Here it is: another chapter. I have been revising previous chapters and decided that I really didn't like Helena's last name, so it has now been changed to Eaton. Otherwise, everything should be as you left it. Have fun!
"Philip, if you pace any longer you're going to wear a track in the floor!"
The baronet stopped to glare at Arthur Huntingdon, who was seated in the desk chair in Philip's quarters, where the two had met to discuss their plan of action.
"I would like to see you sit still if it were your brother –" he stopped abruptly, suddenly remembering to whom he spoke. Arthur did indeed know the pain of losing a brother. He turned away.
"We need to speak to the Turners," he said, raking a hand through his hair. Philip's hair was not as dark as his brother's; indeed the two scarcely resembled each other except about the eyes and chin. At the moment, however, a distinctly James-ish frown marred the elder Norrington's handsome features; he began to pace again.
"We won't have much time. Buffington is bound to have us watched while we're here; he's behind this, mark my words. And if the Turners have any information at all, we can't have them finding out…" Arthur stirred suddenly; Philip stopped. He knew the look on the younger man's face; it usually meant trouble. "What have you got in mind?" he asked warily.
Arthur Huntingdon was a shrewd man. He had become the Earl of Northampton just five years ago, his father having died prematurely from a wasting disease, and he had become in very short order a force to reckoned with in Court. He was shorter than Philip by a good two inches and was possessed of his mother's eyes, dark orbs that saw everything. He had, while Philip had been pacing the room, been observing the unnatural thickness of the wall between his room and Philip's; a closer examination proved what he had suspected. There was a passage there; whether it had been built for spying or for the servants' use was unclear, but it was there nonetheless, he was sure. He grinned slowly.
"They'll have me watched. You however… I think you're going to become very unreasonable about the whole business. You'll stay in your rooms; you'll eat sparsely and refuse to discuss the matter. I'll be leading the spies on a wild goose chase while you…" here he got up and walked over to the wall in question. He narrowed his eyes and pressed firmly on some unseen lever. "You will be heading the investigation." The door swung open, revealing a narrow corridor which was full of dust and which led, from all appearances, downward and toward the kitchens. Arthur nodded in satisfaction while Philip gaped. "Care to pay a visit to the Turners?" the young Earl asked with a smirk.
A few inquiries brought them to Brown's smithy; the ringing of metal on metal confirmed Will Turner's presence. Philip pounded firmly on the door, aware that the noise would not otherwise be heard; the clanging stopped. There was a moment of silence before the door was wrenched open.
"For the last time-" Will started, expecting soldiers. He stopped abruptly when he saw the two lords standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry," he stammered, flushing slightly. "I thought – please come in." Arthur smiled tolerantly and passed him into the shop; Will frowned slightly. There was something about this man he recognized, perhaps his eyes or the way he moved. He couldn't quite place it; he stored the information away for later.
"How can I help you, my lords?" he asked politely, observing the fine clothes that both wore. Philip regarded him very seriously.
"You can tell me where my brother is, to start," he said. It was a hunch, no more, but his suspicions were confirmed when Will twitched slightly.
"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, my lord," he replied, frowning. He had a feeling, certainly; Philip's eyes, unlike Arthur's, were almost unmistakably the same as James's.
"Perhaps we should start with introductions," Arthur suggested. "I am Lord Huntingdon, the Earl of Northampton. My anxious friend is Sir Philip Norrington; as you can imagine, he's a little worried just now." Will hesitated.
"There is no one listening," Arthur reassured him. "We made sure of that before coming here." Will frowned. It was all very well for Huntingdon to say that, he thought, but he did not know either of these lords; he had never heard that any high-ranking members of the court were particularly loyal to their own kin.
"I'm sorry, my lords, but I truly have no idea where Commodore Norrington is right now," he answered firmly. Arthur seemed caught between exasperation and admiration; Philip merely looked frustrated.
"No one else could have helped him out of that cell," the elder Norrington sibling insisted, intense now. "No one else has even bothered to protest this… farce. I am no fool, Mr. Turner; where is James?" Something about the way he said all of this must have convinced Will; he could see the younger man relax ever so slightly. The blacksmith looked between the lords one moment longer before nodding wordlessly.
"He is safely off this island; that is all I can tell you for now. I didn't ask where they were headed." Philip breathed a silent sigh of relief; James was safe.
"James is fortunate to have friends like you," Arthur observed. Will ducked his head, acknowledging the praise.
"Please, sit down," he murmured, slightly embarrassed. Arthur was the first to accept the invitation; he sat with an easy grace, making the step on which he sat seem like a king's throne. Once again Will wondered where he had seen this man before, or someone like him. Philip moved a little more stiffly; traces of his brother were visible in the way he held himself. He was clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
"Mr. Turner – " Will started slightly, realizing that he had been studying Lord Huntingdon's features in an attempt to place them. "Is there something?" Arthur asked, half exasperated.
"I'm sorry – you just… never mind. Please-" Will stammered.
"We are trying to clear my brother's name. To that end we will need all the information we can get about James's activities in these past few months; if someone wants him dead, we need to know why before we can find out whom," Philip said seriously. Will frowned.
"I don't know much – he's the Commodore and I'm the blacksmith. I know he's been gone from Port Royal a few times in the last months – I'm not sure where he's been going, though. You might try some of his lieutenants or his office – not Gillette. He told me before he left that Gillette is working for whoever set him up." Philip stared incredulously.
"His own men have betrayed him?" he asked. The situation was looking more and more bleak. One crooked lieutenant, now Captain, others with questionable loyalties, an uncooperative Governor, and the two Buffingtons, who would doubtless find a way to deny them access to James's office until all potentially useful information had been destroyed.
"That's what he said," Will replied. He looked nervously toward the door. "You had better go, my lords," he said. "You'll be missed before long…" Philip grasped desperately at one last straw.
"Might your wife know anything? I'm told that she and James were on good terms." Will's frown lifted.
"She may. You'll have to ask her another time… it's been nearly an hour, Sir Philip, they're bound to come looking soon." The nobleman nodded; he extended his hand.
"You've been a great help, Mr. Turner. I'll be back the day after tomorrow to speak with your wife." Will smiled slightly.
"Please call me Will. If we're going to work together, you may as well." Arthur smiled.
"And it's Arthur and Philip. Good day, Will." With that they were gone, heading back up the hill towards the Governor's mansion.