Elizabeth sat by the hearth, sewing a small gown. The elaborate embroidery
made her fingers ache, but she was still enjoying the work. She had never
expected to take to domestic life so well. But then she'd discovered that
even domesticity could have a certain...joy and excitement to it.
Her elbows rested on the warm wood of the rocking chair, a gift from her
father when they'd passed the happy news to the future grandpa. Her wrists
lay as on a shelf before her, her belly's arc forming a convenient worktable
for her project.
Will watched her from the trestle table that filled the center of their
kitchen. The firelight underlit her features and he thought she was the most
beautiful sight he'd ever seen. A slight sigh escaped from him, without his
notice. Besotted, despite having been married for nearly three years, now.
James cleared his throat. "I think that I've overstayed my welcome,
tonight." He took a last deep draught from the ale tankard before him, and
stood from his chair at the opposite end of the table. "No, no, please don't
get up, Mrs. Turner. I'm sure William can see me out."
Elizabeth's gaze was fond. "Thank you for joining us for dinner, James. It's
so nice to get a chance to see you. You've been so busy of late."
"Oh, it's simply dreadful, yes," Norrington's smile was wicked. "Always
another pirate to chase down and hang. I'll leave you to your peaceful
evening and your sewing, my dear." He approached her seat, took up her hand,
and kissed it affectionately, and not without a certain small flirtation.
They had grown comfortable in their roles.
"Good night to you, Elizabeth," and James turned back towards the chair
where his cloak lay draped. Before he reached his garment, however, he
suddenly launched himself on a new trajectory, hurtling towards his host. In
a frequently practiced jest, he grasped Will's hand firmly as well, and
quickly brought it to his lips and gave it a brisk peck. "And good night to
you as well, William."
Will jerked his hand free and shoved James in the shoulder, but he was
laughing all the while. James turned and shrugged his cloak on, and headed
for the door.
One hand on the latch, he turned and bellowed, "GOOD NIGHT, JACK!"
From the loft above, came the reply, "What does a fellow have to do, to get
a little post-coital slumber around here?"
Will and Elizabeth exchanged amused glances. "See you soon, James. Best of
luck with the executions tomorrow," said Will.
"Yes," grinned the commodore, "There have been a rash of escapes from the
noose, of late. Something must be done about that. Something must be
done..." and off he went, whistling, into the gloom of the foggy night.