11 July, 1705
Governor's Mansion
Port Royal, Jamaica
I have not kept a diary since I was a young girl, I had thought them childish once I reached the age of twelve, but a few days ago, I realized that they are an extremely decent way of organizing one's thoughts, so I went out and bought myself a journal this morning.
All is as usual in Port Royal lately, nothing out of the ordinary save the announcement of Captain James Norrington's upcoming promotion to Commodore . The ceremony will be held this coming Saturday.
I have known James for nearly eight years. He was on the same ship as I on the crossing from England when I was ten years old. He was a lieutenant of twenty-five then, working his way up in the Navy slowly. I thought him very brave, and even fancied him for a time. I was young, and he was strong and courageous, any young girl would have taken a liking to him, he is a fine man after all, one any woman should dream of marrying.
Word has spread than he has plans of proposing to me at his promotion ceremony on Saturday. I will admit the notion is shocking, but it is also rather flattering, and, might I add, rather predictible.
A Commodore marrying the Governor's daughter? Who would have thought it? I hope my sarcasm is not offensive, but truly, it is not the first time this match, or similar matches, have been made. I have known James to fancy me for quite some time, even though he is considerably older than I. Our age difference is usual for most, though perhaps on the high end. He is thirty-three, and I am eighteen, that is fifteen years' difference.
My father has most assuredly been informed of James' intentions, either that or he is the one behind this match. I wouldn't put it past him to do so. My father is a logical thinker and plans ahead for the future. James and I are a smart match, propriety would have it be so.
The flame of my lamp is dying, and I shall have to close this entry.
Elizabeth Anne Swann