Three - A Man of Action
James Norrington, newly invested Commodore of His Majesty's vessels in the Caribbean, did not have time to consider the options. Nor did he have the time to think, or to weigh the consequences of his actions. He knew one thing and one thing only. The person most dear to him in all the world had just disappeared beneath the waves that beat at the foot of Fort Charles, and all that remained to mark her passage was a ripple in the water.
He began to remove his coat. The heavy garment would only weigh him down.
A hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him away from the ledge. Lieutenant Gillette stood beside him, his face etched with even more concern than usual.
"The rocks!" Gillette reminded him anxiously. "Sir, it's a miracle she missed them!"
James knew that his lieutenant was right, of course. No man who hadn't taken leave of his senses would willingly jump from the spot on which he stood.
James removed his hat and handed it to Gillette.
"Then we'd best pray that I am as fortunate," he said, and dove into the bay.
His body cut the water smoothly. Salt stung his eyes, but he could just make out the form of Elizabeth Swann lying on the sea bottom. At last, his hands brushed against her dress. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her from the sand.
His lungs were beginning to burn from lack of air as he swam toward the surface. It was slow going. Too slow, he feared. The weight of Elizabeth and her wet clothing bore him down. Elizabeth alone, he could have carried… The thought gave Norrington an idea.
Any other day, he would have died before touching a lady in such a fashion without her permission. But, the life of the woman in his arms and his own increasing need to breathe again drove all thoughts of propriety from his mind. He ripped her dress roughly down the front and freed her arms and legs from the heavy, tangled fabric.
Elizabeth was indeed as small and light as he had imagined, and the pale, distorted light coming from above drew closer swiftly. They broke the surface, and he drew a few sweet, gloriously long breaths of air before making for the nearest dock.
A crowd had gathered there, and James handed Elizabeth up to a pair of marines before accepting a bit of help getting out of the water himself. They laid her flat on the dock, and James noted with despair how pale and limp she was. Governor Swann knelt beside her, and James joined him.
"She's not breathing," he shouted, hoping that someone would have the sense to call for a doctor.
"Getting rid of the bloody corset might fix that!" yelled an unmannered voice James did not recognize. It was an odd suggestion, but it made a surprising amount of sense.
"Give me your knife," James ordered the nearest marine.
The fellow gave him a confused look, but he pulled his blade from his belt and handed it to James hilt first. Briefly, James met the governor's eyes, as if to say, "With your permission," and slit Elizabeth's corset open. Immediately, she began to cough. James held her head in his lap as she gasped for air.
Elizabeth opened her eyes, and James had never found them more beautiful. As he helped her to sit up, she tilted her head to one side in confusion.
"Commodore Norrington?"
"Yes?" he said gently.
Elizabeth blinked several times, trying to clear her head. "You… jumped in after me?"
"I did," he told her.
She looked at him for several long moments. He did not look at all like the stiff and proper man who had proposed to her. He had lost his wig and his shoes, and there was a bit of seaweed caught at the cuff of his shirt.
"That was very brave of you," she murmured.
"I could have done nothing less," he said earnestly.
Elizabeth smiled then, not the forced upturning of the lips required by polite convention, but a true smile. James felt that his heart would surely stop.
"Thank you, James," she said. She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek. She drew back, looking at him expectantly.
James knew that Port Royal would be afire with gossip within the hour.
Let them talk, he thought as he bent to kiss her.