Disclaimer: Mostly Disney's, except for the original characters.
Harry and the Pirate: Norrington's Choice
VIII. After the Ball
After the ball is over, after the break of morn,
After the dancers' leaving, after the stars are gone:
Many a heart is aching, if you could read them all;
Many the hopes that have vanished, after the ball.
- - - - - - - - - - -
"Well, that didn't go as planned," observed Jack, as he closed the bedroom door.
It was very late. So late it was early, actually. Alphonse and Estrella had been told not to wait up. Harry stopped, wearily, in the middle of the room, a slight frown on her face at Jack's articulation of her thought.
"No," she agreed. "They were most uncooperative, were they not?" She heard his footsteps behind her and turned to face him, but his fingers fluttered, motioning her around again. Her expression lightened as she felt the fingers at her back, deftly undoing the laces of the elegant dress. "I wonder what can have happened?" she mused. "I shall have to question Maggie in the morning. Discretely, of course."
"Maybe the Commodore will be moved to confide in me," Jack said, his tone indicating his doubt of the possibility of such an occurrence. "I'm to go to him at Fort Charles by noon to bring 'im the tithe the Pearl owes the crown."
She nodded. "I cannot think it likely. His reserve would preclude such a display of feeling I think, for it is obviously something quite serious in nature. Still, I find it encouraging that there is such strong feeling between them. I've no doubt it can be turned to good purpose. This is only a very small setback."
He chuckled. "Ever the optimist, ain't you?"
"Not at all! I am a realist. I have found that one's goals are usually attainable if one will only demonstrate a little perseverance and fortitude."
"So they'll be dragged together, willy-nilly, eh?"
She chuckled now. "I told you I'd quite decided on it, did I not?" After another moment she sighed, happily, as he pushed the dress from her shoulders. "Oh! It feels so good to get this off!" She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and the dress fell and pooled around her ankles, leaving her clad only in her black pearls.
"You're naked!" he exclaimed, laughing. "Where's your chemise?"
She turned around and began to unbutton his waistcoat, saying, "It was too hot to wear a chemise. I've been suffering from the heat more lately. I think it's the baby."
"Mmm. Naughty Young Sparrow." Unable to resist, his hands moved over her, feather light, while she worked. "You might have told me!" he complained. "Would've made the evening that much more interesting."
"You didn't seem to be having a dull time. If I had told you, you would have been hovering about, and I wanted you to mingle with the guests!"
"You're likely right."
When she'd finished, he shrugged off his coat and waistcoat, and while he did so, she stepped out of her dress, picked it up and walked over to lay it neatly on the chaise longue, along with her beautiful string of pearls. He followed, the coat and waistcoat joining the dress and pearls, as did the rest of his clothing, piece by piece. Harry climbed into bed, and watched him from the comfort of the cool sheets. She smiled, happily, eyes bright with lascivious appreciation, when he came to her.
He blew out the branch of candles and got into bed himself, laughing again as she reached for him. "You wanton! It's near dawn!" But he kissed her.
After a little, she said softly, "This is the happiness I want for Maggie and James."
"You're a generous woman, Mrs. Sparrow," her husband murmured against her ear, "but I think we've had enough of Maggie and James for tonight. Now it's time for Harry and Jack. Savvy?"
-------------------------
In spite of having finally gone to sleep only as the first faint light of the new day was peeking through the slight gap in the drapes, Jack was up and dressed and ready to go out by eleven. Owens and Charles were to go with him.
"Still feels a bit odd, walkin' into that fort," Jack confided to Gibbs, whom he'd met in the foyer of the great house. "The whelps'll give all those lobsterbacks something to look at besides me fair self."
"'Odd'!" exclaimed Gibbs, "I'd think so, considerin' they came within a hair's breadth o' hangin' ye not so long since!"
"Aye. Or a sword's breadth, as it were. Don't s'pose you'd want to go?"
"I'd like nothin' better in life than to visit Fort Charles with ye," Gibbs said facetiously, "only I've a previous engagement." He nodded at the stairway, which all five children were now seen (and heard!) to be descending, followed by Nurse Maria, who was clad in a simple, summery gown, the material of which was dotted in a pattern of pink roses. Gibbs told Jack, "We're walkin' the little girls down to the beach, to take the air an' a bite o' the luncheon Anatole's made for us."
Jack grinned at this, and turned to the Nurse, whom he had never seen in any but the plainest, most professional of gowns. He said, with a sly smile, "Good morrow, ma'am. May I say that's an unusually pretty frock!"
Charles Holliday grinned, and said in a loud whisper, "Maria's got a beau!"
The Nurse, coloring, cleared her throat pointedly and glared a little at the Hope of the Family. She said coolly, "Thank you, Captain. I try always to present a neat appearance."
"Oh, ye do, of course!" Jack agreed, eyelids drooping, "But you'll forgive me if I say the roses on that dress are a lovely match for those in yer cheeks."
Maria nearly gasped at this, and colored even more hotly, and Gibbs rolled his eyes.
"All right, Jack, yer as bad as this young heathen. Leave off puttin' the lady to the blush. It ain't well done of ye, and ye know it."
Jack put a contrite expression on his face, and his hands together as he bowed slightly. "Apologies!" he said to Maria, who merely sniffed. Suppressing a smile, Jack turned to the boys. "Ready to visit the fort, lads?"
"Aye!" they both exclaimed together, eagerly.
"Will they be wearing their uniforms?" Charles asked.
"Oh, aye. Not a doubt of it," said Jack, directing a grimace to Gibbs. "Let's go."
Governor Swann had acquiesced to the use of his carriage on this occasion, and the three piled in. They drove first down to the docks, where Jack's heart swelled at the sight of his beautiful ship. The Black Pearl fairly glowed, for Jack had kept his men busy cleaning and painting while they were tied by the heels in Port Royal. The citizenry of the town were beginning to trust his crew, and there were a few select establishments near the waterfront that the men frequented during their off hours, but the Captain felt that the relationship, if it was to be a lasting one, must be built slowly, a step at a time. Now that the ball was over, however, they would be taking the great ship out again.
"Will we be goin' 'round to Ocho Rios soon, Captain?" asked O'Brien. "A fortnight's a long time to spend powdering and primping even this fine lady!"
"We'll be leavin' in two or three days. Will Turner's going, too, an' maybe me brother-in-law, if I can talk him into it."
"The Governor!"
"Aye. It'll give him a chance to relax after the exigencies of the ball. And Harry's to stay here with Lady Margaret and Mrs. Turner. She and the Governor will both like havin' a bit of a holiday from each other. You have that chest of gold ready for me?"
It was ready, and presently Jack and "the whelps" were on their way again, to Fort Charles.
"Named for me!" laughed Charles Holliday.
Jack laughed too. "Well, you're a Merry Monarch, but only in your mother's eyes, lad!"
Some time later, Jack, firmly suppressing thoughts of his near-hanging, found that his plan had worked perfectly: the marines on duty at the fort had eyes and smiles mostly for his two young companions, although the youngsters' presence apparently caused the redcoats to view himself in a more kindly light as well. The boys looked around, very impressed and interested in everything, although Owens, having heard about Jack's close shave, was much warier than Charles, who considered the expedition an unadulterated delight. And when they were ushered into the Commodore's office, followed by two marines carrying the chest of gold, Charles's eyes were like saucers at the sight of the tall, handsome officer.
Norrington, for his part, dismissed the marines, and greeted his guests with a slight bow. Jack noticed the Commodore was polite enough to himself and Owens, but that his eyes lingered on the fair-haired son of his old friend. If 'friend' was the right word…
"You are the son of Lady Margaret Holliday, are you not?" said the Commodore, his face calm, but his eyes reflecting some inner turmoil that hinted of both pain and longing. Jack's brows quirked in curiosity.
"Yes, sir," said Charles. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir! Do you know my mother, then?"
"Yes. I know her. We are…we have known each other since we were not much older than you are now. But it has been a very long time, since last we met."
Jack said, carefully, "Harry wanted to surprise you—thought you'd be pleased to see the lady."
Norrington looked at Jack, and only the slightest hint of a frown touched his lips. But there was no derision in the pirate's eyes, and Norrington nodded. "I was pleased. And surprised." He straightened, clearing his throat. "You've brought the tithe I see."
"Aye," said Jack, reaching into an inner coat pocket for a sheaf of papers. "I've receipts and such, if you'd like to go over 'em?"
While they conducted their business, Owens and Charles looked around the office. It was sparsely decorated, but there were a few paintings, mostly of ships and the sea, a case of books, which included classics as well as volumes on various aspects of warfare and military life, and there were some beautiful weapons laying about, including the Commodore's prized Turner sword. Charles looked it over, closely, where it lay in its scabbard, and ran a finger lightly over the gold filigree on the hilt.
"Like the sword?"
Charles straightened with a start, and turned to the Commodore, who was watching him from where he stood behind his desk. "Yes, sir! It's beautiful!"
After a slight hesitation, Norrington said to Jack, "Excuse me a moment, Captain?"
Jack nodded, smiling a little.
The Commodore went over to where the two boys stood, picked up the sword and drew it from its scabbard, and was quite satisfied at their awed gasps and round eyes. "It was made by the Governor's son-in-law, William Turner," he told them. "I've rarely seen a finer blade in my life."
"Will made that?" Owens asked Jack. He had been told that Will was a blacksmith, and a maker of fine swords, but the reality of it had not been born in upon him until now.
"Aye," said Jack, with a grin. "That and a cartload more. Came near to skewerin' me with a couple of 'em, first time we met!"
Norrington nodded. "He's a fine swordsman. I've practiced with him a time or two in the last year."
"Not as fine as Captain Sparrow!" said Owens, stoutly.
Jack laughed. "Well, I can hold my own against him, but whether I can beat him in a fair fight is a matter of considerable debate. Now, an unfair fight, on the other hand…!"
"An unfair fight!" said Charles, a little shocked. "You mean, ignore the Rules of Engagement?"
Jack grinned, and shrugged. "Pirate!"
The Commodore laughed then, amused at both Jack's pretense of an apologetic excuse, and at Charles's look of outrage. He said, "There are times, Master Holliday, when one must set aside the Rules of Engagement if one wishes to live to see another day."
"Oh." Charles looked a little confused and chagrinned.
"Captain Sparrow has been teaching us," said Owens, his eyes bright with thanks and pride as he looked at Jack.
"Has he, indeed?" said the Commodore. "I have not yet seen him fight with a sword, but I understand from Mr. Turner that he is very skilled. You are fortunate to have him for your mentor."
"Sir!" exclaimed Charles, suddenly struck with what he considered to be a brilliant notion. "Why don't you come for dinner tonight and bring your sword and we can watch you fight with Captain Sparrow! Practice, I mean. And Mr. Turner, too!"
The Commodore didn't reply for a moment, and Jack was sure that his mouth would have been agape had he been a lesser man. As it was, a startled look came into his eyes, and was barely controlled as he turned his gaze to Jack. Jack, who had been counted his enemy not so long since. Jack, who was presently residing in the same house with Lady Margaret, with whom the Commodore had had some sort of difficult experience in the past.
But Jack said, easily, "That's not a bad notion, Commodore! It would be a rare privilege. And you missed supper last night. Anatole, me cook, really extended himself: everyone was remarkin' on it. He's doin' the honors again tonight, so you'd best come. Best victuals this side o' Heaven, give ye me word!"
The Commodore almost smiled. "Do you think they have victuals in Heaven?" he mused.
"Well, if they don't I ain't goin'!" said Jack. "Not that I want to end up in the other place, mind you: too many old acquaintances there, like as not. P'raps I'll turn papist—they've purgatory to fall back on." The Commodore was actually chuckling at this, and Jack grinned.
Charles begged, "Oh, do say you'll come, sir!"
After another moment's hesitation, the Commodore replied, "How can I refuse in the face of such kind entreaties?"
"And you'll bring your sword?" Charles said eagerly.
The Commodore said, "I'm not sure fencing practice would be a suitable prelude to dinner."
"'Course it would!" Jack exclaimed. "Just bring an extra shirt. Will an' I'll put you through your paces, an' then we can all change for dinner."
A slow, genuine smile lit Norrington's face. "All right. I'll ride over when I'm off duty, later this afternoon."
"Excellent!" Jack smiled too, but somehow he got the feeling that this was something unusual for the Commodore. That he had few, if any, close friends. And that he was lonely.
A little while later, when business had been concluded and they were about to take their leave, Charles startled Jack by saying to the Commodore, "Please sir, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, could you take us on a tour of the fort before we go?" Seeing the Commodore glance at Jack, and his slight frown upon doing so, the boy added, "If you don't have time, I'll quite understand, but it would be jolly if you could!"
But Norrington's frown had been in consideration of Jack's sensibilities. Jack was rather disturbed that he had been so easy for the man to read, but indeed he had no desire to linger at the fort: he already had an uncomfortably intimate acquaintance with it. Norrington said to Charles, thoughtfully, "I expect Captain Sparrow has other business this afternoon, but how would it be if you were to stay with me. And Master Owens, too, if he likes. I can show you 'round the fort, and then bring you with me to the Governor's house later, in time for dinner."
Owens politely declined the treat, but Charles was ecstatic. Jack said to Norrington, "You'll keep a sharp eye on 'im, Commodore? He's a right one, but he likes to kick up a lark now an' again. I could tell you some tales, and I've only known 'im a short time."
Charles looked a little conscious at this, but Norrington lifted a brow and murmured, "Pots versus kettles, Captain?", then permitted himself a slight smirk as Jack stiffened almost imperceptibly. But the Commodore continued smoothly, "You've no need to worry. I know how to deal with young men who've more nerve than sense."
Jack nodded and gave a reluctant grin. "I suppose ye do at that." He winked at Charles, but wisely forbore to say anything further on the subject before taking his leave with Owens.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Harry had stirred enough to return the kiss Jack had given her before he'd gone downstairs that morning but had fallen back asleep almost immediately. When she did finally waken again it was near noon. She did not rise, but lay, languidly studying the beautiful pattern of the tapestry cloth that made up the canopy over the bed, and enjoying the luxury of doing nothing for a change. She would not admit it to Jack, of course, but the last two weeks had been a little tiring, and she was quite looking forward to resting here at her brother's house for another week while the men went on their little sail 'round the island to visit Eustace Greene's plantation and distillery. Jack had refused to go overland: he was a good rider, but did not enjoy it much as he did it so seldom. And Maggie, of course, did not want to sail any more than necessary. Harry had seized on this excuse and told Jack she would stay behind and bear her landlubber friend company. She did not think he suspected the real reason for remaining in Port Royal, although he had fixed her with a rather penetrating look and a slightly raised brow at the time. But he hadn't said anything, so all was well.
She was just beginning to think she should get up and ring for Estrella when there came a soft scratching at the door. It opened quietly before she could say anything, and Maggie peeked in.
"You are awake!" Maggie said.
As her friend entered, carrying a small, laden tray, Harry said, "Yes. I was just thinking of getting up. Oh, how lovely! Chocolate and fresh scones!" She struggled to sit up in the bed, mounding the pillows behind her, as her friend set the tray down and served out.
"Anatole made them especially for you: he is certainly devoted. After all the work of the ball, and still he rises early to cater to your whims."
"Yes, he is very indulgent. And Alphonse, too. It is a shame we are at war with the French again. Such nice people, for the most part. Though it has been of benefit to Jack. And to James Norrington, too. I daresay he will be an admiral before all is done."
Maggie took a sip of chocolate, peering over the rim of the cup at her friend and noting the rather sly look on her face.
Harry went on. "James has certainly grown to be a fine naval officer, has he not? So different from the shy, lanky young man we knew when we were girls."
Maggie smiled, a little sadly, thinking of it. She said, looking a little conscious, "I suppose I owe you an explanation."
Harry raised her brows in feigned inquiry.
Maggie pursed her lips and said, "Your innocent wiles are wasted on me, Harry. You invited James for my benefit, did you not?"
"Not at all! Well, partly. But indeed, Maggie, he attended our wedding, and is a very good friend of the family."
"I see."
"I was aware that you knew him, of course."
"Yes." Maggie looked down at her hands.
There was a pause. Then Harry sank back against the pillows and exclaimed, "Well, what is it? I am ready to expire from curiosity! What is between you?"
Lady Margaret laughed, and shook her head. "You are incorrigible. Very well, I shall tell you, but I would ask you not to spread the tale. It does not redound to my credit, unfortunately."
"But Maggie! You were always such a paragon: do not tell me I was mistaken in you, for I will not believe it. But, to be sure, I shall tell no one. Except Jack, of course, perhaps."
"Perhaps?" Maggie smiled.
"Yes, perhaps. Now tell me, if you please."
"Very well. It was after he received his commission. James was home, on leave, and we began meeting at some of the social events of the season. He…he conceived a…fondness for me, and began to pay court to me. And I'm afraid I encouraged him, somewhat. I did not realize how serious he was, perhaps, and he was only one of several, including Holliday. But indeed, looking back I realize I behaved very badly."
"So you thought it a flirtation. Why should you berate yourself for that?" asked Harry.
"Because the outcome was cataclysmic. Holliday…well, you know he was something of a rake. His attentions grew more and more marked as the season went on, and finally he…he…" She broke off, obviously agitated.
Harry's brows twitched together in a severe frown. "What, Maggie? Tell me! For your demeanor only leads me to suspect The Worst!"
Maggie laughed, shortly. "Not The Worst, but near enough. I foolishly went apart with him at a ball, and…well, he did not keep the line. I was a little agitated, and trying to get away when James walked in." Maggie shook her head, distressed at the memory. She said, sadly, "I will not bore you too much detail. There was a duel. Holliday chose pistols and deloped, and was shot in the shoulder: not a bad wound, but he wore a sling for a week or two, which made him an object of some interest. And aroused my sympathy. I had been half in love with him before, but knowing that he wanted me enough to forget himself at a ball and then seeing him like that, and discovering what had happened…"
Harry stared, suddenly aghast. "So you chose him over James?"
"I am afraid so."
"Oh, good God!" Harry exclaimed. "This is dreadful!"
Margaret looked a little puzzled. "But why, Harry? I mean, it is a little awkward meeting James now, but…"
"But now James has been twice rejected by the object of his affection!" Harry shook her head. "This is going to be much more difficult than I had imagined."
"Twice? What do you mean?"
"Elizabeth!" And Harry proceeded to enlighten her friend, for though she had told Maggie something of the adventure of the Isla de Muerta, she had not spoken before of Elizabeth's broken engagement.
When Harry at last fell silent, Maggie put a hand to her cheek. "Oh, poor James!"
"Poor James, indeed," Harry agreed. "No wonder he was so shocked at seeing you there last night. Still, he will soon grow used to the idea, and will no doubt like to see you again. We must invite him to dinner."
Maggie laughed, though she shook her head. "Harry, you must be mad! Were you indeed thinking of playing matchmaker between us? I have three children, and have been widowed besides!"
"Yes, you are perfect for him!" said Harry, decisively. "You are even more beautiful than you were as a girl—give you my word, Maggie! And the children are delightful: he will find them vastly entertaining! Especially young Charles, who is just the right age for him."
"What if he is not perfect for me?"
"Is he not, Maggie?" Harry looked at her friend seriously, though her eyes smiled.
Maggie, her mind going back to the very favorable impressions she had of James from the previous night, choked a little.
Harry nodded. "You see I am right, as always. I do nothing without careful thought."
"You are the most impetuous woman I know!" Maggie objected.
"Impetuous, but careful. All will be well. You'll see!"
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Harry was extremely pleased with Jack when he returned to the house and informed her what had transpired at Fort Charles that morning.
"Oh, you darling!" she exclaimed, hugging him. "It could not be better! I need to ask Elizabeth if she knows what are James's favorite dishes so I can give some direction to Anatole. And Maggie should have a nap this afternoon, for I want her to be in her best looks."
"You had better have a nap too, Mrs. Sparrow," said Jack, smiling. "I know you've just about done yourself in with that ball, and don't try an' tell me different."
Harry kissed him again, and said, "Yes, well, I am perhaps a little tired, but when you leave day after tomorrow I will have nothing to do but stay abed or, at most, walk in the gardens or on the beach. But this news of James coming here for dinner has quite revived me for the moment. Everything must be perfect!"
Jack rolled his eyes as she hurried away.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Norrington and Charles arrived promptly at six and were allowed admission to the house by the staid Beck, although Owens, who had been loitering about for the last half hour, was also on hand to greet them.
Charles went to his friend, immediately. "Oh, you should have stayed! It was beyond anything great! We had luncheon with some of the other officers and they were all of them so easy and friendly you'd not credit it! And then the Commodore showed me all 'round the fort! I even saw the gaol, where Captain Sparrow was held!"
"As comfortable as ever, I'll wager," said Jack, coming into the foyer, followed by Will and the Governor.
Charles turned to him, a little chagrinned. "W-was it comfortable? It did not look to be so."
Owens was looking a little upset, but Jack winked at him and said to Charles, "Oh, it was more so than some I've been in. Leastways there's a view of the sea, an' they don't starve ye." The boys both goggled at him then looked at each other, silently agreeing to demand stories of the pirate captain as soon as the opportunity arose. But now Jack had turned to Norrington. "Commodore! We've been waiting for you! Still game for a bit of fencing practice?"
"Yes, certainly," said Norrington. "How do you do, Will? Governor?"
The Governor replied, "Excellently well, dear fellow! I must say it will be a treat to watch you three at practice. I doubt we shall have the whole house hanging out the windows to get a view. We've set up an area in the back garden. Shall we adjourn?"
Some chairs and a table with refreshing drinks had been set out on the lawn, the trees bordering the area providing comfortable shade as the sun sank toward the horizon.
"We've about an hour before the light goes," said Will. "Shall we draw straws to see who'll go first?"
Will picked the short straw and immediately chose the Commodore as his opponent. The Governor and Jack sat down in the comfortable chairs to watch, while the two boys sat cross-legged on the lawn just outside the combat area, to the detriment of their light-colored breeches. The Governor was correct about the general interest engendered by the unprecedented display of form and talent for as the two men removed their coats and picked up their swords, faces began appearing at windows. Norrington happened to glance up as he took his place opposite Will, and caught sight of Harry, Elizabeth and Maggie looking out the wide window of Harry's dressing room. He lifted a hand in acknowledgement, and Harry waved back enthusiastically, but it was Maggie's more hesitant gesture that drew Norrington's attention. And then the salute was given and the battle fairly joined, and James Norrington had perforce to give his full attention to the task at hand.
It was well that Norrington was disciplined enough to do this, for Will Turner was without doubt one of the finest swordsmen the Commodore had ever crossed a blade with. The boy had learnt the basics from the fort's fencing master, spending what little time and money Brown had allowed him on lessons. Laurence Grimby had charged him far less than he would have ordinarily, for he had seen talent in the lad from the start. After several years, however, there had come a point when old Grimby had to admit that the pupil had exceeded the master's skill. The gruff soldier had told Will he'd nothing more he could show him and he'd have to look further afield for worthy adversaries: would he not like to give up blacksmithing and wear the scarlet coat? He was sure something could be arranged. But as much as Will loved the art of the duello, he loved working the metal that made up the elegant weapons even more, and his skill in that area of endeavor was surpassing that of his master as well. So Will had continued practicing, on his own or with the occasional opponent, all of whom came into the fray with smug assurance and left shaking their heads in bemusement at the brilliance of the blacksmith's apprentice.
So it was with Norrington. He was a good swordsman himself, the finest at Fort Charles surely, but the first time he had agreed to a practice session with Will, a few weeks after the wedding, he had been made to look nohow, at least to begin with. So far from invoking his ire, however, it spurred him to greater effort, and he ended that first session with a win, though it had been a near thing. The second time the two had met, Norrington had been better prepared, having got some extra advice and practice from Grimby, yet in the end he could only boast success in two of their five matches that day.
Now, however, as they began their current encounter, Norrington fancied that Will was not up to his usual form. They were fairly evenly matched, at first, but gradually Norrington gained the upper hand and at last Will threw up his hands, acknowledging the hit the Commodore had got under his guard.
"You've improved! Or I'm out of practice. That shouldn't have got past me," said Will, with a smile.
"Nonsense," said the Commodore. "I daresay you were up half the night dancing with the beautiful Elizabeth! And up betimes, this morning."
Will nodded. "I have an order for a sword I'm trying to finish before we leave on Monday. The man lives in Ocho Rios and Jack said we could make the delivery before we ride up to the plantation."
"You are off to Ocho Rios?"
"Aye," said Jack, who'd got up and now picked up his sword. "We're going to visit Eustace Greene. He's a cane grower, and produces a fine rum from what I hear. He's agreed to meet with Giles and me and share some secrets, as well as some of his rum. We're sailing 'round on the Pearl, day after tomorrow." Jack hesitated, cocking his head, but then said smoothly, "You should take a few days off and come with us, Commodore. As a guest, that is: I wouldn't give up command of the Pearl even were you an admiral. But you'd be welcome, if you feel you could get away."
Swann got up, saying, "What a splendid idea! I've decided to go along as well, and if you were to join us it would add greatly to our enjoyment! We'll only be gone five days—surely the fort can do without you for such a short length of time?"
Norrington looked very surprised, and rather pleased. He said to Jack, "I must say I am very tempted to acquiesce to this scheme. I have not taken time off from my duties in over a year, and the expedition sounds most intriguing!"
"Don't even think of turning us down, then," grinned Jack. "Must cater to the whims of the Governor, after all, an' he wants you along!"
"Speaking of catering to whims, is your charming wife to be one of the company?"
Jack glanced up at the window, where Harry, who was leaning out, blew him a kiss. "No. She's a bit pulled by the bustle of the last couple o' weeks. The ladies are all stayin' behind. Between the three of 'em, Port Royal should be safe as houses."
Norrington laughed. "Do you think so, indeed? I myself would think it likely that we shall return to some sort of disaster! But perhaps all will be well, for she is nearly due to be confined, is she not?"
"Aye, it's back to St. Claire as soon as we've returned from our research expedition. An' she says she'll be layin' about the place, mostly, while we're gone, so no worries, eh? Now then: you ready for a real match with that pig-sticker?" Jack grinned at Will, for the sword Norrington was using was none other than that which the lad had made.
"Very ready!" Norrington replied, happily determined to avenge this epithet.
Norrington began with some caution but soon abandoned this, for Jack was not only very nearly as good a swordsman as Will, but fought with a grace and unpredictable flamboyance that came from long experience and extremely varied encounters. He was a fascinating adversary, and would be a dangerous one, indeed, under other circumstances. The Commodore found himself stretched to the limits of his own abilities just to defend himself, and, although he managed to win the first of the three matches, he felt himself tiring so much toward the conclusion of the third that he was almost thankful when it ended, even though it resulted in a thin cut to the back of his wrist.
"Oh, Lord!" Jack said, a little dismayed by this slip. He set down his sword and stepped quickly over to see how badly he'd hit the Commodore.
But Norrington, panting, actually grinned and said, "It's nothing. A scratch only. What a swordsman you are, Sparrow! I can't remember when I've fought a more enjoyable match." However, he gave his wrist over to Jack willingly enough.
Jack looked at the wound closely. "No, just a scratch, as you say, but we'd best put something on it."
"It's nearly time for dinner, anyway," said the Governor. "Why don't you gentlemen step inside and get cleaned up, and we shall meet in the drawing room in half an hour's time."
The three combatants agreed to this, and took themselves off, accompanied by the enthusiastically jabbering Charles and the glowing Michael Owens, who resolved then and there to make himself worthy to be the protégé of such a master as Captain Jack Sparrow.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Harry, too, was extremely pleased with the outcome of the practice, gloating so outrageously that Elizabeth and Maggie could only be amused. And this was only the beginning of an evening that fully met Mrs. Sparrow's expectations.
Maggie looked lovely. She was dressed more simply than on the previous night, but the dress of lilac silk was very beautiful, suiting her tall, slim figure to perfection. She hardly looked changed from years back, except that there was a certain gravity in her bearing that had not been present in those far off days.
And James Norrington, who, on entering the drawing room, unconsciously looked about for her, and then found himself seated by her at dinner, realized she was almost the epitome of what he loved in women. More so than Elizabeth had, actually. He found it quite disturbing, especially considering their previous history together. But he could not help noticing an odd feeling niggling at him. He wondered if it was happiness.
Harry seemed quite subdued at dinner, though she smiled and watched everyone more closely than any of them but Jack realized. When she occasionally met Jack's eyes, however, the look in them was so quizzical it was all she could do not to burst out laughing, so she avoided doing so, except when he led the conversation and she could both look and laugh without arousing suspicion.
For Jack proved to be as excellent and interesting a dinner companion as he was a swordsman. Norrington was impressed with his ability to spout anecdotes that were both entertaining and approached but never crossed the line of what was acceptable at a gentleman's dinner table. He did not monopolize the conversation, but his occasional offerings set the tone and made it quite wickedly enjoyable. A man of many parts was Captain Sparrow. And the looks that frequently passed between the man and his adorably flighty wife satisfied Norrington further that his view of Jack as 'a good man' was a sound one. It made the Commodore very glad that the Letter of Marque precluded further efforts by the Navy to curtail the Captain's career, at least at present.
After dinner, the ladies retired to the drawing room while the men sipped brandy and discussed the projected outing to Ocho Rios and Eustace Greene's plantation. Norrington found himself very much looking forward to setting aside his uniform and wig and sometimes onerous authority, and spending a few days just being James Norrington, bon vivant. He had not done so in far too long, and the prospect made a little smile hover on his lips. And then, when the Governor finally suggested they join the ladies again, there was that odd little feeling at the thought of seeing Margaret again. The little smile lit his eyes then, as well.
She was seated a little away from the rest of the ladies when they walked in, and, after a moment's hesitation, James approached her. The others, thankfully, were drawn away toward the hostess, who kindly informed the company she would now entertain them by playing her piece on the harpsichord and would Jack please turn the pages for her? This last was stated in such a militant tone that everyone laughed, except, wisely, Jack, who sat down next to Harry on the little bench and obliged her by not only obeying her behest, but refraining from saying anything about her occasional hesitation or wrong note, for truly she was much improved from the first time he'd heard her play.
Lady Margaret, watching her friend interact with her husband in such a manner, could only laugh.
James said, "They are a most amusing couple, are they not?"
Margaret looked up at him, and colored slightly, but said, still smiling, "Oh, they were made for each other, indeed! But do sit down, James."
"Thank you," he said, doing so. Looking a little conscious, he said, "I feel I must apologize for my behavior last night. It was something of a shock, seeing you standing there. But that is a poor excuse for incivility."
"You were not uncivil," Margaret said gently. "Harry thought to surprise you, and so she did, but she did not know…that is…she knew only that we were old friends."
"Yes. Old friends," said Norrington, the smile fading a little. "I understand you are now a widow."
"Yes. It has not been a year yet, but I have put off my grey and moved on to lavender for this occasion. Quite shocking, is it not?"
"It is a beautiful dress," Norrington said, "made for a beautiful woman."
"James!" Margaret said, rather startled.
But Norrington shrugged slightly, and turned his eyes toward the harpsichord tableau briefly, before looking at Margaret again. "It is the truth. Why try to deny it? I thought so then, and it is so now: more beautiful than ever. Were you happy, Margaret?"
Margaret flushed and now she, too, looked over at the harpsichord player and page-turner. "I…," she began, then broke off, at a loss, for she could hardly tell him the whole truth. She finally looked back at him and found him looking a little concerned at her reticence. "Yes," she said. "I was happy, for the most part. And I could not regret it, for I have my children, who mean the world to me. But…" She broke off again, and lowered her gaze briefly before concluding, "I am afraid you were right about Holliday, James."
He stared at her, knowing exactly what this meant, and there was both anger and sorrow in his eyes, though his expression was as controlled as always.
Margaret nodded. "I just thought you should know."
Her eyes were suspiciously bright as she turned her gaze back to where Harry and Jack were performing, and when she briefly felt the warmth of his hand on hers where it lay on her knee, she found it necessary to bite her lip, surreptitiously, and brush a finger of the other hand against the corner of one eye.
James stayed, sitting beside her, for a long time.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"Mrs. Sparrow, Governor, Captain: it has been a great pleasure," said James. He looked a little solemn, considering the lively conversation and impromptu card game that had taken place after Harry had given up trying to play her instrument, but the hostess considered this a good sign, for she had taken note of the way he'd hovered around her friend, and the look in their eyes as they had said good night earlier, before Maggie, pleading fatigue, had taken herself off to bed.
"James, you must come again soon. Perhaps when you men return from visiting Mr. Greene we can have another dinner party before Jack takes me back to St. Claire. You have been a most delightful guest."
"I thank you. I will very much look forward to it. Good night."
Harry watched demurely as the Commodore made his little bow, and went out to where his carriage waited. And as soon as Beck shut the door, Harry turned and with a little ecstatic cry of "Yes!" threw her arms around Jack and kissed him. He laughed under the kiss, and the Governor shook his head, with a crooked smile.