Come Back

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

The day of the Falcon's and the Halcyon's return had been hectic and busy; Lieutenant Groves still acting as head of the fort had to supervise all dealings and on top been forced to spend the evening in the Governor's house. He'd much rather have paid lovely Miss van Dyke a visit to tell her all that had happened, and most of all, to be the one to bring her the good tidings that the Commodore was alive and healthy. The next day, he could refrain no longer and headed over to her parents' house. She almost seemed to have waited for him, welcoming him warmly and leading him to the parlour.

"It's so good to see you!" She smiled warmly. "You can't imagine how worried I've been!"

"Very understandable, but I assure you, the Commodore is very well. He got over his injuries almost instantly."

She looked slightly puzzled. "Oh – that's splendid! I didn't even know he was injured… So what about you?"

"The Halcyon was too late for the battle; had it been only up to us to help, the Challenger might have been lost. You have Captain Sparrow to thank that it hasn't come like this."

"Captain Sparrow and the Lord, yes. Although I must say I'm almost glad that you were too late, as you say. I only heard some servants' gossip, but this Captain Friday is a dangerous man, is he not?"

"He is certainly. The Commodore was very lucky."

"Yes, he was, and isn't it even luckier that you haven't been there? Oh, I must not think of it!"

Now it was Groves who was astonished, and he could think of nothing better to say than, "I would have been glad to fight for my Commodore, Miss van Dyke."

"You are very fond of him, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am, very much indeed. He's more than just a superior, he's– almost a friend, if I may be so bold to say so. But why do you ask me that?"

"Well," she chuckled, "because you talk about him so much."

He felt the heat rising to his face, "Do I? Oh – well, I thought you'd like to hear about him…"

"I do like to hear about the Challenger, yes, and the Commodore is a very good man, but – what makes you think I'd be particularly interested to hear about him?" She looked quizzically and straight to his eyes. He had to avert his gaze, incapable to find an instant answer.

"Uhm – you see – er… Just what people keep talking…"

"And what are they talking, Lieutenant?"

"Oh, you know!"

"Apparently I do not. What do they say then?"

"Well, that you – and the Commodore – you know…" he murmured almost inaudibly, still avoiding to look at her.

She gave a bright laugh. "That's what they say, is it? The Commodore and me? But that's ridiculous!"

His eyes darted up, finding her utterly amused. "Ridiculous? No, I don't think so – why do you say that?"

"It's always like that with people's gossip – the last persons to hear about themselves are those in question! I severely doubt that Commodore would be happy to hear any such presumptions, and neither am I."

"I do understand your delicate sense of propriety, Miss –"

"I'm not speaking of propriety, Lieutenant! I like Commodore Norrington very well, and I suppose he likes me too, but I assure you, that is all there is to it! He's in love with Miss Swann, and I –"

She stopped and turned down her gaze, too, clearly agitated, possibly hurt; it grieved him to watch her like that. Darned Miss Swann, why was it always Miss Swann, Miss Swann, Miss Swann!

"Miss van Dyke, you can believe me, he'll forget Miss Swann soon enough. You needn't – you mustn't – aggravate yourself because of that –"

"Aggravate myself? But sir – let me clarify some things!" She turned her look back on him, it was almost a glare. "You seem to be labouring under the false impression that I had feelings for Commodore Norrington beyond mere friendship, which I wish to make clear I have not. I do have the highest regard for him, he is an entirely amiable man, and not too long ago, I would have declared firmly that this was enough to form a marriage upon. I was mistaken. The Commodore has not captured my heart, and I daresay he has no intention to ever do so much as try it. I'd be very unhappy if he did, for it would grieve me to cause such a good man any uneasiness by refusing him."

He goggled at her, at a total loss for words, finally managing to stammer, "You – don't – I see!"

"Did you believe those rumours as well?"

He couldn't bear to look at her and turned away; this was all a little much for him. On the one hand, he felt exceedingly uneasy with her revelation – he feared the Commodore to be disappointed again, after Groves himself had talked him into the whole story! But on the other hand, his heart seemed to burst with joy – she did not love the Commodore! That meant nothing in respect of himself, naturally, but to think of her unattached to anybody was nevertheless –

"Did you believe it, Lieutenant Groves?"

"Well, I must admit I did," he murmured, pretending sudden and strong interest in one of the portraits on the wall; he didn't know what else to do. He heard her chuckle, but it was no merry sound.

"I see… You are the Commodore's friend, and you wished to promote his happiness, yes. That's very good of you, and I'm sorry to disappoint your expectations in me."

He muttered some excuses and escaped as fast as he could. This was – he couldn't say himself. He was mostly angry with himself, for a whole variety of reasons. Foremost – why hadn't he kept his mouth shut? Why had he ever introduced the topic to his friend? The Commodore had never thought of Miss van Dyke until he had mentioned her! Mention – ha! He had almost talked him into fancying her, emphasising her qualities on every possible occasion! He had been ready to swear that the lovely lady just waited for a proposal! And now?

Almost as dreadful for his peace of mind was the notion that she was angry with him for his interference. The way she had looked at him when he had hurried away – she had been glad that he had left, without doubt. Terrible, most terrible! But what could he do to reconcile?

He did not dare to pay another visit, he didn't meet her accidentally either, and more than a week passed without seeing as much as a trace of her. He had hoped that her absence would at least calm him, but it didn't. He meant to see her everywhere, just to realise in the next moment that he had deceived himself. He was plain miserable.

The Challenger returned on the morning of Christmas Eve, and after the news of Captain Friday's defeat had spread like wildfire around town, many residents now ran down to the harbour to welcome the victorious crew. Not even the other soldiers could refrain from such enthusiasm, trying to run with a little more decorum perhaps, but run they did. Loud cheers resounded all around when the majestic ship slowly entered harbour as more and more people arrived to join the welcoming crowd. The Governor's carriage could not negotiate its way through the throngs of people, so both he and his thrilled daughter had to get out and continue by foot.

"Hurry up, Papa!"

On hand clutching his hat on his head, he breathlessly followed her, and if he had not been the Governor, the people might not have let him through.

Lieutenant Groves saw the Commodore's puzzled expression when descending the leeway, and he had scarcely touched solid grounds – the Lieutenant being far from welcoming him yet – when little Miss Swann was almost jumping at him already.

"James!" She yelped over the roaring applause. "I thought I should never see you again!"

Lieutenant Groves rolled his eyes, her father shut his with embarrassment, and the Commodore – well, he stared at her while she kissed his hand in great animation.

"Miss Swann!" He swallowed, stumped. "Miss Swann, how can I ever thank you for your – there are perhaps some hundred men on this ship owing their lives to you and I am one of them –"

Frantically, she shook her head. "No, no! Don't say that! I did but little, and the little I did I didn't think through – I may have ruined you – did I ruin you? I'll make my father give you my dowry for a start and –"

He had only a vague idea what she was talking about. "Ruin me? To the contrary –"

"So the Admiral did pardon Jack, yes?"

"I assure you, Captain Sparrow is safe."

She cast her eyes to the sky above. "Oh Lord, thank you," she groaned, pressing his hands once more and returning to look him straight in the eyes. "Now – your injuries! Are they very bad? How are you? You must know you are always welcome in our house –"

"But believe me, I am fine, I've never been better –"

"You should see Dr. Jennings nevertheless! One can never know! Oh James, I cannot tell you how –"

"Elizabeth, darling," the Governor coughed delicately and tried to pull her away. "Allow the Commodore to fully arrive before you monopolise him entirely!"

She blushed, James smiled wryly, Groves shook his head. This girl! He smartly saluted to his superior, and pretty much in order, they would have headed for the fort if it hadn't been for the jubilant crowds around them. It was incredible how many inhabitants Port Royal had, if one thought about it. There seemed to be roughly six thousand people gathered on the docks altogether hailing the glorious victors.

"What is this?" the Commodore asked under his breath. "What do all those people want here?"

"Don't blame me, sir. By now, every child tells the story of your defeat of Captain Friday," Groves answered just as quietly.

"But I didn't defeat Friday!"

"Yes, you did, sir."

"No, I didn't. If it hadn't been for the Black Pearl arriving and Mr. Gibbs –"

"You fought him and you beat him, sir. That's all the people care for. Leave them their fun, I say."

"And I say this is embarrassing!"

"But they won't stop anyway. You can set up a bulletin later." Groves grinned; he found it right that crew and Captain were honoured. They had won a hundred battles without further acknowledgement, if they were praised now for one they hadn't won on a sheer technicality, it was just as well.

Closely behind them, the Governor walked next to his daughter, who was terribly excited and fidgety.

"My dear, please calm yourself."

"Hm?"

"I said you ought to calm down, dear!"

"Beg your pardon, father, what did you say?"

He groaned, but she didn't listen anyway. Her eyes were fixed on the tall figure before her; her heart was throbbing with bliss. He was alive, he was here, he at least promised he was all right – she closely observed him, spying for any possible trace of an injury, but he walked just as straight and dignified as always. She would have to take a close look at his face again to make really sure!

She had always tried to stay away from the consultations between the head of the fort (which the Commodore was once more; the Admiral had him instantly reinstated) and the Governor. Normally, these meetings were lethally boring. Nothing ever really happened, and if something interesting had happened, she had usually been denied to attend. Today, no power of persuasion or her father's soft urgings could drive Miss Swann away. She had heard the story a dozen times, but she wanted to hear it once more from James himself, and doing so, she'd watch out whether he was truly well, and if not –

The Commodore wasn't oblivious of her close surveillance – quite the opposite – and it thoroughly unnerved him. He tried to look anywhere but at her, anxious not to meet her gaze. After a half an hour, he was almost ready to believe that something must indeed be wrong with him. And even being perfectly fine (he was, despite everything, still rather sure he was), if she went on like that, he'd soon be so no more. He'd rather have another fight with Captain Friday than standing up to Elizabeth's inquisitive glances, they were unsettling him so much more.

"What about your new ship, Commodore?" the Governor asked sweetly. "Is she as good as the Dauntless?"

Ah, the ship! A safe matter; Elizabeth could impossibly read any injury out of that topic! "She certainly is, sir. She withstood the attacks of four ships without too severe damage, nothing that couldn't be mended. We could do most right after the battle and the rest was done in Nassau. Yes, the Challenger is after all a very proper successor for the Dauntless."

"I'm glad to hear it." Governor Swann smiled, satisfied with the reply. His daughter however was not; she had grown to strongly dislike the Challenger, she could not say why, and found it unsuitable to do as much as compare her to the Dauntless, let alone hear her being praised. How could James say she was a proper replacement?!

"Speaking of Nassau –how did it go?"

"More or less as expected. The Admiral was of course furious. Captain Stansfield was one of his favourites, he personally advanced his career, you know. I think he would have liked to throttle him with his bare hands, given half a chance. But being of a mercurial temper, he just as quickly calmed down again, and seemed greatly amused even by Captain Sparrow's request. He granted it without further ado – in fact, he seemed quite pleased by the idea to have the Black Pearl badgering the Spanish and the French and have her out of our hair."

He smiled with the recollection of Thompson's reaction, which was in its wording unrepeatable with a lady present. Had he looked at Elizabeth while speaking, he would have seen her glow with relief; she had never liked the Admiral and even less trusted his judgement. She had been almost sure that James would see himself obliged to give every pound he possessed to Jack due to her unguarded promise, and she wouldn't have been able to forgive herself for it. However, he did not look, and neither did her father who beamed now.

"Excellent! But what about Friday?"

"He was tried and hanged directly the next day."

"Very good – and Captain Stansfield?"

"He was hanged right next to Friday."

"And that's still too good for him!" Elizabeth hissed.

James shot her a swift glance of surprise at her vehemence, and felt quite overpowered by the sight of her gleaming eyes.

"As far as I can see, most of Friday's crew and all of Stansfield's will share their captains' fates. I do hope though that a few of his men – I say men, in fact they're mere boys of fifteen, seventeen and eighteen – may be pardoned after all. They had been deckhands on the last ship Friday has preyed on and were so deadly afraid that they followed him. But even their own comrades swore that neither of them ever committed any crime other than joining Friday's crew, and I hope the jury can be persuaded to spare them."

"You wish to pardon some pirates?" Elizabeth asked amiably, and being thus addressed, he couldn't help it but look over to her, finding her smiling fondly.

He shot her a swift smile in return, then quickly looked away again. Good heavens, she was more beautiful today than he had even remembered her. There was an animation in her features as he had rarely noticed before, and intensity in her gaze shaking him in his foundations – he simply couldn't bear it.

"I certainly do, but it's neither my place nor in my power. I'm happy to let a jury decide," he replied with strained cool.

"In all this I notice that you have an excellent insight into human nature, Commodore. Unlike the Admiral did with Stansfield, you never quite trusted Lieutenant Gillette," the Governor remarked shrewdly.

Sadly, James shook his head. "I don't deserve that praise, sir. It might never have come to all this – at least the Lieutenant's involvement – if I had been kinder to him."

"Nonsense!" Elizabeth exclaimed hotly.

"At least I don't have him on my conscience," he proceeded hesitantly. "I presume you won't have heard this, I only learnt about it during the voyage to Nassau myself. He – Lieutenant Gillette – did not hang himself as we believed. Mr. Harper, Captain Stansfield's Second Lieutenant, hoping to bargain for something less than the sure death penalty, turned against him, you see, so we found out that the Captain... Well, it was he who killed his cousin when he thought he had become a threat. Apparently he knocked him out with a hit in the neck and hanged him then."

Elizabeth, once again thinking what kind of man she had wanted Marleen to marry, clasped her hands to her eyes.

"Miss Swann, are you unwell? I'm afraid you shouldn't have heard that – don't make yourself uneasy, please. He appears to have suffocated without regaining consciousness. He didn't suffer unduly –"

"What? Oh. Yes, I guess that's good..."

"Can I get you a glass of water? Do you wish to lie down? Shall I call the carriage for you?" he asked hopefully. She had to go; he couldn't endure her worried gaze much longer. It felt like burning.

"No, no! I'm fine, really," she murmured weakly and tried to smile. "Or – yes, a glass of water might be good."

He was glad to have something to do that gave him a chance to conceal his face, and with much more caution than necessary, he poured a glass and handed it over to her. He could feel that she was looking at him, but he looked only at her trembling fingers and made a small bow then.

"In case you change your mind, the guard will take you home instantly –"

"Thank you, but I really am fine."

The Governor gnarled, "So he killed his own cousin! Tah! What a fiend!"

"Neither man nor angel can discern hypocrisy, the only evil that walks invisible," Elizabeth quietly recited from memory.

She received some surprised looks from her father and Lieutenant Groves for this remark, but none looked as startled as the Commodore who actually recognised it for what it was.

She shrugged helplessly. "It's from a book you once read to me. I had to think of it just now..."

He could either stare at her all day or get one with his report. Only the latter option seemed feasible, so he proceeded as calmly as he could, but what was more, as quickly. He managed to avoid another glimpse at Elizabeth, but that didn't mean he wasn't acutely aware of her presence, and with his chest wound suddenly hurting like it never had before, he had to get rid of the girl before giving himself away. He didn't wish to alarm her.

Before the Governor left at last with his bewitching daughter, he invited both the Commodore and Lieutenant Groves to come to his house for supper in the evening. As obliging and kind as the old gentleman's invitation surely was, James shook his head quite firmly.

"Thank you very much for that gracious invitation, sir, but I'm afraid I can impossibly accept," he declared, still avoiding looking at Elizabeth. As much as he had longed to see her again, by no means would he manage to spend an entire evening in her company like this. It was all he could manage not to run away from her now. "I've got a lot to do after the journey and there are many things I have to talk to Lieutenant Groves about. None would suffer any delay."

Groves wondered what on earth the Commodore could be talking about, understanding that there was little truth in the claim – but he wasn't keen on another evening with the Swanns either and refrained from making a remark.

"What about tomorrow, then?" Elizabeth cried.

He shook his head once more. "I am very sorry, Miss Swann, but tomorrow is Christmas."

"Yes, I know!"

"I've got to spend Christmas with my men." It was the feeblest excuse he could have come up with; after all, he had spent Christmas for the last eight years with the Governor and his daughter, so before the girl could remark on the inconsistency, he hastened to add, "This year in particular we have a lot to be thankful for – many comrades to mourn – I couldn't possibly absent myself."

"But then you must come to dine with us the day after tomorrow!"

He was running out of plausible excuses, and two days should suffice to get a grip on himself, shouldn't they? "Yes, thank you very much. The day after tomorrow would be just splendid."

"Fantastic! I'll have your word for that, James – Commodore Norrington, I mean."

Her father gave a little start with her address and gently pushed her out of the office, bidding the officers goodbye. Only when he had shut the door, the Commodore exhaled from the depth of his heart, hearing the Lieutenant softly snigger.

"So what is it that you have to talk to me about that is so terribly urgent and suffers no delay? The Christmas menu?"

He shrugged vaguely. "I don't feel too well, and Miss Swann would make a big thing out of it if I told her, that's all –"

"That girl blows everything out of proportion!"

"My crew and I owe our lives to her insistence; had the Black Pearl not arrived in time, we'd all be dead, Groves. So please, for the last time – leave her alone! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry." He bit his lip and mused for some moments before speaking again. "Sir," he said tentatively, "could I ask you something very personal?"

"Out with it, Groves! Unless you're abusing Miss Swann, I always appreciate your frankness, you know that."

"Am I entirely mistaken to presume that you still harbour some – well, feelings for Miss Swann then...?"

The Commodore sighed and closed his eyes, murmuring at last, "Is it really that obvious? And please spare me your sermon now, will you?"

"Oh no, I wasn't about to – that's good, I guess –"

James shot him a surprised look, and the young man went on hesitantly, "I must make the most awkward confession to you, sir... Erm… You may remember our – uhm – discussion of – of Miss van Dyke – do you?"

He couldn't but laugh. "Oh yes, surely! You want me to marry the lady."

"Do you still have any – intention of proposing to her then?"

"I've never had one to begin with. You wanted me to ask her, have you forgotten?"

"No, not at all. However, I'm very glad to hear that! Excuse me once again to intrude in your private affairs."

James grinned despite himself. "So why did you ask then? What confession is in such a question?"

"Oh, well – you see – I happened to talk to Miss van Dyke lately and – and –"

"And…?"

"She sort of mentioned – how shall I put it – well, it turned out that I had been mistaken concerning her possible attachment to you…"

Groves vowed inwardly to undertake ten night-shifts if he could only get through with this as quickly as possible. But his superior laughed heartily, indeed, he was shaking with laughter now.

"How lucky that I didn't listen to you then, isn't it? Honestly, I don't know how I would have taken another refusal after all."

"Yes, don't listen to me by any rate, sir! I obviously have not the slightest idea about these things. I'm a simple sailor, I lack every talent in deciphering young ladies' conduct…"

"Well, I can only hope you've learnt that lesson. But tell me, I'm curious – how did that – conversation – come about? Did she mention in passing that I was the last man on earth that she considered to marry?"

He thought he had a very clear idea what sort of consultation Groves had had with the fair lady; he had suspected this for some time now, but he had been mistaken, too. The Lieutenant roughly sketched the contents of his last conversation with Miss van Dyke, and James was torn between pity and sheer amusement.

"My dear Groves," he said in the end, "can I ask you something very personal in return? Have you ever contemplated, however swiftly, why on earth you should care so much whom Miss van Dyke is going to marry?"

The officer blushed fiercely. "I was concerned for your well-being after – the disaster –"

"That's nice, thank you very much, but all the same. Are you truly telling me – or yourself for that matter – that you only spent so much time with Miss van Dyke because of me?!"

"Well, yes –"

"And it did not occur to you for a single moment that you could have more feelings for the lady than I? No? Nothing?"

Poor Groves gave the distinct impression that he was ready to sink in any hole in the ground that had the grace to pop up there. "Sir – do not mistake me – I –do have a very high regard for Miss van Dyke, how could I not? I mean, she's an angel, isn't she? But when I first suggested her to you, I hadn't quite realised that yet…"

"My poor, poor Robert! Playing Cupid for a girl you're in love with yourself? That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard!"

Deeply red in the face and staring at his feet, the Lieutenant murmured, "It doesn't really matter, does it?"

"It doesn't matter?"

"Miss van Dyke is a lady, sir!"

"Yes, I've noticed. So?"

"I could impossibly – never – do as much as think of – well – you know..."

"Obviously you cannot speak about it either," James commented drily, shaking his head at the younger man, who was usually so self-assured, so confident.

"But sir," Groves whimpered, "You don't understand! If she doesn't want to marry you, how could I even..."

This remark flattened even the Commodore's wits, and he goggled at him, dumbfounded. "What's the one thing got to do with the other?"

"Sir, look at it! You're the Commodore of the South Eastern Navy, you're famous, you're rich and the son of a peer. If she was ready to refuse you, a man like me could never ask her!"

James took a deep breath before answering, "For a start, Groves – it's a very bad prerequisite to believe that only a woman who would want to marry me could be asked to marry you instead. By no means – listen to me, I'm very serious! – by no means should you choose a wife who would want to marry somebody else but you. Trust me, I have some very painful experiences in this sector! And as we're already speaking of said experience anyway – did you notice that with all my alleged merits and riches, Miss Swann still prefers to accept a poor blacksmith instead? Did you never get the notion that merits and money have nothing to do with it?"

The poor man was speechless; no, he indeed had never given that any thought. Miss Swann was barmy, that was all, otherwise she would have accepted the Commodore!

"But sir," he began anew after a while, "I'm nothing but a farmer's son. I could never be so bold and woe a true lady…"

"Nonsense! You may well be a farmer's son, but now you are the First Lieutenant on one of Great Britain's most famous flagships, and it was only your own powers which have brought you so far! No father's money has bought you commissions, no relations have advanced you anywhere! Talking about merits, are we? You began as a seaman when I first met you, ten years ago! I've never laboured on deck, my father made sure that his son would start as an officer straight away! Comparing your career and mine, you cannot overlook the fact that you've come further than me in less time, and only by your own talents. And if that isn't enough to convince you, let me be so indiscreet and hint that Admiral Thompson is bound to make you a Captain sometime next year, the Falcon will be yours then, and you will make a fortune of your own."

Groves let his shoulders hang in utter dejection. "No matter how rosy you colour me now, she doesn't want me."

James was truly annoyed, he couldn't say himself why. "How can you be so sure of that? You've never asked her, clearly, you don't even seem to have a very good perception of her preferences, or you wouldn't have wanted me to propose to her! Isn't it far more likely that the little lady might have been as irritated as you've described her because she was disappointed?"

"I was as civil as I could be –"

"In case she really liked you, she might have found it no exact civility to understand that during all your visits and consultations and whatever – that you've never had anything else in mind than act the postillion d'amour for somebody else."

The good Lieutenant left not long after this, so thoroughly confused that he hardly knew himself what he was going to do next. His friend was left behind wondering whether he had blessed or cursed the young man – but wasn't it always better to know for certain? If he had never asked Elizabeth, he would always have been forced to live with the lingering suspicions that it might have made a difference.

Neither man nor angel can discern Hypocrisy... Milton