PRINCIPLES OF COMPROMISE
- Dis/Claimer-
. Chapter Eleven .
Damned it all to hell, WHY wasn’t Jack Sparrow dead yet?
“M’lord.”
Beckett slammed his hand on his desk furiously before sitting quite tall and foreboding in his chair. The snarl on his face contorted it greatly as Mercer walked up to the front of his desk boldly. Beckett shut his eyes tightly, hatred seething through every pore on his skin. Now he not only had Jack, Elizabeth, and the Commodore to worry about, but he had all of Jack’s crew as well.
“The ship has arrived, Lord Beckett,” Mercer told him. “It has just made port.”
Beckett slowly opened his eyes, still fuming. He had to keep everything straight. Elizabeth and Norrington had to be the first to go if he were to succeed in destroying Jack, according to the pearl. He would deal with the crew later. Right now, he had to focus on two people alone. He looked up at Mercer.
“Make sure the good captain has brought the provisions and give him payment,” Beckett said. “Afterwards, tell him to make the ship look its best for tomorrow afternoon.” He looked out the window at the dark harbor, wishing to ignite the Black Pearl with just the very thought in his mind.
“Is the King inspecting tomorrow?” Mercer asked.
Beckett shook his head slowly, glancing down at his desk. “No. But the captain should expect some company.”
x x x
Elizabeth had an awful, drawn-out, sleepless night. Resistance was indeed futile. She only allowed herself to toss and turn restlessly for half an hour before rising and pacing the floors of her bedroom for a time. She stopped at her vanity at one point, opening the top left drawer to come face to face with Jack’s key. Immediately, she slammed it shut, rattling the belongings that sat atop it.
The safety she felt in his arms earlier was gone, and she groped her memory to reencounter it, but it was useless. She felt utterly vulnerable and bare. Her longing for that comfort was so strong that tears began to prick her red eyes. Elizabeth hated the fact that it was Jack that gave her this wave of relief she craved for, but it didn’t matter. She had to be consoled. A grief like this was hard to conquer enough.
She wondered, as she stepped out onto her balcony, about James as well. Of course it was, as he said, only a matter of time before the entire port knew of their engagement (again) courtesy Lord Beckett, but a thought kept creeping to the front of her mind that made her think so much differently of the situation. Almost two years ago, she had scoffed at the idea. Now, her face betrayed her stubbornness with a light smile. He was different yet the same. He still loved her, though she knew he respected her decision not to feel the same (after all, he could not make her love him; that was absurd).
Though, it wasn’t quite as hard to return the love of this man.
Elizabeth touched the railing, almost seeing a clear image of James standing next to her with a careworn smile to the horizon. His hair was tussled and free of that ridiculous wig, and his uniform was very much absent. Her smiled betrayed her yet again.
James Norrington was a new man she could grow to love.
A man she should grow to love.
Not Jack. He was a pirate.
But so had been Will.
And in all technicalities, so had been Norrington.
So had she.
Obviously, being a pirate was exceedingly unhelpful in this matter. She would just have to choose between grieving alone until her death, finding solace in the company of a dear friend (a possibly, husband), or forcing herself to heal her waterlogged heart at sea with a pirate who offered her everything she wanted and needed. She needed that reassurance despite the recklessness.
Forget Beckett and his stability. She could have the best of both worlds. James’s stability and Jack’s recklessness. Though it didn’t make choosing one in the end any easier. James had been reckless, and Jack could be stable…
These thoughts tossed all through her weary mind that night repeatedly, and it seemed almost a surprise that the endless night had come to an end with a sudden wrap at her door.
Elizabeth fled from her balcony, shocked to realize that the sun was almost ready to break the horizon. She glanced at the mantelpiece clock above her fireplace as she came to the door. 8:15! Good Lord, she had been awake that long?
When she opened the door, Estrella curtsied before her quickly. “Beggin’ your pardon, Miss,” she said before entering the room with two other maids, “but Commodore Norrington has come to call for you in an hour’s time.” Elizabeth blinked in exhaustion as the maids stormed her wardrobe.
“Rose is a best shade for today, I think,” Estrella mused hurriedly, extracting the colored gown from her armoire. Elizabeth shook herself out of her trance as they coaxed her behind the changing screen.
“The Commodore?” she asked blankly as they disrobed her. “He’s come to call? But… why so early?”
“He didn’t leave that information, but I’d still rather hope you’d want to look presentable in his company,” Estrella pressed, lacing up Elizabeth’s bodice with skilled speed.
Elizabeth stood very still as the blur moved on around her; a rosy pink gown was soon fitted over her frame, and she when then sat in a low-back chair before a mirror while her hair was worked into a modest set of ringlets, half up and half down. Elizabeth refused a bonnet absentmindedly at one point. She didn’t see the need for one on the sunless morning of the first of December, but it was good to hear from Christine that the day was to be slightly warmer than the previous few weeks, even if it was not to last to the next day.
KNOCK KNOCKKNOCK
Elizabeth and the maids looked up as the butler opened the door. “Commodore Norrington has arrived downstairs, Miss Swann,” he said. Elizabeth went to stand, but Hestia powdered her face quickly – “Only a moment, Miss!” – and then she started downstairs, still perplexed on the hour (and nature) of Norrington’s call.
She saw him standing ever so straight against the far wall on the opposite side of the front hall, his posture and appearance undisputedly professional. However, when he met her eyes halfway down the staircase, they were anxious and foreboding. Elizabeth cast him a concerned look upon reaching him, not used to seeing such a behavior in his eye.
“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately in a low whisper.
Norrington drew his eye away from her uncomfortably, looking around as she took his extended arm. “Lord Beckett has requested an audience with us this morning,” he said almost gravely as he led her to the door. Elizabeth’s mouth opened, but he went on to say, “Your father is apparently with him.”
“What is the meaning of all this?” she asked, risking the raising of her voice as they went outside. James helped her into the carriage at the front stair. He gave her a nervous, hardened look.
“I only have so many reasonable speculations, and I believe we about to confront the most glaring,” he said with a stern voice, though Elizabeth saw and heard the dread he was trying to mask. She breathed deeply.
Oh no.
This was it.
She took in a sharp breath when James finally entered the carriage and it began to move. He wore an equal expression of panic, though his placid composure hid it better than Elizabeth’s. She wrung her hands nervously all through the silent ride, and her stomach turned at the sight of Beckett’s office. She felt Norrington wrap his hand over hers reassuringly and gently squeeze it. In a moment of need, she applied a pressure in return, eyes fixed on the building.
Elizabeth felt tearful, scared even, though she didn’t know why. Surely Beckett would announce their engagement to her father, but that would be all. She could put this all on a backburner until Jack’s trial was over. Then she and James would deal with this wedding business (the dismantling of it, anyhow). Let him say whatever he wanted – it wasn’t important yet.
A soldier led the pristine couple to Beckett’s office, formally announcing their arrival. Beckett stopped his jubilant conversation midsentence with the Governor, looking up with a genuine smile.
“Please,” Beckett said earnestly as he began to freshen up the Governor’s glass of wine and pour two others, “send them in.”
Beckett took a drink from his glass with a broad smile when the guard left. Moments later, James and Elizabeth appeared gracefully in the doorway, earning a prideful swell of happiness from the beaming Governor. Elizabeth managed a strained smile for him as they walked up to the desk.
“I always thought you made a handsome couple,” Swann said approvingly, “though I am surprised to learn your betrothal by means of Lord Beckett.”
“Not at all, Governor,” Beckett said before Norrington had the chance to speak. He handed the Commodore a healthy glass of dark wine. “I understand the situation was delicate territory,” – he handed Elizabeth a glass with a lingering gaze – “and they wanted time to make it most comfortable before informing anyone. I simply inquired after… overhearing.”
Elizabeth took the glass casually, trying not to upturn her nose to him too much in front of her father. Beckett drank with a sideways glance at her.
“Elizabeth, are you sure you are making a wise decision to marry now?” Swann asked awkwardly. “I do not doubt your merit or the companion you’ve chosen,” he said with a smile to James, “but you must leave some time for grieving, yes?”
“I will always be grieving for Will,” Elizabeth said somberly. She looked over at Norrington. “James is decidedly the only one who understands and respects this, and I have found ease and security in his company that I… foolishly overlooked before. I have no doubt he will help to provide me a stable life.”
Beckett hid his smirk behind another sip of wine.
Governor Swann was absolutely amazed. All the words the Commodore had deserved to hear from her twenty months ago were suddenly said, and he felt resolute that this would not turn out as disastrous as their first engagement. He gave a fitting smile, standing tall.
“I have the utmost confidence in him myself,” Swann said. Norrington nodded.
“Thank you, sir. I have only wanted the best for your daughter, but I let her make the decision on her own, making it clear that I was not trying to press her into an… unwanted situation… so soon.”
Elizabeth cleared her throat upon feeling James’s eyes on her, but she covered it with a smile and a light taste of the pungent wine. Beckett still had a knowing gleam in his eye that detracted from everything around her. She stared at him levelly as she slowly lowered her wine glass.
“Always a good man of character and respect,” the Governor said fondly.
“Yes,” Beckett agreed immediately. “When your daughter told me of her recent engagement I was naturally surprised with the timing, but delighted all the same. You made a… smart decision, Miss Swann.”
Before she could display her disgust for the man, James tightened his arm around hers cautiously. Instead, Elizabeth sighed to release some of her tension. What could he possibly benefit from all this that had him so pleased?
“Thank you,” she replied calmly. Only Beckett saw her eyes narrow as minuscule as they did. “I believe I have as well.”
“Well now that I’m sure you’re satisfied and comfortable with you course, I think it would be all right to go ahead with the plans,” Governor Swann said eagerly.
Elizabeth and Norrington both looked up quickly. “Plans?” James asked, blinking as if he had misheard.
The Governor’s smile was boastful. “Why yes! But credit must go to Lord Beckett,” he said, nodding towards him. “After all, it was his idea.” Elizabeth and James looked over at Beckett slowly, his grin ever-pretentious.
“When you delivered the good news to me the night before last,” he began, setting down his wine, “I was overjoyed.” Indeed, his tone was light and ‘overjoyed,’ but it wasn’t getting past James and Elizabeth. Beckett knew this, but he continued his false sincerity with enjoyment.
“So, I have arranged a little gift for you.”
“A charitable thought,” Elizabeth considered with little appreciation.
“Hardly,” Beckett said modestly. “I am thrilled to see the promise that has risen from this dreadful hardship, and I thought I would express it – and make things less of a burden for you – by funding the wedding entirely.”
Elizabeth’s stomach lurched in confusion despite the smile she wore. James raised his eyebrows in surprise, repositioning his tight stature. Governor Swann beamed at them.
“How… generous,” James said, the astonishment in his voice authentic. “We’re both… quite speechless.”
Yes, Elizabeth thought dangerously. What are you playing at?
“My reaction was quite the same,” Governor Swann chuckled. “I declined at first, but he is a persistent man.”
“I have brought in a ship just for the ceremony,” Beckett announced haughtily. “You two will be wed at sea properly, and the ship will be my gift to you on which you will spend your honeymoon.” He looked over at Norrington’s blanched face. “Every worthy seaman needs a quality vessel after all.”
Elizabeth was stunned. He was giving them a ship? And paying for the wedding?
“And you ask us nothing in return for your kindheartedness?” she asked pointedly, wanting an answer. Her father gave her a disapproving glance.
“Elizabeth…”
“I would not dream of having you in my debt whatsoever.” Beckett pretended to sound offended. Elizabeth did not pretend to care as his eyes turned stony again. He poured himself more wine. “I do, however, have only one stipulation.”
I knew it.
“Meaning what?” Elizabeth asked expectantly.
A gulp of delicious vineyard before looking up. “As it has been made known, I am to be returning to England with the King in a few days’ time.” He glanced out the window at the shipyard. “If I am to pay for this wedding, it must take place before my departure, preferably within the next three to four days.”
Elizabeth and James felt the other tense at his words. Beckett’s smile did not surface, but he was obviously pleased with the trap he had caught them in. Elizabeth looked stricken.
“But… that’s so soon,” she tried to reason.
“Well, Elizabeth, you did say you were confident in your decision,” her father said, somewhat confused. “Are you second-guessing yourself?”
“No,” she answered abruptly. “I was just… not…”
“Expecting it?”
She glanced over at Beckett almost angrily. No, I wasn’t entirely prepared to fall into your little catch, she thought acidly. Elizabeth collected herself. “I’ll manage.”
“Are you certain?” James asked her carefully.
Of course not!
But, with a swallow and poised height, she nodded firmly. “I am.”
Beckett’s smile returned in all its glory. I bet you are…
“Well.” He put down his emptied glass, reaching for his coat. “I have arranged a little tour of the ship for us this morning if you would be so gracious to join me,” Beckett implored.
“Yes, sir,” Norrington replied as Beckett and the Governor came out from around the desk, Beckett putting on his gloves. They made for the door.
“Very good. Right this way, then.”
James and Elizabeth, however, only exchanged ill-favored looks.
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