Yup. I know I'm a terrible person for not updating for you lovely, lovely people. To make up for it though, here's another chapter!
After they had finished talking and Groves had calmed himself, he went back down to the brig to check on Emma, as well as retrieve her mug and the tray Norrington left behind. He found her still wrapped in the blanket, and she appeared calmer, too.
He reached her cell to find she had somehow squeezed the mug through, for it sat just outside the cell.
"The door is locked," Emma offered.
Groves nodded in reply before setting it on the tray, which still sat on the barrel Norrington had left it on. Part of him was relieved he wouldn't have to unlock and lock the door again.
He turned back to Emma. "Are you warmer now?"
She pushed away a loose lock of hair and nodded, though she made no effort to remove the blanket. Groves stood there, a bit of relief crossing his face.
The silence was awkward, but Groves didn't feel the need to leave. He didn't want to leave. Nor did he dare mention his offer again. He knew if Emma wanted to reconsider, she would tell him. Yet it didn't soothe the sting of his help being rejected.
She surprised him when she cut through the silence. "Is your hand better?"
He glanced down at it. It felt better since he applied the ointment, but he knew it would be another few days before it completely healed. "Yes, thank you."
Her mouth twitched, and they both fell silent again. Before his emotions could overwhelm him again, Groves forced himself to turn and leave, taking the mug and tray with him.
Emma stopped him. "How long before we reach Port Royal?"
Groves had to take a deep breath to tame the emotions rising in him already. He looked over his shoulder at her, knowing he'd be tempted to stay if he turned any more. "I'm not sure. Hopefully it won't be as long as before."
Emma tried to keep her voice steady as she asked what really troubled her. "Is your Lord Caldwell angry that Jack is gone?"
Despite the curiosity that rose inside him, Groves brushed it aside. Why would Emma wonder how Caldwell fared? "I haven't spoken with him yet, but I am sure he will be disappointed."
"Will he be angry with you?" she tried to ask without much worry lacing her voice.
That made Groves stop again and turn around almost completely. He wasn't sure if he should be suspicious or nonchalant about her inquiries. "I do not see why he would aim his anger at me, though I can understand why any authority would be unhappy should a pirate like Jack escape his grip."
That seemed to calm her a bit more, so Groves forced himself to turn back one last time, knowing where he would go once he returned the mug and tray.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"Thank you for seeing me, Lord Caldwell. I hope I'm not infringing on you."
"No, on the contrary. I'll admit, I was shaken up a bit from the whole ordeal, but a little rest has worked calming wonders on me." And it appeared to be true. Lord Caldwell sat in his chair in his usual stance, with no hint of his distant air from earlier that day visible.
"What is it you needed to speak with me?" Lord Caldwell prompted.
Groves steadied himself. He didn't want to sound too accusatory, because it lowered his chances of Caldwell believing him, but neither could he beat around the bush, for the circumstances were much too high.
"During our battle against the pirates-before we all fell into the caves-your man, Woodrow, attacked me," he began.
Caldwell's guard went up, but tried to hide it from Groves. "Is it possible he mistook you for one of the pirates?"
"But, Sir, he confronted me more than once. Ample time to determine I wasn't one of them." He paused, determining whether it would be best if Emma was left out of this, since she had tried to shove Woodrow out of the way. "Admiral Norrington was a witness. Woodrow even fought him."
Caldwell appeared to ponder over this, and proceeded to stand after a few moments. "My only conclusion is that he was blinded by the heat. I have no doubt you or your comrades have experienced that."
Groves accepted that. The heat coupled with extreme humidity and the weight of their garments could cause anyone to reach their breaking point, but still…
"Were any other commanders witnesses?"
"No, Sir, but the prisoner-"
"The prisoner's word counts for naught in such a matter. This only concerns our officers-there was no harm threatened or inflicted upon her." Caldwell paused a moment to collect himself. "There is nothing further I can do other than to barricade him in my office so that he avoids contact with any of you, should that make you feel safer. I would place him in a cell in the brig, but your prisoner destroyed the other one, so this will have to make do."
Groves wasn't finished yet. Should he voice his suspicion about Woodrow possibly being the one who followed him in Tortuga? It was apparent Caldwell was having difficulty believing the last accusation against Woodrow. How would he react to another?
"But, Sir, I also have-"
"As you were, Commodore!" Caldwell ordered firmly but not rudely.
Groves stood there, dumbfounded. He felt childish for being interrupted and ignored at this point, but he didn't dare defy any more orders. Perhaps he was wrong in his other suspicion of Woodrow-or he should wait a while for Caldwell to cool down.
Reluctantly, Groves dipped his head, quietly gave his yes sir, and left the office.