I loved writing this chapter! I feel like Elizabeth and Fiona are two people who've needed to talk for a long time! I hope the conversation between them is something you all enjoy reading because I think it's just right. There's also another conversation between James and Fiona here that moves them along further in terms of growing closer even though neither of them seem to realise it!

Thank you so much for the reviews! To the guests, Smithy and Beeeech, there is much more to see from Elizabeth and from James and his decisions on how to handle all that's going on! I loved your comments on all of it! I hope Elizabeth seems true to character! I know the romance has been a bit slow but I think that's more true to James's character. We will get an insight into his thoughts over the course of the next few chapters that may reveal a few feelings here and there! We will have some romance soon!

Chapter Thirty Nine - Elizabeth Turner

I didn't like the room. Perhaps it reminded me overly so of the room I had inhabited in my uncle's home in London. Perhaps it was just too grand for the likes of me. The pale blue wallpaper was littered with pretty golden birds and tree branches in a pattern that repeated itself around the room. A large window looked out towards the sea, with the town of Port Royal nestled before it. The bed was the biggest one I'd ever seen. Not even my uncle had owned one that big. Little pieces of furniture littered the space around it, the clutter clearly the pride and joy of someone who'd had much time to spare. I knew instantly that a lot of the other rooms in the house would be much the same. Elizabeth. She was clearly bored and creative all at the same time.

I didn't envy her the life she led at the top of the hill, in the house that separated her from the rest of the world. No matter how pleasing on the eye she was, or how many pretty dresses she owned, she was still the governor's daughter. Any friendships she might make had the potential to be as fake as whatever it was that her maid had stuffed onto her head to ensure that her hairstyle did not deflate throughout the day. Perhaps I had more of an understanding of her from the house she lived in. Maybe that's why I didn't like the room. I didn't want to like or understand Elizabeth. I knew how much hurt and pain she had caused James when she had chosen to marry Will, but I had to appreciate that she had thought only of her own happiness. In doing so she had likely saved James from a life of torment. Married to him, Elizabeth would have been too fine to have adventures, too closed off to truly be the outspoken woman that she always had been. She'd have been caged. There was much expected of her because of her upbringing. In some ways the best thing for her to do was to marry someone beneath her. Society might shun her, but I got the impression that she'd find that rather funny. She had no care for society balls and titles any more. She had seen the world. She had seen adventure and she liked it. She was not the wife of a commodore or an admiral, not now she had seen her own heart.

I stood on the threshold of the room for quite some time. It felt as if I was somehow betraying my own beliefs in letting myself be a guest in such a house. In the end Mary had to beckon me forwards to sit precariously on the bed. It was quite high and I had to jump a little to reach it. There was something about myself that felt very unclean then. Everything in the room was perfect except me. Even Mary's own modest dress and hair cap were pristine, starched and neatly pleated with great care. I on the other hand looked like I'd not even fetch employment as a kitchen maid in such a house.

"Is there nothing a bit simpler than this?" I asked Mary, even though I knew what her answer would be. Elizabeth had chosen that room after all. Mary would not want to deviate from her mistress's instructions. "It's a very grand room for little old me."

Mary smiled warmly as if she understood my sentiment exactly. "The other rooms are all closed up Miss. This is one of the nicest rooms in the house. Why not enjoy the splendour of it all?"

"I'm not much for splendour," I replied softly. "I don't know you Mary but I dare say I had an upbringing not much different to yours. I'm a country girl. I grew up in a little village. There's no need to be calling me Miss or anything like that. Fiona will do just fine."

Mary nodded slowly. "I've lived in Port Royal all my life Miss. My mother is a seamstress and my father is a porter. He moves what needs moving for anyone who needs the help. We've had a good life here. Mistress Turner and Governor Swann are very kind. I couldn't have hoped for a better position on the island. Begging your pardon Miss, but you're a guest in this house. To me it's only right to afford you the respect you are due. You are a friend of commodore Norrington's after all. I'd not feel I was doing my job if I was addressing you so informally. I will say that I appreciate you saying so though Miss."

I nodded my understanding, feeling even more inadequate in my determination to dislike Elizabeth. Was it to be that way? Was I to come into contact with not a single person who had a bad word to say about her? She'd certainly shown herself to be a woman of her own mind with a fuse that could be easily sparked; yet everyone seemed to have nothing but praise for her. It almost made my skin crawl. I buried myself a little more in James's coat, pulling it tighter around myself as if that might make me disappear under the kind gaze of Mary. I suppose James's kindness had been more welcome to me as it had been a gradual thing. I wasn't much used to meeting new people who were unreservedly courteous instantly. Most people had hidden agendas and I'd spent the last six years growing warier of strangers. It was a lesson I suppose, that I shouldn't be judging people so readily. I perhaps trusted those I knew far too much when they did not deserve it, when in fact strangers I'd only just met had better intentions towards me.

"How about a nice bath to warm you up Miss?"

I'd not realised Mary was watching me. I let the coat fall loose again reluctantly. "I'm fine, honestly. I'm just not comfortable in a house like this. That really is too much trouble to go to for me."

"It's no trouble at all," Mary called over her shoulder as she moved to the bell pull at the side of the room and tugged on it. "Mrs Turner has a bath brought up for her each evening so it's routine. Mrs Turner can do without this evening. She'll understand. I'll have the water brought up."

Mary bustled out before I could argue her down. In truth I could not argue the fact that the thoughts of a hot bath had me flexing my bad knee in anticipation of such a treat. I'd always kept myself clean with the use of water when aboard a ship, but it had often been a hurried affair; sloshing tepid water over myself from a bowl as quickly as I could so that I could dress again. I'd not thought of freshening up as a relaxing pastime since I'd left Ireland. Back then the cast iron tub had been set before the fire in the parlour of our small house and I'd scrubbed my skin until it was pink whilst my mother untangled the knots of my wild hair. Was that something Elizabeth found comforting then? I knew that her mother was no longer alive so I did wonder then if having maids made her feel cared for as a child does by it's mother. In London when I had stayed with my uncle I think I'd have been afforded such luxuries if I'd wanted them. I'd not been foolish enough to risk a long lounge in a bath no matter how many maids I had around me for fear that my uncle would come barrelling into the room.

I heard the floorboards creaking then along the hallway and I readied myself, knowing that it was too soon for Mary to have returned. I sat up straighter but kept my hands at my side. I knew there was not enough time in the world to fix the mess that was my hair before sure enough, Elizabeth gently pushed the door open and glided into the room. Her serene expression was at odds with what I was sure was a war of confusion going on within her mind. She likely did not know how to take me at all, or how to talk to me.

"Mary says she has gone to fetch water so that you might have a bath," she simpered as she closed the door. When she turned back to the room I noticed the bundle in her arms. She moved closer, setting them on the bed beside me. "I know you will likely prefer your own clothing but I thought I would gather some things together for you to make use of should you have need of them. I would recommend the dress if you wish to roam the house. You are of course free to do so, but in case of unwanted visitors I think it only right that you are dressed accordingly. My father will also appreciate it. Whilst I am not adverse to peculiar styles of clothing, he is still rather reluctant to accept more informal wear. I have been at sea with pirates though, so one tends to care less about such things. Not that there is anything outwardly wrong with what you wear at present, it's just that your ankles are visible Fiona. That will scandalise an old purist like my father." She chuckled lightly then as she reached forward on impulse it seemed and gently twirled a lock of my hair around one of her fingers before the curl sprang free again. I was still marvelling over that and the fact that she'd called me by my first name after only one prompt to do so when she spoke again. "What a wondrous colour your hair is. You are strong then, for I expect you've had many a price offered to you for your curls. From what I am told, it is rather difficult to shake those kind of charlatans off."

"The trick is not to let them get too close, and then you don't have to," I attempted at humour.

Elizabeth appeared to rethink her close proximity to me and moved back towards the doorway. "It is a wonder that you appear to have befriended James. I mean no offence by that statement of course, Fiona. It is just that you are rather headstrong. I cannot imagine he will have been much amused by that. He does like everything just so. I imagine you cannot have had a pleasurable stay aboard his ship. He rules it with an iron fist."

"There were a few teething problems in the beginning," I countered. "On the whole though I think we came to understand each other well."

"It should not have been allowed to happen of course. James should have brought you here to us. He did not treat you fairly at all. By that I mean to say that Will has told me everything. You were sailing aboard a merchant ship before your friends perished. You were a free being. James should not have backed you into a corner like that."

I was shaking my head. "I was sailing with pirates when he found me. I had a choice and I chose Jack Sparrow. Actually I think the commodore was kind in his decision not to lock me in the brig with Sparrow and his crew. I think when all is considered he did the right thing."

It was Elizabeth's turn to shake her head. "You're agreeing with him for the sake of it. I can see in your eyes that you aren't quite the push over that James might be used to." Her continued use of his christian name in some sort of hint at over-familiarity was starting to rankle me. Whether she intended its use as some form of territorial indication or not, I'm not sure. I'm now inclined to think she did not know at all that she was bothering me; at least not in the way that I thought. Perhaps she had grown wise to the longing looks he threw her way every time he was in her presence. Had she been able to tell that I thought a great deal of him? Had she seen in me the same longing that he held? I sometimes think that was why she was so keen to talk about him, to make me squirm or to make me reveal my feelings. "Please do not tell me that when he offered you his terms that you were in agreement. There's more to you than that, I think. The grief you still harbour so long after the deaths of your friends is more than enough to keep you fighting."

As if her over-use of James's christian name wasn't enough, she was also assuming that she knew me. What she said was right of course but I wasn't about to let her believe that. She had no right really to attempt to delve into my thoughts. They were my own to mire in. I decided to turn the tables. "We came to an arrangement of sorts. As I said, we came to understand one another. I am not the only one with a heart in the throws of grief. The commodore too has had much to contend with. It was one of the first things I came to really know about him, that he had such a sadness about him and he had no way to harness it. It's curious really, that he is so hell bent on ridding the seas of pirates when he too maintains this strange sort of resilience, determination and drive to seek out that which does not even exist. For someone so against pirates, he has quite the appetite for treasure."

Elizabeth smiled then softly. "Yes, I think you've got the measure of him quite well. At any rate he appears to have much respect for you. He's asked that you be permitted to stay with myself and my father and you must stay for as long as you wish." I was very aware that Elizabeth was sure to avoid mentioning my carefully placed words about James's grief. Surely she had to know how much pain she had caused the man. I was sure that she knew, and that was when I realised she was hurting too. She had not meant to draw him in. She had not encouraged his feelings. She had liked him well enough as he was a decent man, but not enough to think of him as more than an acquaintance. She'd likely regretted having to break his heart. It seemed all that I had forced myself to think of her had been right, then. There was goodness within her despite it all. I didn't want to like her or think fondly of her, but I was beginning to see that was because of my feelings for James. If I had not thought of him in the way that I did; if I had not esteemed him so much then I might have been predisposed to like her, to make more of an effort to befriend her.

"I'll stay as long as it takes to find a ship that's sailing in the direction of home if that's alright. I'm sure it'll only be a few days at most. This is a British port after all so I'm sure I could snag passage on a ship bound for England within a day or two. I could make my own way home to Ireland from there. I'm grateful for your kind offer but I don't want to impose. I'm still not sure why the commodore even brought me here. I'm not exactly the kind of house guest you're used to."

"When I said that Will told me everything, I meant it. I know what happened aboard The King's Inquisitor and I also know who you are. I know about your uncle. I understand why you might feel uncomfortable in a home like this. You have been through a terrible ordeal and although I think that some comfort and rest might be good for you, ultimately I understand that we are strangers to one another. Staying somewhere not dissimilar to the home your uncle has in London may not be comfortable at all to you. Whatever you might have a need of, you must inform myself or Mary. We will endeavour to aid you in any way we can. James was right to bring you here. If you do not already know, then I must tell you that I have been under house arrest these many months. It has been stifling but the one mitigating factor is that I have not come into contact again with Lord Cutler Beckett who is attempting to usurp the navy's control of the whole island. Now that James is returned things may improve, but he will have a fight on his hands. It would not have been safe to house you elsewhere. This way, James may visit this house as he often does when he is ashore and speak with you without raising any suspicion. I appreciate that you wish to return home Fiona. If I were in your shoes I think I might feel the same way. Allow James to aid you in that respect once things here have been resolved. I believe he feels responsible for you in a way. He will view you now as he does a member of his crew and please do not misinterpret that. You've sailed with him for so long that he will think of you as one of his own. James cares greatly for his crew. After that hurricane I think he has become cautious that he does not risk the lives of those who serve him. He will want to ensure that you return home safely. You should let him, if you care as much for his principles as he does. He likes to see things through, does James. To not be able to do so would likely make him feel inadequate and slighted. Like all well bred men, he is proud. He sees you as his charge."

"I'm not meaning to cause him offence but I'm my own charge. I can look after myself Mrs. Turner. I don't mean him any disrespect. I like him very much and respect his thought process and his morals and all that, but I like being in control of my life and I don't like being in anyone's way. He's an ambitious man. Helping me should be on the very bottom of his list of priorities. Helping me is just trouble for someone like him. Surely you can understand all of that, as someone who has been brought up a certain way. You were wrong about one thing though, it's not just well bred men who have pride. Poor folk are proud too, perhaps even more so despite the fact that they have less to loose."

Elizabeth moved forwards then and sat alongside me on the bed. Her shoulders slumped slightly and I was intrigued by the movement because with such a tight corset and small waist I did not think she'd have been capable of it. "I understand what you say Fiona, really I do. In another world I would have been married to a man like James and I would have been happy with such a lot, having never considered that another life might be for me. We do not know how our lives may be changed with just one meeting. I was bred to marry well and produce children. My father loves me very much and he would never force me to marry someone who I despised. James is a good man, and that is why my father was keen for us to marry. It was a good match on paper and I dare say James would make quite the husband. I may have come to love him as a close friend over the years of a marriage. Fate is a curious thing. I did not have a bleak future ahead of me and yet it showed me something that gave me hope for more promise in my life. I think you and I share the same desire for adventure. I saw all of my prayers strangely answered in Will who I came to love very quickly. Sometimes things like that happen in such a flash, and sometimes they are more gradual. However long they take, they are not something that can be planned for or avoided. I am not advising you to just lay out your feelings for all to see, Fiona. Heavens no, I think James might be a bit overwhelmed by that. Whatever there might be between you both even if it is just friendship, it seems to be something that is taking it's time in making itself known. Let it. Do not be afraid of it. Do not be afraid to tell James that you appreciate his friendship if nothing more. I sense in you a desire to return home but above all else I think you fear to be parted from James now. If for nothing else than the fact that you trust him and feel safe with him, that is instinctual. It is something that cannot be ignored. James is a proud man, we are both right about that of course, but he is also kind and truthful. He will not wish to cause you undue pain. If you do one day tell him the truth and he does not share your feelings, he will be honest with you in a way as to spare you harm as little as possible. I do not think that shall be the case though. I think I sense between you both that understanding you spoke of. He will do right by you. He is honourable."

I shook my head again. "Respectfully Mrs, Turner-"

"Elizabeth, you must call me Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth," I began again. "I'm not sure I know what it is you're talking about. Whatever you think there is between myself and James, it's nothing. I trust him, and I suppose he's saved my life enough times now that I cannot call him anything other than a friend but I'm sure he'd die of shame if he heard this conversation or if you ever spoke of any of this to him. Please don't do that. I'll go back to Ireland, where I belong and he'll be free of all the trouble I've caused him. That's how things should be. That's what's right."

Perhaps I spoke with a note of finality for Elizabeth seemed for the time being to accept my answer. She nodded her agreement and got up from the bed. She wandered towards the door again and only turned to glance back at me when she was stood in the doorway. "We shall talk again once you are better rested Fiona. I am sure your mind is rather devastated right now. You need some time to regroup your thoughts and to rest your tired bones. Mary shall be up with the bath water soon. Then you must sleep."

With that she was gone and it strikes me now that I might not have thanked her as well as I could have done. I was not being rude though or dodging such tidings as a result of my forced dislike of her. She was right in that my mind was in turmoil. I no more thought to thank her than I understood what on earth was going on, or what was to become of me next. There was more noise from outside, footsteps strolling along the wooden floor but I knew that it was not Mary the housemaid. No, these footsteps were determined and sure. Elizabeth had left the door open so I was able to glimpse the flash of blue as his coat whispered by the door.

"She's very beautiful; your Mrs. Turner!"

I smiled a little to myself as I watched him turn on his heel, the tails of his coat lifting slightly with the movement as he placed his feet carefully just beyond the boundary of the doorway. He believed he should be invited in to such a room before he entered it. I decided I would not do so to see if I could entice him to move closer anyway.

He was scowling as he very often was when I finally turned my gaze towards his. "As we have clarified, Elizabeth is not my Mrs. Turner. Far from it. We are here in the home she shares with her father and her husband. I would have thought that..."

He'd been about to admonish me for having a lack of respect but he trailed off as I grinned at him. He shook his head slightly and I think he did so because he was trying not to match my smile with one of his own. "When are you going to realise I never mean anything that I say?" I asked jovially. "To be sure, I think I must have told you to take anything I say with a pinch of salt. We like a tale, us Irish."

"On the Contrary Miss O'Connell, I think it is rather the opposite. I think you almost always only ever say exactly and entirely what you mean. I believe I have told you before that I find it quite refreshing and an admirable trait. It is something you should endeavour to preserve but you should also have a care with it. There are those who will not welcome it as I do."

For a second or two I did not know how to reply but at length I turned the conversation back to my starting point. "She is beautiful though. That I meant. Just for a second I thought I understood your love for her, but then she opened her mouth and spoke. In essence she is everything that I did not expect. She has a sharp tongue and she knows her own mind. I had not thought that a woman like that might have appealed to a man like you, commodore."

"A man like me?" he questioned even as he turned and glanced up the hallway. It irritated me that I could not see what he was looking at, but I could fairly guess. It was likely the tail end of Elizabeth's skirts whispering around a corner at the end of the hallway. He turned back slowly but I could tell his concentration was held elsewhere. "Miss O'Connell, I do believe you have the pleasure of confusing me yet again, for although you spoke succinctly and with ready words, I have not a notion of what you might mean."

I laughed and said nothing else, expecting him to smile politely and leave, but he finally placed a foot inside the room. He stopped just inside the doorway and took in the decor for a second or two before he finally met my eyes again. I knew he was going to wait for however long it took because he wanted to hear me say something. Whether he wanted to really hear some explanation or he just wanted to laugh at me, I wasn't sure. I decided I preferred the latter because my energy was depleting. I didn't have the gumption to really give him the explanation he deserved.

"Dress a goat in silk and he still remains a goat." I knew I'd stumped him. I laughed lightly at the old saying I'd heard many an Irish housewife mutter in my childhood. My own mother had said the very thing when my father had stood up for one of our neighbours who'd been thrown out of our village for his cheating and trickery. His wife had been fool enough to take him back into her home for a time, but my mother knew that for all of his new airs and graces and promises of being a new man, he'd be back to his old ways soon enough. No time spent abroad or new clothes could take away his mischievous mind. He certainly hadn't fooled her. I had thought James might get it after a moment or two, but when his perplexed expression held I sighed heavily. "All I mean is that Mrs. Turner might look every inch the lady she was brought up to be but she's always going to have that sharp mind and tongue. No one's going to go changing it by putting some silk dress around her. Think on that. She would not have done well as your wife. You need someone with her determination surely but someone who knows when to remain quiet. I think I can presume to say I understand that Mrs. Turner would find that excessively hard to do because I would also. I am not one to curb my mouth for anyone. I daresay neither is she. I don't know if that will help you come to terms with all that has passed, but you should think on it, commodore. If you do make admiral you will need to set your sights higher. You can't have a wife who interrupts you every five minutes to add her penny's worth to the conversation."

His eyes changed then and I can't describe how except to say that somehow they grew darker in hue. I was transfixed by the change. It was almost like watching the sun go down behind a hill in Ireland and the shadows enveloping the luscious green fields as night set in. "It might be a well established assumption that a well bred and meek woman is what I need Miss O'Connell, but no one ever considers what I might want in a wife. The world is so keen to tell me of both, and no one ever considers that I might indeed want differently than I need. Alas it is my station that affords me such a juxtaposition. Were it not for my naval commission my wants and needs would perhaps be the self same thing, and do you know; they would not matter at all to anyone. How I envy you that way of life Miss O'Connell, and feel glad for you at the same time. You will never face such scrutiny, have your hopes and desires mocked and ridiculed, have your passions torn from you because they are simply unsuitable. I think perhaps you are the most free person I've ever met in all my life. You do and say as you please whilst still maintaining a level of respect and decorum. You are quite the salve to many wounds I should think. Do you never wonder what you might have become if you had stayed in Ireland? I see you in my minds eye outside a pretty cottage with a burly husband to laugh at all of your confounding phrases and to comment on the remarkable colour of your hair. I see children, so many of them and all with your colouring. They are scampering over the fields and in and out of trees with reckless abandon as you do aboard a ship. You are happy and content, without a worry. I fear that men like myself and your uncle have stripped those dreams from you entirely."

It was my turn to be entirely confused. "Now Commodore it is I who doesn't understand you; apart from to say that you automatically assume I should want that country life, but I never once intimated that I wanted anything of the sort. I am not the only one who judges. We all do. You cannot blame others for wishing you well and divining a prosperous path for you in their heads. It seems you hold a lot of respect here in Port Royal. The people want you to do well, to marry well because they believe you deserve happiness. Your men do and so do I. It is only you that believes it to be a falsehood. You can forgive yourself for what happened whenever you like, or never if it pleases you to think all those men at the bottom of the sea want you to be miserable for the rest of your life. They were your men, and you chose them because they were good sailors, good men. I don't think they would harbour such hate even in death. It is you who holds the hate and not as you might think. You want the world to know you hate pirates, want to see the death of them but don't you hate yourself all the more than you do Jack Sparrow? If you did not hate yourself you would have given in and let yourself have the happiness you deserve. Then perhaps you would have an understanding of why pirates exist. The world cannot force the poor to starve in slavery and taxation and then take offence when they steal to feed their children. People are left on the streets without education to better themselves or manners to get by on. They are taught to steal from infancy to get by because there is no other choice for their parents or guardians. The world makes thieves and then punishes them. People can either choose to die on the streets or turn to crime. It's a difficult choice indeed."

Maiming or murdering though," James replied softly as if he could sense my anger. "Is that necessary? You yourself have told me Miss O'Connell that you have been in dire situations yourself, but you would not have harmed anyone without good cause. I am sure of it. When your uncle and Townshend attacked you, you acted in self defence. You did your uncle little harm as I can attest to his full health myself. I think you do not give your class enough credit."

"Or maybe you just don't know me well enough Commodore. Perhaps I'm not what you think."

I don't think either of us knew in that moment what had come over me. I was bone weary and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to fall back into the soft mattress and sleep for eternity. We were saved from any further discussion by the definitive sound of a bath tub being dragged along outside the room. James retreated to the door again and nodded at me once. "I shall return upon the morrow Miss O'Connell and I expect to see you well rested."

With that he was gone, likely I thought to trial Elizabeth's skirt tails.

In the next chapter we will meet governor Swann as James tries to figure out what to do next!