On Christmas morning, Elizabeth Swann accompanied her father to church. In all those years, she still hadn't accustomed herself to the climate – she didn't mind it all year, but around Christmas, she found it truly disturbing. She remembered the snowy hills, the blistering cold, the sleigh rides and the Christmas trees of her childhood in England – naturally, Christmas in the Caribbean wasn't anything like that. The only thing that had remained from the rites she had enjoyed so much as a child was the service on Christmas morning, and she was grateful for it. The rest of the year, she wasn't very religious, only when she saw no more other way actually, like in the last few months, but on this particular day, she was dearly looking forward to the sombre atmosphere, the melancholic organ, the solemn air. Even Reverend Martin's otherwise so tiresome sermons appeared like pearls of wisdom on Christmas day in Elizabeth Swann's eyes, and that was saying something!
This morning had brought her the most generous gift her father could have given her, and she was still so stunned with it that she couldn't even feel as happy as she out to be. The Governor had given his promise that he would make over half of his fortune – forty thousand pounds roughly! – to her on her twenty-first birthday, which was only eighteen month ahead of her. This meant that she could marry Will much sooner than expected – once she had overcome his sure remonstrance, of course. She should have danced with joy, but perhaps it was because she was actually overwhelmed with so much of it that dancing was out of question, perhaps she had to get used to the idea before being capable to fully understand the extent of both the gift and the linked felicity, she couldn't say. She would tell Will after the service and see what he was to say. She half hoped that his reaction would match hers; everything else would overtax her recently poor nerves.
The Governor was mildly astonished with his beloved daughter's reaction – he had expected her to be out of herself with happiness. The latest events had killed his last hopes to prevent Elizabeth's marriage to the boy, and he shuddered with his own wish to make her fall in love with Captain Filister. Had he truly wanted to detach her from a decent and good-hearted man for the sake of a scoundrel in disguise? If nothing else, this was enough to convince even Governor Swann that his interference wasn't only useless but downright dangerous. He had seen how concerned his dear child had been in the last time, and it had been his genuine wish to relieve her from some sorrows at last by enabling her and her suitor to be united as soon as possible. Perhaps Will Turner was only a craftsman, but at least they would be able to live adequately with her money, and he did not doubt that the boy would do everything to show himself worthy of her nevertheless. Why Elizabeth was so reserved about all of this now must be unintelligible to him, and he sighed. He had long lost every hope to understand her, but he trusted her judgement more than his own.
She took place next to her father on their usual seats in the left-hand front-row of the chapel, spotting James directly opposite of her and shooting him a smile, next, she also saw Will sitting somewhere further down the aisle. He waved at her, and she nearly would have returned the gesture, but recollecting where she was, she merely smiled and put a finger to her lips to mime him being silent. He nodded instantly, and then, she somehow forgot about him. She was touched as always by the ceremony, faintly musing whether it hadn't caused much devastation among the ancient sailors when the Bethlehem star had appeared in the night skies – perhaps a natural question for a girl who had grown up among Navy officers in a harbour town; and when the Reverend began with his sermon, she folded her hands in silent reverence.
"The incarnation of Jesus Christ was the greatest, the ultimate sign of God's love for his church," he spoke very solemnly, putting emphasise on almost every word, "that we celebrate each year on our Lord's birthday…"
Perhaps no pearls of wisdom this year? She let her eyes wander a bit and scanned the congregation, seeing Henrietta but averting her eyes before this one met her gaze, there was Dr. Jenkins with his wife, over there Rebecca Mason, born Martin, with her little baby daughter that was sleeping soundly with her grandfather's melodious bass… She returned to peek at Henrietta, who looked remarkably well this morning – in fact, Elizabeth meant to have never seen her look so good before. The noble paleness of her porcelain complexion had given way to a soft rosy shimmer, her eyes glowing even brighter – Elizabeth didn't know whether to admire her beauty or envy her. It pained her to think like that – envy Henrietta? She had considered her to be her best friend for more than eight years now, so what had torn them apart after all? What could make her be so malicious when spotting her friend's beauty now? They hadn't met for several months, and if she was honest with herself, she missed her friend excessively. Will couldn't replace her, nobody could. Henrietta looked up in this moment and Elizabeth hurried to observe her own hands.
"The Lord has shown us the meaning of love, of all different kinds of love," Reverend Martin boomed softly, and being her romantic self, Elizabeth resolved to pay some more attention again. "For there are as many different ways to love as there are human beings strolling upon His earth, and only He can know them all. There are the parents who love their children, or the child's love for them. There is the love among friends, among brothers and sisters – just think of all the different words we've found to describe it! There's love, affection, attachment, care, fancy or infatuation, our French brethren say l'amour, the Italians say amore, the Spanish call it amore, too, the Germans named it Liebe – and the Holy Book spelled caritas. It is the greatest of our Lord's mysteries, whatever name you may have for it. And then, there is the love between men and women, coming in even more variations –"
Elizabeth's eyes had trailed back to Henrietta when the Reverend had spoken about the love between friends; this one hadn't looked up but smiled to herself, and for some seconds Elizabeth had wondered whether her friend was thinking of the same like her right now. But when Reverend Martin referred to the 'love between men and women', Henrietta did look up, literally beaming and shooting somebody a delighted smile, and with the most terrible sensation, Elizabeth followed her friend's gaze, finding her worst misgivings confirmed at once. She could see nothing else but James; he was looking into Henrietta's direction from the corner of his eyes, a gentle smirk playing around his lips. A heavy iron load had dropped on Elizabeth, witnessing this silent proof of agreement, and it got only worse when noticing the Lieutenant, who sat next to James, reaching out for that one's hand and pressing it briefly. She would have been appalled with such a demonstration during the Holy service, but she felt too weak for being outraged, indeed, she felt all dizzy and nauseated all of a sudden.
The rest of the ceremony passed by in a haze; Elizabeth couldn't look up only once more; she had to restrain herself not to jump up and run out of the church at once. She would not even have noticed when it was all over, hadn't it been for her father, who pulled her to her feet and asked quietly, "My darling, is something wrong? You're so pale!"
She goggled at him, unable to speak – she hadn't heard his question in the first place.
"Oh dear, you really should drink less coffee! It does you no good!"
She had forgotten that she had intended to speak to Will after the service, even if she had not, she would have been incapable of uttering a single useful word. The carriage took them home; Elisabeth made every use of her fan to conceal her face from her worried father, who seemed to have forgotten about it anyway. But she had not; she was confused and low, everything in her head seemed to be spinning around and she couldn't grasp any rational thought at all. She wouldn't have managed to get into the house if she hadn't clung to her father's arm; he led her to the parlour and left to have a word with Scott, and somewhere in the outskirts of her mind, Elizabeth understood that he wanted to talk to him about coffee or something like that, but she really couldn't be bothered to figure it out just now.
She stared out of the window for hours without focus, feeling insufferably tense without knowing exactly why, tense and worried and unhappy. She tried to tell herself to be calm, but she couldn't. She also tried to think of dear Will, her sweet fiancé, but it would not do, it wasn't cheering her up at all but only increased her uneasiness. The last months had brought much troubles, admittedly, but shouldn't she lighten up now, when it was all over? She needed no longer worry for James, or Jack, even her marriage had drawn near to the foreseeable future. She tried to explore the reasons for her malcontent – was it because of Henrietta?
Yes, she suffered from not talking to this one for so long, but then – she couldn't imagine to reconcile with her either. She had seen that confidential glance between her friend and James, and it pained her beyond expression. James mustn't marry Henrietta, it was evil itself! She knew that she had been unjust against her old friend; basically, Hen had many good qualities, there could be no true doubt about it but… No, she still wasn't good enough for him. She was so cool, so constrained – she'd do him no good!
A nagging suspect was taking hold of her – what woman would ever be good enough for James? What woman could match such excellence, such generosity, such pure superiority of sense and conduct? He wasn't simply, like Henrietta had said so often, a 'smart match' – such a term did him utter injustice, and it was agony to think that any woman regarding him only as a 'smart match', should marry him! He deserved nothing but the most honest affection, the highest regard and unaffected admiration of all his virtues!
She felt utterly sick and went away from the window, letting herself fall into one of the armchairs. But the dizziness would not cease and she covered her eyes with her hands. Jack's words came to her mind; that he had met hundreds of women on his many voyages, that he had fancied himself in love with many of them - but that none had ever affected him like Anamaria. Why did she have to think of that right now?
When there were different kinds of love, which was pretty much the only thing she could remember from Reverend Martin's sermon – wasn't it right to ask that only those people who matched in theirs should marry? Henrietta had so often declared that she could have respect and regard for a man, but surely not more. But James was capable of so much more. He had loved herself once, hadn't he? Hadn't she seen it in his eyes, when he had looked at her? Hadn't all these little gestures and big sacrifices proven it? Although she had been tied to him by honour, he had given her free because he, being so much wiser than herself, had known about these different kinds of love. Oh James, dearest, sweetest, best of all men!
She caught herself with that idea and froze – had she really just thought that? What about Will?! Wasn't he the best of all men? After all, she was about to marry him! She had broken James' heart because of him! That idea worsened her nausea only more and she choked. She had broken his heart because of Will, but now that she was comparing the two of them… Will was wonderful, he was everything, but – compared to James –
Oh Lord! She felt like breaking down with this realisation, and luckily, she was already seated – James! Had she really abandoned the best man in the whole world?! She knew she had, but in this moment, she was simply stunned with her own incredible stupidity, idiocy, cruelty, there was no word to describe it! She remembered all those moments, when she could have known her own heart, but had utterly failed it!
Speaking of different kinds of love; she had fancied Will, she had found him charming and sweet, she had raved about his beautiful brown eyes – but that wasn't love, was it? It was infatuation, and that was something very different from true love, she found all of a sudden. Had she ever held the same regard for him as for James? Why hadn't she noticed when James had become more important to her than Will, than any other person? How could she have been so blind?
Will had been her companion of childhood days, the first real friend after leaving England, when she had felt very much alone indeed. Back then, James had been a grown-up man already, treating her with all due politeness for being the Governor's daughter, but nothing else, of course. Will on the other hand had been just as lonesome as herself, puzzled and shocked by pretty much everything around him in their new environment. He had been there, they had been allies, and when she had read her first romance novels, he had been the only possible target for all gushing that had come with it. This was love in a way, but hadn't the Reverend spoken about love between brothers and sisters? Will was like a brother for her, a very good-looking, sweet and humble brother, but… Now she comprehended her own uneasiness, her idea that it might be good if they didn't hurry to get married. But why – how! – could she have deserted James then? How could she have stuck a dagger into the best of all hearts?!
With a self-knowledge that was more than painful, she knew that she was no patch on him, she had always known, as long at least as being aware that he had loved her. He was still the grown-up man that he had been in her childhood days; he had become Captain with twenty-six – incredibly old from the perspective of a thirteen year-old girl, and when he had been made Commodore at thirty-two, she had still felt not much older than precisely this thirteen year old, playing hide-and-seek with Will and Hen in the gardens, or pirates, or knight and princess, with Henrietta good-naturedly performing the part of either the evil witch or the dragon, because Elizabeth had insisted to be the damsel in dire distress each and every time. To fancy herself in love with Will had been not much more than the idle play of a stubborn little girl that wouldn't want to give up these times of old.
Marrying James would have meant to accept that she had grown up, too, no more running through the gardens, no more irresponsible fooling around. But she hadn't wanted to grow up, to become responsible for her actions, to accept that she couldn't always have everything just her way. She had been aware that she couldn't manipulate James like she had always been able to wrap her father around her finger, or Will in this instance – he wouldn't let her, and she hadn't wanted it either. Her great respect for him had always forbidden her to do so much as try it, and about the only time she had done it, she would forever be ashamed with. He had understood that she was trying to manipulate him, but the point about this business was that it didn't work when the other one had already understood. She had seen it in his eyes back then; he had looked a little amazed – but not because she had agreed to marry him in the first place, but because she had broken their silent rule – and hurt. Very much hurt. In his eyes, she had read that he would eventually have done her the favour, too, if she had properly asked for it, but in his infinite generosity, he had forgiven her still. He had tried to talk to her, but she hadn't given up her act. She neither had told him about the curse, knowing that not even his wish to help her would have been enough to lead his men into certain death – no, it hadn't been blindness, it had been silent consent on his part, consent to rescue a boy from some pirates. He hadn't suspected her to lie to him about the rest, the possibility of a curse, and proving his excellence once more, he had also never scolded her for it after being confronted with the truth.
In this moment, it was knocking on the door, and Scott announced, "Miss Van Dyke has come for you, Miss!"
She gave a start, facing Henrietta, who looked both insecure and happy. She tried her best to recompose, but hardly succeeded, she couldn't but stare at her friend while icy fingers were grabbing for her heart and for her lungs, and she murmured, "Hen –"
"Good afternoon, Lizzy! Are you – aren't you feeling well?"
Lying would be useless, so she whispered, "Not too well, no, but – what brings you here?"
"I had hoped we could talk and sort out whatever you think I have done wrong. Please, I want to reconcile, just tell me what I ought to do! And I have some news to tell you, that might amuse you, I guess – but I can come back later if it's inconvenient…"
"News?"
"Can I get you something, Lizzy?" Henrietta looked apprehensively.
"No, no – what news?"
Panic engulfed her, she tried to breathe even and make a face that at least wouldn't look as horror-stricken as she felt inside. Perhaps it worked, or perhaps Henrietta was only too eager to tell her friend why she had come; in any case, she smiled brightly and started, "You will be very surprised with me, Lizzy, you will laugh at me, I know. I deserve it! I haven't told anybody, I wanted you to be the first one, I wanted to see the look on your face when I confess it. After all I've ever said, about love, or that I should never be a sailor's wife… How foolish I was, Lizzy! I remember well what terrible nonsense I've been preaching! Now I understand what you tried to tell me, about true love, about – are you sure that I really can't fetch you anything?"
Elizabeth shook her head, mouthing, "A sailor's wife –"
"Yes, indeed – oh now I've given it all away already, for you certainly know who I'm talking about anyway! He came to us yesterday evening –"
Elizabeth could take it no more, she jumped up and sprinted out of the room as fast as she could, crying, "Excuse me!" She ran down the stairs and out of the house, out, out, away, she had to get away as far as possible from Hen, who was beaming so happily, who hadn't got a clue how her bearings agonised her friend –
So that's why he didn't have time to dine with them the previous day! James had proposed to Henrietta! It was so horrible, so utterly dreadful – now she got punished for her deeds at last! God was playing his most cruel joke on her! She had almost been Mrs. James Norrington, and she had gambled her luck away, incapable to understand her own heart, or what treasure she had been given once! Now, he loved Henrietta, who was everything that Elizabeth was not, patient, calm, composed and clever. Or did he? Could he truly be in love with her, like he had been with herself? But even if he wasn't, even if he had only asked her to be finally married to a decent woman – he was too much a man of honour to ever break such a bond!
How should she endure it?! Being the Governor's daughter, she'd be forced to see the Commodore and his wife frequently, her own often declared friendship to him obliging her just as much as her old friendship to Henrietta! She had all those scenes in her head, like their wedding – oh Lord, she'd rather be half-dead with pestilence than witnessing James marry another woman! And all the lovely dinner invitations that would take the heart out of her!
She had spoilt it, she had broken it – the world's best heart, it had belonged to her and she had pushed him away! And why? Why?! Because of some silly books that she would never confess to have read at all! Because of her self-will and childishness! Because she had meant her power over him to be so great that he wouldn't simply stop loving her! There was only one person in the world she could be truly happy with, not malcontent like she constantly was with Will, but bridled by honest admiration of his virtues, somebody that she could truly respect, that she could lean onto… And she had destroyed it all!
Another thought darted through her mind – Will! She couldn't marry him! Like she had said so often about James, Will, too, did not deserve to bind himself to a woman loving him less than he loved her! Why hadn't she just seen it sooner, and why must she realise it just in the moment of her greatest loss now?! If the Lord wanted to teach her a lesson, he was a strict, cruel teacher!
She had to talk to Will, and being both restless and desperate enough in this moment, she resolved to go at once. Why wait? It wouldn't be easier tomorrow, and if she was to spend the rest of her days in sheer misery, she could just as well start with it right now. To be true – she had already begun – this morning in the church, she had got the first small taste of how it was going to be for the rest of her life.
She called on Mr. Brown and asked for Will; she had only been there twice before, and Mrs. Brown didn't bother to conceal her astonishment with the unexpected visitor either. She asked her to come in, but Elizabeth forced herself to smile and answer as unperturbed as she could, "No, thank you very much, Ma'am, but it's such a lovely day. I'd like to take a walk. Can you fetch him, please?"
The elderly woman hurried away – one ought not let the Governor's daughter wait – and returned two minutes later with the boy who was her fiancé still, and looking quite like it.
"Elizabeth," he cried merrily, "How charming that you've come! I had meant to see you after the service, but your carriage did come so quickly – I didn't even have a chance to give you your present!"
He fumbled in his pockets, but she said, "Later, Will, later. Please. Come and let's walk a little."
"Of course, my dearest!"
She winced back with that address and he asked her about it, but she only repeated, "Come, let's walk a little!"
They went along the cliffs in silence, she saw that he was getting more and more distressed, so she murmured eventually, "I had to talk to you, Will… I hope you will not take this too badly, but – I'm afraid you won't like it. You won't like just one bit!"
"I shall dislike nothing you could ever say, my dear," he said guilelessly. "Unless of course, you told me that you didn't love me!"
He gave a little snigger with his own remark, clearly waiting for her to join in, but of course, she couldn't. She did not look at him when answering, "But that is exactly the reason why I've wanted to talk to you –"
He laughed a little more. "That you don't love me? Oh well, and I had almost believed you to have some serious business to discuss with me!"
"I am serious, Will," she whispered sadly. She waited for him to say something – anything – for she had absolutely no idea how to go on. She dared not to look over, and was more than slightly shocked when finally hearing his voice that was distorted with pain and helplessness.
"But Elizabeth – but why? What did I do wrong? Just tell me, I – I'd do anything for you!"
"I know," she forced herself to meet his eyes and not wince back with what she saw. He looked agonised. "And believe me, it's got nothing to do with you. You're wonderful, Will, every bit of you, and surely, you've done nothing wrong. But I have done nothing right, I've been wrong all along. I'm sorry to cause you any pain, but I find it better than just go on and pretend I was loving you the same way that you love me, for I do not…"
His eyes were pools of despair, staring at her without so much as a blink, and she quietly went on, "I've been terrible to you, I know, I've niggled and grumbled and reprimanded you for no reason at all, for you had done nothing to deserve it. Too silly to understand my own foolishness, I tried to blame you for my ill humours. All the time, you've thought and laboured so hard only to be with me – it grieves me to think of it. I hope you believe me that I acted with no false pretensions, or ill intentions – I simply didn't know myself…"
"And now you know?" She nodded gravely and he murmured, "Is it because of somebody else?"
She hesitated for some seconds, but resolved not to lie to him. She had never lied to him before and she wouldn't start with it right now. It was the least she could do. "Yes, or rather say – I've realised I do love somebody else, but I won't marry him or anything like that, if that's what you mean."
"Please, you needn't refrain for my sake then," he tried to say as bravely as he could.
She mustered a weak smile, "You think too highly of me, but I'm afraid I'm not that noble. No, he – he's got somebody else, too…"
"It's Jack, right?"
She gaped at him, but he wasn't joking, so she cried, "For heaven's sake, no! Jack?! How can you believe me to – no way!"
He chuckled sadly. "Just a notion… I've always been deadly jealous for that night – when you were marooned with him on that island. Drove me quite mad, you know?"
"But I told you there was nothing!"
"But madness got nothing to do with reason, has it?" He sighed and shrugged. "I suppose I should call on the good Commodore then – we could establish a little club for broken hearts!"
She smiled wryly. "Indeed, I hope you will follow the Commodore's example. He's got over me rather well, I dare say, and found himself a better girl than me!"
"Has he?" But in this moment, realisation was dawning on him, and he groaned, "Oh, I see! Oh! Yes, of course – well, I could have thought of that earlier!"
"Could you? Why?" she asked, alarmed – had she let it shown so openly?!
"Well, the little welcome ceremony when the Challenger returned, for example! To kiss his hand might perhaps have been a bit too much, if one isn't as blind as me… All the 'James here' and 'James there' – so he's found somebody new? But not Miss Van Dyke, after all?"
She nodded silently, and he gave a dry laugh. "Ah – now I also understand why you've been so mad with her all the time!"
"Most likely, yes. But I didn't understand it myself until this morning."
"I'm so sorry." His expression had turned very serious again. "Honestly, I mean it. You've abandoned your true love for my sake, and now you've lost it – I'm truly sorry about that!"
She wanted to interrupt him, tell him that she couldn't endure his sympathy – his anger, hate or disdain, but not his sympathy – but he didn't let her, and continued, "It's all right, Elizabeth. You know, I always found that you'd have made a nice couple. You've kind of matched. I never really understood what you might see in me, and I've always had the highest opinion of the Commodore. I wouldn't have rejoiced from the depths of my heart to see you marry him, but I found him to be the only man worth of you, including myself. It pains me almost as much as losing you to think that I've been the reason for your own aching!"
She had tears in her eyes and whispered, "Thank you – you're a wonderful person, Will…"
"Yes? And so are you, Elizabeth, don't let me hear you say again that he had found a better girl, for there is no better girl than you, not even Miss Van Dyke." He tried to flash her a smile but failed. "You must make some concessions to my pride – at least, I want to be left by the best girl in the world!"
She forced herself to laugh, and following a sudden notion, she quickly embraced him and kissed his cheek. "One day you will make the other best girl in the world incredibly happy!"
"Nah, I've made you unhappy, I don't think I should give it another try!"