spacebabie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spacebabie) wrote2007-01-26 07:26 pm
spacebabie) wrote2007-01-26 07:26 pm
Entry tags:
The Chosen pt4
Previous Chapter Fever
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all related characters belong to Walt
Disney, Gore, Jerry, Ted and Terry.
Rating: T for now.
Characters: Most of the entire cast
Pairings: Will/Elizabeth,
The Chosen
Chapter 4: Retributions
-
James Norrington had spent the rest of the day thinking of how would be the best way to apologize to Elizabeth and William. He may have to purchase another gift or even invite them to a meal at his home before he felt he had redeemed himself in their eyes. He had certainly hoped he had not caused more harm to the lad.
He still could not fathom why Turner had burned his fingers. At least the blisters had started to heal as the day wore on. There was something off about Turner. It wasn’t just the way he smelled. There was some presence about him that disturbed James. Then again he had also disturbed the youth into being catatonic. It had to be because of what had he become.
James rose from his office chair when he heard the presence of someone approach. He wasn’t certain who it was. He had only memorized the way some of his own officers walked.
“Good evening Admiral,” Governor Swann knocked politely on his door. “May I come in?”
“You are always invited.” He had hoped Swann was not furious with what he had done to his son in law.
“It is good to see you,” Swann smiled as he entered the room. “It’s a bit of a pity I wasn’t able to see you last night, or even earlier.”
“We were both busy.” James did grant the crew of the Naiad a few weeks of shore leave. It would be adequate time for him to visit Tia Dalma and find a way to change him back to normal.
“Yes,” Swann rubbed his hands together. “You wouldn’t mind accompanying me for a stroll around the fort?”
A walk around the fort would help him clear his head. “You may call it a stroll. I will call it going on patrol.”
“Of course you are still on duty.”
-
James stared each soldier in the eyes as he and Swann walked past them before he nodded at them. Each marine was hard at work and when the stood at attention at the sight of James they stood with perfect grace and discipline.
“A lovely afternoon we are having?” Swann asked.
“Calm,” James glanced at the setting sun. It was still bright orange; it had yet to darken to a crimson shade. “Very calm.”
“I seem to recall having an similar conversation a few years ago,” Swann smiled. “But the weather was horrendous.”
“It was before everything changed,” James inhaled. Before Barbossa and his crew attacked Port Royal, before William Turner had broken out Jack Sparrow. Before Elizabeth had made a false promise to him, before Jack Sparrow had escaped from the noose, before the hurricane, before his resignation, before his brief decent into piracy, before he handed the heart over to Cutler Beckett and worked with Davy Jones, before that near fatal battle at the shipyard cove, and way before his transformation.
“Things may have been different if I never bought that dress for Elizabeth,” Swann stared out into the sea. “She wouldn’t have had that corset pulled quite as tight.”
“Or if she hadn’t worn that medallion that day.” The scene had replayed itself in his mind and he had thought about different outcomes for what may have happened if Elizabeth hadn’t fallen, or if she had and wasn’t wearing the medallion. “She still wouldn’t have accepted my proposal.”
Swann gave him a reassuring smile. “I do love my son in law dearly,” James froze. Was the governor about to berate him for what happened earlier that day? “I will never tell this to Elizabeth, but I still feel you would have made a better husband.”
James exhaled. “She never saw me that way.” He could still hear her words from when she sobbed over his wounded body. “She saw me more as an older brother.”
“I always did feel you were like the son I never had,” Swann chuckled. “It may explain why I hope you will find that special lady someday.”
“There are still many fine unmarried women here in Port Royal.” He pictured Elizabeth’s friends. He should at least apologize to the two of them, even more so to Julia. He rudely stared at her blind eye.
“I believe that may have been Elizabeth’s intention with her brunch. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was trying to have her single friends meet so you may start courting each other.”
“I am sorry about what happened to Mr. Turner.” James no longer cared if Swann was about to scold him or not.
“His health had improved recently,” Swann examined one of the newer cannons. “I was informed he was sitting up and his appetite had returned.”
“Excellent,” James stared at his sore fingers. The blisters had nearly faded completely. “What do you know of angels?”
“Angels?” Swann stepped away from the cannon. “As much as you do. They reside in Heaven, play harps, have beautiful singing voices, are beautiful, have feathered wings.”
“They can also heal people?” James has never tried to sing after his change and he wouldn’t consider himself to be beautiful, his hair maybe.
“I believe there have been stories.”
“Have you heard stories about angels having tails?”
“Tails?” Swann blinked. “Never, where have you heard such a thing?”
“There is a painting in the Turner house.”
“I believe have seen that painting.” Swann placed his hands behind his back. “I never have ever heard of angels with tails or seen such art before.”
“Neither have I.” James nodded. He would try to inquire where Julia had gotten such an idea. Maybe she knew something either he or governor Swann didn’t know. It may explain what has happening to him.
-
“Good morning sir,” Norrington nodded towards the Carlisle butler. “I am Admiral James Norrington of his majesty’s Navy.”
The butler’s eyes brightened at the name. “You may enter Admiral,” the butler stepped aside to allow him to enter. “May I bring you some coffee or tea?”
“I am quite fine thank you. I have come to visit either Mr. Carlisle or his daughter.”
“Mr. Carlisle is tending to more pressing matters,” the butler informed him. “Miss Carlisle is outside painting.”
Norrington followed the man towards the other side of the house and waited for the butler to open the doors and let him know if Julia wishes to see him or not.
“Miss Carlisle,” Norrington heard the man address the woman he wished to see. “Admiral Norrington wishes to see you.”
“He may enter,” Julia said.
“You may enter,” the butler held the door open for James.
James refrained from mentioning how he heard. Instead he thanked the man and stepped outside.
What caught his eye at first glance was the nearly finished picture on the canvas. The grass was a dull yellowish green with brown patches and had several brown, gold, and red leaves strewn about. The small cottage had an aged look that also appeared to have been cozy. The trees had really caught his eye. There were golden trees, along with several browns, red and even a few oranges.
“Astonishing,” he gasped before he was aware his mouth moved. “I haven’t seen trees like that in years.”
Julia inhaled, suddenly aware he was watching her. “Thank you Admiral.”
“I do not believe I have given you proper praise,” Norrington noticed the outskirts of a city in the background. “This wouldn’t be London by any chance?”
“Yes it is, Admiral.” She continued to hold her paintbrush in midair.
“Please do not be intimidated by my presence. Continue to paint. A fine masterpiece must be completed.”
“I am not used to such praise by folk such as yourself.” She brought the ends of the brush back to the canvas, filling in the last bare space.
“No one has pointed out your talent?”
“Just father, and Harold, or butler, and the maids, and my friends and Mr. Thompson.”
“He owns a store that sells such fine art,” Norrington nodded. He had passed the shop several times and even bought a few paintings for his house.
“Admiral Norrington,” Julia set her brush down. “I do not believe you came here to discuss my painting abilities.” She turned around on her stool.
“No I did not.” He said. “I did come to apologize for my behavior last night, but I have become distracted by your skill. It has been a while since I have been to England.”
“Shouldn’t you be speaking with the Turners?” Julia placed her gloved hands on her lap. Her dress appeared to have been a few seasons out of date and she wore an apron over it.
“I will, after I finish business here.” He cleared his throat. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have been staring at your eye.”
She shrugged. “Nearly everyone stares at my eye when they first meet me.”
“It is still incredibly rude and I should have restrained myself.” He felt his curiosity grow stronger. “If I am not being too forward may I inquire how this happened?”
“I barely remember it myself,” she stared at her feet before her eyes met with Norrington’s. “I was a child of only six years when it happened. I was outside playing by a tree and one of the branches was weak. I looked up when I heard a snap.” The next thing I knew I was in my bed and half my head was bandaged up.”
“I am sorry,” Norrington wished he could have come up with something else to say.
“It could have been worse. The doctor said I am lucky I did not loose my eye and for all I know I could have been killed.”
“Someone may have been watching over you,” James stared up at the sky.
“My father said my mother prevented it from being worse,” she smiled.
“You have told me you were the one who painted that picture of the angel at the Turner house.”
She nodded. “I did.”
“I never told you how beautiful it was, nor did I get a chance to ask about your inspiration.”
“My inspiration?” She blinked.
“I have never seen painting of an angel where the angel also had a tail.”
“Oh,” she shifted on her stool. “Elizabeth had also asked about it. I told her it was in a dream.”
“A dream,” Norrington repeated. “Did this angel heal those who are injured?”
“It has been a while since I had that dream. I only can remember the details of the angel.”
“It is not important. I have come here to apologize and I have done so.”
She nodded. “Would you care for a cup of tea before you leave.”
“No thank you,” he smiled. “I still have one more place to visit.”
-
Elizabeth tried to ignore the restless stomping from her husband as he moved around the house and tried to concentrate on her embroidery. She had never paid too much attention to her lessons involving a needle and a thread and it was a difficult task enough without her husband adding more distractions.
“William,” she spoke sharply. “I am pleased to see that you have recovered, but could you please not make such sounds?”
“What sounds?” He asked as he continued to pace.
“Your feet are too heavy.” She stared at the image of a bird she was making. “I’m having trouble.”
“Sorry if you were too busy reading about pirate stories to learn how to sew properly,” he folded his arms. “Mr. Brown would never complain about the way I walk.”
Elizabeth nearly dropped the needle. “Will,” she had never heard him speak in such a way towards her.
“I’m sorry,” he scratched his head. “I need to be at work.”
“The doctor felt you needed another day’s rest. If you are not too busy you could go to the market and purchase some eggs and bread.”
“I haven’t cleaned my sword in a while,” His eyes brightened. “Nor have I cleaned my pistol and my father’s knife needs to be cleaned.”
“Please do that outside.”
“I plan to,” Will smiled. “I need the fresh air.”
Elizabeth sat back and exhaled in relief. Now she could finish. She weaved the needle between the cloth; eyes were completely focused on the picture she was trying to create.
She cursed under breath when she heard the knock on the front door.
“Do not trouble yourself,” Estrella raced to the front door. “Good evening Admiral Norrington.”
Elizabeth set her embroidery down. It appears she would not finish the task that day at all. “Invite him in, and Estrella, bring us some refreshments.”
“You do not have to trouble yourself,” James said from the entrance. “I will not be long.”
“Good afternoon James,” Elizabeth greeted. She no longer felt any anger towards him. She knew he did not mean to hurt Will and was only trying to help.
“Good afternoon Elizabeth,” James nodded towards her. “I have come to offer my apologies for causing your husband even more pain.”
“I accept,” she had a feeling this was the reason for his visit. “I hope you accept my apology if I had appeared short with you yesterday.”
“Thank you, although I feel you did not have to offer such words,” he straightened his cravat. “I have erred greater and as an extension of my words, I want to invite you and Will to dinner at my house this evening.”
“Thank you,” it had been a while since she had dined with James. “I am not sure if tonight will be good. The doctor wanted Will to stay at the house for another day.”
“I understand. Tomorrow evening then?”
“We will be there,” she refrained from embracing him. That would have been to forward on her part. She did enjoy the fragrance of what soap he had been using. “I will let my husband know.”
“Stay well, Elizabeth,” James smiled before he took a step back.
“Have a good day, James,” she closed the door.
“Another visit from the admiral?” Will asked from behind.
Elizabeth spun around. “You nearly frightened me.”
“I am sorry,” he was leaning against the wall. “I was curious about our guest.”
“It was James. He had come to apologize for last night and to invite us to dinner at his home tomorrow.”
“And you will be going?” He raised an eyebrow.
“We will be going. He invited the both of us.”
“It sounds like it will be a fine evening.” Will stepped away from the wall. “He will be regaling us with his
fine stories about the navy. I will bore us all and you will talk about your embroidery.” He mentioned Elizabeth’s craft in a not serious tone.
“Don’t be like this. We can talk about old times and horses. We all love horses, and swords.”
“We can even talk about how you fished him out of pig slop and when he smelled worse than Jack.”
“Stop it,” she glared at him. “He is no longer like that. In fact I am hoping you ask him what kind of soap he uses.”
“So I can smell like your admiral?”
“As long as we respect the king and the British flag he is our admiral,” she couldn’t believe it. Was her husband jealous of James? “And I want you to ask him because I want to use it on myself.”
“You enjoyed the way he smells?” He approached her. “You were that close?”
“We only stood inches apart.” She stood back.
“I am not certain if I want you to attend this dinner and I don’t think I want you to go.”
“Perhaps Estrella and I should both go to the market.” She did not like the way her husband stared at her. She knew it had to be a trick from the sunlight, but his eyes almost appeared red and his eyeteeth looked longer.
“As long as you are not alone.”
“Estrella,” Elizabeth called to her maid. “I want you to accompany me to the market.” She turned back to her husband. “You can finish cleaning your weapons.”
“I think I will.” He smiled. “Remember what I told you.”
Elizabeth felt herself reaching for the door. She was certain her husband was not himself.
-
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all related characters belong to Walt
Disney, Gore, Jerry, Ted and Terry.
Rating: T for now.
Characters: Most of the entire cast
Pairings: Will/Elizabeth,
The Chosen
Chapter 4: Retributions
-
James Norrington had spent the rest of the day thinking of how would be the best way to apologize to Elizabeth and William. He may have to purchase another gift or even invite them to a meal at his home before he felt he had redeemed himself in their eyes. He had certainly hoped he had not caused more harm to the lad.
He still could not fathom why Turner had burned his fingers. At least the blisters had started to heal as the day wore on. There was something off about Turner. It wasn’t just the way he smelled. There was some presence about him that disturbed James. Then again he had also disturbed the youth into being catatonic. It had to be because of what had he become.
James rose from his office chair when he heard the presence of someone approach. He wasn’t certain who it was. He had only memorized the way some of his own officers walked.
“Good evening Admiral,” Governor Swann knocked politely on his door. “May I come in?”
“You are always invited.” He had hoped Swann was not furious with what he had done to his son in law.
“It is good to see you,” Swann smiled as he entered the room. “It’s a bit of a pity I wasn’t able to see you last night, or even earlier.”
“We were both busy.” James did grant the crew of the Naiad a few weeks of shore leave. It would be adequate time for him to visit Tia Dalma and find a way to change him back to normal.
“Yes,” Swann rubbed his hands together. “You wouldn’t mind accompanying me for a stroll around the fort?”
A walk around the fort would help him clear his head. “You may call it a stroll. I will call it going on patrol.”
“Of course you are still on duty.”
-
James stared each soldier in the eyes as he and Swann walked past them before he nodded at them. Each marine was hard at work and when the stood at attention at the sight of James they stood with perfect grace and discipline.
“A lovely afternoon we are having?” Swann asked.
“Calm,” James glanced at the setting sun. It was still bright orange; it had yet to darken to a crimson shade. “Very calm.”
“I seem to recall having an similar conversation a few years ago,” Swann smiled. “But the weather was horrendous.”
“It was before everything changed,” James inhaled. Before Barbossa and his crew attacked Port Royal, before William Turner had broken out Jack Sparrow. Before Elizabeth had made a false promise to him, before Jack Sparrow had escaped from the noose, before the hurricane, before his resignation, before his brief decent into piracy, before he handed the heart over to Cutler Beckett and worked with Davy Jones, before that near fatal battle at the shipyard cove, and way before his transformation.
“Things may have been different if I never bought that dress for Elizabeth,” Swann stared out into the sea. “She wouldn’t have had that corset pulled quite as tight.”
“Or if she hadn’t worn that medallion that day.” The scene had replayed itself in his mind and he had thought about different outcomes for what may have happened if Elizabeth hadn’t fallen, or if she had and wasn’t wearing the medallion. “She still wouldn’t have accepted my proposal.”
Swann gave him a reassuring smile. “I do love my son in law dearly,” James froze. Was the governor about to berate him for what happened earlier that day? “I will never tell this to Elizabeth, but I still feel you would have made a better husband.”
James exhaled. “She never saw me that way.” He could still hear her words from when she sobbed over his wounded body. “She saw me more as an older brother.”
“I always did feel you were like the son I never had,” Swann chuckled. “It may explain why I hope you will find that special lady someday.”
“There are still many fine unmarried women here in Port Royal.” He pictured Elizabeth’s friends. He should at least apologize to the two of them, even more so to Julia. He rudely stared at her blind eye.
“I believe that may have been Elizabeth’s intention with her brunch. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was trying to have her single friends meet so you may start courting each other.”
“I am sorry about what happened to Mr. Turner.” James no longer cared if Swann was about to scold him or not.
“His health had improved recently,” Swann examined one of the newer cannons. “I was informed he was sitting up and his appetite had returned.”
“Excellent,” James stared at his sore fingers. The blisters had nearly faded completely. “What do you know of angels?”
“Angels?” Swann stepped away from the cannon. “As much as you do. They reside in Heaven, play harps, have beautiful singing voices, are beautiful, have feathered wings.”
“They can also heal people?” James has never tried to sing after his change and he wouldn’t consider himself to be beautiful, his hair maybe.
“I believe there have been stories.”
“Have you heard stories about angels having tails?”
“Tails?” Swann blinked. “Never, where have you heard such a thing?”
“There is a painting in the Turner house.”
“I believe have seen that painting.” Swann placed his hands behind his back. “I never have ever heard of angels with tails or seen such art before.”
“Neither have I.” James nodded. He would try to inquire where Julia had gotten such an idea. Maybe she knew something either he or governor Swann didn’t know. It may explain what has happening to him.
-
“Good morning sir,” Norrington nodded towards the Carlisle butler. “I am Admiral James Norrington of his majesty’s Navy.”
The butler’s eyes brightened at the name. “You may enter Admiral,” the butler stepped aside to allow him to enter. “May I bring you some coffee or tea?”
“I am quite fine thank you. I have come to visit either Mr. Carlisle or his daughter.”
“Mr. Carlisle is tending to more pressing matters,” the butler informed him. “Miss Carlisle is outside painting.”
Norrington followed the man towards the other side of the house and waited for the butler to open the doors and let him know if Julia wishes to see him or not.
“Miss Carlisle,” Norrington heard the man address the woman he wished to see. “Admiral Norrington wishes to see you.”
“He may enter,” Julia said.
“You may enter,” the butler held the door open for James.
James refrained from mentioning how he heard. Instead he thanked the man and stepped outside.
What caught his eye at first glance was the nearly finished picture on the canvas. The grass was a dull yellowish green with brown patches and had several brown, gold, and red leaves strewn about. The small cottage had an aged look that also appeared to have been cozy. The trees had really caught his eye. There were golden trees, along with several browns, red and even a few oranges.
“Astonishing,” he gasped before he was aware his mouth moved. “I haven’t seen trees like that in years.”
Julia inhaled, suddenly aware he was watching her. “Thank you Admiral.”
“I do not believe I have given you proper praise,” Norrington noticed the outskirts of a city in the background. “This wouldn’t be London by any chance?”
“Yes it is, Admiral.” She continued to hold her paintbrush in midair.
“Please do not be intimidated by my presence. Continue to paint. A fine masterpiece must be completed.”
“I am not used to such praise by folk such as yourself.” She brought the ends of the brush back to the canvas, filling in the last bare space.
“No one has pointed out your talent?”
“Just father, and Harold, or butler, and the maids, and my friends and Mr. Thompson.”
“He owns a store that sells such fine art,” Norrington nodded. He had passed the shop several times and even bought a few paintings for his house.
“Admiral Norrington,” Julia set her brush down. “I do not believe you came here to discuss my painting abilities.” She turned around on her stool.
“No I did not.” He said. “I did come to apologize for my behavior last night, but I have become distracted by your skill. It has been a while since I have been to England.”
“Shouldn’t you be speaking with the Turners?” Julia placed her gloved hands on her lap. Her dress appeared to have been a few seasons out of date and she wore an apron over it.
“I will, after I finish business here.” He cleared his throat. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have been staring at your eye.”
She shrugged. “Nearly everyone stares at my eye when they first meet me.”
“It is still incredibly rude and I should have restrained myself.” He felt his curiosity grow stronger. “If I am not being too forward may I inquire how this happened?”
“I barely remember it myself,” she stared at her feet before her eyes met with Norrington’s. “I was a child of only six years when it happened. I was outside playing by a tree and one of the branches was weak. I looked up when I heard a snap.” The next thing I knew I was in my bed and half my head was bandaged up.”
“I am sorry,” Norrington wished he could have come up with something else to say.
“It could have been worse. The doctor said I am lucky I did not loose my eye and for all I know I could have been killed.”
“Someone may have been watching over you,” James stared up at the sky.
“My father said my mother prevented it from being worse,” she smiled.
“You have told me you were the one who painted that picture of the angel at the Turner house.”
She nodded. “I did.”
“I never told you how beautiful it was, nor did I get a chance to ask about your inspiration.”
“My inspiration?” She blinked.
“I have never seen painting of an angel where the angel also had a tail.”
“Oh,” she shifted on her stool. “Elizabeth had also asked about it. I told her it was in a dream.”
“A dream,” Norrington repeated. “Did this angel heal those who are injured?”
“It has been a while since I had that dream. I only can remember the details of the angel.”
“It is not important. I have come here to apologize and I have done so.”
She nodded. “Would you care for a cup of tea before you leave.”
“No thank you,” he smiled. “I still have one more place to visit.”
-
Elizabeth tried to ignore the restless stomping from her husband as he moved around the house and tried to concentrate on her embroidery. She had never paid too much attention to her lessons involving a needle and a thread and it was a difficult task enough without her husband adding more distractions.
“William,” she spoke sharply. “I am pleased to see that you have recovered, but could you please not make such sounds?”
“What sounds?” He asked as he continued to pace.
“Your feet are too heavy.” She stared at the image of a bird she was making. “I’m having trouble.”
“Sorry if you were too busy reading about pirate stories to learn how to sew properly,” he folded his arms. “Mr. Brown would never complain about the way I walk.”
Elizabeth nearly dropped the needle. “Will,” she had never heard him speak in such a way towards her.
“I’m sorry,” he scratched his head. “I need to be at work.”
“The doctor felt you needed another day’s rest. If you are not too busy you could go to the market and purchase some eggs and bread.”
“I haven’t cleaned my sword in a while,” His eyes brightened. “Nor have I cleaned my pistol and my father’s knife needs to be cleaned.”
“Please do that outside.”
“I plan to,” Will smiled. “I need the fresh air.”
Elizabeth sat back and exhaled in relief. Now she could finish. She weaved the needle between the cloth; eyes were completely focused on the picture she was trying to create.
She cursed under breath when she heard the knock on the front door.
“Do not trouble yourself,” Estrella raced to the front door. “Good evening Admiral Norrington.”
Elizabeth set her embroidery down. It appears she would not finish the task that day at all. “Invite him in, and Estrella, bring us some refreshments.”
“You do not have to trouble yourself,” James said from the entrance. “I will not be long.”
“Good afternoon James,” Elizabeth greeted. She no longer felt any anger towards him. She knew he did not mean to hurt Will and was only trying to help.
“Good afternoon Elizabeth,” James nodded towards her. “I have come to offer my apologies for causing your husband even more pain.”
“I accept,” she had a feeling this was the reason for his visit. “I hope you accept my apology if I had appeared short with you yesterday.”
“Thank you, although I feel you did not have to offer such words,” he straightened his cravat. “I have erred greater and as an extension of my words, I want to invite you and Will to dinner at my house this evening.”
“Thank you,” it had been a while since she had dined with James. “I am not sure if tonight will be good. The doctor wanted Will to stay at the house for another day.”
“I understand. Tomorrow evening then?”
“We will be there,” she refrained from embracing him. That would have been to forward on her part. She did enjoy the fragrance of what soap he had been using. “I will let my husband know.”
“Stay well, Elizabeth,” James smiled before he took a step back.
“Have a good day, James,” she closed the door.
“Another visit from the admiral?” Will asked from behind.
Elizabeth spun around. “You nearly frightened me.”
“I am sorry,” he was leaning against the wall. “I was curious about our guest.”
“It was James. He had come to apologize for last night and to invite us to dinner at his home tomorrow.”
“And you will be going?” He raised an eyebrow.
“We will be going. He invited the both of us.”
“It sounds like it will be a fine evening.” Will stepped away from the wall. “He will be regaling us with his
fine stories about the navy. I will bore us all and you will talk about your embroidery.” He mentioned Elizabeth’s craft in a not serious tone.
“Don’t be like this. We can talk about old times and horses. We all love horses, and swords.”
“We can even talk about how you fished him out of pig slop and when he smelled worse than Jack.”
“Stop it,” she glared at him. “He is no longer like that. In fact I am hoping you ask him what kind of soap he uses.”
“So I can smell like your admiral?”
“As long as we respect the king and the British flag he is our admiral,” she couldn’t believe it. Was her husband jealous of James? “And I want you to ask him because I want to use it on myself.”
“You enjoyed the way he smells?” He approached her. “You were that close?”
“We only stood inches apart.” She stood back.
“I am not certain if I want you to attend this dinner and I don’t think I want you to go.”
“Perhaps Estrella and I should both go to the market.” She did not like the way her husband stared at her. She knew it had to be a trick from the sunlight, but his eyes almost appeared red and his eyeteeth looked longer.
“As long as you are not alone.”
“Estrella,” Elizabeth called to her maid. “I want you to accompany me to the market.” She turned back to her husband. “You can finish cleaning your weapons.”
“I think I will.” He smiled. “Remember what I told you.”
Elizabeth felt herself reaching for the door. She was certain her husband was not himself.
-