The Dark of Night

She positively hated the idea. Henrietta, marry Commodore Norrington?! Preposterous! She was halfway in love with Captain Filister! After all the time and effort Elizabeth had invested into forming this romance, she would not give up on it because of some random remark!

But if it was only a random remark, why even care about it? Perhaps there was more truth to it? Hadn't Henrietta given her an arch look when saying it? Perhaps it had been nothing but a joke? But how inappropriate was it to make jokes in a situation as dire as this!

She would have fretted with the idea for the rest of the day, but her duties as a nurse would distract her well enough. She had to call for fresh ice water almost every half an hour, as the heat outside invaded the house, too, and would warm the water for the compresses until they were of no use. She had closed the curtains to spare her patient from the sun, and when she wasn't changing the cloths, she was waving her fan to bring him some fresh air. Scott had brought her a more comfortable armchair and some books, but she had sent him away again with these, she couldn't concentrate on anything. Instead, she talked to James, informed him about everything he had missed during his absence; the friendly Captain, two balls in the Crown, Reverend Martin had become grandfather for the first time, and mother and child were equally well…

A small town like Port Royal hadn't many issues to offer, and in the evening, she began to talk to him about her schemes concerning the Captain and her friend Henrietta – could he have heard her, she would have blushed and run out of the room. So far, she hadn't acknowledged her plotting to anyone, not even Will, for she was quite embarrassed about it. Another night came, the old doctor paid several visits in between, and by ten o'clock, Estella came in to offer taking over from Elizabeth. She hadn't slept a minute all day, so she agreed after all, but instead of leaving, she made herself comfortable in the armchair next to the bed.

When she woke up in the morning, his state was unaltered, and she cursed under her breath. She sent Estella to fetch her some coffee and toast and lie down herself then, and continued her attentions like she had done the day before. She would make him wake up, she would – Elizabeth Swann wasn't accustomed yielding to anything that her will couldn't conquer, and she was very determined not to start giving up now!

At the same time, and rather coincidentally, Henrietta Van Dyke met Lieutenant Chandler on the sweeps of the Governor's house. He had just paid a visit to inquire after the Commodore, and she was on her way to look after Elizabeth. He apologised to her for his harsh words the other night, and she laughed, "Oh no, Sir! No ill will on my side for that! I could well understand how worried you were, and I know my comment was out of place. I merely thought of Elizabeth – believe it or not, but she is very concerned for the Commodore's well-being!"

"A little late, it would seem, though," he gnarled, but she let it pass. She could easily imagine how worried the young officer was; the Commodore wasn't only his superior, but his friend, and it was only natural that Lieutenant Chandler should be solicitous of his friend's affairs.

In a very different tone, he asked her whether she was in the mood for taking a walk through the lovely gardens, and gladly, she took his offered arm. He had something on his chest, she could well see, and was quite curious to hear what it was.

"You see, Miss," he began after a while, looking for the right words, "I do believe that Miss Swann is worried for the Commodore's sake – who wouldn't be? But I wonder – I have my doubts – look, hopefully, he is to recover soon, and when he opens his eyes, what will he see then? The face of Miss Swann, the face that he could not forget three months on sea – it will be directly before him! He will hear that she has sat up with him day and night, and… Don't you think all of this will endear her even more to him? She is engaged to another man, nothing has changed in this respect. But neither…"

He swallowed hard, and she helped him out, "I suppose the Commodore's feelings for her have not changed either?"

"Yes," he said, half relieved, half anxious to be betraying his friend's sentiments, and to his former fiancée's best friend, too. He lowered his gaze bashfully and proceeded, "I'm afraid that the present arrangements will only inflict more pain on him, and I've wondered – don't you think it would be good to bring him somewhere else, as soon as his state allows transport?"

"But where should that be, Lieutenant Chandler? I've understood that the quarters don't seem fit to treat him!"

"If I had an answer to that question, Miss, I would already have talked to the Governor about it!"

She was silent and they went on, soon talking about other things, the shocking loss of the Dauntless for example. But while chatting so eagerly, a plan was forming in Miss Van Dyke's bright head, and after another round, she asked the Lieutenant to excuse her. She had to speak to her father.

The young man was otherwise engaged, too, so they made their way down to the town together. He mentioned the purpose of his dealings to Miss Van Dyke, assuming that, being Miss Swann's friend, she knew about it already, but she did not. In sheer amazement, she cried out, "Will Turner wants to sign up for the Navy? What makes him think of that?"

"Well, if he wants to marry Miss Swann, he needs to earn some money first, right?"

She hesitated, still perplexed with the idea. "But he is a blacksmith, and as far as I can see, a very good one! Has he talked to Elizabeth about this?"

"If you don't know, Miss, how am I supposed to know then?"

"I don't think it will please her at all," the young woman murmured with a strange sense of premonition. It just struck her as a very unfortunate case of bad timing on the young blacksmith's part to be joining the Navy, while the Head of the fort hadn't yet recovered from the injuries he had sustained in service, being one of only four survivors on total. Knowing Elizabeth…

Yes, Will Turner wanted to join His Majesty's Navy. He had long thought about it, he would also have talked to his beloved Elizabeth, if this one hadn't been so upset the day before. He hadn't found the opportunity, but unlike her friend Henrietta, he had no doubt that she'd approve of it with all her heart. He'd sign up today, and their future together would have drawn a little nearer.

The return of the Commodore and the remains of his crew had created some difficulties among the officers. The problem was that – until Commodore Norrington's factual return, Captain Filister had been his official deputy, and Lieutenant Gillette the second-in-command. In a case of illness or other incapability of doing service, Lieutenant Chandler was to represent the Commodore. Nobody within the fort was absolutely sure what precedence was now in place, with the highest rank incapacitated, the second highest at least in theory relieved, and the two next ranks equal in factual rank, but disliking each other strongly, with Gillette as unwilling to submit to Chandler as vice versa.

This was the reason why young Will Turner could not finally sign up for His Majesty's service, much to his disappointment and displeasure. He had believed that he could visit Elizabeth this evening and reveal the happy news, and that the delight that this must inevitably give her would lighten her up. Little did he know that, as unsatisfied he was with this delay, as lucky he was considering Elizabeth's opinion on it. She heard about it in the afternoon; Estella had taken over shift again, and her mistress could be persuaded to leave the room for an hour, and talk to her fiancé.

He was beaming when he told her, enhancing that it could only be a matter of days – a week, utmost – until the confusion in the fort would have been sorted out, so that he could, at last, become a soldier and thus, be capable of affording to marry her in five years, in all probability… At first, he was oblivious to her increasingly darkening features. But he could no longer ignore the lady's dismay when she jumped at him, "You will do no such thing! What a wretched idea!"

"But Elizabeth –"

"No! If you want to see an example of what's in store for an officer serving His Majesty, all you have to do is follow me upstairs!"

He was baffled, having expected no objection but praise in abundance, downright delight in fact, and he murmured, somewhat deflated, "I thought you'd be pleased!"

Her eyes were sparkling dangerously. "Pleased?! I'm already smashed with nursing an old friend, what do you think would happen if I saw you in such a state?!"

"It won't come to that – Elisabeth, my love, please listen –"

"No!"

"But you said yourself that it is a good thing!"

"As you could already have noticed, my first opinion on things is mostly the wrong one! I take it back! Absolutely – I should hate to see you become a sailor, I should have no more quiet night for the rest of my life!"

"But I want to marry you, and how –"

"There will be another way then!"

"Elisabeth, I –"

He tried to convince her, she flatly refused to listen, and not before long, she sent him away. They had never argued before, and while Will was out of himself with distress, Elizabeth was plainly vexed and cross with him. For the first time, she could understand Henrietta's long-standing vow not to marry a sailor. What a sensible woman she was! How could Elizabeth have ever mocked her? And how silly had she been for ever proposing such a thing?

Will at sea – it was so terrible that she could have screamed! She stormed back into her room, now James Norrington's sickroom, and Estella looked up in bewilderment.

"You are very quick, Miss –"

"Yes, it was a very quick visit indeed!" She was still foaming with rage and let herself fall into her armchair, snatching the fan from the chambermaid and furiously waving it over poor James' head. "You can leave, Estelle. I'll call for you if I need you!"

Poor James! Here he was, closer to death than to life, and her crazy fiancé could think of nothing better than joining the King's Navy, was it possible?! Had 'poor James' been awake, he might have winced back with her treatment, that was bordering on violence. The compresses she made next were still dripping with ice water, and she wrapped them so tightly that it must have hurt. Some drops of water were running down from his forehead over his cheeks, and checking herself, she took a handkerchief and with much gentler moves, she wiped them away. Thinking about it, she dipped the tissue into the cold water, and carefully began to wash his face, his neck, his hands and his arms, and when she had finished, she made some new compresses for his calves, chest and forehead, calmer now, at least in her movements, and determined not to increase poor James' suffering only because dear Will behaved like a fool. She took up the fan again and waved with it, sighing with anger and worry and helplessness.

In that moment, Commodore James Norrington opened his eyes for a moment, shutting them in the next, but she had seen it nevertheless and jumped up with excitement. "James?"

He did not answer, but this didn't matter too badly; he had opened his eyes, and if he opened them once, he would do so again, and… – She was out of herself with relief and joy, increasing her efforts still; she made Estelle bring fresh water, and the girl was almost as delighted as her mistress with the progress. Elizabeth told her to go to bed, since she surely would not leave this room again anyway until he had opened his eyes once more!

But in this night, he didn't move again, and Elizabeth's elation evaporated slowly. Could this have been a mere reflex? Or perhaps her own strained eyes had betrayed her…? Almost tenderly, she stroked some strands of hair from his temple, once more bemused to see that it was dark brown, much darker as her own in fact. He wore the obligate white wigs almost as long as she had known him; had somebody asked her about his colour of hair, she would probably have answered 'white' at first, before remembering that it was fake. The dark waves suited him well, she found; why would all these officers hide their good looks behind layers of brocade, powdered wigs and plainly silly triangular hats? This reminded her of Will's incredibly smart plan of becoming one of them too, and her anger returned with might. She wouldn't admit to anyone how tired she was, exhausted by lack of sleep, her great worry, and lately her argument with Will as well, and she found that it was all a bit too much.

"Wake up," she whispered softly and pressed his motionless hand. "Wake up, James… If you have ever loved me just a little bit, you must wake up –"

Well, she'd better not measure his old love by his reaction, for he was as motionless as he'd ever been since he had been brought to this house, and Elizabeth in all her confusion could no longer suppress the tears. She wept in silence, pressing his hand, stroking it softly.

"I know, James," she muttered under her breath, "It's all been my fault. Everything was my fault. I've been horrible to you, in each and every aspect – but look, if you want to punish me for my wretched behaviour, think of something else, please. Don't you die under my hands… You've always been the grown-up between us two, so perhaps you have forgotten what it means to be only eighteen – though I guess you never misbehaved, no matter how old you were… Look, James, I won't bear to have it on my conscience to have killed you, for the rest of my life, and that's still a pretty long time, I hope!"

No response, of course – and she gave a low sigh.

"You have a very good friend there, you know that? That Lieutenant Chandler, he – well, don't think he was any polite to me, he was not – but I don't deserve his friendliness either. He comes twice a day, every day, to ask for you, but he won't talk to me, only to my father. He thinks I'm a spoilt child, and perhaps he's even right… No, he is right. Nobody ever dares to criticise the daughter of Governor Swann, just like nobody would dream of criticising him. You've always been much too kind to do so. Don't think I was ignorant of your merits, James! All my father's pomp and glory never made me forget that it's not Governor Swann who made this place respectable – it's been you, and you alone! I have not forgotten. Why have you always been so modest, James? Because frankly, you needn't be! I meant every word of what I've said that day on the Dauntless – the Dauntless, good Lord! – anyway, I did not lie to you. I want you to know that! You must know that! I cannot endure the idea that you could die thinking ill of me!"

She gave him so earnest a glance as if he could actually have seen her, praying that he might hear at least some of her entreaties.

"You are a fine man, James, you're one of the best persons I've ever met with. You are everything that any woman should dream of marrying. I am the idiot, you know? You've been simply too good and nice and benevolent to realise that. Honestly, you should rejoice that you got rid of me – I'm a troublesome creature, I know… Just yesterday, I gave poor Will such a hard time, only because he wants to join your fleet, only to afford it marrying me."

She clasped her mouth, wide-eyed. "Oh, forgive me – I shouldn't talk to you about Will! Oh, how thoughtless of me! Sorry! I'm so sorry, James! Anyway, what I really wanted to say is that you ought to be glad to have escaped me. Really. You deserve to be happy, James, and I doubt that I have it in me to make anybody truly happy. I'm good for nothing, I don't even make a useful nurse, otherwise you would be better, wouldn't you… Dear Hen, she is a good nurse, she made her mother recover from a heavy case of pneumonia. Yet I'm too selfish to let her nurse you. It's been my fault, and I'm the one to make up for it… You know who brought you here? Not to our house, to Port Royal, I mean – it's been Jack Sparrow, can you believe it? I hadn't meant him to be capable to do anything that doesn't serve himself in the first place! What makes me the worst egoist in this part of the world now, right?"

She let go of his hand and changed the compresses once more, still crying softly, and when she finished, she reached for his hand again. "What hands you've got – oh dear. These are no sailor's hands! You should play the piano, you know? I've never asked you, I don't know why I've never asked you – have you learnt to play? I'm sure you have. And then you've exchanged the sonatas for the shanties, England's green pastures for the blue of the Caribbean Ocean. And what did you get for it? Nothing but trouble, war and a broken heart… Are you homesick sometimes? Will you return to England one day? You've got wake up for that first, you know? Oh James, when will you wake up… I'd do anything in my power only to hear your voice again! And poor Lieutenant Chandler – if you don't want to be doing it for me, do it for him. He's been a great friend to you, he swam miles and miles with you on his back. Do you even know that? I'll be forever indebted to him for doing this!"

She smirked lopsidedly. "I've heard they have some trouble down in the fort – you must wake up, go down and sort it out, see? And reward Lieutenant Chandler – oh God, if I imagine that he had returned without you! I should have never been happy again! You must also reward him for scolding me, I really mean it – he's a good man, almost as good as you. And Gillette is giving him a hard time, I've heard. Gillette is a fool, but you know that anyway. I'm glad that it wasn't him that you've appointed for the Dauntless – he wouldn't have rescued you. Oh, smart as you are, that's probably why you've taken Chandler to begin with, right? Dear James, what can I do? You just don't want to wake up! I can understand that you must be tired after all of this, but can't you wake up for half an hour, just to tell me that you're all right, and eat a little bit? I leave you in peace then, you can sleep on then – just open your eyes for some minutes and speak to me, please!"

She pressed his hand and shook it carefully, wiping her own tears away with her free hand. It was hopeless, he could not hear her, but she simply couldn't stop talking, what else was there for her to do?

"I've prayed every free minute for you, dear. But the Lord is angry with me, and rightfully so, I guess. I deserve to be punished, I just don't think that He should take it out on you! But then – I have no right to blame Him, I know. Listen to me, how I'm talking, accusing the Lord where I have only myself to blame! It's been a miracle that you've survived, that Jack has found you, and good Doctor Jennings said your fever has become a little better… I only lack patience, I guess that's all. Poor Chandler is worrying for you much longer, and look at him, how patient he is. That's just me again, selfish and impatient… And utterly careless for anybody's feelings but my own, which is the worst of all – I shall better myself, James, I promise! If only you'll wake up, then you'll see how much I'm trying to change! Please, give me just one look, a smile – you've hardly ever smiled at me, you know that? But why should you, I never gave you much reason to smile, did I? How could you ever fall in love with me? Really, I don't understand that – I've been nothing but terrible to you! Perhaps I was civil sometimes, but who wouldn't be civil to you? That is no merit. Only a benevolent person like you could be so good as to see any merit in me."

It was in the darkest hour of night when Elizabeth found no more words to speak. He hadn't heard anything what she had said, but it made her feel better still, if only a little. The fan in her left, his hand in the other, she had fallen silent, observing his face that would not move, no matter what she did. The bed torch next to her was flickering, throwing moving shadows against the walls – if only he would move as well! She would ask for nothing else.

Perhaps it were her desperate prayers, perhaps something else, but sometime in the dark hours, by some divine miracle to be sure, she saw a small twitch around his eyes, and her heart missed some beats.

"James? James? Oh Lord, make him hear me, make him – James?"

And indeed – his lips were moving, and she didn't know whether it was only her own imagination, but she thought she saw his lips form a mute 'Elizabeth', though she could be mistaken. "James!" she cried, squeezing his hand too tightly, but she could impossibly notice that right now –

Slowly, she saw him open his eyes, he blinked, she cried his name over and over again, he turned his head a little to the side and seemed to recognise her, whispering, "Elizabeth…?"

She would thank the Lord on her knees, but later, only later, right now she couldn't think for any other thing than this, she kissed his hand in gratitude and her heart felt like bursting with joy. "Oh James! Dearest, dearest James!"

She didn't know what to do, where to begin with, suddenly anxious that she could worsen his state if she made a mistake now, so she merely pressed his hand, stroked over his cheek with the other, alternately addressing 'dearest James' and the 'Holy Lord' and bestowing both with an equal amount of praise and thanks.

James Norrington on the other hand was thoroughly incapable to grasp where he was, or what was happening with him, the only thing he could recognise was the thrilled face before him – Elizabeth, dearest, sweetest Elizabeth – was this a dream? Was he dead? He faintly thought that his head was aching too badly to be dead, but he had no better idea either. "Elizabeth," he whispered again, "What – where –"

The lady in front of him was too excited to give any further particulars that could be of use for anyone; she covered his hands with kisses, giving the good Commodore the notion that this was a dream after all. She asked a dozen questions all at once. Did he want water? Food? The doctor? What on earth could she do for him?

He was a good deal overtaxed with all of this, it was far more than he could handle, and he passed out again. But this time, Elizabeth did not despair, he had been awake, he had recognised her, he had spoken – he would do so again, he would be better! She only needed to wait, and the next time, she'd be better prepared!

And so it came. He regained consciousness two or three times more before the break of dawn, only to sink again in the next moment, but the intervals became shorter, his wake moments longer, and Elizabeth had managed to get sufficient grip on herself to be able communicating some important bits to him. That he had been heavily injured – he was in the Governor's house – he had not opened his eyes for two weeks – Elizabeth Swann was the world's happiest creature. So much he could grasp from her words, and now, though in a daze yet, he slowly understood and felt the life returning to his limp body. He knew Elizabeth for half her life, but most certainly, he had never seen her like this, she was positively out of herself, and he had to smirk with so much vigour.

"You smile!" she cried triumphantly, "I begged the Lord to make you smile, and you do!"

He couldn't make the connection between anything he did and such outburst of joy in front of him, but it didn't matter, he could ask later for everything he didn't comprehend now. The only thing important in this minute was to see her, his dearest, mostly beloved Elizabeth, and some dark memory gave him the notion that he had been deadly sure to never be allowed setting his eyes on her again. But there she was, stroking his cheeks, his forehead, his hands, urging him to sip some water, and he let everything happen with him, too weak to oppose, far too much confused, and in fact, also too happy. Whatever it was that made Elizabeth care for him like this, it couldn't be such a bad thing.

Not long, and an eager Governor, an apt chamber girl, and fifteen minutes later, an experienced doctor where all around him, but Elizabeth stayed, quarrelling with the doctor and refusing to go, and summoning all his strength to increase the volume of his voice so far that he could be heard by the combatants, James pleaded to leave her stay, old Doctor Jennings shrugged and Elizabeth gesticulated behind his back to show her approval, and again, James couldn't but smile. What on earth was she doing there?

In eighteen years, Elizabeth Swann hadn't lived a morning so utterly filled with joy. She checked herself – no, it was true; in the night of Barbossa's defeat she had believed to have lost Will, the day of this one's declaration of love had been tinged with uneasiness for hurting the Commodore. This morning had no such drawbacks, utter felicity governed her heart and spirits, and only hard effort kept her from singing and dancing around with happiness. James had woken up!

However, like always on occasions like that, her luck wouldn't last for too long. Around noon, her father came back, accompanied by Henrietta and the good Lieutenant, and what she had meant to be a party of well-meaning friends turned out to be a bunch of underhanded scoundrels.

"We've talked about everything," Governor Swann said with his habitual cheerfulness, "As soon as Doctor Jennings gives his consent, we shall bring you to the Van Dykes, Commodore!"

"What?!" Elizabeth stared at her father in nonplussed disbelief.

"Everything is taken care of," Henrietta continued unmoved, smiling at the patient and ignoring her appalled friend. "My parents are most happy to welcome you, Commodore –"

"Have you all run mad?!"

"Elizabeth, please tone down your voice!"

"Tone down? I will do no such thing, Father, what are you all talking about?! Take him away from here? But why?"

The four entirely forgot about the patient and began to row, well, actually it was only Elizabeth scolding and yelling, while the others tried to calm her. Henrietta, knowing best how to handle her old friend, finally convinced her to leave the Lieutenant have a short word with the Commodore alone, dragging her out of the room. In the hallway – Elizabeth would go no further away than that – she had to listen to a quiet, but nonetheless urgent appeal from Miss Van Dyke. She should be reasonable, she was told, everybody acknowledged what she had done for the good Commodore, but she would do him no favour when insisting to let him stay – she ought to take care of his feelings, and being nursed by her would not gratify them –

She couldn't really deny the truth of Henrietta's words, and like everything that this woman would ever utter, it was nothing but reason and sense. Elizabeth learned that the Lieutenant, her father and Henrietta had discussed the matter for the greatest part of the morning when she had attended to dear James, and since Henrietta, knowing her so very well, would enhance just the right points, Elizabeth couldn't but surrender in the end. Nevertheless, she was mad with them all; moderation was not in her temper. She was sulking, her arms crossed and glaring at her unhappy father and determined friend, the former most upset to quarrel with his beloved daughter, but the latter quite unimpressed. Henrietta Van Dyke wasn't easily intimidated, even less by one of her best friend's fits – she loved her very well, but sometimes, Elizabeth simply behaved like a child.

Elizabeth was very vexed, and scowling at Henrietta now, she recollected her words from the other day – Hen wouldn't refuse an offer of marriage from the Commodore, she had declared – oh, so that was where the wind was blowing! Smart and cunning Miss Van Dyke, how well she had arranged all of this! She wanted to be the future Mrs Commodore and would stop at nothing to achieve her aim! Serpent! Nourishing betrayal in her bosom and disguising it as mindfulness!

"Now I see," Elizabeth hissed deadly, ""What a well conceived plan, Henrietta!"

The accused replied slightly bored, "I don't think you understand anything at all right now, my dear, but I trust that you will in time. Calm down, for goodness' sake!"

"No, no, I see right through you!"

"I dare say you will see much clearer once you've taken a good long nap, Lizzy. You've had a hard time. But I beseech you nevertheless to consider what's best for the Commodore!"

Elizabeth found that she was the only one around, with the possible exception of her clueless father, who had nothing but James' best interest at heart, and this was the only reason why she would bend to Miss Van Dyke's treacherous scheming. The whole world was conspiring against her, everybody who she had meant to be her friend was plotting to destroy her happiness! Henrietta here – how well she remembered all her speeches now, how smart a match the good Commodore Norrington was, and Will – seeking to make a fortune for the expense of her peace of mind! Perhaps the Lieutenant, whom she believed to be James' true friend after all, had let himself be blinded by Henrietta's sly talking, and as for her own father – oh well! He never had an opinion of his own, he was always ruled by whoever it was he was speaking to!

Talking of the Lieutenant – he came back to them now, his face showing genuine relief, and Elizabeth was willing to regard him as the only intrinsically good person in the hallway at present. It was resolved that they would wait for Doctor Jennings, who was to come again in the afternoon, and until that, nothing but the devil himself would have driven the furious Miss Swann out of the sickroom again.

She let herself fall into the armchair again and mustered all her strength to give dear James a smile that wouldn't betray her sorrows. "But how are you, James?"

"It would be a lie if I claimed that I had never been better." He smiled in return. "But most certainly, I've never been luckier and that's something, isn't it?"

"Oh James… I can't say how glad I am to see you like that! I mean – not like that of course, but that you will recover and –" She shook her head with herself, biting her tongue. It all came out quite wrong!

"I have to thank you, Elizabeth. You've been incredibly kind, everything you've done for me. I'm forever indebted to you."

"Nonsense! How can you say that! You're welcome anytime, although I rather have you not so ill ever again!"

He chuckled quietly but winced back with the pain in his head; she jumped up and grabbed the cloth to wipe his forehead with all care, murmuring, "You mustn't laugh, James. By all means you must avoid everything that could harm you –" She thought of the prior argument in the hallway, of Henrietta's urgings to be considerate of poor James' feelings, and despite the slight pangs of a guilty conscience, she went on like before. "I've prayed to see you smile, James, but I suppose I shall better wait some longer, for now, you must be very careful!"

"Thank you as well for your prayers then. So how are you? You look weary –"

She could impossibly tell him what was on her mind and shrugged. "I'm only a little tired. It'll pass."

"Oh yes… You shall be relieved of your care soon, I'm sure that Doctor Jennings will agree that I'm already so much better than I can be moved. I'm sorry to have called on your hospitality for so long."

He couldn't know it, but nothing he might have uttered could have affronted her more. "Don't say that, James! You must not say that! You must now how welcome you are in this house!"

"And I thank you for your kindness."

"Stop being so formal, James! It was my pleasure – pleasure isn't the word I was looking for, obviously – but I want you to really know how welcome you are! I wouldn't have allowed anybody else to look after you…"

She couldn't deny that by now, her spirits had weakened so far that no matter what she wanted to say, she was incapable of expressing herself in an intelligible way. She had to content herself with patting his arm in silence, and wipe his forehead every now and then, dreading Doctor Jennings' return. Surely, he was part of the conspiracy and would give his permission to bring poor James away, into the arms of that woman that Elizabeth had thought to be her friend for many years now, but who was in fact nothing but a calculating fortune seeker! He deserved something better than that! He deserved a woman feeling true affection for him! Not someone who wouldn't even stop from manipulating the old physician, or the unwitting Governor in order to achieve her aims. Oh, Elizabeth had seen right through her!