The many voices fighting to be heard above all others were echoing around the small salon, overlapping in a chorus of gossip, laughter, and hushed whispers. She couldn't help but find the noise to be mildly disrupting, as it was partially drowned the beautiful melody that Madam Wilson's youngest daughter played on the clavichord. It was quite an endearing sight to watch the young girl's fingers move over the keys, staring down with an intense frown of concentration until the last note died in the air, quickly darting her eyes in her mother's direction, only to resume her task with a small pout at the clear behest of the older woman. The reprising scene made Elizabeth's lips curl in sympathy, offering the trapped child encouraging clapping each time the melody changed.
The rest of the room was an expected mingle of colour and movement, but nothing else held much of her attention so her eyes simply wandered with detached curiosity. Although the gathering had been meant to be a casual one, the meaning of that word was lost when upper class women were involved. Most of the ladies present were donning frankly excessively ornated attires, which Elizabeth though to be unnecessary at the lack of men to woo present. The one girl wearing a ludicrous amount of silken ribbons was making it particularly challenging to maintain the composure on her features.
She had accepted the invitation on a whim. The lack of anything more entertaining to do for the afternoon, combined with Casey's growing restlessness and the foul mood she had been fighting for the past three days after realizing that James failed to return home once The Dauntless arrived on port, had served as the perfect motivation to accept.
"Are you listening, Elizabeth?" The disgruntled voice forced her attention back to the girl sitting to her right, finding the eager face of Mary Wotton leaning very close to her, staring with an expectant pout.
"Pardon me," she offered with a pleasant smile, quickly creating an excuse for her distraction and trying to shift her attention away from the subject she had not been listening to. "I became a little distracted by the garish design of that shockingly pink gown that Miss Westley seems to be attempting to pass as a fashion choice instead of a regrettable faux pas."
Mary and the other two ladies sitting at the table followed her stare and laughed softly, careful not to attract the attention of the other guests nearby. The three of them were all girls she had grown up together with, and while her relationship with them had been first encouraged by their parents, she found their company enjoyable, if a little overwhelming on occasion.
"Helen appears quite determined to exhibit her newfound fortune." Amelia pointed with a roll of her eyes.
Her lips twitched as she leaned forward and added in low conspiratorial whisper, "If by 'flaunting her newfound fortune' you mean drowning herself in fabrics so blinding they could serve to guide sailors at sea back to safety, then yes, she's certainly succeeding."
"Most certainly." Mary agreed, still hiding a mischievous smile behind her fan. "But someone should really make her aware that no amount of linens will compensate for her lack of grace."
Amelia lifted a disinterested eyebrow at Mary. "The growing business of her dear Baron most certainly will. So you would do well to mind your words, Mary."
Mary's lips purse in annoyance but did not retort to the chiding.
"Commerce with The Company is certainly resulting to be a very lucrative business." Anne intervened, looking petulantly at them as she continued in a lower tone, "My father says that earnings have been steadily increasing since he started to seek business with them."
Elizabeth almost let escape a mocking huff.
Anne's father was right, in spite of the difficult season, commerce between the islands was thriving.
Dismissing the whispers about the advances of the The East India Company over the Caribbean had been easy to do until very recently, attributing the speculations to the conniving old man trying to make a profit out of it. However, she could no longer do so now that its influence over trading had become more grounded. And unfortunately, it was not only Anne's father who thought so; the plantation owners, the merchant, her Father, and even James had offered no objection to their activities.
Left alone in her displeasure and unable to intervene against it, Elizabeth decided that she would not care about their business as long as their ships departed as swiftly as they arrived. So instead of offering her opinion on the subject, she lowered her eyes to the child sitting on her lap.
The doll that he had taken to carry around everywhere was now in his mouth.
The decision to bring him had been prompted by Mary's insistent begging for her to bring him along and Casey's unwillingness to stay behind, but Elizabeth had felt anxious after been accosted on several occasions by some of the ladies wanting to play with her baby. While her son was of a lively and curious disposition that generally loved being taken to new places, he had demonstrated to not be appreciative of being surrounded by strangers and passed around liberally, which had unfortunately happened a few times when her friends had visited while he was still a very small newborn. Allowing James to hold him during casual gatherings had been an easy solution, as they had discovered that most women did not dare to ask Commodore Norrington to hold his child a second time after returning a bawling, disconsolate mess the first one.
However, considering her husband's absence, she had been forced to warn off the requests by herself. So it was reassuring to see him remain so tranquil even while surrounded by so much noise.
Sensing her gaze, Casey stopped nibbling on the toy and raised his face towards her.
Elizabeth couldn't help but smile when their eyes met. "Are you alright, Darling?" she asked gently, brushing her palm over the top of his head.
In response Casey extended his free arm to her and offered the piece of half eaten pastry he had been crushing in his palm.
"Is that for me?"
The child nodded as he tried to bring the treat closer to her face.
"Ahh!"
Staring at the bite of mushed, saliva-covered food, she could clearly hear her husband's scolding voice inside her head, 'Do not eat it, Elizabeth.' It certainly did not seem too appetizing after losing it's shape, but Casey was looking at her with such innocent and expecting eyes, that she felt herself lean down and take a small bite from the offer. Kissing his forehead when her son gave him a pleased smile.
Chewing enthusiastically, she praised him with a spirited smile. "It's so delicious! Thank you."
His head buried against her chest as he cooed softly.
"Such a little gentleman! Your child is such a delight, Elizabeth!" she hear Anne say, before she saw her reach for him and rub his cheek with a thumb. "And so soft and round!"
"Thank you." she offered with a genuine smile, holding a strawberry for Casey to bite on while they Anne and Mary touched him. It was a small trick that they had learned to prevent him from turning around and biting someone's finger off whenever he was patted by a stranger.
"He is so pretty! and his eyes look exactly like the Commodore's!" Mary squealed from the other side, taking the doll and wiggling it in front of Casey, who was delighted by the game. "I want your child to marry mine if I have a daughter!"
"I am not promising my child away in marriage" Elizabeth informed them all, hugging her darling's body possessively to her chest with a pout, making them all laugh mirthfully.
"Their child being pretty is of no surprise to anyone Mary." Anne scolded her with some condescension, "Elizabeth was always the most sought after in the balls, and the Commodore is regarded as a rather handsome man as well."
"Rather?" It was Amelia who spoke this time, raising a teasing eyebrow at them, "I seem to recall how someone used to fawn over him since you first placed eyes on him after arriving at Port Royal. Or have you forgotten that, Anne?"
Although her expression remained impassive at the childish taunt, Anne's cheeks coloured a light pink. "Yes well, I was fifteen Amelia, and he was a civilised, young lieutenant from England." she objected pretending indifference.
"A handsome Lieutenant from England." Mary added, quickly joining on the teasing. "In fact, I remember most of us veered for his attention at some moment... pined over him, actually."
"Elizabeth didn't." Anne added with a mischievous smirk.
"Yes." Mary conceded, patting Casey on the head as she returned the look. "But she was the only one that didn't."
In spite of their mirthful disposition, Elizabeth felt her shoulders tense a little at the observation, finding the reminder rather unpleasant even as a jest.
Fortunately, all of them had enough sense to not try to question her over the possible reasons as to why she had not joined them on their fancy, and before she could intervene, or try to chance the subject, Amelia spoke again. "That was probably one of the reasons why the Commodore seemed to be so taken by Elizabeth."
"It is not unlikely, I never saw him demonstrate even mild interest in any other lady."
"Well, she never accosted him at balls, or followed him around port squealing away behind his back while the ships were readied for departure."
Elizabeth was a little surprised to learn they had done such a thing, and mildly displeased as well.
"Hush, Mary!"
"Not another mention of that!"
The other two demanded, looking positively mortified as they watched her with wariness. Mary covered her mouth as she realized the information she had willingly shared. "But we never did anything beyond staring, Elizabeth! You must believe us!"
"I do." she assured them all with sympathy, making the three girls sigh with relief. "And there is no need to worry, it is unlikely he was ever aware of your... ventures." There was just a hint of chiding in her voice as she said that.
"It would have been surprising if he had. In spite of our best efforts, none of us ever truly conversed with him."
"Well, that is because Commodore Norrington's disposition is so..."
"Severe."
Anne and Amelia gave each other a nod of approval at the word, sharing a look of understanding. Her brow twitched at the exchange, feeling somehow offended by the remark.
"James is always a gentleman."
"Oh, we did not meant as an insult to the Commodore. His manners are certainly without a fault."
Amelia's quick concurrence only left Elizabeth feeling even more confused.
"Then why did you imply you find it difficult to carry a conversation with him?"
But it was Mary who responded with an exaggerated sigh. "Exactly that. He has never talked to any of us beyond a formal greeting."
"Even on the rare occasion he would attend a ball, he always hurried away the moment you and The Governor arrived." Anne contributed, a sly smirk appearing on her face before she covered it with the porcelain cup she had been nursing.
Ah.
Their words made her face heat in mild embarrassment and quite a bit of presumptuousness.
"Rose Perry particularly resented you for it." Amelia informed her, clasping her hand in an elegant gesture before allowing her chin to rest on top of them. "Everyone suspected of the Commodore's fancy, but I think Rose was holding onto the hope you would reject him. However, the shrew was unsurprisingly mistaken."
"Oh, yes! I do remember how livid she was after learning you were to hold the ceremony so quickly after his return!" Mary joined enthusiastically.
"Seeing as the woman chose to flee from home to go gallivanting with a sailor of unknown origins, Lady Perry was definitely lacking proper sense."
Amelia's smile only grew bigger at Anne's words. "She must have gone completely mad from the jealousy."
The pleasure on her face and the mocking tone made it obvious that the possibility was entertaining her immensely. Elizabeth returned the smile, feeling amused by their mutual dislike for the obnoxious woman.
Anne rolled her eyes at their childish exchange, but chose to continue her argument instead of offering a useless critique, but then the girl glanced in her direction with an almost imperceptible narrowing of the eyes. "Although, considering the circumstances of your rescue and the events that followed, I must admit that the news of your wedding did come as a slight surprise to most of us, Elizabeth."
The other two nodded in vehement agreement.
"We thought you would prefer a longer engagement."
When they had been much younger, Elizabeth had made it apparent that her interest in things like marriage and becoming a wife was minimal, even after it became apparent that Commodore -then Captain Norrington- was beginning to reveal an interest in her. Thus, getting married and being the first one of them to become a mother was somehow of a surprise to her as well. However, the attentive look all three women were now giving her while waiting for a response made her doubt that was what Anne had been referring to.
While no one had ever dared question her before on how a single pirate had managed to escape his own execution with only the help of the blacksmith's apprentice, or what had happened during the confrontation on the battlement, their poorly veiled curiosity was still there.
"He was rather compelling during his proposal. And we were... impatient." she offered while presenting them with a coy smile, hoping the inference would occupy their attention and stop them from trying to pry further into the subject.
Her answer gained a soft squeal from Mary and hidden giggles from Anne and Amelia, and Elizabeth guessed it had sufficed as a distraction.
"See?" Mary said to the other two, "Who would be foolish enough to reject a proposal from the Commodore after he performed such a gallant rescue from that group of filthy and uncivilized pirates?" The expression on her face denoted such incredulity that it was evident she expected no argument.
They had clearly had the same conversation at some previous point.
Instead of intervening, Elizabeth decided to watch their nonsensical bickering quietly, shifting her attention to Casey on her lap. Her baby had laid down, and was now comfortably curled around her skirt, appearing ready to fall asleep. Her fingers caressed his form gently, playing with his pretty curls as she watched his tired lids flutter adorably.
"You must confess, Elizabeth." she heard Amelia order in a low tone, leaning close to her.
Elizabeth, who until that moment had been ignoring their chatter in favour of playing with her child, immediately lifted her head at the words. The unexpected demand of her attention had caused her back to straighten as she regarded her friend with some suspicion.
"Now that The Dauntless has returned. When will the ceremony take place?"
Still feeling caught off of her guard, she could only parrot the word, "Ceremony?"
"His promotion ceremony, Elizabeth!"
The meaning of the word private was truly meaningless amongst aristocracy, Elizabeth noted as she allowed herself to relax once again.
"And wherever did you learn of that, Amelia?"
A wry smile appeared on her face. "Do not try to avoid the question, my Dear."
"So the rumors are true then." Anne intervened, "He is to be named Admiral?"
Elizabeth's mouth parted, but before she could offer a confirmation, Mary asked a new question.
"Is that the reason why there are so many new ships on the bay?"
Ships?
"What ships are your refiring to, Mary?" asked Anne in her stead.
"I saw three large galleons moored on the bay as my carriage drove past the docks."
"It probably is just one of the larger merchant convoys passing by to resupply." Elizabeth contributed noncommittally to maintain her manners, but once again lost all interest in following a conversation about all the possible manners of fabrics and ornaments that might become available.
The only thing she needed to do was to be patient for a few more days. And once James returned home, then the three of them would be able to enjoy a pleasant trip to Barbados without having to worry about those incessant responsibilities of his.
He had already been feeling tired and irritated due to their delayed return to Port Royal after he'd been informed that one of the ships on patrol had disappeared at sea just before The Dauntless' arrival on Saint Christopher. Most frustration of everything was their inability to find any leads to the whereabouts of the missing vessel in spite of their conjoined efforts.
After working to find a solution to that, he was surprised with the news of the beginnings of a revolt from the locals in Kingston upon his return home.
He was weary, and he wished to return home to his family.
So the moment Gillette intruded in his office with unusual urgency to announce the sighting of the three large galleons entering the bay, alert filled his mind. The wave of tension promptly subsided when he found British colours waving from the topmast of the closest ship. However, the fleeting calmness quickly passed as well, replaced by irritation when he sighted the other flag accompanying the Jack. The three bold letters accentuated on the black flag were familiar, and unmistakable.
His hand was already reaching for his hat, feet moving towards the exit.
The boats had already reached port by the time he arrived there.
There were so many soldiers accompanying the expedition that his own men appeared disconcerted as to how to proceed.
There had been no warning of a convoy due to arrive within the month, and he found their appearance to be as unexpected, as it was frankly, offensive. But the situation only became more aggravating when his eyes spotted the man leading the uncalled display of strength.
Of course.
Suddenly, the urge to climb back on his own horse, return to the fort and pretend he had not seen anything was extremely compelling. Instead of doing as he would have preferred, James straightened his shoulders, took a fortifying breath and braced himself for the encounter with the man disembarking the longboat while trying not to look as displeased as he felt.
In spite of the gloom weather, James could appreciate the same self-assured mien that he remembered from three years prior.
"Commodore Norrington, such a long time."
The polite acknowledged clashed unpleasantly with the way the man was looking down at him from the top of a horse.
"Cutler Beckett." he answered levelly, refusing to show his agitation at the blatant attempt at intimidation, making a discreet count of the number of soldiers trailing after him. It was a significant amount, if not completely excessive.
The shorter man's mouth became a thin line, his eye twitching almost imperceptibly before he emphatically corrected him, "It's Lord now, actually."
At the words, James felt the beginnings of a headache start to throb at sides of his temple. The man had already been unbearable enough without a title, and he did not wish to discover how much worse he could become with one. Yet now he found himself in a position that would force him to.
"And may I ask what is the motive of your visit to Port Royal this time, Lord Beckett?"
"Ah, yes." he replied calmly, as if remembering something to the side, Beckett made a gesture with his finger to the ghoulish man that seemed to follow him like a shadow. "Mr. Mercer."
The man took a step forward and produced a dispatch case from his breast pocket. The readiness of the action caused him a strong sense of unease that made him resent the few seconds of waiting before the man called Mercer delivered a document.
"That is the motive of my visit." Beckett proclaimed, staring at him.
Despite never having been presented such a document before, James recognized the great seal and signature at the bottom as soon as he set his eyes on it.
A royal charter.
His eyes travelled over the words with keen focus, taking a few extra heartbeats to re-read its content before he could truly grasp the meaning of the words he was reading. Having a difficult time accepting the contents of the letter, even as he read it.
Duly appointed representative of His Majesty? Granting the EIC authority to regulate all matters related to trading on The Caribbean region?
It was simply outrageous. And signed by the King.
The throbbing in his head only intensified, but he was now more concerned about the possibility of his teeth cracking from the sheer pressure of having them grind together.
"I believe we should continue this conversation in a more private setting. Don't you agree, Commodore?"
When he was finally able to tear his eyes away from the document, James looked at their surroundings and realized with extreme displeasure that the docks were crowded with both his men and company soldiers, and they all appeared to be waiting for an order.
Damned be all!
Any sort of confrontation between them would certainly result detrimental for everyone involved.
"...If you'll follow me then." he offered with an inviting gesture of his hand, deciding to relent to the situation until he understood what the man's purpose truly was.
The journey to the fort was a silent, tense one. Neither he nor Beckett were in a disposition to engage in a friendly chatter with one another, so the only sound to be heard was the horses' hoofs landing on the rock path. The walk towards the officers quarters was not much different.
Once they entered his office, James made his way directly to his desk. Sitting back against it as he waited for the other man to follow, only raising an eyebrow when he saw Mercer join them in the room as well.
He watched with irritation as Beckett called for one of the soldiers posted outside his door and ordered for him to bring him tea. The lad turned to him with an expression of unease and confusion, uncertain whether or not he should obey. James offered nothing more than a succinct nod of the head, it was all his man needed to hurry out the door.
"Your office looks more welcoming than the last time I was here." Beckett noted, glancing around the room with mild interest before he sat down on Elizabeth's favourite sofa. "Civilization seems to be finally starting to reach this side of the world." His declaration was followed with an approving nod, making jaw muscles twitch at the condescendence on his expression.
Knowing he could not throw him out of the room, he chose to concentrate on the discomfort of his fingers digging against the hard wood he was grasping.
Watching him intrude on the space and recline his back comfortably on the same spot his wife usually laid down to read a book or play with their son whenever she decided to bring him for a visit, managed to cause him irrational anger.
"I do believe that you could enjoy much more polished views elsewhere."
Staring at the man invading his office, James watched quietly, waiting for a proper explanation for his presence on Port Royal. But instead, the man made a new gesture to his aid, who promptly handed him even more documents.
This time, it was the letter of appointment of Lord Cutler Beckett as the head of The East India Trading Company by the Court of Directors.
It wasn't until after the soldier returned with the tea and Beckett had enjoyed a slow sip from the cup that the man eventually decided to speak again.
"As you can see Commodore, along with my title, the king has generously granted me license to do whatever I determine necessary in order expedite the development of the Caribbean into a true civilised world." he declared much too arrogantly, adding with a sardonic smirk, "For England's sake, of course."
He wanted nothing more than to throw the parchment on the bastard's face and banish him, and the band of mercenaries he had posing as proper soldiers, out of Port Royal.
"I see." It was the only thing he could think to offer at the moment. "And may I ask how does it relate to your presence here?"
The situation still made little sense to him, making it difficult to determine what the man intended with his current actions and presence in Jamaica.
If the letter had any veracity to it, the EIC was now in control of the trading routes and held exclusivity to the commerce between The Caribbean and England. However, it remained unchanged that Governor Weatherby Swann was the King's Governor of Port Royal appointed by King George.
Besides, the documents presented to him failed to provide him with any proper instructions, and he had yet to receive new orders from The Admiralty on the matter. Considering that Beckett was not a member of the Royal Navy; even if The Company's sights were now fixated on their territory, it was not within their purview of responsibilities nor rights to assume command of his station.
The notion that Cutler Beckett made the voyage there with the intention to parade his new acquired power was foolish.
But perhaps... was he planning something against him?
"There is no need for the haste, Commodore. That will be known in due time."
The words did nothing to calm his mind.
"At present, I have a much more pressing matter that needs to be attended." Before his next words, Beckett looked straight into his eyes with a pleased smirk, "One that calls for your particular skills as Captain."
This time, James could not prevent the surprise from momentarily showing on his expression.
From all the things the man could have said, those words were not something he'd ever expected to hear.
The cunning man's relaxed disposition only made the offer appear even more suspicious.
It was all utterly absurd.
"I appreciate your consideration." he began carefully, "I will provide assistance in whatever way you require it. However, I'm afraid I am to depart with The Dauntless the day after tomorrow, and will be absent from Jamaica for the next..."
Before James could finish his explanation he was interrupted.
"So the preparations to set sail have been completed? Most splendid!" Seeing the honest satisfaction on the man's face at the news, James hesitated for a brief moment. "Then you'll be able to depart at the soonest."
"As I've said, I..."
"Commodore."
After being interrupted with such lack of regard for the second occasion, it took the gathering of every ounce of patience still remaining in him to stay seated in place instead of doing something he would most definitely regret later. However, the man now gazing out the window while casually sipping on his cup, completely ignored his grace by continuing to address him with great arrogance.
"Whatever business you have, it will need to wait until you've completed the task I have for you."
The man could have been ordering him to kneel, for all the difference it would make to him.
Only the crumbling letter still in his grip forced him into stillness. For reasons unbeknown to him, The King had decided to grant this man significant authority, and provoking a needless strife could not benefit him in any way.
Swallowing his pride, James made his mouth open once more.
"You'll have to excuse me, Lord Beckett. But after witnessing the might that you have at your disposal, I must confess that I'm still not certain as to what is it that you would need from me."
Finally putting the damned cup down, Beckett stood up and moved close to the balcony as the man named Mercer trailed closely behind.
"So you see, Commodore, The Company has encountered a... troubling situation a few days back."
"An unknown group of pirates has viciously attacked one of our convoys as it was crossing the Antilles. The report of the surviving officers indicates the vessel in question fled towards the Bahamas."
James almost smiled as understanding dawned upon him, already having a supposition as to what the man's purpose was.
"If the situation is such, then it's likely your criminals took refuge on Nassau or one of the islets nearby." he informed the man, feeling particular distaste at simply pronouncing the name.
"Our ships have been surveying the most likely areas where they might have hidden, but as you know, the terrain makes it difficult for people unfamiliar with it to navigate around it."
Certainly.
Having sailed the shallow, reef-infested waters on numerous occasions since his arrival on The Caribbean, he could confidently assure that sailing into them without experience was reckless and could prove fatal.
There was a reason why the region had been an attractive destination to pirates for decades.
"So Commodore, I need you to make sail for Bahamas and find them for me."
Even while in the surface his manners appeared perfectly amenable, Beckett's words were demanding, instead of requesting. And his explanation was lacking.
Even if a pirate ship attacked, and somehow managed to defeat and escape from a Company's convoy... Why would the head of The East India Trading Company care to go through the trouble of hunting after them himself? That was the Royal Navy's job. His job, he noted with frustration. But were there not enough soldiers already stationed on the Greater Antilles for that exact same purpose? Why come seek his help?
While he was confident in his ability to complete such task. James knew his precarious relationship with the man could never be defined as good. It was barely civilised.
More importantly, Nassau was a distasteful destination. In spite of being reigned under the British flag, it had been a poorly secured harbor with an unacceptable excuse of a governance, suffering in such decadent state that it could have rivaled the likes of Tortuga until a few years back. And even if the city had began righting itself since the arrival of Governor Rogers, James did not fancy a visit to the port. Not to consider that it was very much in the opposite direction to where he intended to head to.
He arrested his tongue, but the irritation in his eyes might have betrayed him because an amused smirk appeared on Beckett's face as he continued watching him with interest.
"I can guess what you're thinking Commodore, but as you must be aware, the officers there have been occupied with the expelling of the remaining criminals from the city. As such, it's military resources have unfortunately proved to be limited."
"There are many shipping lanes near the region. It is quite likely that your fugitives have already fled."
Disregarding his forewarning, the man smiled as if he'd been waiting for that response. "I have taken great efforts to block possible routes of escape and ensure that will not happen. They're still there, hiding somewhere. I need those men retrieved, immediately."
'Retrieved'?
James couldn't stop the slight raise of an eyebrow after hearing the last demand. His next question was more driven by curiosity and confusion than real defiance, "You want them alive?"
"I do believe that is precisely what I just asked."
At the condescending tone and emotionless expression, a twitch of irritation made his mouth pull to the side.
If it was a matter of such great importance to him, then he should send the attack dog that guarded over his shoulder; maybe even demonstrate some skill and just go in person.
"Even at land, capturing a pirate alive is not as easy of a feat as you might be estimating."
"And that is exactly why I came to fetch you." Beckett declared as a thin line drew between his lips, "But I must say that I've grown weary with this discussion."
The sentiment was shared.
"You shall go bring me what I want and that is final." It was the conviction in his expression as he continued to command him what was slowly fueling his anger. "It is an order Commodore, not a request. Now, was there anything you failed to understand, soldier?"
And now the useless merchant was trying to pose as a military man.
James remained silent, trying to determine what would be the best answer. The situation was irregular at best, but considering that The Admiralty had not regarded it necessary to issue any formal orders for his obedience to the man, Beckett's 'License to develop the Caribbean' was only meant to permit him to proceed unencumbered as to support the interests of The Company. So denying his request would be simple enough.
When seconds passed as he failed to provide a prompt response of acquiescence, Beckett decided to approach him, regarding him with a half narrowed, pondering stare.
"Need I remind you that this matter is of utmost importance to the crown and of exceptional time sensitivity?"
They simply continued glaring at each other. Childish as it was, he had no desire to concede to the man.
"Come to think of it... How has the lovely Miss Swann been faring?"
A polite question, innocuous in its content, and yet, his body stiffen defensively at his mention of Elizabeth. Regrettably, his visible reaction made Beckett's eyes glint sharply.
"I still remember our brief encounter three years ago. I hope that the lady is doing well and has managed to stray away from further trouble." he mused with careful measure while looking completely uninterested in the answer.
Was he truly so deplorable as to seek vengeance over what had happened between them years ago?
But it was the cunning rat next words which truly gave him pause.
"It would be a true shame if such a woman was incarcerated for a second time."
Maybe the bastard was simply trying to get James to rearrange his unpleasant semblance?
"My wife is in perfect health. And she's had no more unwanted encounters with criminals." he lied easily, and the levelness in his voice was not something that he had expected himself capable of attaining at the moment. "So I assure you there is no reason for your concern, Lord Beckett."
"Oh. So she has now become Mrs. Norrington? Congratulations are in order then."
The mocking tone and entertained expression as he offered his well-wishes, was yet the biggest offence of the entire exchange.
"Thank you."
The response was forced, succinct and insincere, but it was the most proper he was capable of.
"Now, regarding what we were discussing," Beckett resumed the subject without any subtlety. "I would like for you to depart as promptly as possible."
This time, it only took James a moment of consideration before eventually surrendering with an exasperated sigh. Regardless of whether it was his goal to obtain his compliance by bringing Elizabeth into the conversation, it would be much preferable to keep the Beckett's attention away from her.
"The fastest the preparations can be completed would be the day after tomorrow."
Beckett's oppressive demeanor relaxed as soon as he received the answer he wanted.
"Marvelous!"
"And I need a more through recount of the attack."
"Unfortunately the ambush occurred just as dawn broke. The pirates shot at our ships from aft, sunk one of them, rendered another one useless and then headed north towards The Bahamas."
Containing a sigh, he tried again, "Then perhaps a description of the vessel?"
"A sloop. Old and ram shackled."
This man was completely useless.
"How exactly are you expecting me to fulfil your request when you cannot provide me with even the most basic information?"
"They're pirates, Commodore. Therefore, they look as such."
Nassau was crawling with men like those. And it could take weeks to scout the region if he were to venture into it so blindly.
"It was my understanding that you were exceptionally skilled at hunting for their kind." The man dared to stare at him with a prominent, disappointed frown. "Unless of course, your reputation has been... should we say... unearned?"
James could barely resist the urge to growl, the poorly disguised insult grating at his pride.
"I must admit how utterly disenchanting it would be to learn that to be the case."
Since he was a young lad, he'd strived to serve dedicatedly as an officer at the service of his Majesty, imperilled his safety whenever necessary to achieve it. Thus, hearing his capacity to fulfil his duties being raised into question by a man that so evidently had never seen the battlefield from a close distance, was degrading, and beyond infuriating.
"The only thing that should be of any relevance to you, is that it is imperative for them not to be allowed to escape. Our cause demands for it."
Our cause. James wasn't even certain what the cause he spoke of was.
"Very well. But if that is all my Lord, you'll have to excuse me." he offered soberly, before extending an arm towards the exit with a terse nod. No longer willing to endure the insufferable man. "To ensure the assignment is carried as you've requested I will need to supervise that the preparations on The Dauntless are completed in a timely manner."
It was not the most appropriate way to end the discussion, but he now realized he'd return home only to inform his wife that the voyage he had promised her would have to be postponed because he would be leaving without her, again.
Arms crossed rigidly, he waited for Beckett to acquiescence, holding his gaze until the intruding bastard nodded and began to make his way towards the door, watching the two figures retreat with caution.
"And before I forget, Commodore."
Teeth clamping discreetly when the man pivoted on his heels just before leaving, feeling his fingers dig into his forearms as he expected to hear just one more unpalatable word.
"I will be needing proper accommodations during my stay. Somewhere I can start my work." The man said while giving his own office a careful, pondering glance. "A place like this would be appropriate." he declared after a moment, giving him a faint smirk before disappearing through the threshold.
The only salvageable part of the day was that he would finally see Elizabeth and Casey again.
