Many apologies for the delay and the short chapter; I absolutely promise more soon. I am on summer break now, so I should be able to put more time into this and all my other writings.
The Harrier pulled into Port Royal two months after she had left. There was nothing visibly wrong with her; in fact, she seemed to be in better shape than when she had left. Governor Swann could not help but notice the difference; could it be that Norrington had returned, for surely the Commodore would not allow Gillette to continue to mistreat the crew and the ship? A frown marred Frederick Buffington's face as he considered the same possibility; he glanced at Philip Norrington only to find that the baronet was wearing a neutral expression.
There was no sign of Commodore Norrington in the landing crew, however, and Governor Swann was surprised to find himself breathing a sigh of relief. Quite apart from his political problems, he was not sure that there was enough evidence to keep Buffington from hanging James on the spot, much less convince him to take the matter to trial. A moment later he was frowning as he noticed that not only was there no sign of the Commodore, but the Captain was similarly nowhere in evidence. Instead of the short, nervous Gillette, a slightly weary-looking Lieutenant, Groves if he remembered correctly, stepped forward to meet them.
"Lieutenant Groves reporting in place of Captain Gillette, your Excellency, my lords," he said, offering a rather stiff bow.
"And what, may one enquire, has become of Captain Gillette?" Buffington asked sharply.
"I regret to say that we came upon the Black Pearl in our search for Commodore Norrington. Captain Gillette was captured during the ensuing action," Groves replied calmly.
"They intend to hold him for ransom?"
"I should expect so, my lord, yes."
"They would have no other reason to take him captive?" At this, Groves gave the Marquis a quizzical look while the Governor frowned and Philip Norrington raised one eyebrow.
"What are you suggesting, Lord Buffington?" he asked. "Pirates take prisoners on a regular basis; surely you are well-acquainted with the practice?" Frederick watched him narrowly for a moment before replying.
"Of course," he said stiffly, letting the matter drop for the moment. "Was there any sign of Commodore Norrington during the voyage?" he asked coolly. It took every ounce of self-control Groves possessed not to give the game away; in the end, however, he was able to look Lord Buffington in the eyes as he replied, lying just as composedly as Buffington himself would have done.
"No, my lord, there was no sign of the Commodore." In a way it was true, Groves thought privately; he had seen no sign of any Commodore aboard the Black Pearl, only an exceptionally tall, familiar-looking pirate. To his credit, Sir Philip did not react to this casual deceit; his eyes met Groves' for a split second and then he looked away, seemingly disinterested in anything further the Lieutenant said. Internally he breathed a sigh of relief; it was good to see that at least one of the Naval officers was not in Buffington's pocket.
Frederick Buffington, however, was nothing if not perceptive. His eyes narrowed at the negative response and he stared at Groves for a long moment, during which the Lieutenant endeavored to appear politely curious. Finally the elder Buffington looked away with a sniff.
"Well, I should say it is quite obvious that the Royal Navy has become lax in its duties. First you fail to properly guard a dangerous prisoner and now you lose a pirate ship for the – third? – time. What have you to say for yourself?"
Groves took a deep breath before replying. "We will apprehend your father's murderer, I promise you Lord Buffington, as we will the pirates that sail these waters. If I may be excused, my lords, I should oversee the unloading of the wounded." Buffington nodded curtly; the Governor waved a hand in permission, a helpless expression on his face. Groves turned on his heel and walked away, sparing a nod to Sir Philip and Lord Huntingdon.
He was fuming as he left the Governor's office. Dangerous prisoner?! Lax in his duties?! How dare that noxious ferret judge James or the Royal Navy? If Groves had not known better he would have said that Buffington had it in for the Navy as a whole, not just Commodore Norrington.
He wandered through the fort, troubled at that last thought. Buffington certainly was out to taste blood, specifically James's. Groves doubted that the Marquis would be satisfied with anything else at this point, no matter what the evidence of James's innocence. Could it be that Buffington had some sort of grudge against the Commodore? And if he did, to what lengths would he go for revenge? Would he, perhaps, frame James for murder and then pay Gillette to help him when his initial plan failed?
He thought about the look on Buffington's face when he had denied seeing Norrington. The man's eyes had been cold, absolutely frigid. They were not the eyes of a man who was merely angry; they were the eyes of a man who had seen yet another plan thwarted, the eyes of a courtier, and Groves had never known anything good to come out of a courtier's schemes. He did not know much of the Court but he knew that the look in Buffington's eyes had frightened him where skeletal pirates had not; it promised death, and death there would be if Groves didn't do something. He was not surprised to find that his feet had led him to the Admiralty Court; he stepped inside with a feeling of grim determination. He would find a way to save his friend and if he had to bring down Buffington to do so, then so be it.
The first step would be the office, he decided. If he could get inside the Commodore's office to have a look at his paperwork, then he might be able to find some explanation for Buffington's behavior; he would have to do so without the interference of the Admiralty or of the Buffington brothers though, and to do that he needed authorization from one of the Lords of the Admiralty. To do that he would need a solid reason for his suspicions, not just an odd feeling about the elder Buffington and a conviction that James was not a murderer. It was either that or… his face split in a satisfied grin as he turned his steps toward the office of one Admiral Edward Vernon.
A.N. - Edward Vernon was in fact stationed in the West Indies around 1720; however, in actual fact, he was the Commodore of Port Royal at that time (grin).