(no subject)
Three months have passed and I’ve learned all sorts of thing I never wanted to know. Things I hadn’t planned on needing to know. Like how he would eliminate, how to empty a bedpan without losing the contents of my stomach, how to wash him, and how to prevent bed sores.
At first James stubbornly refused any ministrations but when it became obvious that was not going to work, Gillette was the only one he would let touch him. I was barred from the room while all this was going on, apparently at James’s request. Gillette assured me it wasn’t personal. “He doesn’t want you to see him like this. This weak. He’s embarrassed.”
“He shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of me, I’m his wife”, I said back, but respected his wishes.
But of course there is a war on and Gillette and Groves left almost two months ago. He has finally let me care for him, but I see him swallow his pride every time and it is painful.
Under normal circumstances, I would hire a nurse so neither of us had to go through this several times a day, but of course I cannot hire a nurse. I cannot go to the fort for any supplies. I cannot summon a doctor unless it’s the most dire of circumstances. Thank God for Father who requested laudanum for gout and brought it to the house. Father is watched every moment. He is allowed to walk around his gardens and allowed visit me, his poor widowed daughter.
As far as the French, and most of Port Royal, are concerned, Commodore James Norrington is dead. Gillette went so far as to set up a fake gravestone behind the church. How he managed that beneath a hundred French eyes I’ll never know. But Estrella assures me it’s there.
I have not seen it or anything else. I have not left this house for three months. Everyone presumes I’m taking it especially hard.
Estrella does the shopping and brings back the gossip. According to her, French uniforms fill the streets and La Marseillaise is sung in every tavern in town. I’m glad he can’t see it.
James is desperate for news. Desperate to know how Gillette and Groves snuck out of the harbor. Desperate to know if the English envoys ever arrived. Desperate to know if English ships are getting closer to Jamaica, if they are using the proper tactical maneuvers and on and on…I cannot answer his questions.
“Did my men get out on the Dauntless?” James asked me.
“No, no, another ship”, I lied. Knowing his ship sailed without him would crush him.
One day Estrella brings back new gossip. La Loup wants to meet with the widow of the Commodore. He asked her to ask me if he may stop by and offer his condolences. How did he know who she was? Spies are everywhere. Does he suspect?
La Loup. The wolf. And the man, I understand, responsible for the loss of my husband’s leg and nearly his life.
I want to tell her I will accompany her to the market next time with a dagger hidden beneath my dress, but instead, I tell her to tell him I am in far too much grief to receive visitors yet. I don’t tell James.
“I’ve brought some chicken to tempt you”, I say, sweeping into the room with a tray.
Since that night I first came back to our marriage bed, I have not left. Once I hurt him accidentally, but when I spent one night in another room, angry beyond words with myself, he asked me to return the next morning. Actually he asked me if I was angry with him. There are not enough tears in the world for how enraged I am that this happened to him.
“Chicken again?” he asks pouting. He accepts the dish and starts eating.
“I’m sorry, darling, the French have eaten all the beef”, I say.
His fork falls with a clunk. I never know when I’m going to say the wrong thing and I have done so again. He hates to be reminded that Port Royal is no longer in English hands and there is not a single thing he can do about it.
There is a brief knock on the bedroom door and Father breezes into our bedroom without so much as a “by your leave”. James does not like having no notice, and shoots me daggers. I was supposed to talk to Estrella about just letting him in the front door, but I forgot. But his desperation for news overrides his objections.
“Looking stronger yet, my boy”, Father says, putting a pile of books down on the edge of the bed. For his poor widowed daughter.
I start going through them. “Oh look, the Ancient Engineers.”
“Nice to see you, Governor”, James says, trying to be polite, but barely able to restrain himself, “What’s happened? The English envoys? Have you heard anything about my men?”
“I have no idea, my dear boy. They tell me nothing except what to do”, Father says, fuming.
James is horribly disappointed.
His hair has come loose and I tie it back with a ribbon.
“Don’t fuss”, he says, waving my hand away.
He used to look so gaunt and now his face is getting fuller again. I kiss him and walk with Father out of the room, saying, “Eat up”, over my shoulder.
Father links his arm through mine and we walk down the stairs. I know Father will share a bit more with me and leave it to my judgment what to tell him.
“You’ve done wonders, Elizabeth, truly. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you cared for the man”, he adds with a wink.
“We’ve spoken of so much, Father. I know so much about him now. I know how much he loves the sea. He’s even taught me how to spot the heading of a ship and when to go full sail and when to ride it out. We look over schematics and he explains everything. I doubt we ever would have spoken so much if this had not happened. I do care for him, Father, I do. Now what of Port Royal?” I add in a low tone.
“I am followed everywhere I go. I am followed here, I am followed on the grounds of my own home. I swear I’m followed when I go take a piss”, he says, then checks him.
“It’s all right, Father”, I assure him before he can say anything.
We whisper together conspiratorially. “Nothing gets in or out without the approval of La Loup”, he adds. “Fucking frogs, wait until…”
But he can’t finish the sentence. Wait until the Commodore can deal with them? That may never be. Even though I heard Gillette’s words, I suppose I didn’t really know that the Navy was rudderless without him.
“He tried to come here”, I tell him. “La Loup. To pay his condolences.”
“God Almighty, Elizabeth, you can’t let him in this house! What if he finds James?!”
God bless Father, but sometimes he is such a feather head.
I kiss Father good-bye and go back to my husband.
A month passes and I’m about to burst.
I am worried sick about James, about Port Royal, about our lives, about England…but frankly, I’ve been lying next to my husband for four months now and I want him so bad, I can barely stand it.
England will have to wait.
His ribs are healed, his leg is better, he can even roll over on his stomach so I can massage his back. I don’t see any reason to wait any longer. But God knows I’d rather do anything than embarrass him further. I know if I broach the subject with him, he will be uncooperative. Then I smile, remembering something my mother told me before she passed. Something she told me right after she and Father had a row.
“Talking between men and women never solved anything.”
Whatever happens to us or Port Royal, no one will stop me from loving my husband tonight. Even if the fucking wolf breaks down the door.
Night has fallen and Estrella has strict orders to stay out of this part of the house. I will not have him embarrassed in front of anyone else.
James closes his book which is his indication that I should blow out the candle. I do so and turn to face him.
“I was thinking”, I say. “I was wondering if…”
Oh fuck it all. I kiss him on the lips and he returns the kiss. My tongue slips gently into his mouth and he moans softly.
“James, I….can we…”
He stiffens. “I didn’t know, I wasn’t aware…”
We’re both tongue tied, this is ridiculous.
“That you wanted…” he says.
The word “me” is hanging in the air.
“Oh I want”, I say, nuzzling his neck.
“I can’t think of anything but the goddamned French”, he says.
“Well that’s insulting”, I say.
“You know what I mean”, he says.
“Another time”, he adds, “Another time, we can see if it will work.”
“Now is as good a time as any”, I say.
“I’m tired, my leg hurts”, he says, the excuses piling up.
“Your leg does not hurt. It hasn’t hurt for a month.” I touch him. He missed me too.
He tries to push my hand away but I tease him softly and he moans again.
James:
I didn’t expect this. I didn’t think she would ever want this again. How can I know she’s not just doing me a favor?
“I don’t want you to do this. You don’t owe me anything”, I say. I can’t admit even to myself how much I want her to deny that she’s doing this out of duty.
She takes my hand and guides it between her legs. God Almighty, she’s ready without a single touch. “Answer your question?” she asks.
My wife is aroused, in fact she’s quivering. What if I can’t? What if she knows for a fact it will never happen again? At least now I can delude myself that it can happen at some point.
“Elizabeth, stop this”, I say but she keeps touching me.
“Shhh, sweetheart, we’ll find our way together”, she whispers sweetly. Elizabeth.
Elizabeth:
His arousal grows, with or without his consent. He moans and cries out.
“God, Elizabeth…”
It seems best to straddle him so I can do most of the work. He’s almost shaking with need.
I climb a top him and settle myself. God, it’s deep, so much deeper than when he was on top. God, it feels so good to have him inside me again.
I rock my hips gently and he instantly joins in. His hips are as quick as they ever were.
“Elizabeth….”
I remember too well what he said to Gillette, that I would be thinking of Will.
“James, James, oh God, James…”
This sets him into a frenzy.
He comes hard and fast but is nowhere near satisfied and neither am I.
I had forgotten how strong he is until he flips me over on my back.
How this is going to work, I don’t know, but I know he has something to prove to himself and I can’t interfere.
He falls a couple of times and then on our sides, we make it work.
“James, God, make love to me…”
He gives an animal moan and we rock together.
“Oh God!” I cry out and orgasm for the first time in my life.
“Do you want that again?” he whispers hotly into my ears and his fingers start exploring.
“Yes, yes, please, please…”
It takes only a moment.
We make love until we’re both exhausted and fall asleep in each other’s arms. For the first time, he falls asleep with his stump resting against me.
James:
She wanted me. As a man, as her husband. Her passion was real. Perhaps a wooden leg wouldn’t be so bad.
She’s so beautiful, lying there asleep and she cuddles closer for comfort. She trusts me, and my heart soars. God, how I love her. If only…but I’ve got to get out of this fucking bed first.
Elizabeth:
Apparently I’ve been giving him the wrong medicine all this time because he wakes up smiling and moaning softly. For a moment, the weight of the world is not on his shoulders.
He kisses me awake. I rub noses with him, “Eskimo kissing”, Father used to call it.
“Oh you don’t want to do that. My nose beats yours any day, no contest”, he says, wrapping an arm around me.
“Are you saying something bad about my handsome husband?” I ask and his face lights up.
Suddenly there is a quick knock and the door swings open.
Father gasps and stands there stuttering. James and myself are too frozen to even pull up the covers.
“So sorry, so sorry, will come back later…” Father says all at once and literally runs away.
We both burst into laughter at the same moment.
“Well that’ll teach him”, James says.
He hasn’t laughed like that in as long as I can remember.
It’s another two months come and gone and two things are certain. The French are batards as they would say, and I look worse than James ever did.
The contents of my stomach come up every morning. James looks at me oddly but says nothing until one night. “Elizabeth, are you well? You are worrying me.”
To see him wringing the covers twists my heart.
“I will be fine eventually”, I say and kiss the tip of his nose. He still hasn’t caught on.
“I’m fairly certain I’m carrying your child.”
I see the entire gamut of human emotions cross his face. His mouth falls open, his eyes light up, but it ends in a frown. I rub the spot between his eyes.
“Why that look?” I ask.
“Do you want our child to sing La Marseillaise? To learn French in school instead of English? ”
He slams his fist into the bedside table and it nearly falls over.
“I’ve got to get out of this fucking bed.”
“If I could, I would have had a doctor here long ago about getting you up and moving, but no one can know you’re alive”, I say. And thank God, he’s safe here with me.
“For the moment”, he says, and it worries me.
James has sent me out to the market with Estrella three times now and I’m starting to get suspicious.
I come home one day and find Father waiting outside our bedroom.
“The doctor is inside”, he says.
“Oh God, no, James, James…”
“Shhh”, he says, patting my arm and holding me back. “He’s fine.”
“Elizabeth?” It’s James and I tear my arm from Father’s grasp and go inside.
He’s standing. My husband is standing.
“I didn’t want you to see until I had it down” he says, his face lit up with pride.
Then he walks to me, he actually walks. He wears long pants instead of breeches and with his boots on, it’s hard to see anything is amiss.
“It’s a perfect fit”, the doctor says.
But I know what this is about immediately. I cannot believe Father would be party to this.
“No…” I breathe.
“He’s well and it’s time if we’re ever going to get our city back”, Father says.
“I won’t let you…” I say, already in sobbing tears.
“Sweetheart, I must”, James says.
“No…”
Then Father speaks again. “It’s time for Commodore Norrington to rise from the dead.”