The Oldest Story in the Book
Chapter 5
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews. It's kept me going, I assure you. I re-read the chapter and I must say I sounded like a total bitch in the end note. Thank you for humoring me and all the kind reviews. And I'm very sorry this chapter is so short, but at least it's something.
Thank you to everyone who ordered me to sleep. I am slightly better rested now and will be considerably better after I sleep in tomorrow.
To Brooke–Emmie will be moderately grown up by the time this ends. Mid-teen anyway. That's the plan at the moment, at least. Hold on, it's going to be a bumpy ride.
To pendragginink–I was absolutely didn't think of it in that context. No, Norrington was just what-ifing about raising Emmie with her. Nothing more crossed my sick little mind. Good job.
As for the Maggie/Pearl dichotomy, looks like I'm dead either way. Oh well. I'll just start arming myself now. In the mean time, allow me to placate you with another chapter. Ta da!
The next week went by in a blur of happy visits to the Turners'. Maggie grew to like Pearl more than ever before, although her dislike of Jack was more obvious. She fell completely in love with Emmie, as everyone around her seemed to. She was indeed quick witted. Even Jack couldn't get one over on her.
After about a week of this Norrington found himself going to tea alone. Ethan had sneezed, only once, and Maggie had insisted not only on his remaining safely in the house, but also her remaining to watch over him. He had happy visions of bringing Bethany Maltrey back to his home to drag his wife out of the house.
The moment he set foot in the house he knew something was wrong. It was far too quiet, the low-hanging clouds seeming to deepen the dank feel of the house. And just like that he knew. Pearl was gone.
Bitsy led him up to a study upstairs rather than the parlor. Only Elizabeth and Emmie occupied the small space, both sewing by the meager light from the window. Elizabeth hurried to greet him when she saw him, quickly apologizing for Will, who was tied up at work.
"And Pearl?" he asked quietly, eyes fastened on Emmie. The girl had glanced shortly up at him when he first entered before returning her full attention to her work and hadn't glanced in his direction since. Still, he was certain the girl was straining to hear every word.
Elizabeth shook her head and whispered, "Gone. Left in the night some time. Jack too."
The sadness in Elizabeth's voice caught him off guard, and he could only think of one reason for it to be there. "She didn't tell you she was leaving?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "She left a note. Well, a scrap of paper actually. 'It's better this way.'"
"That sounds like her," Norrington acknowledged.
"I'll go get the tea," Elizabeth said.
Norrington nodded, studying the girl who still refused to look up at him. He wondered around the room a bit before finally settling next to the girl. "Hello Emmie."
"Hello."
He cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. He found it odd, that this girl would be half composed of himself and he had no notion of what to say to her. Lord, he hoped raising Ethan would be better. Guilt prickled at the thought. Didn't she deserve as much as his son?
"You know, don't you?" Emmie asked.
"Know what?" he asked. His first thought was fear that she was accusing him of knowing where her mother had sailed off to and was keeping it hidden from her.
"Who my mother was. What she was. I'm not supposed to talk about it, but it's all right if you already know."
He raised his eyebrows. Pearl had been coaching her? "Yes, I know."
Emmie nodded. "Mama said my name must be Emily now, but people can still call me Emmie." She paused. "I like Emerald better. I wanted to at least be something good, like Emeline, but Mama said no. Said it wasn't proper." Her small nose wrinkled. "I don't think I like proper, but Mama says we must give everything a chance, and Elizabeth isn't so proper as she could be."
"Do you like Elizabeth?" Norrington asked.
"Very much. She's like Mama. And Will's quite kind. I like him as well."
Norrington nodded. Elizabeth like Pearl? There was a scary thought. True, however. "Do you know why your name must change?" He wanted to know how much she truly understood about the situation.
Emmie nodded. "Because there are bad people who would kill Mama and Jack if they could, and if I said I was Emerald Sparrow they'd know how to find them." True enough, he supposed. "It wouldn't be so bad if the servants would call me Emmie, or even Emily, druther than 'Miss Nevern.' I don't like my new name. It's too weird. Sparrow is much better."
Norrington stared at the girl. It was a smart play. Pearl's idea, no doubt. There was an up-and-coming family in England by the name of Nevern. One of the daughters had just married a Duke of some standing with a mind for politics. A large family, as well. No one seemed to know exactly where they all were. The name would be far enough removed from the political realm for people to doubt any especially important connection to make her worth watching but connected enough for people to think twice about doing anything unforgivable to the child. Genius, pure and simple.
"Do you know why she had to leave?" he asked. Now, how did you explain your abandoning them to a two-year-old girl?
Emmie shrugged. "She's a Sparrow. She can't be caged. Needs to fly."
"You're a Sparrow," Norrington pointed out.
"I don't have my wings yet. Mama promised to teach me to fly soon as they sprout."
He shook his head. Genius again. "So what are you sewing?" he asked, expecting some random set of stitches with a story behind it.
"Sampler," she answered simply.
He stared at his two-and-a-half-year-old daughter in surprise. "You know letters?"
"I know my name," she answered. "Mama taught me."
She was smart, he acknowledged silently.
Elizabeth returned then, bearing a tray. "So how has work been? Any luck finding those escaped pirates?"
"No," Norrington sighed. "I don't have any idea how they got away. We still have their ship. I just hope they aren't stuffed into the hull of a merchant vessel waiting for them to set sail so that they can commandeer the ship."
Elizabeth sighed. "It's a danger. I really am very glad Will chose to stay here with me."
"Will's too good a man to be wasted on the sea," Norrington remarked. "If he really wanted to sail all he would need do is talk to me. I'm certain I could find a place for him in the navy."
"I don't believe the navy's the place for Will," Elizabeth said with a smile.
He nodded as Emmie finally set aside her sewing to take the tea cup Elizabeth offered her. "So how are you liking Port Royale, Emmie?" he asked.
Emmie shrugged. "I miss Grandma. An' it's too quiet here. No excitement. But it's all right, I guess. At least I can still see the sea. I'd miss that. An' Mama says it is the best place for me, so it must be."
He smiled down at the girl. She would adjust. He promised himself she would.
Author's Note: so that's it. Review, please. I'm going to try to get another one up soon. Emphasis on try, and my upcoming midterms. Until then, the whole crew bids you a fond 'see you later.'
Chapter 5
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews. It's kept me going, I assure you. I re-read the chapter and I must say I sounded like a total bitch in the end note. Thank you for humoring me and all the kind reviews. And I'm very sorry this chapter is so short, but at least it's something.
Thank you to everyone who ordered me to sleep. I am slightly better rested now and will be considerably better after I sleep in tomorrow.
To Brooke–Emmie will be moderately grown up by the time this ends. Mid-teen anyway. That's the plan at the moment, at least. Hold on, it's going to be a bumpy ride.
To pendragginink–I was absolutely didn't think of it in that context. No, Norrington was just what-ifing about raising Emmie with her. Nothing more crossed my sick little mind. Good job.
As for the Maggie/Pearl dichotomy, looks like I'm dead either way. Oh well. I'll just start arming myself now. In the mean time, allow me to placate you with another chapter. Ta da!
The next week went by in a blur of happy visits to the Turners'. Maggie grew to like Pearl more than ever before, although her dislike of Jack was more obvious. She fell completely in love with Emmie, as everyone around her seemed to. She was indeed quick witted. Even Jack couldn't get one over on her.
After about a week of this Norrington found himself going to tea alone. Ethan had sneezed, only once, and Maggie had insisted not only on his remaining safely in the house, but also her remaining to watch over him. He had happy visions of bringing Bethany Maltrey back to his home to drag his wife out of the house.
The moment he set foot in the house he knew something was wrong. It was far too quiet, the low-hanging clouds seeming to deepen the dank feel of the house. And just like that he knew. Pearl was gone.
Bitsy led him up to a study upstairs rather than the parlor. Only Elizabeth and Emmie occupied the small space, both sewing by the meager light from the window. Elizabeth hurried to greet him when she saw him, quickly apologizing for Will, who was tied up at work.
"And Pearl?" he asked quietly, eyes fastened on Emmie. The girl had glanced shortly up at him when he first entered before returning her full attention to her work and hadn't glanced in his direction since. Still, he was certain the girl was straining to hear every word.
Elizabeth shook her head and whispered, "Gone. Left in the night some time. Jack too."
The sadness in Elizabeth's voice caught him off guard, and he could only think of one reason for it to be there. "She didn't tell you she was leaving?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "She left a note. Well, a scrap of paper actually. 'It's better this way.'"
"That sounds like her," Norrington acknowledged.
"I'll go get the tea," Elizabeth said.
Norrington nodded, studying the girl who still refused to look up at him. He wondered around the room a bit before finally settling next to the girl. "Hello Emmie."
"Hello."
He cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. He found it odd, that this girl would be half composed of himself and he had no notion of what to say to her. Lord, he hoped raising Ethan would be better. Guilt prickled at the thought. Didn't she deserve as much as his son?
"You know, don't you?" Emmie asked.
"Know what?" he asked. His first thought was fear that she was accusing him of knowing where her mother had sailed off to and was keeping it hidden from her.
"Who my mother was. What she was. I'm not supposed to talk about it, but it's all right if you already know."
He raised his eyebrows. Pearl had been coaching her? "Yes, I know."
Emmie nodded. "Mama said my name must be Emily now, but people can still call me Emmie." She paused. "I like Emerald better. I wanted to at least be something good, like Emeline, but Mama said no. Said it wasn't proper." Her small nose wrinkled. "I don't think I like proper, but Mama says we must give everything a chance, and Elizabeth isn't so proper as she could be."
"Do you like Elizabeth?" Norrington asked.
"Very much. She's like Mama. And Will's quite kind. I like him as well."
Norrington nodded. Elizabeth like Pearl? There was a scary thought. True, however. "Do you know why your name must change?" He wanted to know how much she truly understood about the situation.
Emmie nodded. "Because there are bad people who would kill Mama and Jack if they could, and if I said I was Emerald Sparrow they'd know how to find them." True enough, he supposed. "It wouldn't be so bad if the servants would call me Emmie, or even Emily, druther than 'Miss Nevern.' I don't like my new name. It's too weird. Sparrow is much better."
Norrington stared at the girl. It was a smart play. Pearl's idea, no doubt. There was an up-and-coming family in England by the name of Nevern. One of the daughters had just married a Duke of some standing with a mind for politics. A large family, as well. No one seemed to know exactly where they all were. The name would be far enough removed from the political realm for people to doubt any especially important connection to make her worth watching but connected enough for people to think twice about doing anything unforgivable to the child. Genius, pure and simple.
"Do you know why she had to leave?" he asked. Now, how did you explain your abandoning them to a two-year-old girl?
Emmie shrugged. "She's a Sparrow. She can't be caged. Needs to fly."
"You're a Sparrow," Norrington pointed out.
"I don't have my wings yet. Mama promised to teach me to fly soon as they sprout."
He shook his head. Genius again. "So what are you sewing?" he asked, expecting some random set of stitches with a story behind it.
"Sampler," she answered simply.
He stared at his two-and-a-half-year-old daughter in surprise. "You know letters?"
"I know my name," she answered. "Mama taught me."
She was smart, he acknowledged silently.
Elizabeth returned then, bearing a tray. "So how has work been? Any luck finding those escaped pirates?"
"No," Norrington sighed. "I don't have any idea how they got away. We still have their ship. I just hope they aren't stuffed into the hull of a merchant vessel waiting for them to set sail so that they can commandeer the ship."
Elizabeth sighed. "It's a danger. I really am very glad Will chose to stay here with me."
"Will's too good a man to be wasted on the sea," Norrington remarked. "If he really wanted to sail all he would need do is talk to me. I'm certain I could find a place for him in the navy."
"I don't believe the navy's the place for Will," Elizabeth said with a smile.
He nodded as Emmie finally set aside her sewing to take the tea cup Elizabeth offered her. "So how are you liking Port Royale, Emmie?" he asked.
Emmie shrugged. "I miss Grandma. An' it's too quiet here. No excitement. But it's all right, I guess. At least I can still see the sea. I'd miss that. An' Mama says it is the best place for me, so it must be."
He smiled down at the girl. She would adjust. He promised himself she would.
Author's Note: so that's it. Review, please. I'm going to try to get another one up soon. Emphasis on try, and my upcoming midterms. Until then, the whole crew bids you a fond 'see you later.'