A Line In The Sand
Chapter Three
James thought of her often out in the open sea with only the miserably, accusatory thumping heart for company. He thought of her dark curling hair and soft blue eyes. He thought of that smile, that look she got when she gazed at him. A look she had always had, one of adoration. He wondered vaguely whether Will had ever noticed. He himself had only just registered its existence.
Aboard the ship taking him back to Port Royal, he thought of the lost expression on her face when Will had stumbled ashore and said that he had met their father aboard the Dutchman. She had stepped back, away from her brother, her mouth falling open. He realised now that she had stepped towards him.
And when he lay down at night, he heard her screaming his name, the sobs catching the long howl as he ran away from her. She was in mourning.
When he tossed the heart on Beckett's desk, he thought everything was going to be all right again.
"Is that enough to buy me a commission as a privateer?" he asked, thinking of a small ship of his own. Thinking of a First Mate with curly brown hair and an adoring gaze.
"Oh, I think we can do better than that," Beckett stood up and James's lip curled involuntarily as he looked down at the small man. Beckett's hand, when he offered it to James, was tiny, lost in James's long fingered grip.
"Miss Turner. Lieutenant James Norrington, at your service..."
"Admiral Norrington has rather a nice ring to it, don't you think?" Beckett said in his slow, measured way. "There is an old friend of yours, just there, on the sideboard."
James recognised the box at once. He remembered placing his sword, along with his letter of resignation in the hands of a merchant who he had met once or twice in Port Royal. The man, stunned to see the Commodore in such a place as Tortuga, had refused the little money James was able to offer him. It would seem the man had been trustworthy, for here was his sword, completely intact.
He whirled it through the air, and then laid it on his forearm, the tip only inches away from the heart.
"On your command, sir," he said.
"Oh no, no," Beckett said, waving a hand lazily. "Why would I want you to do that? You see, Admiral, whoever has the heart, rules the sea."
It was when Beckett said that, that James realised he had betrayed the only woman he had ever really loved.