EL LOBO DEL MAR

[Welsh Wench]

Honour hesitated. The moment that she was dreading was here. It was time to lay her cards on the table and be honest---almost--with her husband.
Quietly, she said, "I suppose I owe you the truth since half of what is yours in that cradle is also half of me.  Jack, I am so tired. Let's send down for some cheese and bread and a bottle of merlot and settle in for the night. Then we can have the talk I have been dreading to tell you."
Jack nodded. "I think that is a good idea."
"I'll be back in a few minutes."
"But what if the baby wakes up?"
"Pick her up."
"But..but...."
"Jack, I can guarantee you she won't break."

She opened up the door to the parlor where Megan had been sitting with her needlework.
"Rhiannon, I can't begin to tell you how nice it is to have you back. And you know, I even like your choice in husbands! He's just as I pictured him. Well, he didn't have the horns and forked tail like you described. And I am guessing he left his pitchfork out by the door."
Honour laughed. "It's hard to get used to that name, Megan. I know it will take Jack a while.  Did Daffyd get back yet?"
"No. But he's probably talking to the magistrate. Once those two get talking about horse-breeding, I may not see him for hours. He did tell me he'd probably have dinner with Magistrate Allison so not to hold up anything."
"Megan, do you mind greatly if Jack and I get some food and take it to our rooms?"
"Not at all, sweetheart. I trust the rooms are sufficient?"
Honour laughed. "I see you gave me my old room.  The sitting parlor is ideal. Are you sure we are not putting you out, showing up here unexpectantly?"
"Darling, I did expect you.  I just didn't know when. I sent a note off to Gwyneth and Dilys that you are back. I imagine they will be coming over in the next day or two."
Honour bit her lip.
"And...him? Does he know?"
Megan concentrated on her needlework. "He's still in London sitting in the House of Lords."
"Thank God!"
She put her needlework down. "But you know they won't be in session forever."
Honour hesitated with her hand on the doorknob.
"I'll deal with it when the time comes. Unless I can manage to leave before he returns."
Megan gave her a sad smile. "From your lips to God's ear, Rhiannon.
How is Jack enjoying Zara?"
Honour smiled broadly. "He's smitten. Of course, Zara is still asleep. But I can honestly say, I have never seen Jack Wolfe afraid of a little bundle from heaven! And now I'm off to the kitchen to get a small meal for us. All that time on the ship, it will be good to sleep in a bed that's not rocking."
Megan looked at Honour and she looked at Megan.  They both burst out laughing.
"Just...don't say it, Megan. Don't say it."
Megan waved her on. "Go! Enjoy your evening and Daffyd and I will see you in the morning."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honour bumped the door open with her hip.
"Let me take that!" Jack took the tray from her.
"Thank you, darling. It's just some cheese and flatbread and Mrs. Ferguson--that is Megan's cook--sent some cookies and fruit with me."
She reached under her tucked arm.
"And a bottle of merlot that Daffyd himself bottled from the vineyard here."

Honour disappeared behind the screen and threw her chemise over it.
Jack said casually, "Megan did quite well for herself. Marrying landed gentry. That in itself has to be an interesting story."
Honour came out wrapped in her dressing gown. Jack had stoked the fire while she was gone and had now laid out the food on the table.
"Did Zara stir?"
He shook his head. "Not a peep out of her. I put my finger under her nose to make sure she was still breathing."
Honour laughed. "Jack, she is alright. She has been known to sleep for a few hours.  We call it a nap."
Jack uncorked the bottle of merlot and poured two glasses.
"And now it is your turn, my love."
She looked down and said quietly, "Alright. But remember you said you would love me no matter what."
"And I will. I mean, it's not like you murdered anyone, is it?"
Her head jerked up sharply. "Of--of course not."
"Good. Now tell me your secrets. I've told you most of mine."

[Welsh Wench]

Honour took a long drink of her wine as Jack sat back in the chair, warming his feet to the fire. His boots were under the bed, as usual. His shirt was out of his breeches and he leaned back, reveling in the warmth.
She gazed into the fire and said, "I lied to you on my past, Jack. I am not the offspring of a scullery maid and a stablegroom. I am one of four daughters of Lord Rhodri Conaway."
He nodded. "That clears up something that always bewildered me. I knew you had quality and breeding from the first day I saw you. And now it all makes sense.  So you too are landed gentry. It explains why Megan is lady of this manor. Money marries money. And who might the other sisters be?"
"Gwyneth is the oldest. Ten years older than me. She is married to James Hamilton and Dilys--she is the true rebel in the family--she married a Scotsman. His name is Angus McFarland.  Both very nice men. Although I can't understand Angus when he rolls his 'r's."
"Where is your mother?"
Honour looked down and said softly, "I am to blame for that."
"What?"
She looked up at him and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
"I caused my mother's death."

Jack took her hand and said, "Honour, it is not your fault she died in childbirth."
She shook her head and gazed into the fire. "So long....it was so long ago. I don't even remember it. I was three. My mother took me down to the pond. I broke loose from her hand and decided to chase a butterfly. Or so I was told."
She rubbed her temples. "My mother called for me and I got close to the edge. She slipped on the mud and hit her head on a rock. She was unconscious and drowned. The governess found me a few minutes later. Playing on the edge of the pond and my mother was....dead."
Jack reached over and held her hand. "It was not your fault, darling."
She said almost inaudibly, "I know. It took me years to realize it wasn't my fault. But Father saw it otherwise."
"Your father?"
"He ignored me pretty much after that. Any love he had for me, he shut off. And when I turned six, he did what was right. For him."
She took a deep breath and continued, "He sent me away to the Order of St Brigid."
"A convent?"
She nodded. "I was there for eleven years. Until I was dismissed."
"Did you forget to fill the candles for Vespers? Let the holy water run dry?"
Jack tried to make light of it even though he feared he already knew why she was returned home.
She shook her head. " 'Unseemly behaviour ' was the nice way of putting it. I was sent home in disgrace. My father didn't want me around still so I did what I do best."
"You ran."
She nodded. "You once asked me about my silver chain."
She took it out from around her neck and gently touched it.
"Megan made sure I had something of my mother's. She was wearing it the day she...."
Jack nodded. "I understand."
Honour found her voice again. "It keeps her real to me. Close. And whenever I don't know what to do, I look up at the stars and ask her for her advice. Or at least for her to watch over me. She's not with me but I feel oddly comforted."
"And where is this poor excuse for a father now? Dead?"
She shook her head. "He's in London."
"Do I want to meet him?"
She gave a brittle laugh. "No, I don't think so."
"And you ended up in St Lawrence waiting on tavern tables."
"I had a small amount of money and I booked passage on the first ship going out of port. It was to Barbados. Amos took pity on me and that is how I ended up at the Varlet and Vixen."
Jack drew her into his arms and kissed her.
"Is this all?"
She felt her heart lurch. Memories of Madoc Castlemaine and Rhys Morgan rose up in her but she pushed them far down.
Honour nodded.
"That is all, Jack. Now you know the truth."
He took her hand and pulled her up.
"And how long is Zara due to sleep?"
She recognized the gleam in Jack's eye.
"Oh, I am sure she will be a while yet. Do you have anything in mind? A good book? Maybe a game of cards?"
He smiled wickedly as he drew the sash loose on her dressing gown.
"You can keep the silver necklace on."

He drew her down to him on the bed.
"Lord, Honour, do you think we can manage in a bed that isn't swaying?"
She kissed him deeply and loosened his shirt.
"We managed in St Lawrence and we managed in Castara and we even managed it in Barbados. So I think we shall do just fine here in---"
He silenced her with a kiss.
As their lovemaking commenced, she reasoned with that annoying inner voice of hers, 'Really, Madoc and Rhys are just a closed chapter. I have a new life with Jack and a fresh start.'
Their passions were rising to new heights when the inevitable happened.

"WAAAAAH!"
Jack stopped and looked with dismay at Honour.
She sighed and threw his shirt at him.
"I'd suggest you put on your trousers!"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack looked at Honour in a mixture of astonishment and dismay. "Don't... don't you think she can wait a few minutes more?"
"WAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
"You tell me," said Honour. "Can you concentrate through that din?"
"WAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
He screwed his eyes shut, but it was obvious he couldn't ignore the wailing of his little girl. He rolled over and pulled on his shirt, then his trousers. Honour hadn't bothered to pull up the sheet. Jack paused to look at her exquisite form.
"Bollocks!" he muttered, and he went quickly to the nursery.

With Zara in full voice, Jack hastily lit a lamp. He turned to the cradle where his daughter lay, and froze.
"What do I do? Pick her up?" he asked himself. "Leave her alone? Rock her? Sing to her? Why can I only think of 'The Good Ship Venus'? No good! Bollocks! All right, here we go..."
Jack carefully slid his hands around Zara and picked her up. "Your mum promised me you wouldn't break, and I'm going to hold you to that bargain," he said softly. He held his daughter at arm's length, trying to decide what to do next. For some reason, Zara fell silent.
"This isn't so bad," Jack smiled. "Piece of cake, ain't it, Zara?"
Little Zara's eyes opened slowly, and met her father's. Suddenly, they grew wide. Jack's did too. Her lower lip trembled, and she drew in several halting breaths.
"Oh, no, no, no, non, nein, nyet..." stammered Jack. But nothing would hold back Zara's bloodcurdling scream. Wincing against the sound, Jack held her close to him, in hopes that holding her would bring her comfort enough to quit crying. No such luck. Instead, Zara grabbed two handfuls of her father's hair and pulled for everything she was worth.
"Ow! OWW!!" exclaimed Jack. "Let go! Damn it! Ouch!!"

At that moment, Honour opened the nursery door. Before her was her husband, the most feared pirate in the Caribbean, holding his infant daughter while she cried and yanked his long brown hair with surprising strength.
"Get her off me!" cried Jack.
Honour looked at him, and doubled over in laughter.
"What the hell are you laughing at? A little help, please?" he pleaded.
Completely unable to contain herself, Honour leaned against the door and continued laughing. "Oh, dear Lord, if only Briggs could see you now! Here! Let me show you what to do, you big fearsome man!"
She gently took hold of Zara, and the child slowly released her grip on Jack's hair. Within moments, Zara was quietly resting against her mother.
"You set me up," said Jack.
Honour smiled. "Maybe just a little." She bounced Zara gently and patted her back, while Zara kept a wary eye on her father.

"Why on earth did she react like that?" asked Jack. Honour couldn't help but hear the note of hurt in his voice.
"Because she's frightened, Jack," she explained as gently as she could. "You're a strange face to her."
"But... I'm her father. That should count for something."
"It does. It counts for everything. But right now, she doesn't know who you are. That will change."
Jack sighed. "I hadn't stopped to think about it like that. The whole world must be one big scary place for her, then." He smiled sweetly at Zara and began to bring his face close to her. Immediately, her lower lip began to tremble, her tiny hands clutching Honour's nightgown. He backed off and gave a defeated look.
"It will take a few days, darling," Honour said as she rocked their daughter.
"Do you really think she'll warm up to me? I mean, it took you no time at all..."
Honour held Zara up in front of her and grinned. "That's because you are so much smarter than Mummy was! Aren't you? Yes you are!" Zara giggled and playfully grabbed her nose.
"Oh, and aren't you the cheeky one!" said Jack in mock exasperation. "She seems happy enough now. Can I try again to hold her?"
Honour pursed her lips. "You're rushing things, Jack. Go slow, please?"
"You're right, as usual. I've just been so excited to finally see her, and... I suppose I was expecting things to go differently."
"What were you expecting? For her to greet you in the drawing room with tea and biscuits?"
"Don't be silly, Honour. Even I know babies don't drink tea!" He shook his head slowly. "I really didn't know what to expect. Except for the eyes. I knew she'd have your beautiful eyes. And her hair. It really is just like mine..."
He reached to touch Zara's curls, but she let out a small fearful cry and buried her face in Honour's shoulder.

Honour stroked Zara's back to calm her. "It's all right, Zara. Bad man go away..." she cooed, and gave Jack a wink.
"You know, I could have stayed on the ship with Briggs and not gotten this much abuse," groused Jack teasingly.
"I told you to take it slow, darling. She's your daughter, not something to master." She kissed Zara's head and smiled at her husband. "We may have been a magnificent whirlwind, but she needs and deserves time."
"You have a maddening talent for being right," smiled Jack.

At that moment, Zara pushed back from Honour and gave a tremendous yawn, then softly collapsed back against her mother's shoulder. She kept her eyes on Jack, but they were somehow softer now, and heavy with sleepiness. Jack took some heart in this, but stayed put. Honour was right. There was no need for a desperate rush to connect with his daughter. He had retired from the Account, rich beyond his wildest dreams. Even more so now that his wife and daughter we back in his life. He had all the time in the world to get to know his little precious baby girl.
"I think she's ready to go back down and sleep," Honour said quietly. "Where is the toy you bought for her?"
"Toy? Oh, the rabbit! I'd almost forgotten!"
"More like completely forgotten," she laughed. "No wonder, in all the excitement! Why don't you go fetch it?"
Without a word, Jack hustled out of the nursery and into their room. Six nearly identical trunks were lined up against the wall with the windows. Which one of all those was his? He started examining them, and remembered his had the heaviest lock. He hauled the trunk onto the bed and retrieved the key from the dresser. Once the trunk was opened, he rummaged about and found the little toy rabbit he has bought in the Azores, right next to the clothes that were still in need of laundering. Honour had suggested he keep the toy there so it would smell like him, and help Zara make an association to him. Jack laughed to himself that if that actually worked, Zara would have a VERY strong association to him in a short time. With toy rabbit in hand, he hurried back to the nursery.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Honour had just put Zara back in the crib, and was pulling the little pink blanket back up over the baby. She smiled when she saw Jack standing in the doorway holding the toy rabbit proudly.
"Oh, good! You found it! Here, give it to me and I'll tuck it in beside her."
"Not so fast!" said Jack. You said this would help her make a link between something pleasant and me, yeah?"
Honour's brow furrowed. "Well, yes, but if it smells like you, that ought to be enough."
"Despite all the tavern tales to the contrary, how many risks have you known me to take?"
"None that weren't thoroughly calculated."
"Well, this is another one."
"Please, Jack, she'll just start crying again."
"Trust me Honour. Please? If she starts crying, I'll take you to town and buy you a new red dress."
"I thought you liked the red dress I already have."
"Consider it a spare. You don't know how many times I've wanted to tear that dress off you."
Honour blushed a little, and stepped away from the crib. "When you put it that way, how could I refuse?"
Jack stepped toward the crib. Honour touched his shoulder gently.
"And what if you're right? What do you get?" she asked.
"That's up to you, my love. And you'll still get that red dress."
Honour bit her lip and smiled. "Do go slow, please?"
"I promise," said Jack.

He turned toward the crib, and looked down on the very sleepy Zara Wolfe. He leaned down, but paused when her expression turned worried.
"No, no, precious. It's all right," he said in his deepest, most soothing tones. "I know we haven't been properly introduced, and I made a mess of things before."
Zara's expression slowly changed from distressed to one of curiosity.
"I'm your daddy," continued Jack. "And I love you very, very much."
Honour stood at the doorway and watched her husband work his magic on their daughter. Tears of happiness welled in her eyes as she witnessed Jack Wolfe transform from feared pirate to doting father. She felt guilty for keeping Zara from him, but she took consolation in how wonderfully everything was working out.
"I've got something for you," Jack said to Zara. He produced the toy rabbit from behind his back. Zara's eyes grew wide at the bright colours. "Ah, see? That's my little girl! You recognise swag when you see it!"
He gently gave the toy bunny to Zara, who took it without taking her eyes from Jack's face.
"Are you going to help your Da prove your Mum wrong? Come on, give us a smile."
Zara took the rabbit and looked at it, then gave it a shake. The little bells sewn into the tips of its ears jingled, and her eyes lit up. She gave a noise that sounded like a laugh and looked at Jack, and then back to the bunny. Jack looked at Honour and smiled. She returned the smile, and nodded toward their room. Jack rose and gave Zara one more glance, then extinguished the lamp and joined Honour in the hall.

"You charmed her after all, didn't you?" she laughed softly.
Jack beamed. "Yeah, I guess I did! But I think the rabbit was what really won her over."
"Well, you proved me wrong. I thought she would cry, and instead we have this..." The faint tinkle of little bells could be heard as Zara played with her new toy.
"You know what this means, don't you?" asked Jack.
"I wouldn't know," said Honour, with a hint of a wicked smile.
"Don't try and weasel out of this one, darling. I won the bet." He gently brushed her hair away from her face. "So, what's my prize?"
Honour smiled. "I still get my red dress?"
"Of course you do! A promise is a promise."
She took his hand and led him to their room. "I'd much rather show you than tell you."
"Now you're talking," said Jack as he closed the bedroom door with his heel.

[Welsh Wench]

Honour rested her forehead against the window and looked out.
"It's snowing even harder, Jack.  I do hope Briggs was able to leave as planned."
Jack looked up from bouncing Zara on his knee.
"He did."
"How do you know?"
Jack grinned sheepishly, "When you and Megan went into town to talk to the dressmaker, I borrowed a horse from Daffyd and rode down to the docks. El Lobo is ported out, right on schedule according to the dockmaster. I wanted to check to make sure the ship sailed off before the snow started."
She sighed. "You just can't seem to get the saltwater out of your veins, can you?"

Honour looked over to see Jack covering his face with his hands and when he opened them, Zara kept trying to tweak his nose.  Her squeals of delight filled the room.  Honour felt a pang of guilt.  She had kept the pregnancy to herself, effectively shutting Jack out of what was perhaps the most important event in their lives. But the sheer joy that Jack found playing with his daughter was a salve to it.
Jack was now down on the floor with Zara making her stuffed bunny hop and land on her head. Zara kept grabbing for it and Jack would make it bounce away.
"Best piastres I ever spent!"

His wife smiled broadly. There was a knock on the door.
"Miss Rhiannon, a few packages arrived for Mr. Wolfe."
The servant girl handed Honour a few large packages.
"Thank you, Jane."
She raised an eyebrow to Jack. "Did you buy me something?"
He got up gingerly from the floor. "I don't know how much longer I can keep playing on the floor. It's hard on the knees."
He took the packages from Honour. "Well, not exactly for you but kind of."
She placed her hands on her hips. "I hate it when you speak in riddles, Jack Wolfe."

Jack opened the packages and drew out some new clothes.
"I took an afternoon and went to a tailor. This is for the ball that Megan is having in a few weeks."
"Ah, yes! Her annual winter ball! I missed last year's and I regretted it."
"You missed it? Why?"
"Jack, I was about a month away from delivering the baby. It wouldn't be right for me to be seen in social situations with a belly out to here!"
"Good point."
"And what is this?"

Jack took the package and hid it behind his back.
"Oh..this?"
"Yes! THAT! Is it for me?"
He smiled wickedly and said, "Possibly. Have you been a good little girl?"
"I don't know. Have I?"
He chuckled, "Have I ever complained before?"
She tried to get the package and he held it over his head.  She jumped, trying to reach it. Jack laughed, "I love when you beg!"
Honour pouted. "Alright, be that way."
Jack put his finger under her chin and lifted her face. "I love that little pout you do. Seems that is another thing Zara has inherited from you. And when the two of you do that, I am helpless. So, yes, you have been a good little girl and deserve a reward."
He gave her the package and she gave him a brilliant smile in return.
Putting it on the bed, she opened the package and gasped.
"Oh, Jack, it is just beautiful!"

She lifted out a melee of red lace and silk.
"But...but it's not a dress!"
He looked up from sorting through his new clothes and said, "Hmm? Oh..well, I thought it was something that could be for a private party of one."
She looked at the crimson silk as it swirled. "A new dressing gown.  And just who is this really for? Me....or did you buy it for me for YOU?"
He laughed, "Well....I thought it would be nice. You can show me tonight how it fits."

Just then, a cry came from the floor. Zara's lower lip trembled and she held her arms out.
"Da! Da!"
Jack turned to Honour in amazement. "Did you hear that? Did she actually say 'Da'?"
Honour laughed. "What did you expect her to call you? Captain Daddy?"
He bent down and scooped his little girl up.
"What's the matter, precious? You were feeling neglected?"
Zara buried her face in Jack's shoulder and he could feel her settling down.

Honour looked at the two of them. She exclaimed, "I never thought I would see the day when the most feared pirate of the Caribbean would be cowed by a little baby."
"She's not just any baby, Honour. She's mine."

[Welsh Wench]

Jack sat in the rocking chair and gently stroked his daughter's back while she laid her head on his chest, rocking her gently.
Honour looked over at the two of them and a feeling of contentment came over her.
'This is what I was running to all my life. This is where I belong.' She turned back again to look at the snow coming down. The fire crackled in the fireplace and when Honour turned around again, Zara was asleep in Jack's arms.
But then, so was Jack.
'If I accomplished anything in this life, it was giving Jack what he always wanted even if he didn't know it. A child of his own. And a chance at happiness.'

Honour carefully scraped a bit of frost from the window. She looked out at the snow coming down in silence, blanketing the earth with an eerie calmness, shrouded in white. Almost as if to whitewash her sins that were buried along with the man Honour had loved with her whole being.  Her mind drifted back to another place, another time.
Another lifetime ago.

He whispered, "I know it's fatal, my love."
"Rhys. Rhys, please. Don't leave me. I love you."
"I love you too, Rhiannon."

And then he was gone. She felt a tear escape and trail down her cheek.
Hastily she wiped it away with the back of her hand and whispered, 'Please, Rhys. Please don't let your memory keep me from enjoying true happiness. Please go and stay buried deep down in my heart. If you ever loved me, let me go.'
She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.
'Did you ever get a proper burial, Rhys?'
If only she and Rhys hadn't foolishly taken the risk of one more tryst in her bedroom....if only Madoc had stayed in London...if only...if only...if only....

What would her life be like now? Would they constantly be on the run? Would they be sailing the seven seas?  Would they have settled down?

She looked over at her husband sleeping in the rocking chair, their child curled up resting against his chest. At that moment Honour felt she couldn't love Jack any more than she did. She quietly walked over and covered the two of them with a quilt. Jack stirred and opened his eyes.
"She's asleep."
"Yes, she is, darling."
"I did good, didn't I?"
Honour looked at him lovingly and smiled.
"Yes, my darling. You did good."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"Dear Lord, man!  How much farther?" huffed Duckie.
"Nearly there, sir," replied the manservant, maintaining what Duckie considered far too brisk a pace.  They reached the end of the long hallway at last.  The man opened the tall double doors with measured precision.  He took three steps into the room and gave a stiff half bow.
"Mister Drake Gander, Countess," he announced.

Duckie, already resentful for being taken on what he felt was a forced march, sidestepped the manservant and entered the west sitting room.  But a sitting room at Tyneforthe Hall would have been a library anywhere else.  It was much like the rest of the manor; grandiose almost to the point of absurdity.  Every yard of fabric, every stick of furniture spoke of wretched excess.  His sister Rose had married into old money, and she was determined to rub everyone's face in it. 

The high walls were done in rich, polished rosewood.  Two enormous bookcases flanked a large fireplace, which crackled and popped with a perfectly stoked fire.  Above the marble fireplace hung a larger-than-life portrait of his sister, replete with an ornate gilt frame.  He wondered for a moment about the two magnificent greyhounds in the painting.  Rose hated animals, dogs particularly.  No doubt the artist added them later in an attempt to bring some measure of warmth to the subject.

"There you are, Drake!  I've been waiting forever for you to get here!  Please, come and sit.  We have so much to talk about!" said Rose.  She was standing near the centre of the room beside two high-backed leather chairs and a marble inlaid rosewood tea table.  Rose Carlisle, the Countess of Shrewsbury, was a tall, slender woman.  She was wearing a gown of the finest silk brocade.  True to the vain habit she developed a child, the dress was varying shades of pale rose.  Her long brown hair was piled and coiffed perfectly upon her head almost like a crown.  She gave her brother her best mistress of the manor smile, a smile so practised and automatic that it never touched her icy blue eyes.

"Do forgive me, my dear," said Duckie as he walked to his sister and embraced her.  "I'm afraid I got turned around in your spacious home.  I was over in the east sitting room when your man came to fetch me.  You'd think that in a week's time I would have discovered everything."
"An honest mistake, I'm sure.  This is a rather large house," said Rose.  "Hudgins?  This tea is unsuitably cold by now.  Bring us a fresh pot.  Fresh scones as well.  I'll not serve these stale things to an honoured guest."
"As you wish, Countess," answered Hudgins with another half bow.
Duckie tried not to show incredulity at Rose's orders.  He had checked the clock on the mantle when he came in the room.  It was only ten past four.
"There's no need, Rose.  I'm sure it's fine.  I don't stand on formalities."
"But I do," she shot back icily.  The too easy smile reappeared instantly.  "I suppose life aboard a ship is a more rugged existence than what the average person would be used to.  But there are standards in this house."
He quirked an eyebrow.  "Yes, I'm sure there are."

"Please, sit!  We have so much to catch up on!"
They sat, and Rose took up her position as ruler of the manor.  "What has it been, Drake?  Five years since I saw you last?"
"Seven, to be exact," said Duckie, eyeing his empty tea cup.  "You weren't married then."
"Ah, that's right!  You were back from a cruise aboard that merchant ship, whatever its name was."
"El Lobo Del Mar."
"Yes, that's the one!  Such a fearsome name for a gentle vessel!  Does the captain treat you well?"
Duckie laughed softly.  "We get along just fine.  As a matter of fact, you know him.  Well."
"Really?" asked Rose, incredulously.  "I'm sure you're mistaken, Drake.  Sea captains don't travel in the same circles I do."
"Oh, this one did, back in the day," he smirked.
She gave him a pained look.  "All right, then.  Enough of the riddles.  Who is this captain you presume I know?"
Duckie smiled broadly.  "Jack Wolfe."
Rose's eyes went wide.  "My Jack Wolfe?"
"Well, suffice to say it's the Jack Wolfe you knew.  Though he's quite a different man now."
Rose shifted in her seat.  "Different, how?  Bolder?  Wealthier?"
"Yes, on both counts.  And a few others."
"More riddles?  And why didn't you tell me before that Jack was a captain?"
Duckie rose from his chair and went to the bookcase, where on one shelf was a bottle of brandy and some glasses.  He poured a tall glass and sighed.  "I did, Rose.  The last time we talked, and in several of my letters.  But it wasn't important to you.  You were too wrapped up with being courted by Lord Edwin Carlisle.  My condolences on his passing, by the way.  I'm sure it was devastating for you."

"Yes, well, it was most unexpected.  But he was an older man.  He left me well provided for, and that's what's most important."
Duckie swirled the brandy around his glass and took a deep drink.  "Yes, I'm sure it is for you."
Rose ignored his comment and tilted her head quizzically.  "You said Jack is different in other ways.  How so?"
"He's happily married, for one," said Duckie as he returned to his seat.  "And he has a beautiful baby daughter, only a few months old."
Rose's face fell.  "Married?  Does he love her?"
"Love her?  He nearly tore the entire Caribbean apart trying to find her at one point.  Yes, he loves her.  Desperately.  And she him."  Duckie was enjoying twisting the knife on his painfully self-impressed sister.
"My, my.  A wealthy captain.  Jack certainly has done well for himself," mused Rose.
"A wealthy, happily married captain, Rose." 
"Yes, yes.  As you said..."

Duckie could see the wheels turning in her head, and it was beginning to sadden him.  His sister had always been a scheming social climber.  But now that she had achieved the status she had so desperately wanted all these years, she seemed to only crave it more.  It gave him some comfort that Jack and Honour were in Beaumaris, with no chance of crossing paths with Rose.  Duckie loved his sister very much, but he despised what she had become.

A status seeker.

A status seeker who was not only rich but very wealthy.

And terribly lonely.

[Welsh Wench]

Honour came into the conservatory where Megan had been sitting at her desk, surrounded by stationary, envelopes, inkpots and pens.
Zara was snuggled against her mother and reached out for Aunt Megan when she saw her.
Megan extended her arms and Zara went wilingly.
"Megan, don't tell me you haven't finished with the invitations to your winter ball yet!"
Megan sighed. "I got delayed. My hand kept cramping up. But I am almost through."
Honour sat down and picked up the pen. "My handwriting is still good. Do you want me to finish up?"
Her sister bounced Zara on her knee and exclaimed, "I would love it!"
"Where are Dylan and Morwenna?"
"Upstairs with Nanny. She is going over their lessons with them. So I have a few hours of quiet to get this done."

Honour picked up the list and surveyed it.
"I take it the check marks are the ones already done?"
"Yes.  I am a little over halfway through it."
"Good Lord, Megan! Have you invited all of Wales and half of northern England, too?"
"Well, you know that Daffyd has his hands in alot of different enterprises. And this IS the 'event of the season'."
Honour dipped the pen in the inkwell and started writing. She smiled as she wrote. "Do I need to make one out to Captain and Mrs. Jack Wolfe?"
Megan smiled back. "I am so happy you and Jack will be here for this."
Honour sat back and stretched. "I can't believe it will be the first social engagement that Jack and I will have that doesn't involve a tavern and someone getting a bottle broken over their head!"
Megan shook her head. "From the manor born and convent-bred, you certainly took a turn Father hadn't expected."
"Did anyone bother to tell him I got married? Again?"
Megan shook her head. "He won't hear a word from me, Rhiannon. Although I must say Jack cleans up well."
Honour laughed.
"Clean shaven and in clothes that aren't made out of the same fabric as the sails! Who would have thought?"
Megan said, "I suppose it is like sleeping with a different man!"
Honour and Megan looked at each other and burst out laughing.
Megan said, "You know what I mean!"

Honour resumed her writing.  She affected a snobby voice and said, "Oooh, would you look at this? A countess, no less!"
Megan was playing pattycake with Zara and looked over. "Oh, well, actually her husband is--was--an earl. And you know there is no such title as Earl-ess."
Honour sighed and continued. A little over an hour went by and she finally stood up and stretched her arms above her head.
"Finished!"
Megan glanced up and said, "Wonderful! And your little one is asleep."
Zara was laying on a blanket by the fire, Muir curled up next to her.
"That dog just loves her, doesn't he?"
Honour laughed, "Since the day Zara was born, she has had Muir's undying love!"

Honour sat before the fire and gazed into it.  Megan handed her a cup of tea.
"A shilling for your thoughts, love."
Honour gave her a small smile.
"You always knew when something was on my mind, didn't you?"
She nodded. "When you were born, Mother said you were my present. And I was to watch over you."
Honour took a sip of her tea and said softly, "She never knew how right she would be."
Megan reached over and touched her hand.
"He still crosses your mind, doesn't he?"
Honour nodded, still gazing at the fire.
Megan sighed. "I thought so. Sometimes when you look out the window, I would catch you glancing in that direction."
"It doesn't help that Castlemaine is two miles away."
"We always seem to skirt around what happened, Rhiannon.  Would it help to talk?"
"Maybe." She felt the tears come unbidden to her eyes. "I just wondered if he got a decent burial, Megan. I felt awful---I just ran. I felt like I abandoned Rhys."
Megan shook her head sadly. "I never told  you because it was such a sensitive subject. A crewman of his stopped here, thinking this was Castlemaine. He said he was looking for his captain. Captain Rhys Morgan, he said. Fortunately Daffyd was not home. I directed him to Castlemaine. I knew he must have been with you. And if Rhys Morgan brought you a few hours of happiness, it wasn't for me to judge or even stand in the way. Everyone knew what a cruel bastard Madoc Castlemaine was. Everyone except Father. He thought you needed a firm hand. And that Madoc would be the right husband to whip you into shape."
Honour gave a bitter laugh. "Whip he hardly did. At least not to where it showed. His abuse was more psychological."
Megan continued, "I sent the crewman on the way to Castlemaine. He had told me he was to meet Rhys at 8:00 PM. With a carriage."
"We were to leave that night."
"I am guessing that the crewman found Rhys. And took his body with him. No one said. And he would see that Rhys had a proper burial."

Honour's hand started to shake and her teacup tottered. Megan took it out of her hand and laid her hand on her sister's.
"What is it, Rhiannon?"
Honour turned to her with bewildered eyes. She said quietly, "What if Rhys is still alive?"

Now it was Megan's turn to rattle her teacup. She set it down gently and then turned to her sister.
Honour shook her head and said more to herself than Megan, "But he can't be. I held him as he took his last breath. The blood...so much blood.... "
Megan reached over and held her sister by the shoulders, forcing her to look at her.
In slow, measured tones, she asked, "Rhiannon, what makes you think he may be alive?"
Honour looked at her with troubled eyes. She barely whispered, "I saw him. Megan, I swear, I saw him!"
"Where? Where did you see Rhys Morgan?"
"In the Azores. Jack and I met at a tavern and I saw him walk by."
"Did you see his face?"
"N-no."
"Then how do you know it was him?"
"The same boots."
"Rhiannon, think about it.  A pair of boots?"
"And his coat. And his rapier. And he walked just like Rhys."
"Darling, every pirate walks the same," Megan said quietly.
Honour laughed shakily, "You're right. Of course you are right. It was just my mind playing tricks on me, wasn't it?"
Megan nodded. "Yes, Rhiannon."
Rhiannon laughed again, a bit too brightly. "Yes. Just my mind."
Megan patted her sister's hand. "And now you put it behind you. Rhys Morgan is no longer a part of your life."
Honour wiped the tear away from her eyes.
"And God willing, Jack will never know."
"You never told him that part of your past, did you?"
She shook her head. "How do you tell your husband you killed his best friend?"
Megan said sternly, "You didn't kill Rhys Morgan. He was a full-grown man, and he chose to see you that night, knowing he was with another man's wife. I'm sorry, Rhiannon, for the way it turned out. But don't blame yourself."

Zara stirred and Honour covered her up again wth the blanket.
"I don't. And the fact that I have Zara is proof enough that I am meant to be happy. And I will be. As soon as I get back to Barbados."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

It had been two weeks since Duckie arrived at Tyneforthe Hall.  He had the run of the estate for almost all of the first week, as Rose was in London on another of her famous spending sprees.  In a way, he wished she hadn't returned.  Rose had always been materialistic, almost to the exclusion of all else.  Her choice of suitors was never gauged by emotional compatibility, but by their societal ranking.  Obviously she had hit the jackpot in Lord Edwin Carlisle.  But what had she gained, really?  An impossibly huge estate, no children, and a dead husband.  He doubted that even all her money and status could keep Rose warm on lonely nights. Not that it seemed to matter to her.

They had retired to Rose's sanctuary after a rich meal of game hens, assorted greens, and fresh bread.  Rose was in an unusually cheery mood as she poured them each a glass of aged cognac.  She brought Duckie his glass, then sank into her leather chair to enjoy the fire.
"It seems like forever since I've entertained a guest," she sighed.
"Really?" asked Duckie.  "I should think you have all manner of gatherings and balls here."
"I do, I do.  But they don't mean anything, really.  Most of those who come are merely hangers-on and poseurs, hoping to mingle with the rest of us.  I mean those of us with social stature.  Breeding.  You understand."
"Yes, breeding," echoed Duckie dubiously.  "I've heard of it.  They do that with horses and cattle, don't they?"
"Oh, Drake, don't be droll."  She took a sip of cognac and set her glass on the table.  Duckie's eyebrow went up when he noticed her sip had drained nearly half the glass.  "We have a fine family history, certainly nothing to be ashamed of.  Some of these people, I mean, they're immigrants.  Can you imagine?"
"Scandalous," he replied with a roll of his eyes.
"What I'm trying to say is that it is a delight to have you here, after all these years.  How long has it been?  Four?"
"Seven, actually.  Before you married Lord Edwin.  As a matter of fact, you've told me almost nothing of your dear departed.  What was he like?"

Rose shifted in her chair.  "He was a good man," she said quietly as she retrieved her glass.  "Very generous, from a good family."
"I presumed he had good breeding, being a lord and all," said Duckie.  "But what was he like?"
"As I said, he was a generous man.  Quite indulgent, even."
"Yes, yes, but what was he like, as a person?  Was he a sportsman?  Musically inclined?  Bookish?"
Rose cleared her throat and drank some more cognac.  "Edwin and I had different interests."
"Such as?  Come now, Rose, you were married to the man five years.  Surely there's more you can tell me about him."
She thought some more, seeming to struggle to recall any detail of her husband's life.  "Horses!  Yes, Edwin loved his horses."
"Now there's something!  Did he ride or hunt?"
"Hunt... I think.  I know he had a saddle."
Duckie eyed his sister.  "You never rode out with him?"
"Oh, no.  Never.  Riding is more of a man's sport, you know."
"Funny, that's not how you felt when we were younger.  Remember when we'd go to Uncle Henry's farm?  Father would yell himself hoarse trying to get you to quit riding and come in for the evening."
A smile briefly played across Rose's face, but vanished just as quickly.  "That was a long time ago.  Things change."
"I suppose some do," said Duckie, the disappointment all too clear in his voice.  In the pursuit of her ambitions, Rose had compromised everything positive about herself.  In the end, what had she really gained?

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"But he was an influential member of the House of Lords," she said proudly.  "Very powerful and respected.  Everyone sought his approval and influence."
And there it is, thought Duckie.  Rose couldn't tell him much about who her husband was, but she had a firm grasp on what being married to him meant.
"Would you look at that?" she said with a smile as she examined her empty glass.  "More cognac, Drake?"
His glass was still over half full.  "No, thank you.  I'm fine."
"Suit yourself."  She went to the bookcase and poured another glass, a little fuller than the last one.  "For a man of the sea, you drink like you're taking communion."
"I'm a physician first.  I spend far too much time treating those who overindulge to do it myself."
"Always the pragmatist," Rose said with a laugh.  "But let's talk of happier things.  You must have seen extraordinary things in the New World!"
Duckie smiled.  "It really is a whole new world, Rose.  The islands are as diverse as the people who inhabit them.  The cultures, the music, the food...  extraordinary barely scratches the surface."
"Still, it has to be a relief to return to the civilized world.  From everything I've read in the broadsheets, it's a savage, uncouth place."
"Compared to Hampton Court, perhaps.  But I've heard that too can be a most inhospitable and uncouth place.  Don't believe everything you read, Rose.  Just because it's different or outside your experience doesn't make it bad."

Rose regarded her brother.  "You've changed, Drake.  Worldlier, but somehow world-weary.  You sound more philosopher than physician."
Duckie smiled into his drink.  "In my line of work, you get a lot of time to think.  Perhaps too much."
Rose nestled back into her leather chair.  "Now," she said with a calculated smile, "tell me more about Jack."
Duckie sighed hard.  "We're back to this, are we?"
"Oh, Drake," she implored, "it's a simple question.  I want to hear about your heroic captain."
Involuntarily, Duckie laughed.  "Heroic?  Well, I suppose that fits Jack to a point, given what we've been through.  He's certainly not the philosopher you knew."  He paused and looked at his glass.  "What are you up to, Rose?  Why the sudden intense curiosity about your old flame?"
"Can't I ask a few innocent questions?  He is an old friend, after all.  You have such a suspicious mind!"
"I know you when you set your mind to something.  You're like a dog with a bone.  And I hardly think Jack regards you as a friend, after the way you jilted him."
Rose rolled her eyes.  "We were children!  After all these years, I doubt he even remembers it."
"Oh, he remembers, Rose.  It took him a long time to get over you."
"You sound like you haven't entirely forgiven me, either, Drake."
"Jack was my best friend at the time.  You were callous and cruel to him."
"I was being realistic!  Jack was still at university, with his heart set on becoming a professor.  There was no way he would have been able provide for me in a proper fashion.  He was sweet, but a poor prospect."
Duckie motioned at the room around them.  "I suppose this is what you call being properly provided for?"
"It's comfortable enough."
"Comfortable?  It's more like a museum!  Are you honestly happy rattling around in this gargantuan manor?"
Rose pursed her lips.  "What does that have to do with anything?"
Duckie shook his head slowly.  "Rose, happiness is everything.  You can have the whole world, but it doesn't mean much if you aren't happy."
"Spare me the lecture, Drake," she said testily.
"I'm merely concerned about you.  It has to be terribly lonely..."
"Drake Gander, I'll have you know that I am very satisfied with my life, and I'm perfectly happy with how things are!  I have close acquaintances and a busy social schedule.  I hardly consider myself lonely."  She set her glass down on the table and crossed her arms in front of her.  "Perhaps you're right.  I seem to have lost all interest in talking any more tonight."
"Rose, I'm sorry.  I wasn't trying to insult you.  I only meant...  Rose?"
Rose sat there in silence, staring the fire and doing a slow burn.
Duckie sighed.  He knew that when Rose clammed up like this, there was no talking to her until she got over her snit.  He stood up and paused to kiss her on top of the head as he passed her chair.  "I do love you, sister.  Even when you're being impossible."


He left the sitting room, and found himself face to face with Hudgins.
"Hudgins!" Duckie exclaimed.  "How fortunate you should be here.  May I ask you a few questions as we walk?"
"Yes, governor.  What would you like to know?"
"Does the countess host many events?"
"Aye, sir.  Though not nearly as many since Lord Edwin died."
"So she does have guests from time to time?" asked Dukie.
Hudgins shrugged.  "Every now and again.  But mostly she's travelling here, there, and yonder attending balls and shopping.  She does an awful lot of shopping.  She's rarely ever here any more.  Like she can't stand to be here by herself.  She and the Earl were never what you'd call close, see, but I think she misses having him around.  Ah, here we are at your room, governor.  Can I bring you anything?"
"No, Hudgins, you've been too kind.  I'll see you tomorrow."
"Good enough, sir.   Have a pleasant night!"  The manservant quietly closed the door.
Duckie looked around the room and sighed again.  "I wish I knew what you were up to, Rose.  Why the interest in Jack?" 

Rose poured herself yet another glass of cognac.  She leaned back in her overstuffed leather chair and regarded the fire, and thought back across the years to when Jack Wolfe tried to win her heart...

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"Do you know what today is, Rose?"  asked Jack.
"Oh Jack, you know I don't enjoy riddles," said Rose with a coy smile.
Jack tenderly took her hand and looked into her eyes.  "It's a year to the day that we first met."
"Has it been that long?  I hadn't realised."
"Now you're just toying with me," he replied in mock exasperation.

Indeed, it had been a full year since Jack's best friend Drake "Duckie" Gander introduced Jack to his sister, Rose.  She was a strikingly beautiful young woman four years Jack's senior, with a porcelain complexion and long, sable hair that never seemed to be out of place.  She had a stately, regal air about her that only accentuated her beauty.  Ordinarily she would have never considered taking anyone Jack's age or social standing as a suitor.  Not that she considered him serious marriage material.  But he was so smitten with her from the start, and she did enjoy his attentions.  Jack was indulgent of her every whim, as much within his meagre means as possible, even taking odd jobs in the midsts of his studies to do so.  He was always the perfect gentleman, knowing just what to say and how to act despite his humble station.

"Is something bothering you, Jack?  You seem anxious," she asked.
Jack licked his dry lips and took a deep breath.  "Over the past year, I've become very fond of you, Rose.  Very fond indeed."
Rose patted his hand and smiled.  "As I have of you, Jack."
"So fond," he continued with a slight quaver in his voice, "that I find myself dreading being apart from you, even for an hour."
Rose searched his eyes.  "Jack, what are you trying to say?"

Jack fumbled with his vest pocket and produced a small black box.  It promptly slipped from his fingers and tumbled to the floor at her feet.  Awkwardly, he scooped up the box and knelt before Rose on one knee.
"I love you, Rose.  I've loved you from the moment I first saw you."  His voice grew stronger as his words of adoration tumbled out of his mouth.  "I can't imagine a life without you, my love."
With trembling hands, he offered up the box to her.  His voice full of expectation and hope, he asked, "Rose Gander, would you be my wife?"
Astonished, Rose took the box and opened it.  Inside was a gold ring with a tiny diamond set into it.  Jack had scrimped and saved for months to buy it for her.  She stared at the ring, then looked at Jack in open-mouthed surprise... and laughed.

"Oh, Jack, you are so precious!"  She looked again at the ring, and covered her mouth to stifle her giggles.
"Does... does that mean you will?" he asked nervously.
Rose's expression changed from one of mirthful surprise to incredulity.  "You mean-- you're serious, aren't you?"
"Yes, Rose," Jack said quietly.  "I want to spend my life with you."
"Jack, this is so very sweet of you.  I had no idea you felt this way about me.  But, honestly," she said, hushing her voice slightly, "you're the son of a shipwright!  Not to mention that, at best, you'll become an non-tenured professor.  I couldn't possibly marry you!  You could never provide for me in the manner I deserve."

Jack's face fell, and he looked around the room as if something that might help him make sense of what just happened might be lurking in a corner.
"I see," he said quietly.  He gently retrieved the ring and slipped it back into his vest pocket.  Without another word, he got to his feet and gave Rose a polite kiss on the cheek.  He hesitated for a moment as he looked at her, then he turned and went to the drawing room door.  As he put his hand on the knob, Rose said, "You'll come round this Sunday after services, won't you?  I'm in the mood for a picnic!  Doesn't that sound lovely?"
Jack simply sighed and left the room.

Rose laughed softly to herself, feeling flattered by Jack's proposal.  She went to the bookcase and poured herself a small glass of cognac, and enjoyed the feeling as the alcohol warmed her from within.
"Rose!!"
She turned and found her brother Drake in the doorway, red faced and fuming.
"Drake!  What is the matter?  You look positively beside yourself."

Duckie pushed the door closed and stalked into the room.  "What in God's name is the matter with you, Rose?!  Jack just came into the study, completely devastated!  He muttered something asking you to marry him, and you laughed in his face?"
Rose rolled her eyes and sat down with a flounce.  "I had no idea he was serious!  I mean, even you can see how absurd the whole thing was!  Really, he has no prospects, no breeding, no family money...  There's no way I could possibly marry him."
Duckie stared at his sister in disbelief.  "That was cruel, Rose.  Even for you.  Jack loved you!  That's more important than anyone's breeding or money will ever be.  The man adored you, and you humiliated him!"
Rose's face clouded.  "I suppose I might have hurt his feelings a bit.  Honestly, Drake, I thought he was having me on."
"No, he wasn't.  He's been working up the nerve to ask for your hand over a month now.  For a solid year, he's worshipped the ground you walk on.  That's a wasted year he'll never get back.  A heartbreak he never should have endured."
Rose exhaled in exasperation.  "You make me sound like such a monster!  Jack is resilient.  In a few days, he'll have forgotten all about this nonsense.  You'll see."

Duckie set his jaw as he watched his sister arrange her skirts as if she were about to sit for a portrait.  "Rose, you've crossed a line this time.  Jack Wolfe is my best friend.  Now I have the regret of ever introducing you to him."  He shook his head.  "I shan't forgive you for this.  Not for a long time.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have a heartbroken friend to console."  He turned from his sister and quickly left the room, leaving her alone with her vanity and her cognac.

~~~~~~

The older, infinitely shrewder Rose stared into the fire, smiling smugly to herself.  "Yes, but he's rich now.  A pity about his being married.  I should like to see him again, for old time's sake."  She started to take another sip of cognac, and gave the glass a puzzled look.  "Hmm.  Empty.  Oh, well."
She shrugged and gave a resigned smile, and went to the bookcase to fill her glass yet again.

[Welsh Wench]

"Have you heard from Josiah yet?" Honour asked.
Jack looked up from the book he was reading. "Funny you should mention that. I got a letter today. They reached Amsterdam safely and with no incidents."
"When will he be back?"
"About two weeks. Homesick?"
She leaned over Jack's shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"Yes, I think I am. It was grand to see Megan and Dilys and Gwyneth but I miss the sun."
Jack laughed. "It was funny to see you with your sisters. I swear, the more you talked, the thicker your Welsh accent got. And when you and your sisters lapsed into Welsh, I couldn't keep up."
She laughed. "And you don't realize it, but when you talked with Angus, you kept right up with his Scottish brogue. I never heard you roll your 'r's that way!"
He reached over and patted her cheek.
"You can thank my maternal grandmother for that.  She lived in Scotland and I used to visit her during summer. But we will be home soon enough. I can't wait to see the plantation you bought. It sounds like everything you ever wanted. Even better than Mr. Picou's property."
"About the plantation, Jack---"

"Da-da!" Zara held onto the edge of a small table and let go.
"Come on! That's my girl! Put one foot in front of the other and--"
WHOMP!
Zara sat down on her bottom. Jack sighed. "So close..."
Honour picked her up.
"And now it is time that Zara went to bed. And then I think Mummy needs to get some sleep too. Say night-night to Da."
Zara yawned as she laid her head on Honour's chest. She gave Jack a baby-wave and Jack blew her a kiss as Honour put their daughter to bed.


As they laid in bed, Jack said, "Honour, I think I would like to have your portrait done."
"Mmm hmm....."
"Honour?"
Silence.
He laughed softly and said, "You haven't heard a word I said. Sleep tight, love."
He leaned over and kissed his wife's cheek, then snuffed out the candle.

[Welsh Wench]

"I think this dress is very becoming, don't you?"
Rhiannon looked at Madoc and sighed. "It's alright. But the colour is so awful! I would look like an old woman in that dress."
Madoc's mouth drew into a tight line. "It is very fitting as to your station as Lady Castlemaine."

Rhiannon flung herself backwards on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "But I would look about forty in that dress, Madoc."
He held the dress up. "It is what you will wear."
She took the dress and made a face. "It smells funny. Like it has been in a closet for a long time."
He ignored the remark. "And here are some pearls. Three strands and a rosary attached. To show your piety."
"PIETY?" she laughed.
"Piety. You were, after all, brought up in a convent. Surely piety is not an unknown quality to you."
"Why do I have to sit for a portrait?"
"Because it is a tradition in the Castlemaine legacy."
"So what did you do with the former lovely Lady Castlemaine encaptured for eternity on canvas?"
Madoc looked out the window and said quietly, "Margaret's portrait is now over at Henry's house."
"Well, I am sure he is happy to have his mother back with him again. Can't we just do this another time? Like when I am an old lady? I mean, by the time I am thirty, the character will be there and I will be a much more interesting subject."

Madoc's hand touched her arm and it made her shiver. But not the way Rhys' touch had made her shiver.  Madoc's was cold. As cold as ice. It matched his heart. 'Old Vinegar Veins', Rhiannon had called him under her breath and behind his back.
She held the dress up and said, "I think this dress is hideous."
Madoc grabbed her by the arm and said in his deadly calm voice, "You will wear it if I have to dress you in it myself."
His face was close to her and she could see the coldness in his eyes. She tried to match it but her gaze faltered.
"As  you wish, Milord."

He gave a self-satisfied smile. "That is more like it, Madame. The painter is due here at 1:00. The light in the library will be perfect till late afternoon."
"The library? Madoc, why not the gardens? It's so nice out and the library is musty and---"
"The library."

He let her arm go and Rhiannon rubbed it where it hurt.
"Alright. I'll change into this....gown."
Madoc left and she stepped out of her chemise. Another bruise to add to the other ones on her arms and shoulders. Madoc's control was not only over her mind, but her body as well.
She rubbed the spot, hoping that it wouldn't be seen by anyone. Most of all by her sisters. Dilys would make a scene and at the most inconvenient time. And then Rhiannon would pay for it later.

Rhoslyn, her maid, came into the room.
"Lord Castlemaine sent me to help you lace, Milady."
She could see Rhoslyn glance at Rhiannon's arm and bite her lip.
"Oh..this. Silly me. I ran into the casement window latch."
"Ye do that quite a bit, Milady. Always bumping into what you ought not. Ye be carefull, Milady. I like you."
Rhoslyn met her eyes and Rhiannon nodded slowly. "Thank you, Rhoslyn. I shall. Now would  you help me into this dress?"
Rhoslyn blurted out, "That one?"
Rhiannon looked puzzled. "Yes. I don't like it much myself...."
"But--but that dress be HERS!"
Rhoslyn's eyes darted nervously to the window.
The window that overlooked the cemetery.

Rhiannon dropped the dress as if it were on fire.
"You--you mean it was HERS?"
"Aye, milady. Lord Castlemaine bought it for her. She was wearing it the night she fell down the stairs. Broke her neck clean, it did."
Rhiannon gathered the dress up. "I refuse to wear the dress of a dead woman. Especially one who was wearing it when the incident that helped her shed this mortal coil  occured.  And I don't care if I get....never mind. I know what to do."

With determination, Rhiannon took the dress and held it oh, so carefully to the fire.
Rhoslyn's eyes grew round.
"Milady..don't..."
Rhiannon took the dress with the singed front.
"Oh, dear. Look what happened. I guess I warmed myself in front of the fire too closely. It appears to be ruined. Now, if Lord Vinega---if Lord Madoc wants my portrait, he will have to settle for the deep purple one. Oh, and lace me tight. VERY tight. I may as well show my best side to the painter. Lord Castlemaine doesn't want to see the portrait until it is done. A nice surprise for the lord, don't you think?"

She knew she would pay dearly for her rebellion but she didn't care. All she knew was that she was in a hopeless situation and this was one small amount of control she had over her own life.

If only you had taken me with you, Rhys.....

[Welsh Wench]

 
"NO!!!!  PLEASE NO!!"

The scream from his wife woke Jack up out of a sound sleep.
"Honour? Honour! Shhh....my darling, it is just a nightmare. Hush...I'm here."
He gently rocked her as she sobbed in her twilight sleep.
"I--I'm sorry, " she could barely whisper.
He made soothing sounds but it didn't help the worried look on his face.
"Honour," he said gently, "perhaps you should talk to someone about these nightmares. A priest, if you have one handy. Or maybe Megan and you can get to the root of them. Or you could talk to me..."

From the nursery, Zara began to cry.
Honour started to get up.
"No, don't, Honour. I'll tend to her."
She laid back against the pillow and tried to get herself under control. Within a few minutes, Jack came back to bed, holding Zara.
"I guess she woke up when you screamed. But Mummy is alright now, isn't she, precious?"
Jack handed Zara to her and then got back into bed.
"This bed seems to be big enough for all of us, wouldn't you say? Just this once?"
Honour held her baby close to her, trying not to cry. She kissed the top of her head and tucked her in between the both of them. Jack looked over at Zara and put his finger up to where she could clutch it.  Sleepily, Zara took his finger and held tight.
Jack smiled gently at Honour and said, "Are you alright now, love?"
She managed a smile. "Jack, I will be fine. I just had an intense dream."
Jack stroked her cheek. "Want to tell me about it?"
She sighed. "It was kind of jumbled. I --I was just in a trap and couldn't escape. But I am alright now."
"Is it always the same dream?"
"Pretty much. I'm like a wounded animal and my way out is suddenly taken away from me and I feel so...helpless."
"Honour, talk to a priest if it will help. Or even me."
She shook her head.
"There is nothing to talk about. Jack, it is just something that I have had since I was a child."
"Your mother?" he said gently.
Honour shrugged and yawned. "Can we talk about this in the morning?"
He kissed the top of her head and said, "Yes, my dear. Now get some sleep."
But she didn't reply.
She was already under the power of Morpheus.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Hudgins knocked three times on the study door and entered to find Rose contemplating a book and her usual cognac.  He waited dutifully for her to acknowledge his presence before clearing his throat.  Finally she looked up.
"Yes, Hudgins?  What is it?"
"A letter arrived for you, Countess."
Rose's eyes lit up.  Letters usually meant a solicitation for patronage or an invitation to a ball.  She hoped it was the latter.  She put down her book and took  the envelope from him.
"Thank you, Hudgins.  That will be all."
Hudgins bowed slightly at the waist and left the study.  Rose examined the envelope.  It was simply addressed.

The Countess Carlisle
Tyneforthe Hall
Shrewsbury, Shropshire, England 

The only clue as to who it might be from was the wax seal on the back with its single letter "L".

She went to a small writing bureau and fetched a letter opener with which she broke the seal.  Hurriedly, Rose opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.  Just as she had hoped, it was an invitation to Bancroft Hall in Wales.  Lord and Lady Llewellyn's annual Winter ball, the premier gala of the season.  Megan and Daffyd always threw the most delightful soirées.  Anyone who was anyone would be there.  Rose had missed the previous year's ball due to a lingering illness, but she would not miss this year's event.  Besides, there was always the chance  of some new revelation about that nasty little scandal involving Megan's younger sister a few years ago.  While Rose had never cared much for the impetuous  young woman, there was a begrudging respect for her spirit.  Her eyes lit up as she read the invitation.  Beaumaris!  She had almost forgotten that's where the Llewellyn's lived.  That's where Drake had told her his ship was docked.  Where Jack's ship was docked.  Perhaps she could kill two birds with one stone; attend the ball, and see an old flame?

Rose gave an urgent tug on the bell ribbon, and within a minute Hudgins was at the door of the study.
"Yes, madame?  What may I get for you?"
"Hudgins, have you seen my brother about?"
"Yes, madame.  I left him in the west library.  Shall I fetch him?"
"No, that's quite all right," she said as she brushed past him.  "I'll see him myself."
"Is there a problem, madame?" Hudgins called after her.
"Not at all!" replied Rose, never breaking stride.  "In fact, things couldn't be better!"

She quietly pushed open the door to the library.  There was her brother, seated before the fireplace with a large stack of books and a tray of tea.  Rose cleared her throat to catch his attention.
"Pardon me, Drake.  Am I interrupting?" she asked sweetly.
Duckie looked up from his book and smiled.  "Rose!  I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in!  I was lost in thought.  You never told me Edwin had an interest in botany!  He has a fantastic collection of books on the subject, and his notes are exhaustive..."
"Yes, yes," she interrupted.  "Take any of them you want for your library.  They're just gathering dust here."
"Rose, I couldn't---"
"Drake, you'll be doing me a favour.  But enough about the silly books.  I have an important question to ask you."
Duckie put down the book he had been reading and gave her his full attention.  "All right then.  What has you so excited?"
Rose quickly sat down in the chair next to his.  "When do you need to be back in to your ship?"
He gave her a puzzled look.  "Just over two weeks from now.  Why?  Are you in a hurry to get rid of me?"
"Not at all!  You're a positively delightful guest, in spite of being my brother."  She held up the invitation.  "I've just received an invitation to a ball in two weeks that I simply cannot and will not miss.  Care to guess where it takes place?"
Duckie could feel a knot begin to form in his stomach.  "Beaumaris?"
"Yes!" she chirped excitedly.  "Isn't that a wonderful coincidence?"
"That's one way of looking at it."
"You simply must be my escort, Drake!  I won't have it any other way."
"Of course you wouldn't."
"I'm sorry?"
"I mean, of course I'll be your escort," he recovered.  "But I'm afraid I didn't bring proper clothing for a social engagement..."
"Never you worry!  I know a marvellous tailor in London.  I'll send for him straight away.  I insist!"
"That's very generous of you Rose, but you needn't go to such lengths for me."
"Nonsense, Drake!  You'll be accompanying a countess.  I wouldn't do for you to be dressed in anything but the finest."
"No, I suppose it wouldn't," he said with a hint of resignation.  Duckie couldn't help but wonder when the other shoe was going to drop.