AN: sorry, I'm a bit slow on the update today. Getting stuff ready for orchestra tour to Italy! And guess what I'm going to see today? At 11.00? not that I'm counting down the minutes or anything…dd xx
23
Publicly, Norrington lauded Gillette for his swift action in sending for him when lives were potentially in danger, but internally he raged at the incompetence of the man. It had been a merchant vessel which was damaged by the reefs two miles out to sea, manned solely by strong, experienced male sailors quite capable of swimming the short distance in the calm waters. The ship was partially beached on one of the sandbars, and so much of the cargo was also able to be salvaged.
Norrington found it hard to believe that one of his most senior officers could not even coordinate a simple mission to aid the stranded sailors. However, he was entirely sensible that his rage was not at Gillette's ineptitude, but at the way in which what had been a perfect evening had been ruined.
He was almost certain, as he rode silently to church with the Swanns the next Sunday, that he would have proposed to Alicia that evening, or at the very least ascertained whether his feelings for her were reciprocated, had Appleby not burst into his reverie. As it was, he was left with no idea of her regard for him, and a horrible sense of listlessness as he attempted to contrive some plausible way of seeing her again socially.
Elizabeth seemed conscious of his poor temper, for she tried to cheer him up.
'You are coming to my father's birthday party, are you not, James?'
'Yes, indeed, Miss Swann,' he replied, glancing at the Governor, wondering what shade of red he would turn if Norrington dared to call his daughter 'Elizabeth'.
She raised her eyebrows in understanding of the fake formality between them.
'I am pleased to hear that. Will you be escorting Miss Alicia Groves, sir?' she winked girlishly. Norrington was alarmed to see the Governor prick his ears and listen in interest to this new gossip.
'I…could not say, madam…I was not aware I…' he blushed a little and sat back in the cramped carriage.
'Oho, Commodore, what's this?' Governor Swann demanded, poking his neighbour in the ribs. 'Miss Alicia Groves…Lizzy, is that not the dark-haired girl who was at your…'he broke off with a sly grin as his daughter nodded. 'And you…Commodore, you old dog! Is there to be a double wedding this summer?' he looked delighted at the prospect, and Norrington glared in mock disapproval at Elizabeth, slightly irritated at being referred to as an 'old dog'.
'I could not possibly comment, Governor,' he said quietly. 'Regardless of my own wishes, which I refuse to quantify, no matter how you entreat me, I remain a single man. Miss Alicia Groves is indeed an admirable young woman…and as thus may take her pick from the bachelors of Port Royal.' He heard Elizabeth snort in most unladylike disbelief, and he shot her a warning glance.
The rest of the carriage ride unfolded in silence, but Norrington could almost hear the cogs in the Governor's bewigged head whirring, digesting the latest gossip on the love life of a most eligible gentleman.
It was a slightly overcast day as they alighted from the carriage, Norrington handing Elizabeth down to Mr Turner, who was waiting for her with a broad grin on his young face.
'Mr Turner,' the Commodore greeted him genially, registering the mild shock on the blacksmith's face.
'Commodore. I trust you are well?'
'Very, I thank you. You are busy with wedding preparations, I presume?'
'I…' Turner searched for a diplomatic answer, seemingly unsure of why the Commodore was being so cordial. 'Yes…there is not a large enough marquee to be found for love or money this side of the Atlantic.'
Norrington laughed sincerely. 'Well, if you are short of chairs, be sure to send to my house for a few…I declare, I have never known anyone have so much furniture, but so few people in one's household to use the wretched stuff.' He raised his hat and entered the small church, greeting casual acquaintances along the way. It was odd, he thought, how a friendly chat with Elizabeth could put him in such good humour, and yet not prompt him to revert to his old desires for her.
The congregation had not yet fully assembled as he made his way to the front pew, where he sat as the foremost naval officer in the region. However, he noted one family he had not seen before, about halfway down the church – an elderly couple accompanied by who Norrington assumed to be their young son and daughter.
Just before he lost interest in the newcomers and proceeded to his own pew, he saw the daughter turn her head to listen to something the son whispered in her ear, and he realised with a jolt in his stomach that it was Alicia, dressed in lilac, leafing through her hymnbook and laughing at what the man had told her. He was about to cross over and greet her, when her companion turned to look around the church, and he saw that it was Frederick Armitage.
His face went white, and he suddenly felt very far away from the ground. Alicia, coming to church with him, as though she were already a part of his family. She looked so content and satisfied, sitting there, without him, perfectly fitting into the picture of the Armitage family, already symbolising the hope of the father's business.
He somehow managed to make his way to his own pew without looking back to see them giggling together, and sat down heavily, hating Gillette even more, imagining that Alicia might herself have been sitting beside him now, his betrothed, had it not been for the stupid shipwreck.
Elizabeth slid into the pew beside him and put a comforting hand on his arm.
'Freddy Armitage is a drunken swine,' she whispered hotly. 'Alicia Groves is not fool enough to be taken in by a philanderer such as he, for all his smiles and sensuous words.'
Norrington was not sure whether to be cheered by this, or sink further into despair because of his inability to think of a single 'sensuous' word, let alone murmur it in Miss Groves' ear. He tried desperately to focus on the service, pondering each and every word of the vicar's dull sermon on the merits of poverty, but could not help but feel an itch at the back of his head that made him yearn to turn around and look at her.
He intended to escape as soon as possible back to the fort after the service, to avoid talking to either of them if he could. However, his wish was not to be granted, for Alicia caught up with his long strides as he was leaving the churchyard, calling 'Commodore!' earnestly.
For once, he was in no mood for her happy smile and intense eyes, for Armitage was only a step or two behind her, and he immediately took Alicia's arm, although Norrington noticed that she looked less than pleased at this intimacy.
'Miss Groves,' he said, more curtly than he had intended, bowing shortly. 'Mr Armitage,' he added, not bothering to keep his voice civil. The other did not seem to notice, however, and began to talk jovially.
'Good service, eh, Norrington? I do like a nice provincial church, I do…a nice place to get wed, I'd say…though, of course, we'd neither of us know, would we? Old bachelors, both…'
'You are hardly old, Mr Armitage,' Norrington replied coldly, staring at the grey sky and wondering if he could make it to the fort on foot before it rained.
'Pshaw, man, a figure of speech! Neither are you, if it comes to that…maybe a little old for the tastes of a feisty young miss like Lizzy Swann…but you can't account for tastes these days, eh?' he winked roguishly.
The Commodore glanced at Alicia to see whether she found this talk amusing, and was gratified to see only sympathy in her eyes.
'I repeat what I said on our last meeting, sir,' Norrington said, hearing his voice rise, 'Miss Swann was right to refuse my offer. I am proud to count myself still among her closest friends.' He realised he was being haughty and snobbish, and could not give a damn.
Armitage raised his eyebrows conspiratorially. 'Closest friends, eh, James? Well, we'll see…I don't fancy facing that Will Turner with a sword if you get…too close to his missus-to-be, if you catch my drift…'
Norrington barely suppressed the sailor side of himself, which was screaming to let a tirade of obscenities and well placed punches at the younger man. The shock on Alicia's face at her companion's crude words was, however, enough to calm his rage, pleased he had found some solidarity.
Just as he was about to turn to leave, Armitage had the audacity to continue.
'You'll join us for a drink or three at the Goose, won't you, Jimmy my boy? My friends and I tend to while away the afternoons there, nursing a pint of Mrs Brown's finest. They'd like to meet an honest, tough seaman like yourself…what d'you say?'
Norrington was sorely tempted to make some sarcastic retort, accompanied by a sharp kick to the groin, but a mad urge to know his enemy and convince himself that Armitage was indeed an abrasive, unsavoury scoundrel seized him. He was scared he was prejudiced to hate the young man because of his supposed claim on Alicia, and was deliberately blinding himself to any positive qualities the man might possess.
So, against his better judgement, and evidently to the surprise of Alicia Groves, who was looking utterly miserable at the unfortunate meeting of the two rivals, he found himself accepting the invitation to drink away the day with the worst of Port Royal's aristocracy.
AN: I personally think this is where it starts to get interesting. Next chapter is one of my favourites…it involves alcohol, drunkenness, and the like…but as for the result of this debauchery, well, you'll just have to come back later. Probably tomorrow. dd xx