AN: okies, get ready for that most lethal of secret weapons: impulsive!Norrington. Yum yum, say I. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, I really do. And I send you as always my best regards for your kind reviews. Also, in response to some people who have bemoaned the shortness of these chapters – many apologies. They do get a little longer, but not significantly. I hope regular updates make up for this deficiency? dd xx
27
It was gone one o'clock before he rose from the chair into which he had fitfully thrown himself, his powers of thought and logic sapped for that day. His eyes were thrumming with fatigue and the rawness of many tears, and he knew he must sleep if at all possible. It was almost inconceivable to him, as he sat on the edge of the bed and prepared to remove his heavy boots, that he would rise tomorrow and continue working, commanding, making decisions, facing his men with the usual proud countenance.
A sudden noise in the distance outside caused him to pause in his undressing. The clatter of frantic hooves on the path outside, he thought. He silently damned whoever was intruding upon his troubled peace as he took up the candle by his bed and crossed to the door.
As he looked from the balcony, he saw the housekeeper, Mrs. Manning, open the door and admit a windswept, frantic woman, sobbing fitfully and explaining her distress in great gulping breaths.
'Please, the Commodore…I must speak…please…'
Though he was unused to hearing her so agitated and ruffled, he recognized Alicia Groves, despite the way in which her hair was flying about her face, and her dress was muddy and torn. Norrington had never seen her look so beautiful as in the dim light of the hall, clutching at Mrs. Manning, her chest heaving with emotion.
'Miss Groves!' he said sharply, descending the stairs hurriedly, holding the candle aloft. 'What are you doing here at such a late hour?'
She turned to look at him, and her face was filled with relief and a frantic plea for immediate aid. He forgot instantly the pain they had caused each other, and ran to her side.
'Please…please…' she begged softly, through her sobs.
'You rode all the way here?' he asked incredulously, helping her to sit on the bottom step, and motioning for Mrs. Manning to bring a blanket. Alicia nodded tearfully, but with a hint of pride in her bright eyes.
'Miss Groves, you must tell me what is wrong,' he said softly, unconsciously caressing her shaking hand. 'Please take a moment to compose yourself…and then tell me everything. Is your family in danger?'
'Oh, yes!' she said in terror. 'The plantation…they came out of the night…I was barely able to flee…my poor sister…oh, God…' she began trembling uncontrollably. Norrington paused a moment before putting his arm around her shoulder and comforting her gently.
'Go on…' he whispered softly.
'I…I don't know who they were…my brother took Elinor and the children to the cellars…I am to warn you…bandits…they are headed for the Port, Commodore!' she began to sob again, and Norrington let her cry unrestrained for while. Finally, he stood, helping her to her feet.
'I must go,' he said firmly.
'No, no, sir, please…you must be tired out! Send your servants, I implore you!'
'I cannot, Miss Groves. My duty is to defend the town and its citizens, and that is what I shall do.' He looked gravely at her, huddled in Mrs. Manning's blanket, and the sight of a single tear on her eyelashes caused something to break within him.
She looked down at the floor, understanding his compulsion to defend Port Royal. From the long windows above the stairs, tall, flickering flames could be seen from the Groves' plantation. All at once, Norrington realized he was intending to ride against an unknown enemy, and that for the second time that day, he was in danger of losing his life, with Alicia still ignorant of his passion for her.
'I will not make that mistake again,' he murmured half to himself.
'Excuse me?' she asked in confusion, looking in fear up at him, her lips quavering.
The Commodore enfolded her suddenly in a mad, fervent embrace, the blanket falling to the floor. He barely heard her little gasp as she was clasped against his chest, and he could think of nothing but the press of her uncorseted body against his, and the feel of her arms tightly around him, as though he could save her and protect her from any ill. Without thinking, blindly, his lips crashed against hers and he tasted her tears with his tongue.
Far-off sounds from the town dragged him away from her, and he released her as abruptly as he had caught her up. She sank back down onto the step limply.
'I love you,' he gasped, overcome by affection for her. 'I love you, Alicia…remember that, if I do not return.' He could say no more to express himself properly, and instead kissed the top of her untidy head, and was gone suddenly into the night, shouting orders to a sleepy valet to bring his weapons and his saddle.
He rode through the night, the thick plants at the roadside catching at his legs and casting lurid shadows across the way. His heart was still beating erratically with the memory of his sudden passion, and he fought to focus on the dim lights of the town in the distance, rather than the desire he had glimpsed in Alicia's frightened face as he kissed her. The folly of it! It had been a selfish, unthinking act; he had taken advantage of her panicked state, and he knew it must not happen again.
There might never be the occasion, he reminded himself as he rode steadily, feeling brambles sting his cheeks. He could see, as he neared the sprawling town, that he was too late to warn the inhabitants. Even about a half-mile from the outskirts, he could see several houses on fire, and hear anguished screams and gunshots. Norrington tied his horse securely to a tree out of sight of the road, and cocked his pistol in anticipation.
He met no one on his way into the town, and peered cautiously around the corner of a building which still stood intact. The main square was lit up like day by several burning buildings, and Norrington could see several figures battling valiantly in the thick smoke, obviously clad in whatever garments had come to hand when they realized the source of the night-time disturbance.
He could hear women screaming and horses galloping helter-skelter through the narrow streets. There seemed to be Marines running randomly about, with no central figure to command them. The intruders were a motley crew, armed with all manner of weapons, sawn off blunderbusses and pitchforks – but for all their amateurish appearance, they were wreaking havoc among the populace of Port Royal.
Norrington could watch no longer. Drawing his sword, and holding his pistol ready in the other hand, he entered the melee, calling to his men as he did so. The arrival of a new fighter on the scene, and evidently a gentleman of some note, aroused the interest of several of the brigands, and they turned to launch themselves at him.
With his teeth gritted, the Commodore blocked a hail of deadly blows, his feet firmly on the ground, and his weaker left hand firing lethal bullets at approaching opponents. But there were so many of them, and he was so tired, and so weakened by the thought of Alicia, and it was not long before he found himself with his back against the wall of Gregory Jones' butcher's shop, his bullets spent and his right arm flagging.
The two men pressing down upon him taunted him in some unknown tongue, showing rotten teeth as they smiled murderously. One lifted his curved, notched cutlass, and Norrington knew he could not raise his arm to block the arc of the looming blade. Time seemed to slow down, and he heard the shouts and jeers of the men as though from far away. It no longer seemed so stupid to have embraced Miss Groves so impulsively, if he were to die here, miserably.
The fatal slash never came. He looked up weakly to see the two men fall mutely to the ground, a short kitchen knife protruding from the breast of each. Standing before the Commodore, breathing heavily, was Captain Gillette. Norrington had never been so pleased to see his trademark grin.
'Perfect timing, Captain,' he gasped.
'Thank you, sir,' replied the other, retrieving his impromptu weapons from the two corpses. 'Good thing they smashed up the hardware store, eh? Never know when you might need a kitchen knife these days…' he smiled again and pulled Norrington up from his slumped stance against the plaster wall.
As he stood, the Commodore realized something was very wrong. He felt faint, and a dull ache was throbbing in his side. Gillette was looking similarly worried.
'I…Captain…I…think I may be injured,' he managed to say more calmly than he felt.
Gillette nodded mutely, staring at the dripping bloodstain on the wall behind the Commodore, and dashed forwards just in time to catch his commanding officer as he fell to the ground, unconscious.
AN: it's never, ever simple, is it? But fear ye not, Norrington will be recovering shortly. I would be the first in line to mop his fevered brow, let me tell you. As I said previously, I hope I can get my sisters to update for me, as I'm off to Italia tomorrow (thank you for all your messages relating to this by the way). If they take the bribe, come back soon for more awkward interaction between the Commodore and Miss Groves. And also angry!Elizabeth. dd xx