AN: last instalment for now, but, excluding insane British storms, more should be on its way. I like this one, actually. Ah, a nice refreshing walk on the sea-front. Nothing better, surely? apart from dishevelled Norrie, naturally…

13

She was happy to be left alone in the sunny parlour of the inn to read the letter. She supposed it could only be about the picnic, and wondered whether she would be dreadfully disappointed if the Commodore was writing to inform her of its permanent cancellation. The letter itself, however, revealed the opposite.

Dear Miss Groves, read the letter,

I trust you enjoyed the proceedings last night, and hope you are in good health. I write to invite you to a picnic on Santa Maria, on Thursday week. I expect you remember our proposed outing some time ago, and hope this new date is acceptable to you. I await your reply, and remain,

James Norrington.

Miss Groves let the letter fall to her lap, a little deflated. So she would be going to Santa Maria with the handsome Commodore, after all. But she detected no great desire or enthusiasm for her attendance in the letter, as she had in his first correspondence. She sat in the parlour for some time.

Her brother, finally vertical thanks in no small part to the care of his wife, finally came downstairs and announced his intention to visit the fort and oversee some training. Miss Groves fought with herself, before expressing her wish to accompany him, so that she might reply in person to the Commodore's second invitation.

Groves smiled readily as he heard his sister articulate this desire, and gladly took her arm as they walked through the streets leisurely, drawing more than one admiring glance for the smart cut of his uniform, and the quiet English beauty of the young woman by his side.

'You really needn't come, Alicia,' he said presently. 'I am quite capable of conveying your reply to James.'

'I know,' replied she, 'but I would much rather respond in person. After all, you yourself have complained at length at my lack of confidence. I shall practice my resolve to be more amiable on your friend. I am sure he can have no complaint.'

Groves frowned slightly. His sister evidently considered James his friend, rather than a handsome, rich young bachelor who, when the mood took him, could be more than likeable. However, he felt it imprudent to push the point further, and they carried on in the hot sun until they reached the fort, which was buzzing even at that early hour.

The Commodore was studying a trade report from the West Indies when they found him in the shade of a stone balcony. He looked up as they approached.

'Lieutenant Groves!' he exclaimed. 'I had not expected to see you this morning.'

Groves hung his head a little bashfully. 'I confess I find myself more mobile than I probably deserve after last night's excess,' he admitted. Norrington, however, was smiling, as he bowed and kissed Miss Groves' gloved hand.

'It is a pleasure to see you, Miss Groves,' he said quietly. 'A fine day for a stroll along the water-front, would you not agree?'

Miss Groves suddenly found herself, despite her previous resolution to engage with greater frequency and eagerness in conversation with the Commodore, a little tongue-tied.

'Why…yes, Commodore…er…fine weather, indeed.' She looked at the floor miserably under the brim of her hat.

'Well, Groves,' Norrington continued, turning to her brother. 'Come to see the show, have you?' Groves looked puzzled. 'Fifty new recruits arrived three days ago, fresh as daisies, and most of them barely seen a rifle before. And they're all yours, my friend. Do…ah…lick them into shape, won't you?'

'Yes, sir.' Groves looked less than happy at the prospect.

'Come, man, a fine naval officer like yourself. It can be your crowning glory before you leave us.'

Miss Groves, whose mind had been wandering slightly as she watched marines drilling, and seagulls wheeling over the huge Union Jack, suddenly remembered the errand which had brought her to the fort.

Timidly, she stepped forward. 'Er…Commodore Norrington?' she asked shyly.

'Yes, Miss Groves?' he replied, mildly surprised by her interruption.

'I…I was fortunate enough to take delivery of your kind invitation this morning.'

'Oh? I hope it was favourable to you?'

'Indeed, yes,' she said hastily. 'I should be delighted to accept it.'

'Good, good,' the Commodore said with a smile of rare joy. 'I certainly hope it will be a grand occasion.'

Miss Groves nodded quickly, and, the acceptance spoken, found herself completely unable to think of a way to continue the faltering conversation.

There was a shout from the other side of the courtyard. All three glanced in that direction.

'Ah, Lieutenant,' Norrington said. 'It seems you are needed already.'

Groves looked tormented. 'So it seems, sir. But I really must escort Alicia back the Oak first. My wife would certainly not allow her to walk the streets of Port Royal unaccompanied.'

'I quite agree, Groves,' Norrington nodded. The shouts from the opposite corner became more insistent. 'How about I escort Miss Groves back to the inn, Lieutenant? I am not particularly busy this morning, if she would be so kind as to acquiesce. And,' he added hastily, 'if that is acceptable to her brother, of course.'

Groves looked somewhat relieved. 'Of course, sir. Alicia, go with the Commodore.'

Miss Groves scowled at being patronised so, but obligingly took the Commodore's proffered arm gently, her face flushed beneath her bonnet.

The exited the fort, Norrington noting the curious stares of some of the younger officers, and began to stroll along the sea-front, along the high, well built walls. The silence between them was pressing.

Norrington's head was clearer than it had been upon awaking that morning, and he began to analyse his confusing feelings towards the women who featured in his rather lonely life. He had fallen asleep after the party determined to think no more of Elizabeth Swann, and angry with Miss Groves for her obvious happiness at being around the dashing Mr Armitage.

However, when he looked up to see her slim figure at Groves' side, and felt his heart leap a little, he realised he might have misunderstood her reaction somewhat. What person walked miles in the hot sun to reply personally to an invitation, without some inclination of friendship or regard? He wondered if perhaps Elizabeth had been right, in that annoying way that women often have, and had observed some partiality on the part of Miss Groves.

Norrington was unsure how he would or should react were he to happen upon evidence to confirm this, and doubtfully remembered the coldness with which the young woman had left his side after their brief dance. It was unclear to him in his emotional distress, for the hurt caused by the rejection of Miss Swann had been intensified by the party, whether he would welcome her affection, let alone find it within himself to return it.

Glancing briefly at her slender form next to him, he compared her none too critically to Elizabeth. Surely the Governor's daughter was far more beautiful, and yet…Miss Groves had a fresh naivety about her, the remnants of a character more used to the refinery of England, rather than the humid squalor of Port Royal. It was a fine day, and Norrington felt that it would be counter-productive to waste such good weather worrying about young women and their intentions.

AN: until soon, then, my chicks. Thank you for your patience and understanding. There is no justice in this world…