Norrington sat back in the carriage and studied the face of the young woman who sat before him. She was pregnant, and not by him. Why did Robert not tell him? How would he hid the woman's growing condition from spying eyes? His brow furrowed. Well, he was to marry this woman, child, or no. Better to lay down the groundwork of their life together now, that she should "cry rape" again.

"This is quite shocking news to me, Miss Baird." He spoke softly, his faced turned to the window of the carriage. From the corner of his eye, he saw her watching him, and her face pale. "We will not postpone the wedding."

"And my child?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice.

He cocked his head to the side, and turned to look her in eyes. "I have not decided." He cleared his throat.

She sighed. "Will you ask to hear the whole sordid tale, Commander Norrington? Or should I tell you now, so that you may fume over the "situation" even more?" She was venomous now, her body ridged as a statue. Her face flushed. "I wish my father had told you so you would have been better prepared."

He raised an eyebrow. "Prepared? I was prepared to be a husband, Miss Baird. Not the laughing stock of Port Royal. Nor was I prepared to take another man's bastard." His words were biting, cutting deep into her.

She was silent, her face turned toward the windowpane. A single tear ran down her cheek.

"Make no mistake, Miss Baird. I will not have an unfaithful wife, nor will I brook any disobedience. I take it that it is too late for a termination. Yes, I see. Well, you will have to carry the child to term. Those in Port Royal will know the child is not mine, and their tongs will wag. I cannot change that. You will have your child, and you will be a submissive wife." He voice was cold. "I do not wish to hear of your so-called cry, Miss Baird."

She leaned back in her seat. "You do not believe me, then?"

"It is rare that a woman cries rape in Port Royal. Those who talk will know that you have been with a man, and they will not care in which way."

"But do you believe me?"

"I have been slighted by women before, Miss Baird. I am not inclined to believe much of what comes from their delectable lips."

"Will you claim this child?"

"Do I have a choice? If I do not, then those who know me well will question my judgment."

She sighed. "Thank you Commodore."

"Do not thank me yet, little girl. I do not jest when I tell you I will brook no disobedience from you, or your child. You will do as you are told, and you will ask permission before conducting yourself in any social activities."

She looked at him, her eyes piercing. "Will you take away my quill and my parchment?"

"You can write?"

"And read. My father did not raise me ignorant of education."

"So I gather from your words, Madam."

The carriage stopped before a large, but imposing home, overlooking the sea. They both sat quiet as the driver jumped down from the seat and opened the door. Norrington emerged first, and then held out his hand to his bride-to-be.

The house was painted white, black trim around the windows and the second story balcony. It was not grand, but it was imposing. The white washed wood looked not worn but fresh, as if newly pressed.

"Welcome to my home, Miss Baird. This is where I reside, when not at sea. And this is where you will claim residence. The gardens are in the rear, and the sea is laid out in front, and can be viewed from most windows. Also, there is a pier, but you are not to go alone, under any circumstances." He turned and took hold of her elbow. "Though here is the atrium, which has not been well attended." He gestured to a set of double doors. "The dinning room is through there, and the kitchen directly behind it. Do not go in there, least Madam Marks get her claws into you." He pulled her arm, propelling her to a set of rooms behind the stairs. "That is my personal office," he said, quietly. "Do not go in there for any reason." Leading her up the stairs, he noticed the slight frown that marred her brow. "Miss Baird, do not have fear that you will be confined to our bedroom or sitting-room alone. I merely wish for you to understand where I do not wish for you to go." With that, the reached the top stair and he proceeded down the hall. He stopped at the second door on the right. "This is the nursery, which will have to be ready sooner than expected of course." He opened the door to revile a room with little paint and no furnishings. "I'm afraid that the prior owners of this home did not have any use for the room. Neither did I, until now."

"Please, continue." She tried to not let him see how his words, not matter how off handed they were meant to be, hurt her.

"There are a few guest rooms, and the larger double doors at the end is our bedroom." He took her elbow again and propelled her through the white, ornate doors.

The room was furnished for a man. It was sparse, but with grand furniture that seemed to be older than time. The bed alone was wooden with marble inlay. The bed lay facing the east, as if to watch the sunrise through the terrace French doors. The mattress was feather down, of that she was certain, as it rose above the edge of the bed and seemed to puff outward. The bed was adorned with a white bedspread, not fancy in nature, but when placed on a bed such as this, it seemed grand. A Cedar chest sat at the edge of the bed, locked.

She moved forward, acutely aware of him standing in the entranceway. "Its lovely." She said, taking in the white walls and glossy curtains over the six windows that stood within the room. "The light, it must be beautiful in the morning." She didn't hear him grunt in reply, but continued to walk through the room. A chest-of-drawers was set up on the west wall, directly beside an open doorway. The sitting room, she guessed. Her belongings sat near the door as well.

Jacqueline took off her hat, holding it down to her side. Her hair was still tucked up into a common French braid.

Norrington walked passed her, taking off his formal over-coat. "It suits. I enjoy waking up at dawn with the ability to see the morning sun." He motioned for her to sit on the bed. She obeyed, watching as he went to a small shelf off to the west side of the room, and poured a drink. "Brandy?" he asked, turning to face her. Jacqueline shook her head.

"Commodore—."

"James, Jacqueline. My name is James, if we are to be married."

"James, then. Please, tell me how we are to proceed."

"Proceed? To the church, I suppose. We are not having any time away afterwards."

"I meant, how do we proceed after we marry?"

Norrington scoffed. "You were never taught the birds and the bees, Jacqueline?"

Jacqueline bounded off of the bed, her face flushed in anger. "I do, sir, understand my place as your wife. My question is; what will you request of me?

He took of his white wig, revealing a head of dark hair, cut moderately close to his head. "All the duties of a wife. To never lie, nor keep secrets from me. To raise my children and represent my name to the best of your abilities." He took a drink, seeming to have softened toward his new wife-to-be. "What are you wearing to the wedding, Jacqueline?"

"I am wearing one of my best." She sat down again, feeling like a pulpier for the first time in her life.

"That will do for now. We will set upon ordering you a new wardrobe soon."