A Commodore

First Impressions

           
James tapped his fingers on his desk before standing and pacing slightly
reading the message. Then he read it again pacing a bit more. Then he sat down
tapping his fingers, and picking up the dispatch reading the message again.
Needless to say, he was worried. Very worried.

           
“This isn’t going to go well. At all.” James said standing from his
chair and starting to pace again. Just then the Captain he had sent for arrived
coming in quickly.

           
“James? What is it? It sounded like there was an emergency.” Williams
said taking off his hat.

           
“Lord Beckett has invited himself to be entertained by me and my
wife.” He said handing the Captain the dispatch. “And insists that we do so
at our earliest possible connivance.” Williams took the letter and read over
it.

           
“Oh dear.” He said. “Can I assume that you haven’t told Heather
about this?” He asked glancing up at his friend.

           
“Has Port Royal been declared under a state of war?” He countered
pointing out it was a foolish question to have asked in the first place.

           
“She’s not going to take this very well.” Williams said reading the
message again before folding it up handing it back to Norrington.

           
“Since the day she came here when the executions where going full bore,
I’m afraid Lord Beckett has become the most unpopular subject in our
household. She’s a headstrong young woman, and if our courtship was any
indication . . .” He tapped the message against his palm, “This evening will
not go well at all.”

           
“Perhaps her mother could be of some help. She seems to have some idea
of how to handle Heather in delicate social situations. Perhaps she could lend a
hand in getting through an evening of making a show of niceties with Lord
Beckett.” William’s suggested.

           
“That might be of some small use I suppose. But somehow . . .” James
sighed, “Heather has a talent for going for the mortal wound when it comes
down to it without even trying. She may do it without even thinking. Only Lord
knows how we can prevent that from happening if Beckett challenges her
outright.”

 

Dinner Parties

           
James and Heather’s mother stood in the hallway nervously as the
transition was being made from the dining room to the parlor. Heather had
departed for a few moments excusing herself to the powder room, and Lord Beckett
to the parlor already. So far things had gone . . . alright. No major clashes of
interest, and perhaps only one or two subtle cuts of the tongue that may not
have been caught.

           
“As long as we keep them from getting into direct conversation then we
should be fine.” James said in a low voice escorting Margaret to the parlor.

           
“As we have successfully thus far, but it seems to me he’s determined
to have her speak with him. It seems the more we pull him into conversation, the
more he changes the subject and asks her for her opinion, have you noticed?”
Her mother said worriedly.

           
James had noticed, and noticed a few other things about Beckett’s
manner that he hadn’t exactly approved of. “Yes. But we’ve deflected
things so far, and much to Heather’s credit, she’s allowed us to. I shall
reward her for keeping her temper and a cool head later.”

           
As they entered into the parlor, much to their dismay they found that
Heather had already returned before they had and Beckett seemed determined to
enter into conversation with her at any cost. Never knowing what sort of danger
he was in. It wasn’t so much that they cared about his safety as they cared
about Heather’s and Norrington’s position. She was not your usual
aristocratic young woman.

           
“Have you lived here in the Caribbean long Lady Heather?” Beckett
inquired directly.

           
“All of my life, Lord Beckett. I was born here.” She said looking at
him straight on. Almost challengingly.

           
“Oh . . . oh yes, we came here from London when my husband and I were
first married. Some of the first in the Colony you know . . .” Margaret tried
to step in to take over the conversation, but it seemed that Beckett would have
none of it this time.

           
“You needn’t be so formal, I think Cutler would be quite alright.”
He said his eyes staying on Heather’s as a charming smile crossed his lips and
he took a drink of his brandy. Norrington wasn’t blind, he could see him
flirting with his wife right in front of his eyes and he wasn’t at all happy.

           
Heather wasn’t blind or ignorant and she was more then aware of what he
was doing, and she was less then happy herself. But a small smile came to her
lips as well, “I didn’t know that was your first name. It is rather
appropriate isn’t it. Cutler.” She repeated. As her eyes narrowed.

           
He smiled looking at her, “Oh? How so?” He said intrigued to hear
what she would say seeing the soft smile on her lips.

           
“It would take someone of a rather, cutting nature to march an endless
precession of children so small that they would have to be stood on barrels so
their small fragile necks would reach the noose, to the gallows wouldn’t
it?” She said her expression never changing.

           
“Heather!” Margaret instantly scolded her daughter, to quiet her.
Norrington didn’t say anything, still irritated at the outright blatant
audacity of Beckett’s attempt at seducing Heather without even pretending to
wait until his back was turned.

           
Beckett’s own light attitude faded a bit into a more serious one having
been put on the spot but he attempted to keep himself good natured. “I believe
you are referring to the pirates that were being executed.” Heather narrowed
her eyes at him, feeling that she had already been clear in what she had said.
He stood from where he had been sitting and walked closer to her. “The law
states that anyone convicted of piracy is subject to the penalty of death. I was
merely carrying out said sentences.”

           
“Not even God holds children accountable for sins that they themselves
don’t understand. Do you hold yourself above God . . . or do you claim to be
him in human form.” She said glaring at him.

           
“You know what they say, my dear.” He said walking close to her
looking into her eyes, “The sins of the fathers shall be revisited on the
sons. At least this way, I’m saving them the trouble of learning what a truly
cruel world this could be . . . first hand.” He said starring deep into her
eyes.

           
Heather’s eyes started to narrow a bit more as her hand started to
reach towards the desk drawer. “That’s your excuse . . . for killing
innocent children.” She said in disbelief more in unsatisfied with his answer.

           
“Try to understand my dear, Lady Heather. Leaving about the orphans of
thieves and beggars, pirate trained offspring that are already guilty of the
crimes their families have committed is fool hearty and ignorant. It’s simply
asking for trouble in the future, and not something one who is trying to put an
end to all of this pirate nonsense for good should turn his back on. It’s
nothing personal . . . .” He took a drink of his Brandy,  “it’s
just good business.” Reaching up he touched her cheek moving a stray strain of
hair back out of her eyes.

           
That was it, she reached up and grabbed his wrist pulling it away from
her face her other hand reaching the desk drawer. Norrington had seen what she
had been reaching for and made his way over to them. Instantly he grabbed her
other hand and pulled them apart stepping between them.

           
“It’s getting late.” He said pulling Heather behind him, keeping
her hand that held the weapon tight behind his back, “I think perhaps we
should call it an evening Lord Beckett.”

           
Cutler sighed and nodded before finishing his Brandy. “Yes. I suppose
it is getting rather late.” Putting his glass aside he bowed towards Margaret
and Heather. “It’s been a pleasant evening. I’ve enjoyed your
hospitality.”

           
Margaret smiled and stood from where she sat taking Beckett’s arm
leading him out to the foyer waving one of the maids to get his things. As soon
as they were out of the room, Norrington pulled Heather around to face him and
pried the weapon from her fingers, shoving it back into the drawer and closing
it quickly. He took her by the hand leading her to the hall. “We need to see
our guest out.” He said in a stern tone. Obviously they were going to talk
later.

 

Do’s and Don’ts

           
Heather was sitting in a chair in their room while James paced back and
forth in front of her, still a bit upset that they had a near miss situation
earlier. “I didn’t do anything, James.” She said.

           
“Only because I stopped you!” He said loudly. “Have you any idea
the consequences that would have come of your actions! Did you even consider
them before reaching for that weapon!”

           
“How can you defend that man!” She exclaimed. “That scoundrel has
no soul whatsoever and has no remorse for what he’s done! He sounded as though
he actually enjoyed murdering all of those people.”

           
“I’m not defending him! I’m trying to explain to you what would
have happened to you if you had injured him, or God forbid, managed to strike a
fatal blow to his person!” James stopped in front of her, “You have to learn
how to control your temper, it’s going to get you killed!!” He roared before
storming out of their room slamming the door behind so hard it made the windows
shutter.

           
Heather sighed and leaned back in the chair. “My temper?”