Fine Men, Chapter 6
Like Fine Wine
by
Full headers in Chapter 1
Beta: Nancy
Beta: Nancy
"Is this truly necessary, Mrs. Turner?"
"Yes, Commodore, this is truly necessary," Elizabeth insisted, curling her arm about his and refusing to let him back away from the threshold of the Governor's mansion. "'Tis not every day my husband is saved from death in the stormy sea by the commodore of Port Royal."
James wrinkled his nose. "Never mind that just half the day before your husband saved said commodore from the clutches of drunken pirates."
"Yes, never mind that," Elizabeth said. "You are the one we are honoring today."
James suppressed a groan and let her drag him along through the house toward the verandah.
"My father and I are indebted to you, Commodore," Elizabeth said. "We should have done this months ago, right after you returned, but Father was away on business, and it took time..."
"Mrs. Turner," James said, stopping and placing a hand over hers on his arm. "Elizabeth."
She stopped and looked at him with a smile. "Yes, James?"
"I could not in good conscience not at least attempt to recover your husband," he said quietly. "Jack and I both know how much he means to you."
Elizabeth's face was soft with loving appreciation. "Thank you, James. Ever so much."
James smiled crookedly. "You are indeed welcome."
Elizabeth looked at him appraisingly. "I hope in time you might forgive me," she said.
The segue way confused James. "Forgive? Whatever for?"
She just peered at him expectantly and raised her hand—her left hand, adorned with Will's wedding ring.
"Ah," James said as understanding dawned. "Well. I admit I was hurt. But that has passed since I have seen your happiness clearly," he said quietly. "I would much rather you have your joy of him, instead of settling to be merely content with me." It was a concept he had only expressed to himself some short time before the debacle of his kidnapping. A concept he felt he could now accept that someone else had crept into his regard.
"You are a fine man, James," Elizabeth murmured, gratitude clear in her eyes.
James allowed a small smile to curve his lips. Such an ironic choice of words. "Indeed."
"Ah now, such a lovely little moment, I find myself moved."
Sighing, James didn't even have to look. "Good day, Captain."
"Yes, 'tis, isn't it, Commodore?" Jack said gaily as he walked over to them and gave Elizabeth a peck on the cheek.
"Hello, Jack," she said fondly.
"The lovely Mrs. Turner, always a pleasure," Jack said, flirting so obviously that it was clearly affectionate and nothing more.
"Stop making eyes at my wife, Jack," Will said as he walked down the stairs. Elizabeth left James to join her husband.
"Ah, William!" Jack exclaimed. He meandered over to Will and wavered close by. "You can help out a fellow and point me toward the libations, can't you?"
James failed to contain his snort, which set Elizabeth into giggles. Jack turned on them with narrowed eyes, but the commodore had no trace of mirth on his face as he blinked at the pirate innocently. It was nigh time he offer Jack some of his own medicine.
"Now Commodore, don't be a bore," Jack tutted outrageously as James rolled his eyes. "I'll have you know this is one of the finest parties going on in Port Royal today."
"One of?" Elizabeth asked.
"Oh yes. There are always parties," Jack said, a smirk quirking his lips. "If you know where to look, savvy?"
"They're probably having a better time than we are," James said under his breath, drawing a strangled laugh from Will, who stood close enough to James's elbow to hear. James glanced to the younger man to see his repentant moue, and Will clapped the commodore on the shoulder.
"Come along, Commodore, if anyone deserves a drink tonight, it is you," Will said, leading James away.
"Easy, what about poor Jack?" the captain bemoaned.
"We've stocked plenty of 'libations' with you specifically in mind," Elizabeth said, trying not to laugh.
"Ah, a brilliant lady you are, dear Elizabeth, and I'll not stand for anyone saying otherwise," Jack announced as he took her arm. "Especially since you're improving with that sword of yours," he added out of the corner of his mouth.
"Will is a wonderful teacher, and of course, I am motivated to learn. One of these days I'll get away from Father and sail on the Pearl again," Elizabeth said wistfully.
"You do know, Mrs. Turner, that you're welcome anytime," Jack said, his voice full of graciousness.
"Thank you, Jack," Elizabeth said with a warm smile. "Perhaps soon. I am right now more than happy to keep Will on dry land. Especially since..."
"Since..." Jack wavered to the side as he lurched around to look at her keenly.
Elizabeth blushed and slid her hand discreetly across her body just below her waist. Jack blinked several times before snapping his head and shoulders back in shock.
"There's to be a Baby Turner?" he asked.
"Hush, Jack!" Elizabeth whispered frantically, looking around. "No one knows yet!"
"Not even William?"
"No, I'm telling him tonight. You keep your mouth shut, Jack Sparrow. I just wanted to let you know—I truly appreciate what you did. Truly," Elizabeth said earnestly.
Giving her a genuine smile, Jack rocked back on his heel. "I'm to be a godfather, then?" he asked in a comically hushed voice.
Elizabeth covered her mouth to muffle the laugh. "You and James, yes," she admitted.
The lines on Jack's face softened, and his eyes went far away. Elizabeth watched him with a growing smile until he focused on her again, and she covered it with a bright, delighted grin. "Come on, Jack. I made rum punch just for you."
"You're a fine woman, luv, and William is a lucky man, I must say. Were it not for him I believe I'd contemplate spiriting you away myself," Jack complimented.
"Why, thank you, Jack," Elizabeth said as they walked into the main lounge of the house.
..~~..
The warm Jamaican night throbbed with moisture, and James had to clear his throat as he emerged from the house into it. He had tolerated the party with as much good humor as he could muster, despite the crush of young ladies seeking his attention. Luckily Elizabeth had taken pity upon him and kept to his company for a large portion of the evening.
It was the toast in his honor that had finally broken his resolve to tolerate the event and no more, and Will's words in praise of James had caused the commodore no end of embarrassment. It seemed no protestation on his part would sway Will and Elizabeth from lauding him, and while he appreciated the thought, he rued their timing and plans to do so in such a public venue.
Which, of course, had been the point. James suspected Jack's hand in the planning of said event. It had been the pirate who had suggested the event's conception. And months ago it was that Jack had determined himself to revamp the commodore's image to Port Royal at large.
Here James felt he had only done his duty (and, in no small measure, his heart). While he could not regret his actions, he could regret the consequences.
Now that he was a "hero"—James huffed and rolled his eyes—there would be no end to the competition for his eye when it came to marriage. Young ladies and widows alike were trotted out for his hoped-for attention, and of course, the commodore was strictly polite... but no more.
Even Elizabeth had noticed, he knew, and she was amused by his reticence, especially since he had expressed his forgiveness of her choice to marry Will instead of himself. That did not stop her from making introductions, however.
Finally, after dinner and dancing, he escaped here to the terrace, ostensibly for fresh air, practically for relief, and in reality, a bid to ease his cowardice. He had kissed more hands this evening than the full six months past.
He raised his wine glass, filled with water since he'd been plied with liquor all evening, and took a small sip, looking out over the harbor. From the vantage point of the governor's mansion, one could see most of Port Royal. What most caught his eye was the Black Pearl, moored safely at the docks.
And her captain was here, wining and dining and generally carousing, though politely and mostly discreetly, especially for Jack Sparrow. It seemed that Jack had learned discretion at some point, though he rarely chose to exercise it.
Jack. The man was never far from James's thoughts, a fact that stymied him more often than not. It was not only the man's prankster image and flair for the dramatic; it was the hardy soul beneath the fanciful exterior. The strength and surety of a man who knew himself and his place in the world. It appealed to James like nothing had in a long, long time.
Buried in his musings, he didn't hear the footsteps upon the stone until two men joined him at the railing.
"We see that Captain Sparrow is here this evening," George said.
"Dressed to the nines, even," Thomas said.
"Quite fine," George added.
James raised an eyebrow, amused. "Searching for companionship?" he nudged in jest.
Thomas's jaw dropped as George choked on his next words. "James!" he managed to get out as the commodore chuckled.
"That was uncalled for," Thomas said crossly.
"Perhaps it's you who searches for companionship," George said. "After all, many unattached, available young ladies in attendance this evening."
Now they laughed as James's nose wrinkled. "Indeed," he muttered.
"Surely you might seek a woman to take to wife, James. It's been almost a year since the Turners wed," George said.
"Have you no interest in finding a heart to match your own?" Thomas asked. "Isn't that a choice to make to better your life? To accomplish a goal of your own setting?"
James sighed and looked out into the evening. "Yes to all, and well you know it, but all this fawning and simpering and coquettishness grates on my nerves."
"Yes, I suppose it would," George said. "Since you are better drawn to strength and character."
James jerked his chin about. "There are women with those qualities. Perhaps even here."
"Perhaps," George allowed.
"We've not seen any this evening," Thomas said under his breath. James raised an eyebrow sharply. "Other than Mrs. Turner, who of course exhibits those qualities," Thomas added energetically.
James snorted and took a drink of his water. "I believe it was present company that advised me to live my life and not just exist in it," he pointed out. "Accepting just any woman into my life would certainly be the latter."
"Certainly," George echoed, unsure.
"And not at all healthy for your extended well being," Thomas added sarcastically.
James rolled his eyes and looked at his two friends. "You two are set on pairing me with someone, aren't you?"
"It's your choice, James," Thomas said intently. "A choice to proceed on the narrow path of your current existence or choosing the unknown, wider road of discovery in living."
James stared at the other man for a long, long moment. "I am not necessarily known for forging new paths," he pointed out. "Especially for myself. Think you I don't hear the gossip, the pity and the coercive plans of society?"
"Hang society and all those who treasure it!" Thomas said hotly. James drew back, startled that such vehemence would come from the kinder of the two lieutenants.
"That's not you, James," Thomas insisted. "All that posing and dancing and walking in circles for no real reason. You're a good man, James. A simple man. A Navy man."
"Don't you see?" George asked quietly. "You love the Navy and all it stands for. You love sailing upon all the blue waters. You are an excellent officer who has been promoted because you're exceedingly good at your job."
"Not because you enjoy it," Thomas added.
James stood blinking at them, baffled.
"When was the last time you lived life and simply enjoyed it?" Thomas asked, just another form of his current complaint. "Think about it? Please?"
The commodore looked over the earnest faces before dropping his eyes. "Life is indeed full of choices, isn't it?" he murmured, turning back to the darkened panorama reaching to the sea.
George and Thomas glanced to each other, still worried, but letting it go for now. "Good night, James," Thomas bid as they departed.
James stood deep in thought, contemplating the road his life had followed—Thomas's comparison stark in mind—since he had met one Captain Jack Sparrow.
A walk along the beach, stripped of his uniform and commodore's mask. A day of sailing, leaving behind the proper Navy officer and becoming once more a competent sailor. A sea battle fraught with danger that became a kidnapping and ended with a rescue. A heroic action nearly at the cost of his own life.
And a quiet change within himself, prodded and pried out by a single man, a pirate whose black heart turned out to be a hidden treasure of gold.
Quiet footsteps came up behind him, and, interrupted, James sighed, resigning himself to further fawning company. But when no one spoke, he looked behind him.
Jack stood there with two glasses of deep ruby red, watching him speculatively. Then he jerked into motion. "How about a glass of wine," he offered.
James shook his head and held up the glass of water as Jack joined him at the terrace railing.
"To you, Commodore Norrington, the hero of the hour," Jack toasted with a wicked twinkle in his eye as he set the other glass on the stone at his feet.
"Thank you, Captain Sparrow," James said dryly, and they both sipped from the glasses, and Jack frowned at his a little, drawing a chuckle from James.
"Eh," Jack dismissed. "I prefer my rum, and well you know it."
"Of course," James humored him.
"I saw your two men depart from here, did they seek to return you to the party?"
"No," James said with a shake of his head. "Merely to commiserate and offer support."
"Good men, then," Jack said approvingly. "And a good couple as well."
James's eyebrow jumped sharply, eliciting a grin from the pirate. "Anyone familiar with matters of the heart could see. Well, along with an open mind."
The commodore nodded slowly. Most if not all the upper-class denizens would never conceive of two men choosing a life together. Though James had some idea of the prospect from his years in the Navy—long sails with no women often saw men discreetly turn to others for companionship—he had no experience with such.
"Have you an open mind, James?"
Blinking his mind back to the discussion at hand, James nodded. "I do, actually. At least where those two are concerned."
"They're your friends," Jack said sagely.
"Yes. Fine friends," James agreed.
"A man will do much for those he counts as his friends," Jack mentioned before taking a deep draught of wine to empty the glass and exchange it for the other he'd brought along.
"You and the Turners are friends," James observed.
"Yes," Jack said soberly. "William and Elizabeth are good people with eager hearts."
"Aren't they just," James said, and he looked at Jack, studying him.
"Did you choose to sail to Sterret Cove because friend William requested it?" James asked quietly, staring out at the sea.
When he heard no answer, James turned his chin to see Jack, discovering the pirate looked at him intently. It appeared as if Jack were coming to some weighty decision, and James met dark eyes with his own as Jack leaned sideways, closer and closer, like he planned to share a secret.
James would remember later that they moved that last little bit to press their mouths together, tentative at first as if each expected the other to jerk away. But instead they shifted closer, facilitating the blooming kiss and flare of heat between them.
The exaggerated tilts of their heads kept their hats out of the way, but that didn't slow down the building fervor. James shivered as Jack's lips opened under his, and he shuddered as Jack's hot, wet tongue slid along his lips to ask entrance.
They sipped of each other for what felt like forever, and James thought the he might fall weakly against the balcony railing, he was so dizzy. But Jack's hand clasped his upper arm firmly, and the strength of it reassured the commodore.
James was about to turn mindlessly to push closer when Jack started withdrawing, pausing to drop three soft, gentle kisses upon James's lips before ending this first meeting.
"Ah, my Jamie, you taste like fine wine, and I'm of a mind to sample more," Jack said throatily as he slowly stepped back, an arm's length away, clasping his hands behind his back in a bid to keep them to himself.
Straightening, James lifted one hand to press slightly shaking fingers to his now damp lips. He imagined he looked stunned—he certainly felt stunned. He'd imagined it in the dark of the night, wondering what a kiss from this insanely captivating pirate would feel like—and his imaginings could no more compare than one might match the sun and the moon.
Jack tipped his head to one side as he continued to edge away along the balcony. He gave James—fine and fair James—a tiny, knowing smile. "Cat got your tongue?"
Staring at the pirate who'd stolen his breath along with his kiss, James slowly shook his head. "Sparrow got my tongue," he corrected huskily.
James watched Jack's lips part in surprise as something scampered through the pirate's eyes, those dark, dark eyes, that so closely resembled lustful want as to make James flush hot all over. James drew a deep breath and was about to speak when a group of four walked out onto the terrace to see the stars. A streak of disappointment and frustration cut into him.
The frustration echoed on Jack's face, particularly in the lines about his eyes and mouth. "A lovely evening to you, Commodore," he said, sketching a florid bow for the onlookers' benefit.
"And to you, Captain Sparrow," James replied. If his voice were darker than usual, perhaps the warm, humid weather could be blamed. Perhaps he could also blame his overheated and buzzing skin to the weather as well. He pinned Jack with his eyes. "I look forward to our next meeting. Perhaps then... I might sample some of that rum punch."
Jack's brow furrowed, and he tipped his head sideways in confusion. Feeling a rush of pleasure—because he'd confounded Jack and because he already knew what to do next—James slowly extended his tongue the tiniest bit to trace his bottom lip.
The commodore had never seen the pirate so totally flummoxed.
Jack literally backed into the wall and laughed nervously, swaying dangerously as he often did on land. "Too much wine," he murmured, peering at James with the oddest look of surprise on his face.
"Hmmm. Perhaps you shall become more accustomed to the vintage the more often you sample it," James said lightly, desperately knuckling down on the urge to snigger as Jack's eyes went comically wide. The commodore managed—with the help of the divine Lord, he was sure—to keep a straight face and merely raise an eyebrow.
Finally the pirate seemed to right himself, and after narrowing his eyes, Jack meandered over to poke James in the chest. "It appears I have missed the opportune moment," Jack drawled. "But I'm sure it shall come again."
"Indeed," James said flatly. He could feel the eyes of the other guests on them, and he kept his back and shoulders properly ramrod straight. Frankly, the urge to slump and curl into Jack's arms was nearly overwhelming, which was shocking in itself. James had never been the sort to cling to a lover—even were it another man.
Jack met James's eyes. After a long moment's silent communion, they both nodded.
"I'll be taking my leave, then," Jack said. He turned smartly on his heel and walked back into the house, leaving James with four other party guests, a half-empty glass of wine, and a crescent moon in the hazy night sky.
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