(no subject)
Title: Wishing on a Star
Author: june7rose
Pairing: James/Elizabeth
Rating: R
Warnings: R for sexual insinuations
Period: pre COTBP
Disclaimer: Disney owns all characters
Word Count: 2, 017
Summary: Answer to Challenge: What if it was Elizabeth who loved James and he was with another woman?
Elizabeth:
I awake early and James is still sleeping. I watch him and he frets in his sleep. Is he being attacked, is he struggling to hold the wheel in a hurricane, is he worrying about being marooned on a desert island? His heart is a mystery to me. But it seems he cannot get any rest even while asleep.
I slowly pull away from him and he reaches out with hungry fingers. If only he were reaching out for me, rather than Miss Devereux.
I’m so hungry, I could eat the sand, so I must try to get some food. I spotted some crabs in the surf yesterday but looking at them and catching them are two different things. Imagine how surprised and happy he’ll be when I come back with crab!
The only thing I can find with which to impale the creatures is his sword. I take it up and nearly drop it. How does he carry around something so heavy all the time? I carry it along, dragging the tip behind me.
I walk into the surf up to my knees and spot several of the creatures, and stab at them, but they are fast beyond reason. They catch onto my game quickly and run away only to disappear beneath the sand. They’re under there somewhere and I keep stabbing. I’ve managed to stir up enough sand that I will never see them, but have achieved nothing more. Then one last stab and I hear a crunch. I pull the sword out of the water, a large red crab attached! I am flushed with my success and imagine his face when he awakens to find breakfast roasting over the fire.
Then I lose my balance in the shifting sand. I’ve never been known for my balance and so I’m not surprised to suddenly fall and find myself in the surf choking on a lungful of salt water. The water is shallow and I’ve hit my knees on the bottom, scraping them with jagged seashells. But I’ve managed to hold onto his sword and breakfast.
I stand up, soaked, with knees that burn like the dickens in the salty water, but I am the victor. I am quite pleased with myself until I turn to see James staring at me.
His stockings are gone and he is barefoot, his breeches rolled above the knee. His billowing white linen shirt is blowing in the breeze, as if his hair, tied loosely at his neck. Without the wig and the uniform he looks like a different man, but he is indeed the same man because now he is giving me that look that makes grown men cry.
“Elizabeth, my cutlass is not to be used as a weapon against crabs, nor jabbed into sand and rocks repeatedly, unless you intend to render it useless as a weapon against anything else.”
“Your sword is safe”, I say, handing it back to him, a huge crab wiggling its legs in the air still attached.
“That’s not the point!” he barks. “That is a 20 pound sword you were trying to wield. You could have killed yourself! You could have drowned! You haven’t an ounce of common sense.”
“I was hungry”, I say and I hear myself pouting.
“You should have awakened me earlier if you were hungry. I can defend an entire city; I think I can get you something to eat.”
“I’m sorry, Commodore”, I say, “I was merely attempting to catch breakfast. And so I have…”
He looks furious.
“I apologize, Commodore”, I say, addressing him formal again. “I will not touch your sword again.”
Tears form behind my eyes, but I’ll be damned if he’ll see them.
He looks down and I follow his gaze. He is looking at my knees and he curses softly. Blood is seeping through my thin white chemise. He closes the distance between us in a moment and lifts me in strong arms, depositing me beneath a palm tree.
“I hardly think this is necessary. I’ve had a scrape before”, I tell him.
“I’ll decide what’s necessary”, he says and tears the ruffled cuffs of his linen shirt. “I…” he begins uncertainly.
“For goodness sakes, Commodore”, I say, annoyed, and lift my skirt above my knees. He ties the strips of linen around my bloody knees with great tenderness as if he were ministering to a child.
“You mustn’t go in the water again right now”, he says, “Blood is a temptation to every manner of sea creature.”
“I’ll cook your crab and bring it to you”, he says. “It is a fine crab”, he then adds, but he sounds displeased.
“Thank you, Commodore”, I say. I sound a bit displeased myself.
James:
Perhaps I should go sit in the shade and fan myself while she gets us rescued as well.
She negotiates with pirates. She swims like a fish. She hunts, but for falling and hurting herself, quite successfully. Apparently, I am entirely useless.
I put the dead crab on a rock and drop it into the low fire, then shake a burnt finger in pain and frustration.
She must think me ineffectual indeed to take all this upon herself. And worst of all, I cannot get that kiss off my mind.
Elizabeth’s kiss is soft and warm, and I dreamed of her all night. Dreams an engaged man has no business having.
I have acted like a boor. The lady has every reason to think me ineffectual and now has every reason to think me a bastard as well.
Does she truly think I cannot take care of her? Her low opinion of me is like a knife to the heart.
I’m dwelling on all this when I hear her cry out.
“Commodore! Commodore! James!!”
I jump up and run.
At first I don’t see what upset her, but then the black beady eyes belonging to a snake no less than 7 feet long become apparent. It is too late for her to move. It sees her and is considering the best angle for a strike.
“Stay still! Do not move a muscle! Obey me for once, Miss Swann, I don’t intend to explain to your father why I let you die of snake bite.”
My cutlass is too far away. My pistol remains with me as it did all night, but it got wet yesterday. I have no idea if it will fire or not, but there is only one way to find out. I would rather it were not a moment when her life is in jeopardy.
The snake slithers and she screams again.
“James!” she cries out again.
She starts to edge away from it.
“No! Stay still, don’t look at me, and keep looking at it. Try to stay calm.”
I stand behind the snake and stay perfectly still to make sure its focus is so strong on her, it hasn’t detected me yet.
I point the pistol and she closes her eyes as if I were going to shoot her. I fire and with the ear-splitting bang, I take a relaxed breath. She screams at the shot and opens enormous brown eyes. There is a small crater in the sand where the snake’s head used to be.
Only then does she scream like any other young lady in the world. She jumps up, shrieking. I grab her and hold her tight.
She holds on to me like a lifeline and then slowly relaxes. When she looks up at me, she’s herself again.
“Good shot”, she says with a smile. Her lips are inches from mine.
Then she looks away and I step back. “Is it poisonous?” she asks.
“Quite, a native to the tropics. I lost a man in Tripoli who couldn’t stay as calm as you. You did marvelously well.”
“I think I did poorly. All that screaming and shrieking. It could have bitten me a thousand times. It clearly didn’t have its faculties”, she says.
Her logic is again beyond me, but she’s safe.
“Commodore, I wanted to get some coconuts, but I would feel better if you accompanied me”, she says.
It seems ridiculous on a desert island, but I offer her my arm at the requisite razor-perfect 45 degree angle. She takes it.
Then my heart pounds as he puts her other hand higher on my arm. Like a schoolboy, I have the immediate impulse to flex a muscle, but wisely do not.
“Just there”, she says and we stop beneath thick palm fronds which block out the sun.
I reach up and pluck one down for her, then another and another.
Then she walks over to another tree and hops in the air trying to grab one. I stop what I’m doing and watch, hoping she doesn’t notice. It is very ungentlemanly of me to watch her struggle, but every bit of her bounces as she jumps up and again as she hits the ground.
I lean on an elbow up against the tree and smile.
She’s still hopping when she calls out. I look busy, hoping I wasn’t seen gawking at her like a common sailor. “Commodore, there is something underneath here”, she says and I wish she would call me James again.
Walking to her, I realize she’s right. There is certainly something besides earth beneath our feet. There are layers of scrubby grass and rocks, but underneath is a wooden door.
“Well what are you waiting for?” she asks.
I can’t help but wonder that myself.
I grab the handle and the door opens with the squeak of un-used hinges. The door out of the way, there are actually steps leading to a dark cache below. I climb down into the darkness. Bottles upon bottles of rum.
“Well”, she says, “If there is little to eat, apparently there is plenty to drink.” Her boldness catches me unawares again.
She follows me down, bold as could be, and grabs a bottle.
“You are a young lady and I hardly think it proper…” I begin but she cuts me off.
“Has anyone ever told you that you are overly concerned with what is proper?” she asks and walks back up the steps.
I managed to fortify our shelter. I managed to catch several fish. I managed to keep busy all day, but now the sun has dropped and we both sit around the fire that is now roaring thanks to a plethora of palm fronds.
Given last night’s impropriety, it is inadvisable indeed to start drinking rum. Surely she is unaccustomed to the effect of spirits.
But she uncorks her bottle and takes a deep swig. I know my eyes are about to pop out of my head at the sight, but I can hardly allow her to outdo me. I uncork a bottle myself. Perhaps we’ll both sleep well tonight.
Elizabeth:
The darkness chills the air but I’m warm as could be. My bottle of rum is half empty, and on the other side of the fire, as if staying as far away as possible, James is through the better part of a bottle himself.
We keep exchanging covert glances and finally he takes another swig and looks at me. “Come closer, Miss Swann, you are overly far away”, he says.
I get up and sit next to him.
“So how did you meet Miss Devereux?” I ask, at first he frowns, but then the rum loosens his tongue.
“I was a young man, just made a Lieutenant. I remember, she was in a jewelry store haggling like a rug merchant over the price of a brooch. I couldn’t look away…she was the most exciting thing I’d ever laid eyes on. Beautiful, conceited, fiery…”
“You needn’t go on, I have seen Miss Devereux with my own eyes”, I say, unable to keep the jealousy out of my voice.
But he goes on, as if he didn’t even hear me speak. “Every man in Port Royal wanted her, and most still do. She runs her own plantation, she’s a fine business woman, she needs no one. I was young and must have seemed appealing in some way. But that was 12 years ago.”
“You’re very handsome man, Commodore” I tell him. He smiles.
“Why are you forever calling me “Commodore”? I prefer you to call me James.”
“Very well, James”, I say. “I know how beautiful she is, but otherwise, what drew you to her?”
“I craved my freedom as every young man does and when every mother in Port Royal was pressing their daughters upon me, she refused to marry me. A Lieutenant rising the ranks is a proper match for a plantation owner’s daughter. But she wanted more…. she never cared that I was gone for months, even a year once, she never asked for anything. I found myself going crazy thinking of what she might be doing while I was away. And I would come home to those eyes. The color of the sea with the sun directly overhead.”
“You grow verbose on the subject”, I say with venom.
Again, he seems to ignore me. “But their light went out years ago”, he says sadly.
“But she loves you and you can finally marry”, I say. I will not admit to myself what I’m hoping to hear.
“I suppose so”, he answers. “We’re to be married. But as for loving me…no, I don’t think so. Alicia loves Alicia, and that has always been part of her allure.”
“You love her, and you’ll finally have her for your wife”, I say. I am about to cry. Damn it, why did I ever start this conversation?
“Do I?” he asks, but I know he’s asking anyone but me. He picks up a stick and starts drawing in the sand. “It’s too late”, he adds quietly.
Then he takes a deep breath and looks at me.
“You are no doubt soon to be married to your unnamed gentleman?” he asks.
“I suppose that’s up to him”, I answer.
“He would be a damn, pardon my loose tongue tonight, Miss Swann, fool if he didn’t propose the moment he met you”, he says.
“He is indeed the worst fool I’ve ever met”, I hiss.
“But you love him anyway?” he asks, and sounds expectant.
“I love him with all my heart”, I say. I get up and walk toward the water, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of my gown. I’ve done this to myself.
He joins me and I curse silently.
He keeps trying to look me in the face and I keep trying to look away. He cups my face and tries to make me look up at him.
“Please don’t cry, Miss Swann. Elizabeth. Please don’t cry, I cannot bear it. Do you think his heart is not breaking too?”
I burst into tears then, unable to hide myself however hard I try.
“Shhh”, he croons against my cheek and lifts me in his arms. He sits on the sand and pulls me onto his lap. He rocks me like a small child while I cry on his shoulder.
“Sweet, beautiful darling girl”, he whispers against my ear. “Don’t you know every man in the Caribbean would fight for your hand? In your position, you could marry a great Lord in England. Forget this man. You’ll find a better man than he, one who has been in higher places than he could ever dream of.”
“You mention everything but love, Commodore”, I tell him, in no mood to address him common. “I want no one but this man, the place I want to be is wherever he is, and would give anything if he could love me in return.”
“God…” he cries out, like a wounded animal.
“What if he were an honorable man and could never go back on his word?” he asks.
“What honor is there in a lifetime of unhappiness?” I ask.
He seems overly agitated now, his voice growing louder.
“And what if he were gone much of the time? Could you live with that?” he asks.
“Absolutely not”, I answer.
He looks down at the sand.
“I understand he would have to be gone sometimes. But I would ask him to prevent being gone as much as possible after we married. I would not have my husband away from me. How can anyone bear to be parted from someone they love with all their heart?”
“Love with all their heart”, he repeats. “This man is unworthy of you.”
I smile at him. “I love him, and so he is worthy indeed.”
“And if I were to kiss you again, Miss Swann, what would you do then?” he asks.
My heart is beating faster and my heart is in my stomach again. “I would hope it would be the first of many.”
He is upon me in second, his lips crushing my own. “Commodore…” I begin.
“Call me James, say it, say James…” he says.
“James.”
His lips are everywhere, on my neck, on my lips, on my cheeks, sucking at my earlobes.
There is a fierce sensation building between my thighs. I am burning up, and my mind says that I want him to touch me there.
I know I’m frantic. “I want you, James, I want you so much…”
He growls like an animal again. “Never in my memory has anyone made it more difficult for me to be a gentleman” he says through clenched teeth.
I’m giggling and nearly giddy. I lay back flat on the sand as leans over me and I cup his face.
“That is a pleasant sound indeed”, he says raising my hand to his lips and kissing it, “Why are you laughing?”
“Because I made a wish on the night you were promoted”, I say.
“A wish?” he asks, kissing my hand again.
“For this”, I tell him and he leans down and kisses me on the lips.
“Oh, James…” I sigh.
“We cannot do…what nature is telling us both to do now. You must go to sleep, Elizabeth”, he says.
He lies down and his head rests on my stomach. In moment, I hear his inebriated snores and his warm breath tickles my skin through my chemise. I run my fingers through his hair, then kiss my hand and hold it to his forehead.
“I love you”, I whisper and let the night carry it away.
Author: june7rose
Pairing: James/Elizabeth
Rating: R
Warnings: R for sexual insinuations
Period: pre COTBP
Disclaimer: Disney owns all characters
Word Count: 2, 017
Summary: Answer to Challenge: What if it was Elizabeth who loved James and he was with another woman?
Elizabeth:
I awake early and James is still sleeping. I watch him and he frets in his sleep. Is he being attacked, is he struggling to hold the wheel in a hurricane, is he worrying about being marooned on a desert island? His heart is a mystery to me. But it seems he cannot get any rest even while asleep.
I slowly pull away from him and he reaches out with hungry fingers. If only he were reaching out for me, rather than Miss Devereux.
I’m so hungry, I could eat the sand, so I must try to get some food. I spotted some crabs in the surf yesterday but looking at them and catching them are two different things. Imagine how surprised and happy he’ll be when I come back with crab!
The only thing I can find with which to impale the creatures is his sword. I take it up and nearly drop it. How does he carry around something so heavy all the time? I carry it along, dragging the tip behind me.
I walk into the surf up to my knees and spot several of the creatures, and stab at them, but they are fast beyond reason. They catch onto my game quickly and run away only to disappear beneath the sand. They’re under there somewhere and I keep stabbing. I’ve managed to stir up enough sand that I will never see them, but have achieved nothing more. Then one last stab and I hear a crunch. I pull the sword out of the water, a large red crab attached! I am flushed with my success and imagine his face when he awakens to find breakfast roasting over the fire.
Then I lose my balance in the shifting sand. I’ve never been known for my balance and so I’m not surprised to suddenly fall and find myself in the surf choking on a lungful of salt water. The water is shallow and I’ve hit my knees on the bottom, scraping them with jagged seashells. But I’ve managed to hold onto his sword and breakfast.
I stand up, soaked, with knees that burn like the dickens in the salty water, but I am the victor. I am quite pleased with myself until I turn to see James staring at me.
His stockings are gone and he is barefoot, his breeches rolled above the knee. His billowing white linen shirt is blowing in the breeze, as if his hair, tied loosely at his neck. Without the wig and the uniform he looks like a different man, but he is indeed the same man because now he is giving me that look that makes grown men cry.
“Elizabeth, my cutlass is not to be used as a weapon against crabs, nor jabbed into sand and rocks repeatedly, unless you intend to render it useless as a weapon against anything else.”
“Your sword is safe”, I say, handing it back to him, a huge crab wiggling its legs in the air still attached.
“That’s not the point!” he barks. “That is a 20 pound sword you were trying to wield. You could have killed yourself! You could have drowned! You haven’t an ounce of common sense.”
“I was hungry”, I say and I hear myself pouting.
“You should have awakened me earlier if you were hungry. I can defend an entire city; I think I can get you something to eat.”
“I’m sorry, Commodore”, I say, “I was merely attempting to catch breakfast. And so I have…”
He looks furious.
“I apologize, Commodore”, I say, addressing him formal again. “I will not touch your sword again.”
Tears form behind my eyes, but I’ll be damned if he’ll see them.
He looks down and I follow his gaze. He is looking at my knees and he curses softly. Blood is seeping through my thin white chemise. He closes the distance between us in a moment and lifts me in strong arms, depositing me beneath a palm tree.
“I hardly think this is necessary. I’ve had a scrape before”, I tell him.
“I’ll decide what’s necessary”, he says and tears the ruffled cuffs of his linen shirt. “I…” he begins uncertainly.
“For goodness sakes, Commodore”, I say, annoyed, and lift my skirt above my knees. He ties the strips of linen around my bloody knees with great tenderness as if he were ministering to a child.
“You mustn’t go in the water again right now”, he says, “Blood is a temptation to every manner of sea creature.”
“I’ll cook your crab and bring it to you”, he says. “It is a fine crab”, he then adds, but he sounds displeased.
“Thank you, Commodore”, I say. I sound a bit displeased myself.
James:
Perhaps I should go sit in the shade and fan myself while she gets us rescued as well.
She negotiates with pirates. She swims like a fish. She hunts, but for falling and hurting herself, quite successfully. Apparently, I am entirely useless.
I put the dead crab on a rock and drop it into the low fire, then shake a burnt finger in pain and frustration.
She must think me ineffectual indeed to take all this upon herself. And worst of all, I cannot get that kiss off my mind.
Elizabeth’s kiss is soft and warm, and I dreamed of her all night. Dreams an engaged man has no business having.
I have acted like a boor. The lady has every reason to think me ineffectual and now has every reason to think me a bastard as well.
Does she truly think I cannot take care of her? Her low opinion of me is like a knife to the heart.
I’m dwelling on all this when I hear her cry out.
“Commodore! Commodore! James!!”
I jump up and run.
At first I don’t see what upset her, but then the black beady eyes belonging to a snake no less than 7 feet long become apparent. It is too late for her to move. It sees her and is considering the best angle for a strike.
“Stay still! Do not move a muscle! Obey me for once, Miss Swann, I don’t intend to explain to your father why I let you die of snake bite.”
My cutlass is too far away. My pistol remains with me as it did all night, but it got wet yesterday. I have no idea if it will fire or not, but there is only one way to find out. I would rather it were not a moment when her life is in jeopardy.
The snake slithers and she screams again.
“James!” she cries out again.
She starts to edge away from it.
“No! Stay still, don’t look at me, and keep looking at it. Try to stay calm.”
I stand behind the snake and stay perfectly still to make sure its focus is so strong on her, it hasn’t detected me yet.
I point the pistol and she closes her eyes as if I were going to shoot her. I fire and with the ear-splitting bang, I take a relaxed breath. She screams at the shot and opens enormous brown eyes. There is a small crater in the sand where the snake’s head used to be.
Only then does she scream like any other young lady in the world. She jumps up, shrieking. I grab her and hold her tight.
She holds on to me like a lifeline and then slowly relaxes. When she looks up at me, she’s herself again.
“Good shot”, she says with a smile. Her lips are inches from mine.
Then she looks away and I step back. “Is it poisonous?” she asks.
“Quite, a native to the tropics. I lost a man in Tripoli who couldn’t stay as calm as you. You did marvelously well.”
“I think I did poorly. All that screaming and shrieking. It could have bitten me a thousand times. It clearly didn’t have its faculties”, she says.
Her logic is again beyond me, but she’s safe.
“Commodore, I wanted to get some coconuts, but I would feel better if you accompanied me”, she says.
It seems ridiculous on a desert island, but I offer her my arm at the requisite razor-perfect 45 degree angle. She takes it.
Then my heart pounds as he puts her other hand higher on my arm. Like a schoolboy, I have the immediate impulse to flex a muscle, but wisely do not.
“Just there”, she says and we stop beneath thick palm fronds which block out the sun.
I reach up and pluck one down for her, then another and another.
Then she walks over to another tree and hops in the air trying to grab one. I stop what I’m doing and watch, hoping she doesn’t notice. It is very ungentlemanly of me to watch her struggle, but every bit of her bounces as she jumps up and again as she hits the ground.
I lean on an elbow up against the tree and smile.
She’s still hopping when she calls out. I look busy, hoping I wasn’t seen gawking at her like a common sailor. “Commodore, there is something underneath here”, she says and I wish she would call me James again.
Walking to her, I realize she’s right. There is certainly something besides earth beneath our feet. There are layers of scrubby grass and rocks, but underneath is a wooden door.
“Well what are you waiting for?” she asks.
I can’t help but wonder that myself.
I grab the handle and the door opens with the squeak of un-used hinges. The door out of the way, there are actually steps leading to a dark cache below. I climb down into the darkness. Bottles upon bottles of rum.
“Well”, she says, “If there is little to eat, apparently there is plenty to drink.” Her boldness catches me unawares again.
She follows me down, bold as could be, and grabs a bottle.
“You are a young lady and I hardly think it proper…” I begin but she cuts me off.
“Has anyone ever told you that you are overly concerned with what is proper?” she asks and walks back up the steps.
I managed to fortify our shelter. I managed to catch several fish. I managed to keep busy all day, but now the sun has dropped and we both sit around the fire that is now roaring thanks to a plethora of palm fronds.
Given last night’s impropriety, it is inadvisable indeed to start drinking rum. Surely she is unaccustomed to the effect of spirits.
But she uncorks her bottle and takes a deep swig. I know my eyes are about to pop out of my head at the sight, but I can hardly allow her to outdo me. I uncork a bottle myself. Perhaps we’ll both sleep well tonight.
Elizabeth:
The darkness chills the air but I’m warm as could be. My bottle of rum is half empty, and on the other side of the fire, as if staying as far away as possible, James is through the better part of a bottle himself.
We keep exchanging covert glances and finally he takes another swig and looks at me. “Come closer, Miss Swann, you are overly far away”, he says.
I get up and sit next to him.
“So how did you meet Miss Devereux?” I ask, at first he frowns, but then the rum loosens his tongue.
“I was a young man, just made a Lieutenant. I remember, she was in a jewelry store haggling like a rug merchant over the price of a brooch. I couldn’t look away…she was the most exciting thing I’d ever laid eyes on. Beautiful, conceited, fiery…”
“You needn’t go on, I have seen Miss Devereux with my own eyes”, I say, unable to keep the jealousy out of my voice.
But he goes on, as if he didn’t even hear me speak. “Every man in Port Royal wanted her, and most still do. She runs her own plantation, she’s a fine business woman, she needs no one. I was young and must have seemed appealing in some way. But that was 12 years ago.”
“You’re very handsome man, Commodore” I tell him. He smiles.
“Why are you forever calling me “Commodore”? I prefer you to call me James.”
“Very well, James”, I say. “I know how beautiful she is, but otherwise, what drew you to her?”
“I craved my freedom as every young man does and when every mother in Port Royal was pressing their daughters upon me, she refused to marry me. A Lieutenant rising the ranks is a proper match for a plantation owner’s daughter. But she wanted more…. she never cared that I was gone for months, even a year once, she never asked for anything. I found myself going crazy thinking of what she might be doing while I was away. And I would come home to those eyes. The color of the sea with the sun directly overhead.”
“You grow verbose on the subject”, I say with venom.
Again, he seems to ignore me. “But their light went out years ago”, he says sadly.
“But she loves you and you can finally marry”, I say. I will not admit to myself what I’m hoping to hear.
“I suppose so”, he answers. “We’re to be married. But as for loving me…no, I don’t think so. Alicia loves Alicia, and that has always been part of her allure.”
“You love her, and you’ll finally have her for your wife”, I say. I am about to cry. Damn it, why did I ever start this conversation?
“Do I?” he asks, but I know he’s asking anyone but me. He picks up a stick and starts drawing in the sand. “It’s too late”, he adds quietly.
Then he takes a deep breath and looks at me.
“You are no doubt soon to be married to your unnamed gentleman?” he asks.
“I suppose that’s up to him”, I answer.
“He would be a damn, pardon my loose tongue tonight, Miss Swann, fool if he didn’t propose the moment he met you”, he says.
“He is indeed the worst fool I’ve ever met”, I hiss.
“But you love him anyway?” he asks, and sounds expectant.
“I love him with all my heart”, I say. I get up and walk toward the water, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of my gown. I’ve done this to myself.
He joins me and I curse silently.
He keeps trying to look me in the face and I keep trying to look away. He cups my face and tries to make me look up at him.
“Please don’t cry, Miss Swann. Elizabeth. Please don’t cry, I cannot bear it. Do you think his heart is not breaking too?”
I burst into tears then, unable to hide myself however hard I try.
“Shhh”, he croons against my cheek and lifts me in his arms. He sits on the sand and pulls me onto his lap. He rocks me like a small child while I cry on his shoulder.
“Sweet, beautiful darling girl”, he whispers against my ear. “Don’t you know every man in the Caribbean would fight for your hand? In your position, you could marry a great Lord in England. Forget this man. You’ll find a better man than he, one who has been in higher places than he could ever dream of.”
“You mention everything but love, Commodore”, I tell him, in no mood to address him common. “I want no one but this man, the place I want to be is wherever he is, and would give anything if he could love me in return.”
“God…” he cries out, like a wounded animal.
“What if he were an honorable man and could never go back on his word?” he asks.
“What honor is there in a lifetime of unhappiness?” I ask.
He seems overly agitated now, his voice growing louder.
“And what if he were gone much of the time? Could you live with that?” he asks.
“Absolutely not”, I answer.
He looks down at the sand.
“I understand he would have to be gone sometimes. But I would ask him to prevent being gone as much as possible after we married. I would not have my husband away from me. How can anyone bear to be parted from someone they love with all their heart?”
“Love with all their heart”, he repeats. “This man is unworthy of you.”
I smile at him. “I love him, and so he is worthy indeed.”
“And if I were to kiss you again, Miss Swann, what would you do then?” he asks.
My heart is beating faster and my heart is in my stomach again. “I would hope it would be the first of many.”
He is upon me in second, his lips crushing my own. “Commodore…” I begin.
“Call me James, say it, say James…” he says.
“James.”
His lips are everywhere, on my neck, on my lips, on my cheeks, sucking at my earlobes.
There is a fierce sensation building between my thighs. I am burning up, and my mind says that I want him to touch me there.
I know I’m frantic. “I want you, James, I want you so much…”
He growls like an animal again. “Never in my memory has anyone made it more difficult for me to be a gentleman” he says through clenched teeth.
I’m giggling and nearly giddy. I lay back flat on the sand as leans over me and I cup his face.
“That is a pleasant sound indeed”, he says raising my hand to his lips and kissing it, “Why are you laughing?”
“Because I made a wish on the night you were promoted”, I say.
“A wish?” he asks, kissing my hand again.
“For this”, I tell him and he leans down and kisses me on the lips.
“Oh, James…” I sigh.
“We cannot do…what nature is telling us both to do now. You must go to sleep, Elizabeth”, he says.
He lies down and his head rests on my stomach. In moment, I hear his inebriated snores and his warm breath tickles my skin through my chemise. I run my fingers through his hair, then kiss my hand and hold it to his forehead.
“I love you”, I whisper and let the night carry it away.