Chapter 3

As Lizzie and I slowly make our way down the steps, we can hear Father and our guests already in the dining room, their voices softly drifting through the hallway and at the entrance, separating down the different passages, only a small portion of it reaching out ears.

Just before entering the dining room, we stop in front of a large full length mirror to get an overall look of ourselves.

Lizzie is radiant in a violet gown, simple and elegant with only small ruffles on her sleeves, pearls outlining the boat neckline and bows adorning the front of her gown until her waist. The bottom of her gown is split in two exposing a fake under dress, only one shade lighter than the rest of the gown. Her hair is worn curled and up, under a small cap decorated with large dark purple roses and small cream birds made of fabric.

My dress is a soft olive green with large cream ruffles made of tulle adorning the ends of the tight three quarter length sleeves. Smaller cream ruffles trace the square neckline and large simple buttons, also cream colored, follow my spine. The front of the dress, the chest and stomach, is styled in a corseted way with cream ribbons criss-crossing until finishing at my waist with a side bow and the remaining ribbons cascading down. Cream colored thread has been interwoven into the hem of my dress. My hair is clipped back at either side with cream flowered clips and the large curls finish their descent at my shoulders.

Satisfied with our appearance, Lizzie and I enter the dining room.

Across the large room, we see Father, Captain Norrington and Gillette seated and awaiting the meal. We slowly make our way to them and take our seats, Lizzie beside the Captain and in front of me, and me beside Gillette. Father sits at the head of the table with the other two men at his side.

"Ah, finally! We were wondering how long it was going to take." Gillette says good naturedly, but I just glare at him and he returns to his wine.

Father gestures to the maid standing in the corner and she disappears through a door which leads to the kitchen.

The men converse for a few more minutes before the food starts appearing.

For the first course, we are served a light soup made of onions. In the soup, a slice of a baguette is placed with melted cheese over top.

Next the servers bring us plates with exactly four oysters, raw of course and a small cup of some sort of cream to dip the oysters in. I stare at the gooey animals before making a face and pushing them away. A server quickly picks the plate up and whisks it away.

"What do you think, Annalee?" Captain Norrington asks, leaning back in his chair.

"Pardon?" I say, carefully sipping at my glass of wine.

"What do you think we should do about pirates? Your Father, Gillette and I think that hanging them is the best way to go. Your sister on the other hand thinks that we should carefully dissect every man's motives, the cause for his piracy and his true nature before making any decisions. Obviously, this is impossible and too time consuming."

I quickly formulate what I should say not entirely sure of what Father's response will be.

"I think that pirates have the right to a fair trial." I say, slowly. "And I do think that if they murder or harm anyone in any way they should be punished the proper way. I agree with Lizzie on one point, though. I believe that we should truly dig deep to find out the man's motives. For all we know, he could have killed someone to save his own life or someone he cares about. And I completely disagree with your point on hanging all of them. Some of them might only be guilty of theft or some other petty crime. Speaking of theft," I say, now faster and more forceful. "I don't think it is right, charging pirates with theft. If we say a man is guilty of theft by force, then so is the government with every tax they collect."

Father looks up from his food, "Annalee, what a thing to say. You know that tax is crucial for a government to work."

James Norrington just stares at me as if trying to dissect my every thought, motive, and belief.

I don't say anything, and the conversation moves on to the two merchant ships from London that docked a couple days ago.

Two platters soon arrive, one of fish and one of pork, and the main course starts. Father carves the pork and the Captain, the fish, then passing the plates around the table, we serve ourselves.

For the rest of the evening, the conversation is light, finding us laughing quite a few times.

Gillette and Father had spent time trading stories, Father of me when I had been younger and Gillette when he had been a boy.

More than a couple of times, I find myself color at some of the ridiculous things I have done.

I admit, some of the things Father spoke of me where not of my best moments, but they were years ago and they were pretty funny.

He reminded Lizzie and me of the time where my nanny and I had planted a few plants outdoors. Mrs. Pirren had told me that for a seed to grow, water, soil, and light from the sun was needed.

Around a week later, a small crate of oranges had arrived on a merchant ship. Father had given Lizzie and me and orange to share and after I finished my half, I started wondering what would happen since I had eaten a couple seeds. I decided to find out so I got myself a glass of water, and went outside. I somehow managed to swallow a small pinch of dirt before drinking the water. Father and Mrs. Pirren had found me a couple hours later, sitting on the grass with my mouth wide open, trying to let the sun into my stomach.

At this story, the entire table erupted in laughter which lasted at least a couple minutes.

I just sat in my chair, my face as red a cherry, trying to look angry at the laughter but unable to as a smile threatened to form on my face.

Now, as we are saying goodbye to the Captain and Gillette at the door, I wonder why I was not looking forward to dinner. It had been fun.

Father kisses Lizzie and I on the cheek before we head upstairs to get ready for bed.

I grab my skirts and lift them as I jog up the stairs, anxious to get out of these high heels and the stuffy dress and into my soft nightgown.

In my bedroom, I quickly get out of my dress and let it slip to the floor, standing in the room with only my petticoats. I slip off my shoes, groaning as my ankle are finally let free from the cage.

Sitting on my bed, I try to rub some feeling back into my feet. I only have myself to blame for my pain. Mrs. Hatcham had asked me if I needed a new pair of shoes and instead of enduring trying on at least a dozen pairs of shoes, I lied and said that my old shoes fit me like a glove.

Lizzie enters the room, having been the proper lady, walking quietly up the staircase instead of stomping and tripping over her feet like I did.

A maid enters after her and quickly picks up my dress, still on the floor. She then proceeds to take off Lizzie's cap that had been pinned to her hair and brush the long light brown strands. She then helps Lizzie undress and put on her nightgown.

I just grab my nightgown and disappear behind the dressing screen. I unclip my hair and run my fingers through it before changing, leaving also my petticoats on the ground which the maid picks up and puts away in a wardrobe.

When the maid leaves, Lizzie and I get into our own beds.

"So…" I say after a few minutes of silence. "What did you think of the evening?"

"It was okay," She replies, "Sorry, Anna. I am not really in the mood for talking. I'm so exhausted."

"Okay." I say but after a few moments I can't resist, "What did you think of the Captain and Gillette?"

"They were all right." She answers, trying not to sound encouraging of my attempt at conversation.

I nod my head. "Did you like the Captain?"

She sighs, exasperated, and sits up. "Yes, he was nice. Can I go to sleep now?"

"No." I announce, turning to her. "I have something to say, and you'll probably not like it."

"What is it?" she asks, sounding intrigued but her face betrays her nervousness.

She quickly walks over to my bed and takes a seat, her eyes expectant.

"I overheard something this evening that I probably shouldn't." I start.

She just stares at me, nodding her head for me to continue.

"When I went looking for Tula to help with my hair," I continue, referring to one of the maids. "I heard men talking downstairs. I was surprised since we weren't expecting anyone for another half hour. I followed the voices and found myself in front of Father's study. I know I shouldn't have but I put my ear against the door and listened. It was Father speaking with Captain Norrington. I only overheard a few minutes but they were enough." I sigh, knowing what I say will probably hurt her in some way. "It turns out that Norrington might become a Commodore soon. And he and Father were discussing some possibilities concerning his future."

Lizzie doesn't move; her eyes don't even blink.

"Continue." She says uneasily.

"They were discussing marriage and your name sort of came up." I say quickly, trying to get it over with.

"Anna, it isn't a secret that Father wants the Captain and me to possibly marry. It's pretty much a matter of when. I guess they were just discussing the best possible time for the proposition, the engagement party, and the wedding."

"But you don't love him." I tell her.

She looks down at her hands, silently agreeing with me.

"You don't even like him." I add playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

"You're right." She says, "I don't. But I don't fit into this equation. What Father wants, Father gets. It's the least I can do for him since he has been raising us for almost a decade."

"Raising us?" I raise an eyebrow. "More like hiring nannies."

"You know what I mean."

"I know what you mean but even so, you shouldn't sacrifice your future for Father to be happy for only some time. Whatever you decide, it will be forever."

"Is there something I can do?" I ask, a small smile forming on my face. "Like scaring him off."

"Don't even think about it." Lizzie says threateningly.

"But I already have such good plans. You see, I would take some manure from the sta-"

"No. Pranks." Lizzie says strictly, cutting me off.

"But Lizzie," I argue, "I won't just stand by as you throw your happiness away."

"Fine," She replies. "I know you won't like this but what would help me most would be having you there beside me during it all."

I think this over… and over… and over. This couldn't be the only thing to do. But Lizzie is right. Being there for her would be the most helpful to her. I am, after all, her personal bodyguard. Besides, one of the plans involved at least fifty pounds of seaweed and that might look a tad suspicious.

"I'll think about it." I tell her before returning to my bed.

I blow out the candle, throwing the room into utter darkness. I hear a small "Goodnight." From Elizabeth before I can tell from her even breathing that she is sound asleep.

I, on the other, can't get my eyes to close. My eyelids seem to be glued open. I have way too much to think about.

Why would Father even think of marrying Lizzie off to Norrington? He knows they can barely stand each other. Why would the Captain want Elizabeth in the first place? Sure, she is beautiful, and lovely, and proper, and kind, and a lady… But they don't like each other. I thought Norrington would be smarter than that. Another thing is that it would be so awkward. We have known him since before coming to Port Royal. It would be incredibly uncomfortable. Sort of like if your best friend marries your sister.

Soon, my eyelids grow heavy and the moon is high in the sky, notifying me about how late the time is.

The last thing running through my head before I am plunged into my dreams is the thought that in a year from now, I could be alone in the house with Father. Lizzie gone for good.