all…" Adele said to Cassandra the next day, after Cassandra had recounted the night's events. She had told her all about Beckett's advances in the garden to James' reaction. She had left out her plan and her reason for pursuing Beckett in the garden.

She had said, "I wanted to speak with him and make a good impression."

"Be careful though," Adele continued. "Men can be persuasive and forceful—and Lord Cutler Beckett is no different. You know that he's a powerful man, Cassandra. With the snap of his fingers, anything can be done. After all, he is the King's representative"- Cassandra's stomach fell at this. "Will you be seeing him again?"

Cassandra let out a deep, shaky breath. "He wants to see me again..." she answered. "He wanted me to visit him sometime—alone." She stared at Adele with fearful eyes.

"Then he thinks you are interested as well…." Adele surmised.

"I don't know how to act or what to do, Adele," she admitted anxiously. "Lord Cutler Beckett is very influential and clever. He has you in a trap before you even know it! How do I control the situation?"

"Well, first, tell James to come with you," Adele instructed firmly, holding her gaze steadily." A man wouldn't dare compromise a woman in front of her chaperone—if he does, he's a cad—and you won't feel as nervous and vulnerable. Second, if you're ever in that situation again, distract him like he distracted you. Play his game. Tell him he's moving too fast or being too bold. Take your control back. You're a lady and deserve to be treated as such."

"Well, I don't think Beckett seems to think that way…" Cassandra protested, raising her eyebrows. "I walked in there and pursued him; I flirted with him"- she stopped and sighed desperately. "Even James thinks I'm a disgraceful woman!"

"Oh, the Admiral is just looking out for you, that's all," Adele assured her, waving a hand. "And he's all about propriety anyway."

"Yes, he is…" Cassandra said wearily. She turned to face Adele. "How did you become so clever about men and relationships, Adele?" she asked.

Adele smiled and looked down sheepishly. "Well, I've fancied a few lads in my time..." she explained, with a little shrug. "Some have called on me here to talk to me and tease me but I never let it get far...As you know, a servant can't get married... but I do know of others who have been in the household, who have had relationships and children out of wedlock…Mrs. Baker and the Admiral found out about these instances, and had to let these women go. I know better than to do anything other than speaking and flirting with these lads…or else I'll be in trouble and unable to send money home. And I've learned that some men are trouble, especially men that come in here from the higher classes…"

"So you work to help your family out," Cassandra said. "Where is home for you?"

"Here in Port Royal…" Adele answered with a smile. "The Admiral- bless him- gives me a day or two off, here and there, to visit my family."

"That's nice…" Cassandra commented, feeling her heart warm.

Adele nodded. "It is."

They parted ways, with Adele going into the rooms on the first floor to clean and Cassandra heading down to the dining room to eat. Living the life of a well-off woman was still peculiar and strange to her. As she crossed the hall, Edward approached her with a card.

"Madam," he said. "This came for you this morning. It's a visiting card."

He held out the card and Cassandra looked down at it, accepting it.

"Oh…" she murmured, flipping it over to see the back. It was sealed with wax, bearing the emblem of the East India Trading Company. She swallowed hard and looked up at Edward. "Thank you, Edward."

He averted his gaze, nodding silently. Then he left her. She held the visiting card from Lord Cutler Beckett, watching Edward go. Hurrying toward the dining room, she tucked the visiting card closer to her side.

As she waited for her breakfast, Cassandra opened the card on her lap. For once in her life, she wished she could read. But she perceived the general message of the visiting card: a servant of Beckett's had likely dropped by and left the visiting card, inviting her to his house for lunch or some other social occasion.

I'm at a loss, I don't know what to do, she thought as she sat in the dining room. I'm not sure how to respond and I don't want to show anyone this...least of all James! It'd be scandalous! Mhm...what should I do?

She considered asking Mrs. Baker or Adele what the proper etiquette was for responding to visiting cards. But she wouldn't show them the contents of it.

A servant came into the room and Cassandra started, closing the visiting card and shoving it back into its envelope with fumbling hands. She looked up and forced a smile at the servant, who raised her eyebrows.

"Miss Lockheart," the servant greeted, placing bread, milk and fruits before her.

"Miss Smith," Cassandra returned. "Thank you very much."

"You're very welcome," Miss Smith replied warmly. She left and Cassandra was left alone to her thoughts.

As she sipped on her milk, she looked out the windows. The curtains were drawn open, revealing the bright, sunny day outside. Birds chirped harmoniously and dogs barked in the distance.

The only part that was missing from this moment was James. She vaguely wondered if the life of an Admiral's wife was like this. Lonely. Quiet. Boring.

I'm glad I'm not his wife, she thought with relief. The memory of last night's events replayed in her mind. Guilt, regret and shame had hung over her like a dark cloud as soon as she had woken up. The realization that she had been manipulated by Beckett like a toy made her feel unclean and wicked. She regretted her impulsive decision. And she felt even worse for disappointing James. But this very revelation angered her as well.

She was feeling bad over what a man-who didn't even love her- thought about her!

Cassandra had come to the point where she didn't want his help. As she ate her breakfast, she began to formulate a plan in her mind.

After breakfast, she went to the kitchen, where to her relief, she found Mrs. Baker.

"Mrs. Baker, may I speak with you?" she asked, causing the scullery maids and chef to look her way. Mrs. Baker hesitated and then sighed.

"All right, Cassandra," she relented.

"I understand you must be very busy," Cassandra said to her as they walked out of the kitchen. "But I need to ask you a question."

"About what, my dear?"

"Well…" Cassandra began, biting her lip. "Last night- at the dinner party- I met a young woman my age. She was very lovely and kind...and she invited me to her house for tea sometime...So I was very surprised when a visiting card came for me this morning! The thing is though…" she trailed off. "I don't know how to respond to her card…"

"Oh, let me show you, my dear. That's easy," Mrs. Baker said, placing a hand on her arm. "Come with me…"

She led her out to the hallway and stopped at the table by the door. A silver tray sat on top of it and beside it, a stack of visiting cards. Mrs. Baker pulled one out from the stack and turned to Cassandra.

"These are James' visiting cards," she explained. "We normally keep a stack here if we need them. He's so busy he usually gets one of us to respond for him when someone calls. They're used quite often around here...We can have visiting cards made for you soon but for now, we'll just use the Admiral's."

She handed Cassandra the card. It bore the Admiral's name and title. Mrs. Baker was about to leave when Cassandra called out to her, "Mrs. Baker, would you be able to help me write back to her?"

Mrs. Baker looked startled. "Oh, my! I'm sorry, child. I forgot that you can't write!"

Cassandra laughed, embarrassed.

"I will," she promised. "But I can't right now- I'm sorry. I just have so much to get done. Can I help you at about noon?"

"Yes, certainly," Cassandra answered. "That would be perfect, Mrs. Baker."

Mrs. Baker left her and Cassandra was alone once again. She made her way into the sitting room and one of the servants brought her a cup of tea with a tray of biscuits.

As Cassandra sat in the sitting room with her cup of tea, she realized with horror that she didn't have another dress to wear, besides the gown she had worn last night. If she was going to see Beckett again, she couldn't be caught in the same dress…

She put the tea aside and jumped to her feet, finding Jamieson to send him off to Wilhelmina Birch's shop.

"Can you tell her it is urgent?" Cassandra asked him, as he stood at the doorway, ready to go.

Jamieson nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, madam, of course," he said. "I'll be back as soon as I can!"

Cassandra smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Jamieson. I appreciate it."

To Cassandra's great surprise, Wilhelmina arrived just before noon. She met Cassandra in the sitting room where they had previously met.

"Good afternoon, Miss Lockheart," she greeted coolly. She was pleasant enough but her eyes behind her spectacles and her mouth expressed that she was unhappy at being called on such short notice.

"Good afternoon, Miss Birch," Cassandra replied. She closed the doors of the sitting room and gestured to the couch. "Please, have a seat. Thank you for coming so quickly on such short notice."

"Yes, well, I decided to close the shop just before supper to come see you," the seamstress explained. "But I cannot be gone long, Lady Norrington. People from all over the world come to Port Royal and I am a very busy woman."

Cassandra sat down and folded her hands in her lap. "I understand, Miss Birch," she said. "And thank you again...I was very foolish"- she admitted, giving a short, nervous laugh. "I realized that I didn't have anything to wear for tea with a friend. You see…before arriving in Port Royal, my trunk had fallen off the carriage and all my dresses were ruined by the mud!"

I'm becoming quite the liar... Cassandra thought to herself.

Wilhelmina gasped at this, eyes wide.

"Oh my, how terrible!"

"Yes...you see, that's why my uncle was so generous in calling on you to make a gown for me...I have lost all of my dresses...unfortunately. And I only have the one dress I arrived here in...and the gown you so kindly made, of course."

"Well, Lady Lockheart," Wilhelmina began. "I'm very sorry to hear that. I hadn't realized that you had went through such an ordeal…Here, tell me what it is you want. I already have your measurements, so half my work is done."

Cassandra consulted with her, deciding on a simple green gown with gold brocade and lace. She paid the seamstress and placed her order, satisfied that everything was going to plan. To her dismay though, Wilhelmina told her the dress would take about a week to make.

That would delay her meeting with Beckett.

"I am in a bit of a hurry, Miss Birch," she admitted.

"Oh? Are you?" she said. After a moment she added, "If you would like to come to the shop instead, there are many ready-made dresses there. I cannot make a dress in a day! You would only have to try it on and I would make alterations. It would only take a few hours to do...perhaps even less than that."

She cursed herself. Why hadn't she thought of that before?

"I'm sorry, Miss Birch, for calling you over here like this," she apologized, cheeks colouring. "I was hasty and wasn't thinking. That would be better, thank you so much. Uncle James will be so happy to hear that you were so helpful."

Wilhelmina smiled and handed her the money back.

Later that afternoon, Cassandra sent her response to Beckett, with Mrs. Baker's help. Then she visited the dress shop.

Stepping into the dress shop was like stepping into another world. All around her were counters, fabrics and windows. Seamstresses were either quickly sewing behind the counters or shop assistants were showing customers the fabrics against the light or designers were drawing up sketches or displaying fashion sketches. Behind the counters, were drawers upon drawers upon drawers, where shop assistants pulled out beads, lace, buttons, braiding, ribbons and beads. The room was abuzz with women's excited and energetic voices.

Wilhelmina noticed her from across the room and walked over to her.

"Lady Lockheart, so glad to see you again. Let me show you the collection of ready-made dresses."

Her initial annoyance with her seemed to have dissipated. But then again- she was still getting Cassandra's business.

She led her over to the mannequins modelling the many selection of dresses.

"You said you wanted green, correct?"

Cassandra nodded, dazed by the noise and colours and detail.

To her luck, the first gown she tried on- a gown of soft green, a pastel green, with a gold leaf pattern- fit almost perfectly. The seamstress took her measurements and marked the alternations with pins, and she was done within half an hour. Cassandra also bought a matching green hat with gold ribbon, on Wilhelmina's suggestion.

A flurry of excitement rose in her stomach at the purchase. Never had she had possession of something so lovely and grand. And the world was now in her hands. Everything was going to plan. Her meeting with Beckett was confirmed. After having shown it to Adele earlier that day, she had found out that the invitation requested her at his house tomorrow morning for tea. It was also the sense of doing something secret that excited her. A strange sense of rebellion was brewing inside of her.

That afternoon she returned to the house, finding that another letter had come from her mother. She knew the letter's contents were too personal and revealing to share with anyone, so Cassandra just tucked it away, promising herself that she'd ask Mrs. Baker to help her write a letter back. Like Cassandra, her mother couldn't read or write, but Heather could. Heather's late husband had been a sailor and had a basic knowledge of the English language. He had taught Heather some writing and reading, which had come in handy for her as a single mother.

When it was time for dinner, Cassandra stayed in her room, readying herself for tomorrow's tea with Beckett. She sent her regrets down to James, who would surely be dining alone tonight. She knew she'd have a rumbling tummy tonight but she just wanted to avoid him. If he asked too many questions, she'd reveal her own plan. She wondered if she had always been this devious or if she had become devious in desperate times like this. She was promptly reminded of a distant memory in which her mother had baked cakes at their home in Port York and she had sneaked a few bites before dinner...

"Who ate cake before dinner?" her mother had asked, stern.

"Robert did!" she would cry, shamelessly putting the blame on her older brother, who was known for his voracious appetite.

Meanwhile, James sat at the head of the table downstairs, left to his own company and thoughts. He drank his sweet tea, soothed by its calming warmth. One of the scullery maids, Meredith, had come in to let him know that Cassandra had fallen ill and sent her regrets. He guessed that she was avoiding him.

Ever since last night's dinner, she had been secretive and defensive. She was hiding something.

He sighed, cutting away at the fish on his plate.

This would have been a perfect evening to invite Evelyn over, he thought with regret. Evelyn was pleasant enough company: vivacious and vibrant with a good story or two. The one thing that had always irked him about her though, was her penchant for shameless gossip and scandal. Despite this, she had many good traits: education, refinement and beauty. Many people commented that they would make a fine couple, just as fine as he and Elizabeth would have been…

The thought of Elizabeth and himself as a couple- a possibility, still caused a sharp ache in his heart. It was painful to recall and a part of him still resented Will Turner for his success.

Cassandra, although young, was someone he could relate to in matters of loss and unrequited love. It also pained him to know he was the one now hurting her. She had faced loss and was now chasing after justice, like he had done.

He wondered if her avoidance of him had anything to do with his rejection. If so, he found her behaviour childish and unfair. He had been very generous toward her and she knew it.

If she wants to avoid me, then I'll happily find someone else to eat with, he decided with resolve.

Cassandra shivered in the carriage as the rain pattered outside on the cobblestone and a cool breeze tickled her skin. Jamieson rode at the front, wearing a cloak against the cool morning rain. Morning had arrived quickly and now she was anticipating her meeting with Beckett. Her stomach twisted and knotted in distress- she felt like she was on her way to the noose, instead of on her way to tea.

She kept pushing aside the curtain on the carriage window to peek out at the houses passing by them. As Beckett's house came into sight, she stuck her head out the window, rain hitting her face. The ends of the gold ribbon on the hat blew in the wind.

"Jamieson!" she called. He glanced over his shoulder.

"Yes, Miss?"

"Can you stop right here? I'd like to take a short walk to my friend's house."

"In the rain, Miss…?"

She laughed. "Oh, I don't mind, Jamieson," she replied. "A little water won't kill me."

He chuckled. "Yes, you're right," he agreed. "All right." He pulled the carriage to a stop and helped her out. She smiled at him as she took his hand and climbed down.

"Thank you, Jamieson. I know it's a little odd that I want to walk...but it's just up here."

Jamieson shook his head. "As long as you're happy, Miss."

As he left, she held her hat to her head and waved at him. She had given him directions to drive into town on the street she knew Beckett lived on. But she had been careful not to give him a name or house number. She had planned this out all very carefully.

She walked along the road and up the hill toward Beckett's house. The rain was a welcome sensation, the cool dampness cooling her skin. As she knocked on the door, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves and harden her resolve.

The butler opened the door with a smile. "Ah...Lady Norrington," he greeted. "Please, come in. Lord Cutler Beckett is waiting for you in the sitting room."

She stepped inside and was once again overwhelmed by that stifling warm atmosphere. She followed the butler across the hall, partway down the corridor and into the sitting room. The butler knocked on the open door.

"Lord Cutler Beckett, Lady Norrington is"-

"Yes, yes, let her inside," he cut in impatiently. The butler's mouth hardened in a straight line and he held out his arm, gesturing for her to walk inside. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest and she stepped into the room. Beckett sat by the fireplace, in a high-backed chair. That characteristic smirk lifted his lips as she entered.

"Good morning, Cassandra," he greeted, taking a drink of his tea. "Dreadful weather we're having…"

"Yes, yes, it's quite cool too," she agreed, moving toward the gold-embroidered cream-coloured couch. She sat down on it across from him and removed her hat, hastily untying the ribbons.

He watched her, his gaze surveying her carefully. She swallowed hard, nervous.

"It seems you got a bit wet…" he remarked. "Although it does nothing to ruin that lovely dress on you... Is it new?"

She smiled as she placed her hat beside her on the couch. "Yes, it is," she replied. "I went to Miss Birch's dress shop the other day. She had it fitted for me just in time."

A servant hurried in to pour her a cup of warm tea. The servant handed her the cup of tea with a smile.

"Thank you," Cassandra said, smiling back. The servant nodded and left, closing the door behind her. The cup was warm against her hand and the steam rose up like a fragrant smoke. She blew on it and took a careful sip. Then she set it down before her on the saucer, the sound of ceramic against ceramic causing a small clink.

"So you had it made just for this visit then…" Beckett mused, a teasing tone in his voice. Cassandra raised her gaze to his and saw that he was staring at her with that same smirk, his blue eyes shining with a slyness. She felt that familiar sense of panic again, the feeling of being trapped in his clutch- like the pearl bracelet had been. She wondered where it was now. Her heart pounded again, thudding against her chest.

She laughed and averted her gaze, shy.

"Well, I have to look well for any new meetings I have here in Port Royal…" she pointed out. She raised her head and smiled at him. "Which leads me to my next point…" she trailed off.

"Which is…?" Beckett urged, curious.

She looked around at the richly decorated room, searching for the words.

"I wanted to apologize…" she began. He gave a bewildered laugh.

"For what?" he asked.

"For my behaviour the other night…" she answered slowly. He drew back slightly. "That was very out-of-character for me...and my uncle...Admiral Norrington...was not very happy with me for disappearing that night...It was very unladylike."

"Well…" Beckett began. "I quite liked it...It was refreshing." He smiled before taking a sip of his tea.

"Well...I just wanted...to...make a good impression...here in Port Royal…" she said.

"Oh, trust me, Lady Norrington, you have…" he assured her, amusement in his tone. She blushed and looked away. Her thoughts were muddled and all a mess in his presence- not because she felt anything for him, but because he had a way of controlling every conversation or exchange. She watched as the rain hit the windows and she was suddenly reminded of the sea. The ocean. Ships. Davy Jones. Her father.

She looked back at him. He was regarding her with a furrowed brow.

"Are you all right, Cassandra?" he asked, sounding uncertain.

She smiled and shook her head. "I think I might be coming down with something…" she lied. She smoothed the front of her dress with her sweaty hands, trying to calm herself. She took a deep breath and decided to jump right in. "Have you heard of Davy Jones, Lord Cutler Beckett?"

Beckett froze, his cup midway to his mouth, eyes meeting hers sharply. He stared at her for an agonizing minute.

"What do you know about Davy Jones?" he asked, voice low and suspicious.

Cassandra looked away and placed a hand on her mouth, her real grief coming through her tears.

"My uncle was captured by him…" she croaked out, grief overwhelming her. She had thought this through on her way to Beckett's. What she hadn't expected was her grief and tears to show through. "He is in his service now…"

"Your uncle," Beckett said.

She lifted her eyes to him. To her utter surprise, he wore a blank expression. No sign of compassion or sympathy.

"Yes," she replied. "My mother's brother. He is on my mother's side…" she explained.

"How did you find out?" Beckett asked.

Cassandra waved a hand, looking away. "We heard word from sailors, from people who claimed they saw his ship- the Dutchman."

"Well, there have been many people sold into slavery and service…" Beckett remarked. "Many people also make up tales and stories about sea creatures and ghost ships…" he added, smiling playfully at her.

"But...won't you and my uncle be setting sail soon? I know you would like to rid the sea of pirates…" she said. She had not expected Beckett to hide the truth from her. "Perhaps you could help me?"

He blinked, surprised at her suggestion. "Perhaps…" he answered. "You would have to give me his name though."

"I'd like to know if I can come with you and my uncle," she added, diverting his attention. He drew back again and then sighed, rising to his feet. He turned away from her to face the fireplace.

"Lady Norrington," he began. "The sea would be no place for a woman- it's rough, dirty and frightening…"

She smiled at this. If he knew she had spent a year or more on board a ship...

"But Lord Cutler Beckett, I want to see the sea and travel on a ship," she protested, rising to her own feet. "And…" she trailed off, hesitating, wondering if she should utter the words she was thinking. "I...would...miss you…"

The very words made her blush warmly. He turned around with a pleased smile on his face.

"Would you…?" he said, voice low. Cassandra's heart started to thud again and the blood pulsed in her ears. He moved toward her, slowly, calculating. He stopped mere inches from her and put his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer.

No! her mind yelled. This isn't right.

But why isn't it right? she argued as he stared into her eyes. My heart doesn't belong to James…and his doesn't belong to me...

"Well," he said, his voice nearly a whisper. "I might have to reconsider your request…"

With that, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her lips. Cassandra started. It was quick and light and...somehow unfeeling. It left her cold.

When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes and smirked. "Your uncle and I will be leaving Port Royal in a week," he informed her. "I'll inform you of my decision before the end of the week."

She nodded and he pulled away from her. He looked at the clock ticking on the mantelpiece.

"I'm afraid I have to cut our meeting short," he told her. "I must go to the fort and attend to business now."

"I understand, Lord Cutler Beckett," she said. "Thank you for listening to me."

"Thank you for gracing me with your lovely presence," he replied. Cassandra couldn't quite tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

She followed him toward the door, where one of his butlers appeared.

"Lady Norrington…" the butler said, holding out his arm. "Please follow me."

Beckett left them, walking briskly up the stairs. Cassandra glanced at him and then left.

She returned to James' house that morning. James had already left well before she had and now she was just left to herself again. She sat down at the piano in the sitting room and began to play. She had memorized a few notes and the length of them but still found the sheet music difficult. She actually found it easier to memorize the keys on the piano and their order than to read sheet music. She couldn't even read words for Pete's sake! So how was she expected to read sheet music?

She figured it would be a good way to pass the time until the noontime meal. When James arrived home, she would tell him that she might be joining him on the next voyage.

I really hope Beckett will let me go, she thought. I really don't want to sit around the house just twiddling my thumbs and drinking tea…

She played and played until the tune started to sound better. The notes rang clearly and there was a smooth flow to the first part of the song she was learning within a few hours. Edward and Adele had come in to commend her on it.

Cassandra smiled proudly, glad that she had accomplished what had at first seemed an impossible task.

By supper, her fingers were sore and she was mentally exhausted. When she sat down for supper at noon, she said to Mrs. Baker as she set her plate down before her, "I've played piano so long this morning my fingers are sore," she told her. "I don't know what else to do with myself until James comes home."

Mrs. Baker thought a moment. "Well, why don't you and Adele take a trip down to the fort? The walk and fresh air will do you both good. You might even see James."

Cassandra hesitated but Adele, overhearing from outside the door, voiced her enthusiasm.

"Oh that sounds like a marvellous idea, Mrs. Baker," she said, poking her head into the room. "I do quite like the view of the bay."

Cassandra looked up dubiously at Mrs. Baker. "Won't he be bothered if we're there?"

Mrs. Baker frowned at her. "No, dear, why? He'd only be bothered if you both distracted him from work...I'm only suggesting you go for a walk along its walls…They often have it open to the public for ceremonies and parades and walks…"

Cassandra sighed, nodding. "I suppose it's better than sitting inside with nothing better to do…"

Adele frowned at Cassandra's reluctance but said nothing.

After supper, Adele changed into her finest: a pale blue flowered dress with white cotton sleeves and a matching blue hat, complete with white ribbons. Cassandra's heart warmed at the sight and she felt bad for being so miserable about it all. Adele really was excited to go out and Cassandra realized that outings like these probably didn't happen very often for her.

"You look lovely, Adele," she remarked, taking her hands in hers. Adele smiled, her blue eyes lighting up.

"Really?" she asked.

"Of course!" Cassandra replied. "You're one of the prettiest women I know."

Adele waved a hand bashfully. "Oh stop, Cassandra! You're embarrassing me."

Cassandra smiled and looped her arm through Adele's. "Let's amaze everyone with our beauty and charm."

Adele laughed as they walked out of the house and toward the carriage.

The day had cleared considerably, although it was still cloudy. The sun came out every so often, warming the fort and casting shadows when it disappeared. The seagulls cried in the distance, circling in the bay. The bay itself sparkled in the sunlight and the waves crashed against the rocky shore.

Adele breathed in deeply. "Oh...I can smell the salt and the sea from here...How I would love to swim in it as a fish does…"

Cassandra laughed.

"Now that would be a funny sight to see…" a voice behind them said. Both of them jumped and turned to see Lieutenant Groves standing behind them, to Adele's left, a smile on his face. He chuckled, his gaze moving from Adele to Cassandra and back again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you both," he apologized, a slight smile on his face. He turned his attention to Adele. "Adele, you look lovely."

Adele lowered her gaze, a blush staining her cheeks. "Thank you, Lieutenant Groves."

Cassandra smiled and he turned to her.

"As do you, Cassandra."

She smiled. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

He stepped forward, his brown eyes lit with curiosity and playfulness. "What brings you ladies here?"

"An afternoon walk. A need for air and sea…" Cassandra told him.

"Always a good idea…" he remarked. After a moment, he added with a chuckle, "It must be boring living with James."

Cassandra and Adele gasped in shock at his comment, covering their mouths to keep from laughing. He grinned at them.

"Don't tell him I said that…" he told them.

"Is he eating supper?" Cassandra found herself asking, much to her own irritation. He tilted his head at her, a secretive expression on his face.

"Yes...why do you ask?" he said. "Do you want to see him?"

"Oh, no, no, no," Cassandra objected, shaking her head. "I wouldn't want to bother him during his work hours. I was just curious, that's all…"

"Well, he isn't on his work hours," Groves argued, smiling. "He's on his break and usually takes a walk around the fort after his meal anyway…" He thought a moment and then turned to her. "In fact...I'll go and find him. And then we can all walk together."

Cassandra opened her mouth to object but he was already walking away. Adele grabbed Cassandra's arm.

"Well, this worked out very nicely."

Cassandra gave her a nervous smile.

Ten minutes later, Groves returned with James. He met Cassandra's gaze, his mouth set in a grim line. She looked away, watching the soldiers do a drill, marching in the courtyard below.

They looked like toy soldiers- so stiff and inanimate, their faces stoic and expressionless.

"May I?" she heard Groves say to Adele. She turned around and saw that he was holding out his arm to Adele. This surprised many around them, including soldiers and nobles. Adele hesitated and Groves added, "I won't offer you my arm if you don't want to take it. But will you walk with me?"

Adele smiled. "I'd be happy to, Lieutenant."

"Please, call me Theodore…" he told her. From the corner of her eye, she could see James watching him. He watched them go and then turned to stare at Cassandra, who was still watching Groves and Adele.

James shuffled on his feet, folding his hands behind his back. He looked away, toward the bay.

"Are you going to continue ignoring me?"

Cassandra started and turned to stare at him. She nearly fell over backward. His green eyes were fixed on her: intense and penetrating. And he seemed very close. Too close.

She looked away, staring at the bay and its horizon before her.

"I told you...I haven't been feeling well…" she lied. "Ever since Beckett's dinner party."

He let out a heavy sigh and she wondered if he knew she was lying. He always seemed to know.

"Where's the bracelet I gave you?"

She blinked and stared at him with wide eyes. He raised an eyebrow as he noted her expression. She looked away, all the guilt she felt suddenly overwhelming her. She hadn't expected that question.

"I... lost it…"

He stiffened. "I see…" he said. Moments passed between them and he added, "You look lovely…"

His compliment pained her and she pressed her lips together, trying to hold in her tears.

"Beckett might allow me to go with you on your voyage…" she said in a low voice to him. She could hear his sharp intake of breath. She knew it would shock him; it was what she wanted.

"So you've been talking with him then…" he surmised. He looked down. "You know...one almost wonders why you would actually need my help…" he mused. She turned to him, eyes wide.

"James…" she began, feeling panicked.

His gaze flickered up to hers. "Admiral," he corrected sharply. "I suppose you're well on your way to accomplishing things on your own, Miss Lockheart."

A silence passed between them until he spoke again.

"Good day."

With those words, he turned on his heel and walked away.

She felt tears prick her eyes as he left. Her lower lip trembled but she bit it, fighting back her tears. She wouldn't let him make her feel guilty for what she had done.

I have no time for propriety, she thought to herself. I have to save my father.

She hurried away to catch up with Groves and Adele.