PotC Big Bang Fic: "Liberties" (5/7)
Title: "Liberties" (5/7)
Author: Luvvycat
Art: shytan
Characters/Pairings: Young Will Turner/Young Elizabeth Swann, Weatherby Swann; Elizabeth Swann Turner/Jack Sparrow (epilogue)
Rating: PG13/Soft R (at most!)
Warnings: Flashbacks to violent events in Prologue; minor sexual suggestiveness in Epilogue; everything else in-between is fairly mild.
Summary: After young Will Turner is rescued from the sea, Governor Swann (at Elizabeth’s suggestion) instals him as a servant in the Swann household. Despite their differences in station, the children find that they have much in common, and become fast friends. For two years the bond between Will and Elizabeth grows stronger, until an act of innocent impulse threatens to end that friendship and separate the pair forever. Based on my previously-posted drabbles "Skirmish", "Resurrected", and "The Gift". The J/E Epilogue is set six years after the conclusion of AWE.
A/N: Dedicated with my most profuse thanks and boundless admiration to my beta extraordinaire geekmama (whose invaluable input greatly improved this tale), and to pearlseed , whose comments to me regarding "Skirmish" inspired the Epilogue.
P.S. -- The incident that occurred "Christmas last" (referred to by Will in this chapter) was documented in my previous Young Will/Elizabeth fic The Christmas Stranger.
Previous chapters:
1. Prologue
2. Chapter 1
3. Chapter 2
4. Chapter 3
Chapter 4
What Mathilde had told him distressed Governor Weatherby Swann greatly. That boy, that foundling they had taken into their home-a boy he had practically come to regard as a son, and all but a brother to Elizabeth-had kissed his daughter!
Weatherby frowned, knowing it was all his fault, for indulging his wilful and wayward child. He knew how isolated she had felt back in England ... how deeply she had mourned the eagerly-anticipated baby brother who had died when his wife had perished in childbed, how sorely she had wanted for playmates. And, indeed, since young Turner had come into their lives, he had watched his daughter blossom like a long-neglected bud newly introduced to daylight, seen the sparkle return to her eyes, the rosy bloom of merry, carefree youth to her cheeks, the sun to her sweet smile. He had watched her become again the happy, lively girl she had been, before tragedy had been visited upon their family. So he had turned a blind eye to the potential dangers, and convinced himself that nought but good could come of it.
More fool, he!
The boy had forgotten his place, had aspired to rise above his station in life. And he himself had allowed it to happen-had, in some ways, even encouraged such a thing!
Even after that unfortunate incident last Christmas, when Will and Elizabeth had stolen away in the middle of the night, purportedly on an errand of charity, he had been (all too easily, he now saw, because he truly hadn't wanted to believe ill of the lad!) persuaded by Elizabeth to overlook the boy's transgressions, the wheels of forgiveness greased by the moving tales she had told of Will's late mother and her generous spirit.
Granted, young Turner had been on best behaviour since then, and after a brief period of separation during which Will had been essentially "on trial" in the Governor's eyes, Weatherby had written the incident off as merely a youthful lapse of judgment on the children's part, and allowed their association to resume (mostly because he couldn't bear to see Elizabeth unhappy).
Now, he regretted not tossing the young rascal out on his ear when he'd had the chance! Perhaps if he had stood firm, and done his fatherly duty then to protect his daughter, this current indiscretion, and the difficult decision Swann now was forced to make-a decision he knew would likely cause his daughter considerable heartache-might have been avoided.
The worst part of it was that he genuinely liked the boy. Under different circumstances … were Turner higher-born, a son of the peerage, with a secure future, a title and family fortune to bestow upon Elizabeth, Weatherby might have agreed that they, eventually, make a match, when the time was appropriate.
But this new turn of events … this over-familiarity, these liberties Will had taken with his daughter, could clearly not be countenanced, regardless of his fondness for the lad. Yes, he must nip this in the bud, and quickly, before further damage could be done. Elizabeth had just turned fourteen, after all. In a few short years, she would be of marriageable age, ready to be introduced to society and have well-bred and well-fixed suitors vying for her hand. He … and she … could ill afford to have her reputation ruined, at this stage of the game … or, rather, before the game had even begun!
No. That would be unthinkable.
The boy was practically fifteen. Plenty old enough to go out on his own and start learning a trade, make a livelihood independent of the Swanns' aegis. And it was high time that Elizabeth learned the ways that would serve a young woman preparing to become a proper gentleman’s wife. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he could secure both Will's future and his daughter's with one strategic move.
Though he knew it would break Elizabeth's heart for him to send Will Turner away-to be perfectly honest, he would miss the boy himself-he couldn't see that he had much choice in the matter. Elizabeth's best interests needed to be his first, foremost … indeed, his only … concern.
He determined to have his man make some inquiries amongst the local tradesmen; see who might have need of a bright and industrious young lad they would take on as a shop-boy, assistant or apprentice.
And he, himself, would make a point of speaking with Mistress Meriwether, posthaste, regarding the alteration in Elizabeth's educational syllabus…
* * * * *
Will was full of trepidation, a few days later, when he was informed that Governor Swann wanted to see him, as he had never been summoned to the man's study before. He wasn’t sure if that boded well or ill for himself; whether he should be expecting reward or punishment.
When he reached the study door, he knocked nervously and waited until the Governor bade him enter.
He turned the handle and eased the door open, sidling into the room with his belly all a-flutter with anxiety. “Sir …” he began, and was mortified that his voice cracked, “You wished to see me?” Belatedly remembering his manners, he swept his hat from his head, holding it nervously in front of his stomach as though to catch the butterflies raging within, which threatened to burst free at any moment.
As Governor Swann looked up, Will was relieved to see that he did not appear to be angry, but rather welcoming. “Ah! Master Turner! Please do come in.” He indicated a chair before the desk. “Would you care to have a seat?”
At least he wasn’t being asked to remain standing in front of Swann, like a recalcitrant schoolboy. “Y-yes, thank you, sir,” he stammered, taking the offered seat and placing his hat in his lap.
“I have some splendid news for you, which I hope you will look upon favourably.” Swann clasped his hands behind his back, and started pacing back and forth, slowly, as he spoke. “I realise you are at an age now when a young man is beginning to think about his future … learning a trade … earning a livelihood … making his own way in the world …”
“S-sir?” Will asked, confused.
“I know a bright and ambitious boy like you cannot be satisfied doing the menial level of work you've been given here. Mucking out stables, and such …” The Governor wrinkled his nose in obvious distaste at the mere thought.
“It’s good, honest work, sir, and I am more than happy to do it!” Will protested.
Swann made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as though waving away a bad smell. “Bah! You’re capable of so much more, Master Turner. Not just rough labour, which, excuse my saying, any cotton-headed dolt can do. I’ve always felt that you were cut out for better. A trade. A vocation. A chance to work with your hands, to create things, to have something lasting and tangible to show for your labours. I've seen the swords that you fashioned for Elizabeth for her thirteenth birthday. They are really quite extraordinary. You have an amazing sense of craftsmanship and an impeccable eye for detail, if I may say so.”
Will could only stare, and wait for the Governor to come to the point.
“To that end, young man, and with the utmost consideration for your future, I have made inquiries on your behalf, and discovered that the local blacksmith is in need of a boy to assist him at his workshop. Further, I have taken the liberty of making the necessary arrangements with him for you to be taken on as his apprentice, including paying Master and Mistress Brown a handsome fee to compensate for any expenses they might incur for your upkeep.”
The butterflies died, and thudded to the bottom of Will's stomach like a dropped anchor.
“You … you are sending me away, sir?” Away from here, away from Elizabeth …
“Yes, well … you will go and live with Brown and his wife. They are prepared to receive you tomorrow morning, at first light. I am assured they do have a quite comfortable space for you in the loft of the workshop. But, pray, don’t think of it as going away, my boy … consider it, rather, going onward to a new opportunity!”
“Thank you, sir. I’m sure, as you say, it is quite a … splendid … opportunity. But, if it's all the same to you, sir, I’d much rather stay here, with you, and …”
“And with Elizabeth,” Swann finished for him, his tone taking on a hard edge below the beneficent veneer. “Yes, well, I’m afraid that is not an option.”
Will was keen enough to pick up the undertone, and recognise it for what it was. “Have I done anything to offend you, sir … or to offend Elizabeth? Is that why I’m being sent away?”
“As I've already said, son, you’re not-”
“Beg pardon, sir,” he interrupted. “I know what you said. But I think I would much rather prefer to hear the truth.”
For a moment, Governor Swann's visage darkened at this effrontery, and he seemed ready to take him to task for his rudeness. However, under Will’s steady gaze, the Governor seemed to deflate a little, his shoulders drooping in resignation. “All right …” he conceded. “The truth.”
Will watched as Swann slowly took his own seat, slumping tiredly in his chair. “Master Turner … Will,” he said, gently. “You and Elizabeth have been companions for the past ... what is it, now? ... nearly two years? And I have seen how happy she has been in your company … happiest than I’ve ever seen her in recent years, and I know that is largely due to your friendship.
“However, both of you are getting older now, and, though not yet adults, you are clearly no longer children. It has not escaped my attention that you and she have grown inordinately … fond … of one another as of late. Nonetheless, your youthful zeal could very well lead to consequences that are both undesirable and unacceptable, if your interest in one another takes a more … romantic … turn.”
Will opened his mouth to protest, puzzled, but then a thought occurred to him, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. He closed his mouth, his lips pressed into a tight line for a moment, before continuing, cautiously. “Sir, is this about … well … about … the kiss?”
The grey eyes regarded him coolly. “Yes, Master Turner. That is exactly what this is about.”
“B-but …” he stammered. “It was nothing, sir! Just a little kiss on the cheek … between friends, sir! I didn’t mean anything by it, honestly!”
“The question is not what it meant to you, Turner … but what it may have meant to my daughter.” He fixed Will with serious eyes. “And what ill may come of it, if she takes it into her head that she is in love with you.”
“But, sir …” Will protested, aghast at what the man was implying. “I would never, ever do anything to dishonour Eliz-" He caught himself, revising the familiar to the more formally polite, "-Miss Swann!”
Governor Swann sighed, the lines on his face seeming to deepen. “My dear boy, you already have …” Will gave him a perplexed look, and Swann continued. “Are you familiar with the word ‘reputation’, Master Turner?”
“I-I believe so,” he said, warily.
“Well, reputation is very important, Master Turner, particularly for a young lady. Particularly for a young lady of breeding who hopes someday to make a good match in marriage. You see, boy, a lady’s reputation is a precious commodity where making a good marriage is concerned. As a general rule, gentlemen of means and high social standing do not marry young women whose reputations are in any way … tarnished, or whose … virtue … is called into question.”
Will felt his face flame. “And how does one little kiss … a simple show of affection … tarnish Miss Swann’s virtue, sir?”
“Because, Master Turner, virtuous young women do not allow young men … and common young men at that (no offence!) … to kiss them, on a public beach, in broad daylight, where anyone with open eyes and a wagging tongue can observe them.”
Will felt a flare of anger-both at what the man was insinuating in regard to his intentions toward Elizabeth, as well as his apparently low estimation of Will's character-and couldn't prevent it showing in his eyes. “Would it have been more acceptable to you, sir, had we done it in private, behind closed doors, where no-one could see us?” he said, sardonically and with adolescent heat.
Will immediately regretted his impetuous words as the Governor's face flushed bright red, and he seemed on the brink of a fit of apoplexy. “Do not be flippant with me, boy!” Swann roared, slamming his palm down on the desk so hard that the fixtures rattled and the inkwell jumped and nearly toppled over. “Not where my daughter is concerned!”
Will's eyes widened, his youthful ire evaporating as his heart suddenly pounded in fear. He had seldom seen the always mild-mannered Governor Swann so discomposed. In fact, the only other time he had seen him anywhere near this angry was during that incident Christmas last!
Seeing the look on Will's face, Swann relented somewhat, obviously struggling to regain his composure. “Have care, young man. My daughter is everything to me, and I will not have her future put in jeopardy because of you.”
He sighed again, and suddenly his face seemed markedly older, his voice worn and tired. “I do not mean to be indelicate, boy, but a parentless child such as yourself should surely understand and appreciate the fact that I will not always be here for Elizabeth …” Was that a shine of tears Will detected in the Governor’s weary eyes? “… and I need to know that her life and well-being are in good hands … that she will be taken care of, in the manner to which she is accustomed, after I am gone.”
Will nodded, suddenly feeling much more ancient than his fifteen years. He indeed knew what it was to be alone in the world, to be forced to make his own way, to fend for himself, without the help of a friend, without the succour of family. He would never wish that fate upon Elizabeth. He would die rather than see her come to ruination. He simply cared for her too much. And he owed this man, and his extraordinary daughter, a debt of deep and abiding gratitude, for saving his life, for inviting him into their home, for giving him an anchor and stability at a time when he had been lost and uncertain of his place in the world ...
“My apologies, sir. I do understand,” he said, quietly. “And I want what’s best for her as well.”
Swann exhaled, relief evident on his face. “Good. I am glad we are in accord on that point.”
Will nodded, his heart heavy at the thought of losing not only his best friend but also the only home he had known for the past two years, then asked, hesitantly, "Sir ... am I to be permitted ... to make my farewells to Elizabeth, before I leave? She will be greatly upset if I depart without saying good-bye, and I've no wish to hurt her."
The Governor's face hardened again. “I'm afraid that will not be possible, Master Turner."
Sadness flooded Will and, like the day his mother died, he knew that his life was changing yet again, his future being rewritten even as they spoke. "But we are bound to see one another, sir ... in town, on the street ... What shall I say to her, then?"
"Once you leave here, young man, you are to have no further contact with Elizabeth. And if your paths happen, by accident, to cross, you are to address her not by her Christian name, but only as ‘Miss Swann’; your manner is to be polite and formal, and you are to refrain from any form of address or behaviour that could be construed as being ... familiar. Am I understood?”
“Utterly,” Will replied, with sinking heart. Replacing his tricorne on his head, he half-turned to go, then turned back as another thought occurred to him. “But, sir …?”
Swann looked up, his face drained and sad. “Yes?”
"May I speak frankly, sir? As someone who also has Elizabeth's best interests at heart?"
The Governor's eyes narrowed at him for a moment, and long seconds passed before he responded, with a graciousness that sounded to Will's ears rather forced, "Of course."
“You've told me, quite clearly, what you want. But have you …” He paused. “Have you ever thought to ask Elizabeth what she wants?”
Swann's silence spoke volumes as Will left the room and headed to the servants’ quarters to pack his few belongings.
Author: Luvvycat
Art: shytan
Characters/Pairings: Young Will Turner/Young Elizabeth Swann, Weatherby Swann; Elizabeth Swann Turner/Jack Sparrow (epilogue)
Rating: PG13/Soft R (at most!)
Warnings: Flashbacks to violent events in Prologue; minor sexual suggestiveness in Epilogue; everything else in-between is fairly mild.
Summary: After young Will Turner is rescued from the sea, Governor Swann (at Elizabeth’s suggestion) instals him as a servant in the Swann household. Despite their differences in station, the children find that they have much in common, and become fast friends. For two years the bond between Will and Elizabeth grows stronger, until an act of innocent impulse threatens to end that friendship and separate the pair forever. Based on my previously-posted drabbles "Skirmish", "Resurrected", and "The Gift". The J/E Epilogue is set six years after the conclusion of AWE.
A/N: Dedicated with my most profuse thanks and boundless admiration to my beta extraordinaire geekmama (whose invaluable input greatly improved this tale), and to pearlseed , whose comments to me regarding "Skirmish" inspired the Epilogue.
P.S. -- The incident that occurred "Christmas last" (referred to by Will in this chapter) was documented in my previous Young Will/Elizabeth fic The Christmas Stranger.
Previous chapters:
1. Prologue
2. Chapter 1
3. Chapter 2
4. Chapter 3
Chapter 4
What Mathilde had told him distressed Governor Weatherby Swann greatly. That boy, that foundling they had taken into their home-a boy he had practically come to regard as a son, and all but a brother to Elizabeth-had kissed his daughter!
Weatherby frowned, knowing it was all his fault, for indulging his wilful and wayward child. He knew how isolated she had felt back in England ... how deeply she had mourned the eagerly-anticipated baby brother who had died when his wife had perished in childbed, how sorely she had wanted for playmates. And, indeed, since young Turner had come into their lives, he had watched his daughter blossom like a long-neglected bud newly introduced to daylight, seen the sparkle return to her eyes, the rosy bloom of merry, carefree youth to her cheeks, the sun to her sweet smile. He had watched her become again the happy, lively girl she had been, before tragedy had been visited upon their family. So he had turned a blind eye to the potential dangers, and convinced himself that nought but good could come of it.
More fool, he!
The boy had forgotten his place, had aspired to rise above his station in life. And he himself had allowed it to happen-had, in some ways, even encouraged such a thing!
Even after that unfortunate incident last Christmas, when Will and Elizabeth had stolen away in the middle of the night, purportedly on an errand of charity, he had been (all too easily, he now saw, because he truly hadn't wanted to believe ill of the lad!) persuaded by Elizabeth to overlook the boy's transgressions, the wheels of forgiveness greased by the moving tales she had told of Will's late mother and her generous spirit.
Granted, young Turner had been on best behaviour since then, and after a brief period of separation during which Will had been essentially "on trial" in the Governor's eyes, Weatherby had written the incident off as merely a youthful lapse of judgment on the children's part, and allowed their association to resume (mostly because he couldn't bear to see Elizabeth unhappy).
Now, he regretted not tossing the young rascal out on his ear when he'd had the chance! Perhaps if he had stood firm, and done his fatherly duty then to protect his daughter, this current indiscretion, and the difficult decision Swann now was forced to make-a decision he knew would likely cause his daughter considerable heartache-might have been avoided.
The worst part of it was that he genuinely liked the boy. Under different circumstances … were Turner higher-born, a son of the peerage, with a secure future, a title and family fortune to bestow upon Elizabeth, Weatherby might have agreed that they, eventually, make a match, when the time was appropriate.
But this new turn of events … this over-familiarity, these liberties Will had taken with his daughter, could clearly not be countenanced, regardless of his fondness for the lad. Yes, he must nip this in the bud, and quickly, before further damage could be done. Elizabeth had just turned fourteen, after all. In a few short years, she would be of marriageable age, ready to be introduced to society and have well-bred and well-fixed suitors vying for her hand. He … and she … could ill afford to have her reputation ruined, at this stage of the game … or, rather, before the game had even begun!
No. That would be unthinkable.
The boy was practically fifteen. Plenty old enough to go out on his own and start learning a trade, make a livelihood independent of the Swanns' aegis. And it was high time that Elizabeth learned the ways that would serve a young woman preparing to become a proper gentleman’s wife. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he could secure both Will's future and his daughter's with one strategic move.
Though he knew it would break Elizabeth's heart for him to send Will Turner away-to be perfectly honest, he would miss the boy himself-he couldn't see that he had much choice in the matter. Elizabeth's best interests needed to be his first, foremost … indeed, his only … concern.
He determined to have his man make some inquiries amongst the local tradesmen; see who might have need of a bright and industrious young lad they would take on as a shop-boy, assistant or apprentice.
And he, himself, would make a point of speaking with Mistress Meriwether, posthaste, regarding the alteration in Elizabeth's educational syllabus…
* * * * *
Will was full of trepidation, a few days later, when he was informed that Governor Swann wanted to see him, as he had never been summoned to the man's study before. He wasn’t sure if that boded well or ill for himself; whether he should be expecting reward or punishment.
When he reached the study door, he knocked nervously and waited until the Governor bade him enter.
He turned the handle and eased the door open, sidling into the room with his belly all a-flutter with anxiety. “Sir …” he began, and was mortified that his voice cracked, “You wished to see me?” Belatedly remembering his manners, he swept his hat from his head, holding it nervously in front of his stomach as though to catch the butterflies raging within, which threatened to burst free at any moment.
As Governor Swann looked up, Will was relieved to see that he did not appear to be angry, but rather welcoming. “Ah! Master Turner! Please do come in.” He indicated a chair before the desk. “Would you care to have a seat?”
At least he wasn’t being asked to remain standing in front of Swann, like a recalcitrant schoolboy. “Y-yes, thank you, sir,” he stammered, taking the offered seat and placing his hat in his lap.
“I have some splendid news for you, which I hope you will look upon favourably.” Swann clasped his hands behind his back, and started pacing back and forth, slowly, as he spoke. “I realise you are at an age now when a young man is beginning to think about his future … learning a trade … earning a livelihood … making his own way in the world …”
“S-sir?” Will asked, confused.
“I know a bright and ambitious boy like you cannot be satisfied doing the menial level of work you've been given here. Mucking out stables, and such …” The Governor wrinkled his nose in obvious distaste at the mere thought.
“It’s good, honest work, sir, and I am more than happy to do it!” Will protested.
Swann made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as though waving away a bad smell. “Bah! You’re capable of so much more, Master Turner. Not just rough labour, which, excuse my saying, any cotton-headed dolt can do. I’ve always felt that you were cut out for better. A trade. A vocation. A chance to work with your hands, to create things, to have something lasting and tangible to show for your labours. I've seen the swords that you fashioned for Elizabeth for her thirteenth birthday. They are really quite extraordinary. You have an amazing sense of craftsmanship and an impeccable eye for detail, if I may say so.”
Will could only stare, and wait for the Governor to come to the point.
“To that end, young man, and with the utmost consideration for your future, I have made inquiries on your behalf, and discovered that the local blacksmith is in need of a boy to assist him at his workshop. Further, I have taken the liberty of making the necessary arrangements with him for you to be taken on as his apprentice, including paying Master and Mistress Brown a handsome fee to compensate for any expenses they might incur for your upkeep.”
The butterflies died, and thudded to the bottom of Will's stomach like a dropped anchor.
“You … you are sending me away, sir?” Away from here, away from Elizabeth …
“Yes, well … you will go and live with Brown and his wife. They are prepared to receive you tomorrow morning, at first light. I am assured they do have a quite comfortable space for you in the loft of the workshop. But, pray, don’t think of it as going away, my boy … consider it, rather, going onward to a new opportunity!”
“Thank you, sir. I’m sure, as you say, it is quite a … splendid … opportunity. But, if it's all the same to you, sir, I’d much rather stay here, with you, and …”
“And with Elizabeth,” Swann finished for him, his tone taking on a hard edge below the beneficent veneer. “Yes, well, I’m afraid that is not an option.”
Will was keen enough to pick up the undertone, and recognise it for what it was. “Have I done anything to offend you, sir … or to offend Elizabeth? Is that why I’m being sent away?”
“As I've already said, son, you’re not-”
“Beg pardon, sir,” he interrupted. “I know what you said. But I think I would much rather prefer to hear the truth.”
For a moment, Governor Swann's visage darkened at this effrontery, and he seemed ready to take him to task for his rudeness. However, under Will’s steady gaze, the Governor seemed to deflate a little, his shoulders drooping in resignation. “All right …” he conceded. “The truth.”
Will watched as Swann slowly took his own seat, slumping tiredly in his chair. “Master Turner … Will,” he said, gently. “You and Elizabeth have been companions for the past ... what is it, now? ... nearly two years? And I have seen how happy she has been in your company … happiest than I’ve ever seen her in recent years, and I know that is largely due to your friendship.
“However, both of you are getting older now, and, though not yet adults, you are clearly no longer children. It has not escaped my attention that you and she have grown inordinately … fond … of one another as of late. Nonetheless, your youthful zeal could very well lead to consequences that are both undesirable and unacceptable, if your interest in one another takes a more … romantic … turn.”
Will opened his mouth to protest, puzzled, but then a thought occurred to him, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. He closed his mouth, his lips pressed into a tight line for a moment, before continuing, cautiously. “Sir, is this about … well … about … the kiss?”
The grey eyes regarded him coolly. “Yes, Master Turner. That is exactly what this is about.”
“B-but …” he stammered. “It was nothing, sir! Just a little kiss on the cheek … between friends, sir! I didn’t mean anything by it, honestly!”
“The question is not what it meant to you, Turner … but what it may have meant to my daughter.” He fixed Will with serious eyes. “And what ill may come of it, if she takes it into her head that she is in love with you.”
“But, sir …” Will protested, aghast at what the man was implying. “I would never, ever do anything to dishonour Eliz-" He caught himself, revising the familiar to the more formally polite, "-Miss Swann!”
Governor Swann sighed, the lines on his face seeming to deepen. “My dear boy, you already have …” Will gave him a perplexed look, and Swann continued. “Are you familiar with the word ‘reputation’, Master Turner?”
“I-I believe so,” he said, warily.
“Well, reputation is very important, Master Turner, particularly for a young lady. Particularly for a young lady of breeding who hopes someday to make a good match in marriage. You see, boy, a lady’s reputation is a precious commodity where making a good marriage is concerned. As a general rule, gentlemen of means and high social standing do not marry young women whose reputations are in any way … tarnished, or whose … virtue … is called into question.”
Will felt his face flame. “And how does one little kiss … a simple show of affection … tarnish Miss Swann’s virtue, sir?”
“Because, Master Turner, virtuous young women do not allow young men … and common young men at that (no offence!) … to kiss them, on a public beach, in broad daylight, where anyone with open eyes and a wagging tongue can observe them.”
Will felt a flare of anger-both at what the man was insinuating in regard to his intentions toward Elizabeth, as well as his apparently low estimation of Will's character-and couldn't prevent it showing in his eyes. “Would it have been more acceptable to you, sir, had we done it in private, behind closed doors, where no-one could see us?” he said, sardonically and with adolescent heat.
Will immediately regretted his impetuous words as the Governor's face flushed bright red, and he seemed on the brink of a fit of apoplexy. “Do not be flippant with me, boy!” Swann roared, slamming his palm down on the desk so hard that the fixtures rattled and the inkwell jumped and nearly toppled over. “Not where my daughter is concerned!”
Will's eyes widened, his youthful ire evaporating as his heart suddenly pounded in fear. He had seldom seen the always mild-mannered Governor Swann so discomposed. In fact, the only other time he had seen him anywhere near this angry was during that incident Christmas last!
Seeing the look on Will's face, Swann relented somewhat, obviously struggling to regain his composure. “Have care, young man. My daughter is everything to me, and I will not have her future put in jeopardy because of you.”
He sighed again, and suddenly his face seemed markedly older, his voice worn and tired. “I do not mean to be indelicate, boy, but a parentless child such as yourself should surely understand and appreciate the fact that I will not always be here for Elizabeth …” Was that a shine of tears Will detected in the Governor’s weary eyes? “… and I need to know that her life and well-being are in good hands … that she will be taken care of, in the manner to which she is accustomed, after I am gone.”
Will nodded, suddenly feeling much more ancient than his fifteen years. He indeed knew what it was to be alone in the world, to be forced to make his own way, to fend for himself, without the help of a friend, without the succour of family. He would never wish that fate upon Elizabeth. He would die rather than see her come to ruination. He simply cared for her too much. And he owed this man, and his extraordinary daughter, a debt of deep and abiding gratitude, for saving his life, for inviting him into their home, for giving him an anchor and stability at a time when he had been lost and uncertain of his place in the world ...
“My apologies, sir. I do understand,” he said, quietly. “And I want what’s best for her as well.”
Swann exhaled, relief evident on his face. “Good. I am glad we are in accord on that point.”
Will nodded, his heart heavy at the thought of losing not only his best friend but also the only home he had known for the past two years, then asked, hesitantly, "Sir ... am I to be permitted ... to make my farewells to Elizabeth, before I leave? She will be greatly upset if I depart without saying good-bye, and I've no wish to hurt her."
The Governor's face hardened again. “I'm afraid that will not be possible, Master Turner."
Sadness flooded Will and, like the day his mother died, he knew that his life was changing yet again, his future being rewritten even as they spoke. "But we are bound to see one another, sir ... in town, on the street ... What shall I say to her, then?"
"Once you leave here, young man, you are to have no further contact with Elizabeth. And if your paths happen, by accident, to cross, you are to address her not by her Christian name, but only as ‘Miss Swann’; your manner is to be polite and formal, and you are to refrain from any form of address or behaviour that could be construed as being ... familiar. Am I understood?”
“Utterly,” Will replied, with sinking heart. Replacing his tricorne on his head, he half-turned to go, then turned back as another thought occurred to him. “But, sir …?”
Swann looked up, his face drained and sad. “Yes?”
"May I speak frankly, sir? As someone who also has Elizabeth's best interests at heart?"
The Governor's eyes narrowed at him for a moment, and long seconds passed before he responded, with a graciousness that sounded to Will's ears rather forced, "Of course."
“You've told me, quite clearly, what you want. But have you …” He paused. “Have you ever thought to ask Elizabeth what she wants?”
Swann's silence spoke volumes as Will left the room and headed to the servants’ quarters to pack his few belongings.