SWEET DISPOSITION

The next morning arrives much earlier than I had expected. A steady stream of knocking on my bedroom door startles me awake. Blearily, I lift my head and squint into the darkness.

"Yes?"

Without pretense Estrella bustles into the room, out of breath, and immediately throws open the heavy curtains on the windows to let in the early morning sunlight. I close my eyes as the sun's weak light sweeps through the room.

Stifling a yawn I ask, "W- What's the meaning of all this Estrella? I haven't been up this early in some time."

Estrella gives me an affronted look as I fall back onto the bed and bury my face in the pillow. She goes about taking clothes from the bureau and laying them out one by one for me to put on.

"I'll have you know that Lady Norrington and the Commodore are here to see you about wedding plans. I suggest you not keep them waiting as the Lady does not seem to be a very patient woman."

I sit bolt upright completely shaken by Estrella's announcement and feeling quite wide-awake.

"Good God, why didn't you say so sooner?" I hiss frantically as I launch myself from the bed, taking up the clothes that have been laid out, and slipping behind the dressing screen. "Damn her for coming so soon. I thought James would have to work today…"

Estrella makes no note of my vulgar language, but bobs back and forth looking utterly helpless as she passes me further articles of clothing. She hastily laces up the back of my gown and attempts to do something with my hair, which is as it usually is upon waking, a mess. Estrella deftly twists it up and out of the way, tucking away stray strands as quickly as she can.

"There now," she says, satisfied, "Go, go!"

Hiking up my skirts I dash from the room and down the corridor before taking the stairs two at a time. Skidding to a halt in front of the sitting room door I take a deep breath, pat down my hair, and smooth down my dress front before stepping inside. Both son and mother's heads snap around as I enter the room, trying as hard as I can to exude a sense of calm. The tension in the room is immediately apparent and is increased tenfold when James suddenly stands up.

"Elizabeth," he acknowledges quietly, my name barely a breath escaping his lips.

I smile tightly and motion toward the chaise Lady Norrington is seated upon as I move toward a chair situated across from them.

"Do be seated, James."

He nods curtly and lowers himself stiffly, his mother watching this exchange with intense interest. Avoiding James' ardent gaze, I pour myself a cup of tea and wait for Lady Norrington to say something as I can tell she is bursting to do so. It does not take much time for her to start. Setting down her teacup she begins without even offering an explanation for why they are so early.

"Now then, usually it is the job of the bride's family to plan these sorts of things, but considering the circumstances-"

"Yes, my mother is dead," I mutter under my breath.

Lady Norrington, although I am sure she has heard me, simply cocks her head and gives me a glittering smile that reveals small, slightly pointed teeth. James shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"Exactly, and your father isn't exactly up to planning a wedding, is he? These types of things need a feminine touch, and that's what I'm here to offer."

I hardly realise how hard my hands are clenched together until I slice the inside of my palm with a fingernail. Flexing one hand unconsciously and ignoring the blood, I nod in agreement, and Lady Norrington continues without taking a breath.

"Let's discuss the guest list first. I'll discuss whom James would like to invite with him later. As for you, is there anyone not within your immediate acquaintance that you would like to send an invitation to?"

I shake my head.

"No, ma'am."

Lady Norrington frowns slightly, raising her eyebrows.

"There's no one at all back in England?"

I shake my head again not bothering to tell her that I left England when I was twelve and thus have no connections there. Suddenly, I realise that I do not have many connections here either. The only person I would see fit to invite to the wedding would be Papa and Estrella, and that's not saying much. Lady Norrington leans forward and pats my arm sympathetically, and I freeze, broken from my reverie.

"It's understandable, dear," she says, her voice dripping with an obvious amount of pity.

I draw my brows together in confusion and shift away from her touch.

"Sorry?"

Lady Norrington waves her hand non-committally and speaks quickly, "I simply mean that it's understandable that you should have no one you would wish to invite. This is Jamaica for goodness sake. Not exactly a stones throw from England, is it?"

I bristle slightly at the implication, but before I can say anything James butts in abruptly.

"Mother, we came here to plan a wedding, not to antagonize one another."

James' mother smiles at him sweetly and pecks him on the cheek. He attempts to smile, but it comes across as a grimace, and I am at least grateful to know that I am not the only one suffering in her presence. Despite this fact, I am fuming over James' chivalry and wish he had said nothing so that I could have taken a bite out of his darling mother.

"All right then," she says, a false sweetness returning to her voice, "I'll send you an official list of invites as soon as I can. In fact, I'll bring it when I come by for the dress fitting."

"The dress fitting?" I ask, genuinely surprised, "I assumed I would be able to wear my mother's modified wedding dress."

James looks as though he is about to say something, but his mother cuts him off.

"I'll have to look at it first of course, but I'm sure we can make it look presentable."

I gape at her, anger that has already been building up over the past quarter hour boiling over as red heat spreads through my cheeks.

"Presentable?" I hiss, standing up immediately with my hands balled by my sides, my eyes burning into hers. There is a beat of silence in which she refuses to blink, and I sweep toward the door, propelled by my resentment. I turn at the door momentarily and spit out, "I hope you can see your way out."

The front hall is a blur as I hurry up the stairs that I came down not too long ago and enter my room. Estrella is there, straightening the room and dusting as she usually does, and I instantly throw myself into her arms.

"She's unbearable, Estrella! Absolutely unbearable!" I sob, as Estrella lowers me onto the bed. "You should have heard the way she was talking about Mama. All she could do was compare everything I said to herself and the bloody aristocracy of England. It was ridiculous!"

Suddenly there is a knock on the door. I swipe my hand across my eyes and meet Estrella's wondering look. She moves toward the door and opens it a crack. Someone speaks to her on the other side in a deep murmur, and then the door is closed. Estrella presses her back against it and mouths, "The Commodore."

I shake my head vigorously and take a handkerchief out of my sleeve to wipe my eyes. Estrella opens the door once again and whispers to James Norrington outside before turning back to me.

"He's insistent," she says quietly.

I give an exasperated sigh, but stand up anyway. It does not seem like I will be able to avoid him this time. The corridor is darkened when I join James, and he startles me slightly as he moves from the shadows. Concern is etched into every line of his face as his eyes search mine.

"I must apologise for my mother's behaviour," he says quietly, "She had no right to treat you in such a manner. What she implied about your own mother is unforgivable. I promise you it will not happen again."

"It should not have happened to begin with," I say tightly, attempting to keep the emotion out of my voice.

"Of course," he says, bowing his head in agreement.

Now that he is here alone without the presence of his mother hanging over us like a cloud I feel my confidence rise, and I long to cut him with my words as his mother's words have done to me.

"And another thing," I say, my voice growing slightly louder and more harsh, "if such a situation should occur again I would ask that you allow me to speak for myself instead of putting your words into my mouth."

He simply nods again, and I can feel my frustration mount despite the fact that I knew he would react in such a manner. James has always been that way, submissive and indifferent. I give him a sneer of disgust that he seems to ignore.

"Don't you have anything to say besides apologies that aren't even yours to be made?" I hiss, leaning toward him so that Estrella cannot hear from where I know she is listening at the door.

He remains unmoved by my taunting, though I see his shoulders tense imperceptibly. He replies just as I expect him to.

"I just wanted to say that I hope you wear your mother's wedding gown. I know it will look beautiful on you."

The gentle benevolence behind his words working in the face of my unspeakable cruelty causes me to shake with anger, although this time the anger is directed at myself and no one else. I wrap my arms around myself as James disappears around the corner, hating myself for the way I treat him when he hardly deserves it; when his only crime against me is the fact that he loves me.

Authoress' Note: Aww, James. :( Anyway, thanks for the reviews – they are fuel for the fire! Nurr, don't worry about missing a few reviews. I'm honoured that you read this anyway!