The pride and joy on her father's face at the news had been something she could not be certain she had ever witnessed before.
The delight radiating from him as he took her face in his hands was undeniable, and the kiss he gave to her forehead was filled with affection. Her father's tender gesture and his encompassing embrace filled her with such assurance that, for a short moment, she felt like a young child again. Leaving her unable to do more than thank him with a small smile of slight embarrassment.
But her own abashment had been entirely forgotten when his attention shifted to congratulate her husband as well.
When James extended his arm to present his father-in-law with a handshake. Her father had smiled indulgently and ignored the the proffered hand in favour of taking a step forward and giving him a brisk, and surprisingly strong, embrace.
The gesture had lasted for mere seconds, but James had stood stiffly, back completely straight as he stared in utter bafflement.
His expression becoming more embarrassed than she had ever managed to make him look while teasing him, and his neck had painted an impressive shade of pink. He had looked so absolutely endearing that it had been almost painful for Elizabeth to cover her mirth behind her fingers.
...
Some months had passed since that day, and her pregnancy continued advancing with relieving ease.
And, apart from experiencing a particularly strong distaste for spicy odours and some persistent fatigue, Elizabeth had remained feeling like her ordinary self, almost unexpectedly so.
It was a delightful outcome, allowing her to release a significant amount of her worries. Mostly she was so very grateful to her unborn baby, convinced that the reason for the child's admirably tame behaviour was the pity that it felt for it's inexperienced, unprepared mother.
Her only complaints laid now with the child's father. From the moment he learned of her condition, James had become increasingly, and exasperatingly protective.
At first his obstructions had been almost negligible: suggesting she rested longer, sending for the seamstress and ordering an entire new wardrobe to be made for her. She had conceded even when he pleaded for her to reduce the time she spent practicing. And while she had not been particularly pleased by any of it, Elizabeth was able to recognize the motivation behind such wishes, admitting -even if with great reluctance- that she did not consider them to be my unreasonable requests. Thus, inconvenient as it felt, it had not been difficult to acquiescence to him.
However, the moment a slight projection had become noticeable on her abdomen, James's requests had become almost unbearably difficult to accept.
Insisting on helping her descend the staircase; not wanting her to pay visits to him on the fort without being escorted by one of the maids; refusing to let her practice at all... even light exercise had caused an argument between the two of them... But then he had dared take her sword away from her and would not return it; not even after she had threatened to sent him to lay alone on the adjacent room permanently.
His hard-headedness resulted in her not talking to him for almost four entire days, and yet James had remained firm in his conviction. It was one of the only times she could remember him proving to be more determined to triumph than she was.
Being treated as if she were a weak child had caused her unreasonable irritation, more so when she discovered herself incapable of sustaining her anger for long whenever it happened.
The realization that her husband had learned to plead for her forgiveness while diverting her focus from the thing that had angered her was an unexpected one. And that he had been successful quite a number of times before she understood what his scheme was. It was so respectably cunning, that she could not fault him much for it.
Besides, after a few days, Elizabeth would find herself forced to accept that the crave and need she felt for his presence eventually became greater than her displeasure, and so she begrudgingly forgave each one of his offenses.
Still, they persistently found things to disagree on.
Their latest argument had started after he had returned home with news of a new attack, this time on Saint Vincent.
Her delight at the prospect of leaving on a short voyage had been immediate, but her excitement had been quickly mitigated after James had opposed vehemently.
They had fought. He had continued to refuse her. And she had threatened to restart her sword practice while he was away.
...
The sight of Saint Vincent's port approaching made her body tremble with anticipation -and a considerable amount of relief- as she took another deep breath.
The gentle sea breeze did help alleviate her discomfort, even if only for a little.
The Dauntless was such a large, steady ship that she had never before felt uncomfortable while sailing on it; but now, a significant part of her urgent need to reach land was caused by the fervent desire to abandon the swaying prison.
"How are you feeling?"
When her face turned towards his steady voice, she found James staring at her with very poorly concealed unease.
'Terrible' would have been the most honest response, but the sight of his stiff posture in place of the usual jesting arrogance he would exult whenever he was proven correct in one of their arguments, made her hold her tongue.
It was absurd.
Not once in her life had Elizabeth felt the revolting sensation of becoming sea sick before, but through the journey she had been barely able to withstand the constant motion. And James' constant fretting over her health instead of the playful teasing her foolish mistake would have normally earned, had her wanting to yell.
"Perfectly." she tried to lie with a casual tone, but the strain and the faint tremor in her voice probably made it impossible.
Her gaze moved back to the town in front of them to avoid his searching gaze. Feeling like the firm grip that she maintained on the taffrail was the only think preserving her precarious balance.
A strong wave crashed against the hull, making the ship stir and her hands tighten so much it caused her pain.
"Simply magnificent." she scoffed, although it lacked her usual vigour.
A least the sensation of her meal fighting to escape her body at any given moment had finally ceased.
The soft exhale she felt next to her ear made her face turn in the opposite direction. However her tension eased momentarily when his hand reached for hers, delicately tugging on her wrist until she relented her grip.
"You are changing colour."
Glancing at him, she allowed her tightly pressed lips to part with some hesitation. "...I might be a bit nauseous still." The admission was frustrating, but if it would help her leave the ship any faster, then she was willing to tolerate it. "I would like to reach port quickly."
James frown softened into a sympathetic expression as his hand reached over her head and gently pulled down on the edge of her hat, further hiding her face from the sun.
"I will make sure you can rest quietly as soon as we disembark."
It was a promise made in earnest. And the prospect was so encouraging that Elizabeth could not even hide her relief, and so, she let her face lean on his palm as his thumb stroked the apple of her cheek.
The sensation of f irm land beneath her feet was exactly what she needed to feel better.
"Thank you, Dear." she sighed with exahustion, sincerely grateful.
...
Elizabeth was relieved that the row to the docks was a long one. In the meantime, she sought to distract herself by wandering her eyes with interest over the landscape ahead.
Her first impression was that, while filled with varied sized ships anchored everywhere and bustling with the noise and movements of commerce, Saint Vincent was more of a large village rather than a proper town.
Yet, there were so many people moving about, most of which appeared to be either sailors or merchants of questionable allegiance.
In a place filled with such activity, she had not expected their arrival to attract as much attention as it did. But she noticed the way most people around stared at them as their party left the boats.
It was an experience reminiscent to the day when they first arrived on Port Royal. Although, back then, her and her father had been hurried to the Mansion. And a significant amount of time passed before she was allowed to visit the city.
Her head thoughtlessly turned when she felt a stare from behind her, finding a group of men leering at her with interest. She promptly looked away after frowning at them with distaste.
However unpleasant, the people around didn't feel like they posed a real threat to them.
As her inspection of the busy surroundings resumed, it became evident why her presence would attracted particular attention. The sparcity of women and children around was difficult to ignore; certainly there was no woman in sight that dressed or looked like her.
What intrigued her the most, was the amount of redcoats roaming everywhere.
While the bay stretched wide and the trade activity was certainly significant... the island itself was not large, or important enough to justify such military presence there.
As she became distracted watching a large group of them pass in tight formation, Elizabeth felt the soft pressure of a large palm on her back, prompting her to continue walking.
James continued moving towards the fort, but his eyes seemed to be more interested in searching the buildings carefully. She guessed he was measuring the extent of the damage.
Plenty of taverns and low quality inns were available, and trading and merchant stalls could be found wherever she looked. Few of them presented evidence of burnt damage, a couple were missing large pieces, but most seemed to be intact.
"It does not appear to have been a truly vicious attack." she noted casually as she followed next to him.
"The fact that the island has not been burned down to the ground does not mean that the criminals can be allowed to go unpunished" he responded seriously, looking anything but relieved.
An annoyed sigh escaped her, but she refrained from frowning at him.
She was not ignorant to the fact that the increasing number of attacks on British posts around the Caribbean was becoming a concern. It had come to the point that even the ladies had began gossiping about it. Mainly, people feared the possibility of the incident with The Black Pearl repeating. She shared his concern, but...
"What I meant to say is that..." her words died and her footsteps halted when her eyes landed on the white wig and sneering glare of the officer heading the group that appeared in front of them as they reached the gates of the fort.
Her already waning spirit was altered once more.
What was he doing there?
"Norrington." Scarfield greeted, not even offering a proper salute.
The grimace she had been refraining finally defeated her as her face raised to look at James as well, readying to demand an explanation. Until she noticed his slight frown clearly indicated he was surprised by the man's presence.
"What are you doing here?" Scarfield continued, looking like he would have preferred not to have to speak to him.
His complete lack of respect towards her husband made her temper worsen. She made certain to return his glare with one of her own. Although the man was making an admirable job of ignoring her existence.
"Commodore Norrington." James corrected with serenity, appearing to be much less perturbed that she would have imagined. "We are no longer midshipmen, Lieutenant. Refrain from speaking in such casual manner." he chistised, speaking with the same firm patience one would use to educate an impertinent kid.
Scarfield expression became even more inflexible, but he did not respond.
"And you will do well to remember your manners in the future, officer." James added more soberly, finally wielding his authority as his eyes moved away from Scarfield and turned to acknowledge her presence next to him.
"Or were you not taught how to properly greet a lady?" he questioned, raising a patronizing eyebrow in waiting.
The way in which Sacarfield's glare intensified as he followed James gaze, made it evident he remembered her.
The Lieutenant presented her with a curt nod as he greeted her tersely and insincerely with an emotionless "Mrs. Norrington. It is a pleasure to see you again."
The pleasure was not mutual.
Elizabeth contemplated offering her hand to him, only so she could force him to bow down to her properly, but dismissed the thought as swiftly. She did not want him touching any part of her, and the action would likely vex James. So, instead of answering his greeting, she wrapped both hands around her husband's arm, donning the overly gracious smile she had perfected since youth. "Do not mind, Lieutenant."
Scarfield stared back with a rigid expression, but maintained his chest inflated with confidence.
Returning the grace, she turned to James without acknowledging Scarfield's presence.
"There is no need to fret over the matter, Dear." she told James sweetly, making his eyes narrow in question. "Seems like the Lieutenant is unacostumed to the fairer sex." she lamented with fake concern."It is possible he has spent so long focused on his dedicated service to the country that he might have forgotten how to properly interact with a woman." she proposed, keeping her voice meek and soothing as she stared at James with a soft, coquettish smile.
Eventually she let her eyes glance back at Scarfield while portraying an overly concerned grimace, pressing her body closer to her husband's and allowing her palm to slid down his chest with a smirk. "I offer you my sympathies, Lieutenant. It must be quite a sensitive subject for you to speak of."
Scarfield coloured a deep shade of red, appearing ready to explode at the remark. Before he could respond, James held her hand and squeezed it once, indicating he wished for her to stop her attacks. Her lips pursued with dissatisfaction but she complied.
"To respond your earlier question. I am here to investigate the raid that occured recently on this town." James answered simply. "I do not have much time to waste, Lieutenant. So it would help speed these proceedings along if you show me to your Captain."
It was the first time that the man in front demonstrated a hint of a positive emotion, as an assured smirk appeared on his face at James' words. "Our Captain went hunting for the ship that attacked us. I am the one in charge of the protection of this port while in his absense."
James impassive demeanor did not falter as he spoke again. "Then I think we should speak. Privately."
And while his words were phrased as a request, Elizabeth knew it was anything but one.
...
He had already been handling enough inconveniences since the day of the attack. But the appearance of the large galleon waving the Jack had proven to be nothing but another unfortunate event.
Watching Norrington inspect the inside of the fort with the same haughtiness he remembered from their youth left him wishing he could cast him out. However, the carefully adorned coat covered with delicate golden brocade, warned him against it.
Finally seeming to tire from looking around, Norrington'attention returned to him.
His calm, confident expression was the exact same one he had always despised. Raised eyebrows, upturned nose, pursued lips. Arrogant, insufferable.
"You would do well to remember your dignity as a naval Captain, Commodore. Or have you become so useless that you cannot do your duties without the supervision of your wife?"
One of his eyebrows lifted even higher, but his shoulders remained relaxed.
Then the bastard had the gall to smile at him with amusement. "Are you peraphs jealous, Lieutenant?"
John hated the title coming from his mouth, confident it was being used to mock him.
"I must commend you for managing to find a woman as insufferable as you."
Beautiful as she was, Norrington's wife had an insolent mouth and lacked the sense of decency and propriety of a good lady.
"And I would advise you against continuing to aggravate, Elizabeth."
"That threat will not serve to intimidate me." he growled, wishing he could shoot him instead.
"It was a suggestion. And you can choose to ignore it" he offered disspassionately. "But she can be much less forgiving than I am."
The notion of that slender woman being capable to do anything to him was so ridiculous he felt himself smile.
Ignore him he would.
"As you wish then." Norrington relented after a moment, turning his eyes out the window.
"Why are there so many soldiers wandering about?" Norrington asked with a slight frown. "The amount seems excessive, even while considering the recent attack the city suffered."
John wished he could simply chase him away, but vexing as it was, Norrington still out ranked him. Yet, he wouldn't give him what he wanted easily.
"You can go ask the Company yourself," he replied, keeping his arms crossed "They're the ones who sent them here."
The petulant man was unable to completely mask his surprise at the information.
"The East India Trading Company?"
"Do you know of a different Company, Norrington?"
This time Norrington's displeasure at his response was visible, making John smirk with vindicating satisfaction.
"Your insolence could earn you a flogging, Lieutenant."
"I will have to remind you I am not under your command. Or are you planning to go running to my Captain like when we were midshipmen?" he taunted, voice filling with scorn as he remembered the painful punishment of that day.
It would be much too low, even for Norrington, to report him to his superior officer over such a pitiful protest.
The man let out a short exhale as he stared at him with something akin to disappointment. "You truly haven't changed much, Scarfield." he continued tiredly, freeing his hands from behind his back. "I think it's been quite enough of this."
He couldn't be more in agreement.
"I´m afraid your journey has been in vain, Commodore. Saint Vincent is perfectly under control, and there is no need for your intervention."
A faint smirk returned to his face at that. "Oh, I was under the impression that this port had been attacked and pillaged without the identity of the pirates responsible for it being discovered." he mocked, finally exposing his arrogance.
"They will be captured soon enough. Without your help." he hissed in response.
"It would benefit you to remember we serve the same King."
John glared in response. The man's sanctimonious pretense had always had the uncanny ability to infuriate him beyond reason.
They continued keeping their eyes on the other for a long moment.
Norrington had always excelled at keeping his true feelings to himself, so it was difficult to determine what he was thinking as well. But as John attempted to decipher what his plans were, Norrington spoke once again.
"I do not wish to stay here for longer than necessary, so If you cooperate and tell me what I want to know, I will leave this port as quickly as I possibly can."
The words were unexpected, but the most surprising was the bastardard's willingness to admit to his distaste. Yet, he looked sincere, and the offer resulted quite appealing to him, so John nodded once without further incentive.
"I want to know the details of the attack."
"A group of pirates infiltrated one of the buildings of the Company a few nights ago. Stole the cargo inside." he recalled with irritation. "Some of my men discovered the boats as they were escaping, and their ship began firing into town."
"Did you recognize any them?"
"No." he replied tersely, but when John saw the bastard's mouth getting ready to protest, he added with reluctance "I never had the chance to lay eyes on the Captain. And the ship wasn't one I recognized either."
Norrington nodded in acceptance, crossing his arms as he leaned against the windowsill behind him.
"Was there anything particular about the ship?"
"I didnt have the time to study it, Norrington. I was here when the shooting began, I only saw the skull waving high on the mast."
John felt some hesitation on the man before he spoke his next words.
"Then... Did you notice something unusual about their appearance?"
"Unusual, you ask?" he repeated with confusion.
When he failed to respond, Norrington added a little more impatiently. "Their faces perhaps?"
John felt his eyes narrow with distrust.
What was the imbecile talking about? Was he attempting to mock him again?
"Anything strange." he insisted, looking completely serious "maybe some deformities or..."
"Have you lost your sanity?" he interrupted angrily, unable to continue tolerating his nonsense.
"Answer the question, Scarfield." he demanded as his tone became significantly more aggressive.
Even as his patience waned, he reminded himself to remain calm. Starting a fight with a superior officer would earn him a flogging, or worse.
"They were a group of filthy pirates. Nothing especial or commendable about them" he replied with a short huff, becoming increasingly tired of the conversation.
"And what was it that they stole?"
"Company's property. Spices, fabrics," he snapped his tongue as he added "they even took some of the slaves."
"That bloody scum torched part of the jungle on the other side of the city as a distraction" he confessed by accident, remembering with anger how tiring it had been to stop the wall of fire from spreading into town. "We were too busy trying to prevent every building from catching on fire to give them chase."
As he spoke, Norrington's face became increasingly vacant.
Whatever interest he seemed to hold over the group of pirates, John could not care. His part of the deal had been fulfilled, everything else was now his problem.