High Tide

Chapter 4


An uncomfortable and awkward introduction to her husband would have been preferable to the disastrous incident it ultimately proved to be. A single missed step and she tripped quite indelicately and would have righted herself with minimal embarrassment had her chivalrous husband not seen fit to come to her presumed aid. The unexpected attachment of the Commodore’s strong hands to her person startled Jocelyn enough to send her teetering off-kilter once more, arms flailing at her sides in a windmill fashion as she struggled to remain upright.

The weight of her skirts, however, prevented her from maintaining said balance for long and she found herself once more in her husband’s strong arms. The contact of his hands on her body as they were, wrapped securely around her mid-section, caused Jocelyn’s head to spin and she felt for a moment as though she were falling. Unfortunately, the coush ush of water up her nostrils and down her throat brought reality into sharp focus. She had indeed fallen into the shallows of the bay, dragging her new husband down with her.

The water was just past waist deep and after a brief struggle with drenched silk, Jocelyn surfaced coughing and sputtering. Shoving her waterlogged hair from eyes, she discovered one long-fingered hand outstretched. Looking up into the Commodore’s somber face and at his sodden uniform, Jocelyn Norrington did the unthinkable. She began to laugh. And laugh heartily she did, splashing about in the water like a child frolicking at the beach.

James Norrington, Commodore of His Majesty’s Navy was at a loss for words. Simply put, the woman must be mad. She was dancing about, if one could call trudging about in zig-zag pattern dancing, as though she had not a care in the world. The gown she wore was ruined beyond repair and likely cost more than one month’s wages. Yet there she was, smiling brightly. She most certainly was mad. There was no other explanation for it.

“Madam, control yourself. You are becoming a spectacle,” he said through clenched teeth.

A quick slap of the water sent a small, splashing wave into his chest. “I became a spectacle the moment you drug me down into this,” Jocelyn replied, indicating the water in which she stood. “Now I am simply enjoying the relief from this dreadful heat.”

“I dot dot drag you, Madam. We fell together.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Jocelyn regarded him curiously. He stood stiffly, shoulders back and chin up as though he were not standing in the shallows, soaked from head to toe. “No matter,” she said with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “I was uncomfortably hot aboard ship. Now I am not. So, thank you for coming to my aid, sir.”

“Madam, if you would take my hand, we shall be on our way. I do not wish to provide further entertainment for our current audience. If you please?” The Commodore extended his hand once more to his wife, praying that this time she had the good sense to take it.

Inside, Jocelyn was seething. The very nerve of the man, to address her like a child! Although they had been married for four months now, in reality they had only just met and he was already treating her like chattel. Deciding that if her husband was going to treat her like a child she might as well act like one, Jocelyn smiled sweetly and attempted to curtsey as she took his outstretched hand. The moment his fingers closed over hers, suggeugged sending her new husband sprawling into the bay once more, this time face first.

In an uncharacteristic display of anger, James rose to his feet then turned on his wife. With deliberate and predatory slowness he approached the young woman, who stood gripping her sides with mirth. Fat rivulets of water were running down his face and into his eyes but they were ignored as the Commodore bent slightly and tossed his bride over his shoulder without breaking stride.

An outraged shriek echoed across the bustling bay as he carried her from the water and dropped her unceremoniously and with little care into his waiting carriage. The moment Jocelyn’s posterior met the plush leather seat of the conveyance, she opened her mouth to tell her husband exactly what she thought of his rough and high-handed treatment. Anything she planned to say was cut off by a rough palm covering her mouth, fingers griping her chin with vice-like force.

“ot sot speak. Not one word, wife. Or I shall not be held responsible for my actions. Have I made myself clear?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The look in his blue eyes was that of deadly malice and for a heartbeat, Jocelyn felt fear seize her heart. What on earth had possessed her to do such a thing? Oh, God, she thought. He’s going to kill me. I’ve made a laughingstock of him and we’ve only just met. Risking a glance out the window, she saw her uncle doubled over, hands on his knees, laughing uncontrollably. The woman, who had introduced herself as Elizabeth Turner, was hiding a smile behind her hand. Several other uniformed officers had witnessed the display and were also trying to hide their amusement. Suddenly, Jocelyn felt sick.

“Please,” she said sullenly. “Please, stop the carriage.”

“I believe I instructed you to remain silent, Madam,” James replied without looking at her. In truth, he didn’t trust himself not to strangle the little chit.

“You don’t understand. I’m going to be sick,” she explained. One hand was spread out over her stomach while the other was pressed to her lips.

“Cease your playacting. It will not save you from my displeasure. And let me assure you, lady. I am most displeased.”

The word ‘bastard’ formed in Jocelyn’s mind seconds before her breakfast graced the Commodore’s riding boots. Tears filled her eyes as she continued to retch, unable to stop the heaving of her stomach. She was unaware that the carriage had stopped until her husband scooped her up into his arms with surprising gentleness and set her down by the roadside so that she could finish in the brush. Warm hands held her hair away from her eyes and a soft, but rich voice whispered soothing words in her ear.

Once she was certain that the episode had passed, Jocelyn wiped her mouth with the handkerchief James had pressed into her palm. “Why are you being so kind to me? After what I did?” she asked weakly.

A wry smile formed on his lips as he replied, “Because you are my wife.” At her incredulous look, he added, “I’m James Norrington, by the way.”