Chapter 14

What, I told you senior year was hard work…

It was a lucky thing that the bad luck so often referenced that morning did not seem to lay itself upon those joyful heads that morning, and everything had gone just according to plan. Certainly one very superstitious person might consider the organist's few wrong, tipsy notes in the opening song the omen of a similarly incongruous and inconsistent marriage, but that thought was wasted on the happy couple, who seemed to be bathed in pure joy. James' ill will from an hour ago was gone, and his heart was nearly giddy at the thought that finally-- finally!-- Meredith would be all his. Her ring was sitting, slippery with his own sweat, in the palm of his hand, ready for her finger.

"With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow." He recited, his hand shaking as he slipped the plain golden band over her finger-- her hands were just as warm and flushed as his were—and held her hands, watching her intently and waiting for the order that he had been longing to obey.

"You may now kiss the bride." The reverend said benevolently.

And he did. Probably a little shorter than he would have liked, but there would be time for that later. Their hands stayed clasped as they walked back down the aisle of the little church, the guests clapping over the music. A coach and four stood waiting outside the little church, and James helped Meredith in, signaling for the coachmen to carry them back to his house-- their house, now, oh happy thought!—so that the festivities might commence.

Their new maid- hired the week previous after a thorough interrogation by Mrs. Lords, Hannah and Henrietta- opened the door, and the smells of dishes too numerous and delicious to name swept over them, coming from the kitchen where a small army of cooks and scullions, hired for the occasion, were hard at work preparing the wedding banquet. Meredith charged upstairs to change clothes, but not before James had kissed her again in their foyer, properly and longer this time. "You're all mine now- mine and my own." He whispered in her ear. Meredith smiled and pulled away from him.

"And I won't forget it, James." She said with a rogue little smile, pulling away and going up the stairs, leaving James to oversee the preparations until she returned to shoo him amicably away from the kitchen.

Who had any idea that the house could hold so many people! The guests kept coming and coming, greeting the newlyweds and adding gifts to the steadily growing pile near the door, listening to the music and dancing. When Meredith finally emerged from the kitchen to announce that dinner was ready, she was greeted with a cheer and a kiss from her husband.

After dinner- plates and plates of sumptuous food that carried the spice of the islands with it along with the longstanding English tradition- there was more dancing. James and Meredith presided over the room like a king and queen holding court, socializing and laughing with friends and relatives. Meredith's father asked her for a dance, and James watched her go, smiling at her smile. When the dance was over he lost sight of her, and then someone else caught his attention.

"Gilette!" he called, and the former lieutenant- he was now a captain, James noted, as the epaulette on his shoulder would attestt- came over, shaking hands and laughing.

"It's been a while, James. How have you been keeping?"

"Oh, fair." James said noncommittally, and there was a pause before the two men laughed.

" Fair's hardly the word, for a newly married man! What are you doing now? I haven't seen you at the Admiralty." The captain said with a level of concern.

"I'm in the merchanting line, Gilette. I gave up on the Navy. It was safer." James confessed.

Gilette smiled. "Anything to do with the wife?" He asked, pointing to Meredith, dancing with a young man James didn't recognize.

"Everything to do with the wife." James enunciated, watching her and her unknown partner with a fondness.

Gilette chuckled. "How did you two meet, anyway?" he asked, interested. James stopped, unable to think of something better than "Oh, yes, well, she sank my ship and kept me prisoner for several months and then I fell in love with her," so took the most ambiguous line possible.

"It was over a matter of mutual interest." He said with a smile, and Gilette nodded.

"Not going to tell, you rascal? Well, keep your secrets then. I was only wondering if I could find one of her somewhere for myself."

James laughed. "Search away, my friend, search away. You won't find another like her in the whole world."

The dance finished, Meredith came back, escorted by the young man. As they drew closer, James' expression darkened.

"Mr. Turner." He said flatly, keeping his face as neutral as possible while taking Meredith's hand. Hell take that man for both making it onto the guest list and making the time to actually come!

"Mr. Norrington, I thank you for the pleasure of dancing with your wife." The young blacksmith said calmly, bowing and turning to leave.

"Will, where've you been?" Elizabeth asked, breezing up, resplendent as she always seemed to be in honey damask. She pulled up a little short, seeing Norrington, and quickly curtseyed. "Mr. and Mrs. Norrington. Congratulations to you both." She added quickly, smiling at Meredith and pointedly not looking at James.

" I was having a dance with the bride, Elizabeth. I hope, Mr. Norrington, I can afford you the same honor at my own wedding." He said with a little smile, taking Elizabeth's hand in his own. James nodded congenially.

"I look forward to the occasion." He said with a little smile, feeling Meredith's hand close tighter around his own. The young couple went away, and James sat down, a little melancholy.

"James, we promised to forget about that." Meredith whispered, reminding him as she sat down again beside him. James took a heavy drink from his glass and sighed.

"I only wish…" James began. Meredith looked at him threateningly, daring him to finish.

"What, James, you only wish what?" she asked, her demure veneer slipping off quicker by the second.

"I only wish you hadn't invited them!" James said in exasperation. "And I sincerely wish you hadn't danced with him."

Meredith's bristles relaxed. "He's a terrible dancer, if you must know." She confided in him. After several moments of silence between them, she smiled a little and pulled him to his feet as the quartet struck up a reel. "Come, let us show Miss Elizabeth what she is missing." She said spiritedly, nearly dragging him to the dance floor. James could not help but laugh as they were pulled into the line of dancers, skipping gaily.

After all the guests had gone home and the laughter and music had faded from the house, Meredith and James sat in the sitting room, opening the sizable stack of gifts.

Meredith put her hand on a wooden, carven box, the next in the pile, opening it up. "No, wait!" James said quickly. Meredith stopped, and looked at him quizzically. "That's my gift to you. I wanted you to open it later." He explained.

Meredith nodded, and put it aside. "Look! Monogrammed silverware!" James said, wanting to change the subject quickly, opening one of the boxes and holding it up to the light. He squinted for a moment, and then frowned. "Oh, that's curious. It's the wrong initials. HBH. I wonder who would mix up such a thing--there's no card."

"Oh, that was probably one of mine." Meredith said offhandedly. "They are constantly mixing things up. Very hurried people, my family. Here, we'll leave it blank on the list."

James looked up. "List?" he inquired.

"Yes, I'm making a list. For thank you notes." Meredith said.

James smiled and sighed. "Could I have found a better woman in the entire world?" He asked rhetorically, gazing happily at her.

"No, James, I don't think you could have." Meredith supplied for argument's sake.

"And now she's all mine." James said with subdued joy.

"Not quite all yours, Monsigneur." A voice said in heavily French-accented English. James looked up to behold a blond giant, glaring angrily at the two of them. How had he gotten in? Perhaps the door was not locked. He had a curious mess of scars running over his cheek and up into part of his forehead, as if he had been cut with a great deal of shrapnel. The eye on that side of his face was covered as well. James stood up, holding out his hand, hoping to make the best of a bad situation.

"I don't believe we've had the pleasure, Master…" he trailed off, hoping the man would finish the sentence. He didn't. instead, he turned to Meredith.

"Well, my dove? Why don't you introduce me to this man? Or don't you recognize me?" the blond thundered.

James looked at Meredith, who was nearly mute with fear. In a quavering voice, she managed two small words.

"Hello, Antoine."

Anyone remember who he is? No? well, you'll have to go find out, then. There's a very subtle joke about another one of my favorite sea-going characters in this chapter- Pastry to anyone who can figure out what it is.