How Many Steps in a Day?

Seven hundred and twenty four. That is the number of days it has been since I have seen William Turner or the venerable Lieutenant James Norrington. It is hard to believe that so much time has passed, and it is also a wonder that our paths have not crossed. Papa has made certain of that. My days have been filled by idle past times including my continued instruction in French, other such useless activities as embroidery and sewing, as well as a course on etiquette. As I said, it has been a long two years.

So many things have changed in two years however, many of them good. Body parts that once felt dysfunctional and out of place have settled. Unnaturally large hands and feet have become less ungainly, and one might even say, dainty. One morning, a year ago or so I woke up, laced up a dress, and found I had more curves than sometime before. It delighted me to no end to know that I was a woman not just in looks anymore but in other ways as well. But I shouldn’t talk about that of course, it’s not proper for a lady to do so.

I blot the ink from my quill on a separate sheet of parchment before signing the letter with a flourish. The noonday sun streams in through the open window, and I gaze out of it for a minute before folding the letter and sealing it with a wax stamp. Charlotte knocks on the door just as I stand up.

“I’m going to the fort. The men have brought in goods from the East Indies, and I thought maybe I’d find something exotic to buy. Would you like to come along?”

I set the letter down, “Yes, of course!”

Any chance to get out of the house is a welcome one. Placing a few coins into the hidden pocket in my gown I check my hair in the mirror, add a dab of colour to my lips, and take up my fan in case it should get hot while we’re out under the Jamaican sun.

“Do you think they’ll have silk or feathers?” I ask Charlotte as I follow her down the corridor and onto the landing of the entrance hall staircase. “I’ve heard peacock feathers are the-“

I stop short as my breath suddenly hitches in my throat at a most welcome sight standing at the bottom of the stairs. William Turner is in my house. We stand shocked for a moment taking each other in and marveling at the changes that we see. He is taller and his shoulders have broadened out, though he still has the same brown hair and deep brown eyes that I have grown to love.

“William!” I cry, moving quickly down the stairs toward him, “Whatever are you doing here? Did my father invite you?”

His eyes meet mine as I step down to meet him, and he nods courteously. “Yes, I am here on official business,” he says, “I am honoured to be in this house once more. You look well, Miss Swann.”

“Miss Swann?” I repeat, one eyebrow raised, “Since when have you called me that, Mr. Turner. It’s Lizzy, remember?”

“Yes, Miss Swann.”

I frown then. “What’s the matter with you? It’s as though you do not know me at all. Will you not shake hands with me?”

I hold out my hand expectantly, and Will takes it in his for a moment before allowing his hand to drop back to his side.

“William, I-“

“I will explain everything later.”

If I had not seen his mouth move a miniscule amount I would not have believed that the words he spoke actually came from him. He does not need to say more however. In only a few words he has conveyed to me his own feelings of entrapment and solitude. I nod my head, and take a step back.

“I understand,” I whisper so that only he may hear.

I curtsy and he bows, as is expected, and Charlotte and I depart, both of us speaking about everything but the encounter that has just occurred. When we arrive at the fort a crowd has already formed, and Charlotte and I are forced to squeeze between pressing people to see any of the wares. Just as I am leaning over a pair of silk gloves a familiar figure catches my eye.

Straightening up, I follow him with my eyes wondering if he will notice me. He looks slightly older, but all the more handsome. The sun has browned his skin, and the uniform he wears has changed since I last saw him. I saunter through the throng of people, staring him down, until finally, as though some unseen thing has alerted him to my gaze, he looks directly at me.

A contained smile graces his lips as he makes his way toward me. I try to contain my excitement at seeing him again, as it cannot look as though I have forgiven him so readily for what he did two years ago.

“Miss Swann,” he says, bowing politely, “Somehow I thought I would be seeing you here. If I may be so bold, you look as lovely as ever. How is your father?”

“Yes, you may be so bold,” I say icily, “When has that ever stopped you from interfering with my life before?”

For a moment he looks as though he has been slapped in the face, but he composes himself quickly.

“I certainly did not expect your forgiveness, Miss Swann,” he stammers, “but I thought perhaps you would be capable of civility.”

His plight breaks my heart in two, and I soften a bit. “Yes, I’m sorry, that was quite out of turn,” I say, looking down at my hand which are wringing themselves into knots, “Please forgive me.”

He nods, swallowing hard, and looks down as well.

“You inquired after my father,” I continue, avoiding his eyes again, “He is well enough, though I thought perhaps you might know that.”

My neutral tone seems to give James courage once again. “No, I did not. You see, I have been on duty for a year and a half now and have just returned.”

“Duty? Still a lieutenant then?” I say, attempting to lighten the mood between us.

He laughs, and I cannot help smiling. “No, I’m Captain of the H.M.S Interceptor now. She’s a new ship and needs some breaking in. Would you like to see her?”

“See her?” I ask, surprised that he would even want to spend a minute more with me after how I have treated him, “Yes, of course. I’ll have to ask Father, and Charlotte will need to come as well, but I don’t see why not.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“Yes, tomorrow,” I agree with a nod.

He bows and I curtsy, and we go our separate ways. I cannot believe for a moment the way events have taken place today of all days. Perhaps I shall go with Charlotte to the fort more often.