EL LOBO DEL MAR

[Welsh Wench]

Jack laid the hairbrush down and moved to massage Honour's shoulders.
"Mmmm..Jack, that feels wonderful. I never realized how hard carrying Zara around could be on a person's back."
"No, this isn't muscle strain, love. This is good old fashioned stress. Stress in the form of Lord Rhodri Conaway."
"I can't disagree with  you.  When do you expect El Lobo to be back in port?"
"Briggs is due back next week with the swag unloaded in Amsterdam and then we shall be heading back. One stop in the Canary Islands and then we are homeward bound. Wherever that may be."
"To our plantation, of course."
"Honour, you never did tell me what it is like."

He leaned to kiss her ear and whispered, "The land. I want to know what you spent my money on."
She held her finger up. "OUR money!"
"Alright, OUR money. Tell me about it."

"Jack, you will love it! The house has a verandah wrapped around it and the entrance has six Grecian columns. There is an upstairs balcony. And the stairs are red brick. A huge massive oak door."
"Sounds impressive!"
"Oh, it is. I saw this house and fell in love with it. There is a marble staircase that splits in two.  And French doors that open out to a brick patio and a view of the ocean. The owner left his mahogany table and sixteen matching chairs. And a beautiful cut-glass chandelier from Murano. The kitchen is detached from the house, of course. There is a brick walkway with a pergola covered with grapevines so we can make our own wine, too.  And the gardens are covered with exotic flowers. The perfume in the air at night is divine!"

He kissed her shoulder and she leaned back into him, closing her eyes.
"What is the bedroom like?" he whispered.
Her eyes flew open and she smacked his hand on her shoulder.
"Jack, you are so bad! There is a massive four poster bed with mosquito netting that was left behind. I gave the owner a bit extra for some furnishings. The coverlet is down-filled and the curtains are lace. The balcony looks out over the ocean too."
He murmured, "Just like our room in Castara," as he kissed her neck. "And how many bedrooms?"
"Hmmm? Oh...oh, six, I think. The overseer and his wife have been taking care of it for me."
"You, madame?"
"Well, at the time it was ME. Now it is US."
"And Zara's room?"
"There is an antique cradle there in the alcove. But she can have her own room."
'There really is five hundred acres?"
"Give or take a few."
"Outbuildings?"
"Sugar mill right there and storage buildings.Two barns and a ten-stall stable. Some slave cabins that I want to refinish and rent them out inexpensively to the laborers. No slaves, Jack. That is non-negotiable. I won't have it."
"Agreed."
He moved his hands around her waist and reached up to untie the gown.
It fell away with one soft swish.
She touched his hand gently and said softly, "Jack Wolfe, sometimes I think you take my breath away."
He kissed her neck in that one spot.
"And the rest of the time, I know you do."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

The two lovers looked at one another lovingly as they caught their breath.
"I don't care how much you dress as the gentleman, Jack," Honour smiled, her face aglow as her golden hair spilled across her pillow.  "You still make love like a pirate."
Jack caressed her cheek.  "Would you have it any other way?"
"No!" she giggled as she ran her finger across his chest.  "Never.  I hope it's always like this with us."
"As long as I draw a breath, it will be," vowed Jack.  "Fair warning, I intend to keep breathing a very, very long time."
"I should hope so!  You've spoiled me for other men."
"Ah!  My master plan is a success!"
They laughed together, and Jack gave her lips a lingering kiss.  "But I'm afraid I neglected to foresee one thing; you've spoiled me for any other woman."
Honour smiled wickedly.  "You're not the only one with a master plan, Jack Wolfe.  Though I'm sure half the Caribbean will lament my victory!"
"Only half?  Give me some credit, darling!" he teased.  "Hold on.  I have an idea."
She giggled again, this time gently raking her nails against his skin.  "You're not going to let me get any rest this night, are you?"
"No fair reading my mind!" he protested.
"It's not your mind I was reading..."
Jack moved to kiss her again, but when Honour closed her eyes, he kissed the tip of her nose.  Her eyes popped open in surprise.

"First, we need to celebrate," he said with a devilish wink.  He reached under the bed and produced a bottle of merlot and two glasses.  Honour took one glass, then he pulled the cork from the bottle with his teeth and poured the wine.  Honour playfully took the cork from her husband's teeth and returned it to the bottle.
Jack raised his glass.  "To our master plans!"
"To our shared brilliance!  We managed to snare each other forever," she said as they clinked their glasses.  "How little you knew I had set my sights on you that day, all those years ago."
"What I want to know is how you knew I have a weakness for blueberries."
"Women's intuition."
"I bow to your superior cunning and wiles."
"You'll have to do more than that."
"Any hints?" he winked.
"I trust your imagination."
"I can imagine a lot."
"And that's one reason I love you," she smiled over the rim of her glass.  She took a sip of wine and sighed.  "Do you hear that sound?"
"What sound?  I don't hear anything."
"That's just it.  I can't believe Zara is still sleeping!"
"I am, too, with all that racket we just made."

Honour gave a look of mock indignation and slapped Jack's arm.  She set her glass down on the bedside table and got out of bed.  Jack watched approvingly as she retrieved her dressing gown from the floor and wrapped it around herself.  Quietly, she padded over to the door to Zara's room and opened it.  Candlelight fell upon the child's cradle to reveal a peacefully sleeping little girl, still clutching her favourite toy rabbit.  Honour smiled and closed the door with a soft click of the latch.  As she walked back to the bed, she noticed Jack seemed lost in thought.  She could see small furrows in his brow, and he was frowning slightly.  Not wanting to lose the light mood of the night, she gave a low whistle to catch his attention.
"Oh, sailor..."
Jack blinked and looked up just as Honour let the gown slip from around her and fall to the floor.
"And there is another reason I love you!" laughed Jack, and he patted the bed.  "Get back in here where you belong."
She gave him a coy smile as she picked up her wine glass and slipped in between the warm covers beside her husband.  "You know I have to ask."
"About?"
Honour took Jack's hand.  "I saw the start of it.  The frowny face.  The face that tells me your are thinking about something serious."
"You know me so well," he said.  "Honour, this has all been so perfect.  Well, except for your father.  A sour grape, that one."
"Father has always been that way.  What hurts the most is how he never fails to put the Conaway family name before the needs of the family itself.  But I do enjoy the way you handle him."
Jack smiled.  "He's not that difficult to manage.  Too puffed up with protocol and decorum to really come after me.  But I'll tell you what-- part of me would love, really love, to tell him the truth about me.  Just to see the steam come out of his ears like a kettle."
Honour laughed a little, but part of her worried a little that Jack might actually follow through on that whim.  Lord Rhodri Conaway was an expert at getting under people's skin.  "You never really would tell him, would you?"
"What?  Oh, no, darling," Jack reassured her.  "He's being cordial enough toward you, and I don't want to upset that balance.  Besides, he strikes me as someone who wouldn't think twice about handing me over to the authorities to protect the family honour," he said, finishing with affected snobbery.  "Nor will I have him lock me up just to teach you a lesson.  I mean, think of it!  After everything I've seen and been through, only to end up in a prison?  In Cardiff?  How unglamorous is that?"
"Hey, I happen to like Cardiff, thank you very much!" Honour laughed.
"There's a bit of good news.  I'd be assured you'd find a reason to come visit, if only for the chance to shop," he teased.
Honour sipped her wine casually, and with a toss of her hair replied, "There's a fabulous leather-works near the prison.  They make the most divine boots.  It will give me an excuse to drop by to see you."
"And Zara?"
"She's a little young for boots, don't you think?"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.  "She is your daughter, Honour.  I was surprised to see knit booties on her feet, not leather ones."
The lovers laughed together and exchanged affectionate glances.  But Honour could still see that hint of trepidation in his eyes.
"You're really going to miss this place?" she asked, knowing there was more to it.
Jack nodded.  "This place, this time together, the warmth and generosity of Megan and Daffyd... yes.  I will miss it.  Darling, this is the first time since those first few weeks we were married that I've been able to let my guard down and enjoy the moment.  No cares, no responsibilities outside of you and Zara.  I like it, Honour.  I like the peace.  It's a warm cocoon I'd rather not leave.  But I know we must.  And I'm dreading it."
Honour brushed a long lock of hair away from his face.  "But we'll have that again, once we're back in Barbados."
"I know, and I want that more than anything in the world.  A safe, peaceful haven where we can raise Zara and live out our lived together."  He sighed, and gave a melancholy look.  "Yet, before we can begin that life, we have to sail to the end of the New World aboard a pirate ship with a pirate crew, and I, their pirate captain.  Once there, I have to find a way to walk away from it all forever.  The Account, the crew, the ship... all of it."
Honour shook her head.  "I can't see you giving up the Lobo.  Maybe you could sell off the guns and refit her?  There has to be something we can do.  You love that ship."
Jack looked deep into her eyes.  "I love you more."
Honour could feel the tears begin to well.  "You told me once, a long time ago, that you could never be without that ship.  It's too much a part of you."
"I know better now," he smiled tenderly. 
"How do you do it?" Honour asked.
"Do what?  I mean, yeah, I know a thing or two about female anatomy, and what works.  Like that little thing I do that make you..."
"NOT THAT!!  I mean, you've seen so much.  So many terrible things, yet you manage to stay optimistic.  How do you carry on?"
Jack affected a haughty air.  "I am English! It's what we do."
She giggled and poked him playfully in the ribs.  "I'm serious, silly!  It's as if nothing can hold you down."
"Honour, I had no future before you.  That made it easy to endure anything and everything.  When one has nothing to look forward to, anything is imaginable, and tolerable.  But now, I have you and Zara.  I can step away from that old life and forge a new future.  You have made that possible for me.  And for that, I'm ever in your debt.  With you, I can imagine anything."

Honour finished her wine and set the glass aside on the bedside table.  She snuggled down in the bed and laid her head on Jack's chest, and thought for a moment about the many things she had endured over the years.  No matter what, she found a way, as Jack put it, to carry on.  But instead of the usual bitterness that come with those memories, Honour found comfort.  Just as Jack found boundless hope in her and Zara, she found the same in him and their daughter as well.  Honour realised just how she and Jack were kindred spirits.  More than that.  They were, in every sense, soul mates.
Jack stroked her hair.  "You're quiet all of a sudden.  Did I upset you?"
"No," replied Honour softly.  "No, I'm happy."
"Did I answer your question?  I know it probably doesn't make sense..."
"Jack, it makes all the sense in the world.  Because you do the same for me."
"I'm glad I make you happy, Honour.  Even when we're not talking about that little thing I do that..." He paused, waiting for her reaction.
"Yes?" she asked coyly.
"Usually you interrupt me when I start talking bawdy."
Honour looked up at her husband with a gleam in her eye.  "Why do you think I didn't bother putting my nightgown back on?"
"Why, you little temptress!" smiled Jack.  "How deliciously lewd of you!"
"Jack, are you going to talk for the rest of the night?"
"I guess you're going to have to find a way to shut me up."
She snaked her hand behind his neck and drew him to her.
"Shut up, Jack."

[Welsh Wench]

"Good morning, Megan!"
"Well, good morning to you, too!"
"Have we lots to do today? The ball is tomorrow night."
Megan looked around. "Any cleaner and this place could be Westminster Abbey. No, dear, we just need the last minute decorations and the candles placed around the room. And the dais over there is where the musicians will play."
"You think of everything."
Megan smiled, "Well, this winter ball is a tradition started by Daffyd's grandmother so who am I to break tradition?"
Honour hummed while she placed candles in the candleholders.
"And what has you in such a fine mood, sister dear?"

Honour stopped and said, "What? Oh..well..I got a good night's sleep."
"Oh, is that what we are calling it now?"
Honour retorted, "I tend to see a glow on YOUR face too, Megan."
She laughed, "Well, I dare say even with Father under the roof, we both managed to have a bit of romance, didn't we?"
Honour looked in the mirror. "I didn't think it showed. I mean, I had heard it but never really looked."
"Where is Jack now?"
"He is up in the room gathering some nautical charts and maps to show Daffyd. Zara is with Nanny Greyson."
"So it is time for the sisters to garner a bit of time for themselves. Let's put our feet up and enjoy our tea and scones before we undertake the final touches on the room."

Honour dipped her scone into the clotted cream.
"I must say, Megan, that this is what I really miss in Barbados. Fresh cream from the contented cows of the English countryside!"
Megan hesitated. "Rhiannon, have you ever considered telling Jack about...you know...Madoc and the whole unfortunate incident?"
Honour put her teacup down and shook her head. "What purpose would it serve, Megan? I can't tell Jack about Madoc. And that 'unfortunate incident' you refer to happened to be one of Jack's best friends."
Megan's jaw dropped. Honour said quietly, "Yes, well....I don't know the whole story. But when we were in Castara he told me how Rhys died. Run through by a jealous husband. Megan, how could I possibly tell him the truth after that?"
Megan hesitated. "Did Jack ever wonder about...you know..the other men in your life? Surely he must have know that you had a lover before he came along."


She carefully placed  her teacup back in the saucer. "We never discussed it. We respect each other's privacy on our past....encounters. Jack was not a choirboy, Megan. Not by a long shot. It's what he does now that concerns me, not his past."
"I understand."

Megan hesitated. "Have the nightmares stopped, Rhiannon?"
"For the most part."
"Have you had any since you have been here?"
She nodded. "Twice now. Jack doesn't quite know what to think. He suggested I talk to a priest or someone."
"There is always that Father Simon you told me about. The one you met in Caernarvon. Do you want to see him?"
"No. Megan, I--I didn't go see Taffy Farmington that day. I went to Castlemaine."
"You---WHAT?"
"I went to the manor. I had to confront what happened that night. I needed closure, Megan. I had to confront what happened there and put the ghosts of the past to rest. It is the only way I can move forward."
"Did it help?"
"I think so. Megan, last night I had never been closer to Jack. I don't mean in the physical sense...obviously Zara proves THAT!"
Megan laughed. "I figured as much."
Honour smiled. "Jack makes me happy. For the first time in a long time, I am happy. Complete."
"Didn't Rhys make you happy?"
Honour took a sip of her tea and her face became thoughtful.
"Yes. But not in the way Jack makes me feel. And not because of Zara. Rhys belonged to another girl. One with youthful and dreamy ideals. But that girl 'died' when she was palmed off with a handshake and a fare-thee-well to Madoc Castlemaine. That old Vinegar-Veins never understood. All he was about was control."
"Did he ever--strike you, Rhiannon?"
"Not in the sense you think. He never beat me. But he was cruel. I had bruises to prove it. A grab here, a pinch there..."
"And he tried to keep you from us."
Honour nodded. "But he never counted on a young girl who decided she wanted more out of life."
"Do you think of Rhys much?"
"How could I not, Megan? I was a party to what happened to him. But I can't undo the past. Did I love Rhys? Yes, I did. Rhiannon Conaway loved Rhys Morgan."
"And now?"

"Megan, do you remember the story Parry used to tell us? The one about the Phoenix?"
"Vaguely. You were always more interested in his stories than I was."
"Only so I could trick him and run off with a horse to pick blueberries. But the phoenix was a legendary bird that would set itself on fire and rise from the ashes every five hundred years."
"And?"
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I was like that bird. When Rhys was murdered and died in my arms, Rhiannon Conaway died too. And from those ashes, a new person arose."
"Honour Bright."

"Yes. Honour Bright became the woman you see today. Megan, I don't quite know how to explain it. It wasn't like an epiphany, It was a slow, painful rise."
"And you found it in Barbados when you married Jack Wolfe."
Honour shook her head. "No, it came later. I think it was when Jack and I put down the mutiny when we were out to sea in December. We both saw a side of each other we didn't know was there. Lord knows I tried to fight it. And I think Jack did too. But love conquered all."
She put down her teacup again.
"This is getting way too sentimental for me, Megan."
"The trait of the Welsh, my dear. You can't fight it."
"I'll always think of Rhys, Megan. How could I not? But I deserve happiness. And I found it."

Megan walked over to her front window and gazed out at the new-fallen snow. A part of her longed to tell her sister what the rumours in the shire were. But as Rhiannon had said, she deserved happiness. Daffyd had said, 'Let sleeping dogs lie.'
The annoying little voice that seemed to belong to the Conaways whispered in Megan's ear, 'But doesn't she deserve a guilt-free life too?'
To the little voice, Megan said, 'Shut up!"
"I beg your pardon, Megan?"
She smiled at her sister and said brightly, "Nothing. Now....shall we put the finishing touches on the ballroom?"
"Let's do! I can't wait till the ball!"
Megan gave her sister a hug. "And you can come down the stairs on the arm of your husband.  The undead one."
"The one that makes me happy."
Megan gave her a hug. "And I am happy they are the same person! Now, shall we put the silver trays here...or there?"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

A gentle snow fell silently on the hamlet of Llanfaes, just outside Beaumaris.  Drake Gander watched the drifting flakes settle on the sleeping farmlands from the window of the cottage he and his sister, Rose, were staying for the next few days.  He sighed wistfully.  As beautiful as the snow-covered hills were, he longed for the lush green islands and warming sun of the Caribbean.  As a boy, he loved the wintertime.  But now it felt almost claustrophobic.  He was used to taking a book with him to sit upon the open deck and enjoy the fresh air.  A seat indoors by the fire would have to suffice for now.
"One more day until this silly ball, then another four or five until the ship is in port," Duckie said to himself.  "You can hold on that long."
It wasn't that he didn't love his sister.  Rose could be trying, to say the least.  A month under the same roof with her was proving to be his limit.

To call the house a cottage was an exercise in understatement.  It would have easily served as a proper home for a family of six, with everyone having their own comfortable bedroom.  The only thing preventing that was the lack of a kitchen.  Meals were taken at the manor house, which belonged to Kiran Stapleton, a wealthy land baron and friend of Rose's departed husband, Edwin.  The food was rich and plentiful, as was Kiran himself.  He was a most accommodating host, as generous as he was rotund.  His wife, Ffanci, made sure their every need was seen to.  But for Duckie, it felt more like a gilded cage.  He longed for the simplicity of life aboard ship again.  His quarters, his surgery, his domain.  The upcoming week couldn't pass fast enough.

Duckie took a sip of brandy, and turned as he heard the latch on the front door close.  Rose stood at the entryway, shaking the snow from her cloak.
"Taking a stroll in the fresh air, sister of mine?" he asked.
Rose gave him a bemused look.  "And why would I do such a thing in this beastly cold, brother of mine?   I was dispatching the driver on an errand."
"You did?  I wish you had told me you were going to do that.  I had a favour to ask of Mister Pertwee."
"Who?"
"The driver.  Silas Pertwee.  Honestly, Rose, do you not even know the names of the people you employ?"
Rose waved her hand dismissively.  "I have four drivers, Drake.  You can't expect me to remember all their names."  She walked to the cabinet and poured herself a glass of cognac.
"No, I suppose not.  That would take effort."
She rolled her eyes as she sipped the honey-coloured liquor.  "Oh, don't start.  You really should learn to relax and enjoy the finer things."
"Not when it means denying others simple respect, such as knowing their names."
"You missed your calling, Drake," she sighed.  "The way you preach, the ministry would have been a good vocation choice.  I'll have you know, I was doing you a favour."
"How so?"
"I sent Mister Pertwee to the port, to enquire if your ship had arrived yet."
Duckie gave her a dubious look.  "And what name did you tell him to ask about?"
"El Londo de Par, of course!"
Duckie laughed and shook his head.  "Close, but so very wrong.  You told him nothing of the sort."
"And how can you be so sure, Doctor Gander?"
"It's El Lobo del Mar.  The Sea Wolf, in Spanish."
"A trifling mistake.  I never claimed to be conversant in Spanish.  They'll correct him at the port," she shot back, obviously flustered.  She polished off her drink and poured another.
"You sent him to enquire about one Captain Jack Wolfe.  Didn't you?"

"Drake, you see conspiracies where none exist," she answered with a wounded tone.  "Must you interrogate me over every kindness I try to give?"
Duckie sighed.  "I'm sorry, Rose.  I do appreciate what you're trying to do, but it was unnecessary.  El Lobo isn't due back in port for another six days, and Mister Briggs is a very punctual man."
"Even so," replied Rose, "He may have come back early.  Either way it's a bit more coin in Mister Pertwee's pocket.  If it will make you feel any better, I shall pay him double what I promised for his bother."
"There's no need for that, now..."
"No, I insist!  If I sent him on a wild goose chase, then I must make amends.  End of discussion."
"All right, then," Duckie smiled resignedly.  "I'm sure he'll appreciate your generosity."
"He had better!  I'm doing this to soothe your sensibilities.  Honestly, Drake, your moral compass will drain me dry at this rate," she teased.

Duckie smiled at his sister.  There was the sense of humour he remembered Rose having.  Perhaps he had misjudged her after all.

Meanwhile, a heavy black coach came to a stop outside the office of the Beaumaris harbour master.  Silas Pertwee secured the reins and hopped down from driver's bench.  A small bell attached to the door announced his arrival to the harbour master, Mister Wickliff, who looked up from his ledger in annoyance at the young man.
"Aye, lad?  What can I help you with?" he asked.
"I've got an urgent message for Captain Jack Wolfe," Silas said, just as Rose had instructed him.  "Is his ship here?  It's very important that I find him."
"Oh, all right," Wickliff scowled.  "Wolfe, did you say?  Do you have the name of his ship?"
"Yes, sir.  El Lobo del Mar."
Wickliff opened another heavy ledger and began leafing through it.  "I'm certain there's no ship in port of that name, but let me look for this captain..."  He turned to the most recent entries and ran his finger down the page, reciting names as he went.  "Walters, Wembly, Whitting, ah!  Here it is!  Jack Wolfe.  Nice penmanship.  And just as I thought, his ship isn't due back in port for a week yet."
"Oh," Silas said with obvious disappointment.  "Did he leave word as to where he would be staying?"
"I'm afraid I'll have to know the nature of your business to give you that, my young friend."
Silas dug in his pocket and retrieved the envelope Rose had given him in case of this very situation.  He handed it over to Wickliff, who opened it immediately.  The harbour master's eyes grew wide as he read the bank promissory note for 20 pounds sterling.
"Well, this is urgent, indeed!" exclaimed Wickliff.  "Says here your Captain Wolfe is staying at Bancroft Hall, right here near Beaumaris.  I'm sorry, but I don't have directions for you."
Silas Pertwee smiled broadly.  "No worries, sir.  I shall ask around and find my way.  Thank you for your time."

The young driver left the harbour master's office with a spring in his step, knowing his mistress would be very happy with the information he'd gained, and that he would be collecting the handsome reward she offered. 

[Welsh Wench]

Honour looked through boxes that were strewn over the floor.
"Now where did I put the slipper?...Ah! There it is. And now where is the other one..MUIR!"
Her wolfdog sat there with her peau de soie slipper delicately in his mouth. She said firmly, "Drop it!"
Jack chuckled, "You always did leave your boots anywhere you happened to take them off."
She reached into another box and retrieved a corset and bloomers.
Sitting back on her heels, she sighed. "I will be so glad when this fou-fou stuff is over with. As much as I enjoy being a woman---"
"And as much as I enjoy having you be a woman---"
"I feel so much more relaxed when I am just in a chemise or even a pair of breeches."
Jack fussed with his cravat, tying and untying it.
"I just can't seem to get it right. No matter how I try, it always ends up in a monkey's fist!"
Honour stood up.
"Here. Let me try."
She deftly tied it and put a stickpin in it.  Standing back, she admired her work.
"I love that silk shirt on you."
He fastened cufflinks into the French cuffs. "Well, you won't catch me wearing any lace at the throat or cuffs."
She kissed him quickly, "I wouldn't have it any other way.  Now let me try to get dressed."

She slipped behind the screen and five minutes later she emerged. Dressed in her bloomers and a very light chemise, she had a corset around her waist. "I think I need to ask Derwena to help me."
Jack shook his head.
"Why, Mrs Wolfe--how many times have we been over this? I can lace as quickly as I can 'un'."
She laughed, "Yes, but that usually involved a dagger and you made short work of those laces. Just a flick of the blade and moving upwards and it serves your purpose. Quick and tidy. I'm surprised I didn't get a chest cold!"
"Hey, you were kept plenty warm."
He turned her around.
"Now hold on to the bedpost and suck in. Not that you need this corset."
She held on tightly and Jack pulled the laces tight. He finally planted his foot gently on her bottom and pulled back.
"Whoa, Nelly!"
She reached behind her to smack him. "I am NOT a mare, Jack."
"Tight enough?"
"I can still breathe but yes, that is tight enough."
She disappeared behind the screen again.

When she emerged, she was wearing a burgundy peau de soie gown. The dress was off-shoulder, the sleeves fitted, ending into a point above the middle finger. The bodice was fitted and dropped to the waist, black lace overlaid on top of the burgundy. The waist was form-fitted to her body and then flared out at the hips so that the slightest movement sent it into motion all its own.
Jack stared at her.
"Too much?" she asked.
"My Lord, no! It's just--"
"What?"
"Honour, you take my breath away. Just when I thought you couldn't be more beautiful, you surprise me.  I don't know if it is because we are on land, there is candlelight, or you are the mother of my child."
She looked up at him hopefully. "Then you approve?"
"Wholeheartedly."
She rummaged in her jewelry box and pulled out a ruby necklace.
"I think this will be perfect. Would you fasten it for me?"
She swept her hair up and felt warm breath on her neck.
She giggled, "Not fair, Jack! You know just the right place..."
He whispered, "I should. I've visited this spot enough times."
Honour turned around and took his face in her hands. "As much as I would love to, we are due to make out debut in half an hour. And Father is already giving us the fisheye."
Jack burst out laughing. "The fisheye?"
She nodded. "You know--like this."
She squinted one eye and looked down, all the time screwing her mouth up like she was sucking on a pickle.
Jack roared with laughter. "Where did you ever learn to make that face?"
She laughed with him. "When Megan and I were younger--I must have only been about five--I made that face at Megan when Father was pontificating at one of his Sunday dinners. I looked over at her and I remembered it all too well--Megan snorted milk out of her nose!"
"NO!"
"Yes, and ever since then, she hasn't been able to drink milk!"

[Welsh Wench]

Jack stretched out on the bed and patted the spot next to him.
"A half hour, you say?"
She held her hand up. "Oh, no, you don't, John Michael Wolfe!"
"What, you don't trust me?"
"Trust you? Um...no. You know I have a low threshold of resistance as far as you are concerned and I----"
"Da-da!"

Jack and Honour looked up to see their little girl standing in the doorway.
Honour looked over and laughed, "My willpower just got a boost from my own daughter!"
Honour scooped the little girl up in her arms and deposited her in the place that Jack had previously tried to coax Honour to take.
"Well, hello, Miss Zara!"
Zara reached over to touch Jack's face and he let out a growl and pretended to nip her fingers. She squealed and tried it again.
Honour put her hand to her mouth to hold back her laughter. "I must say, Captain Wolfe, that you have charmed her."
He hugged his daughter and said, "Like I did her mother?"

Just then Nanny Greyson came in.
"And so like her mother she be! This one will be the one into the horse-stealing and the blueberries!"
Jack burst out laughing. Honour raised her eyebrow. "Not so funny, Jack Wolfe!"
He shook his head. "I just had a vision of Zara in one of the cannons, her little feet sticking out and kicking!"
Honour sighed. "Then I guess you will need to baby-proof the guns."
"WHAT?"
"With some sort of mesh."
"Honour, you DON'T baby-proof weapons."
Nanny Greyson picked Zara up and said over her shoulder, "You do with this one!"
Zara's mouth went into a trembling baby-pout as she reached for Jack over Nanny's shoulder. Her arms outstretched as she started to wail, "Da-da!"
Jack started after her and Honour stopped him. "There is such a thing as spoiling a child, Jack."
"I know, but she's my little girl."
"Jack, let's just have a nice time tonight. Just the two of us."
He sighed. "I suppose.  Maybe we should enjoy it while we can. After all, I am sure this is not the end of the Wolfe pack."
She ran her finger up and down his arm. "I thought we were going to wait a while."
"Honour, I really would like another child. But this time I want to be in on the beginning."
"You were. At least for the important part. You just didn't know it."
She picked up a hand mirror to check the back of her hair in the tall mirror.
"I'd like a son."
"Jack, ALL men want sons. I'll see what I can come up with. But one thing I want to remind you of. I am NOT a broodmare. I don't intend to be standing behind a baby every nine months."
"How about a baker's dozen?"
"How about I see the stablemaster who happens to have a nice dagger?  One snip and it's all over. Well, the part about you acting like a stallion."
Jack winced as Honour laughed. "OK you can act like a stallion with the equipment of a gelding. The factory will be shut down but  we still have the playground."
He made a face at her. "You are a cruel, cruel woman, Honour Bright! You have these thoughts often?"
She laughed, "I did when I had my lying-in with Zara. But yes, Jack, when we get to Barbados, I don't see why we can't plan for future wolfes."
He looked a bit pensive. "I know what I would like to name our first born son."
"Jack, all men want to name their firstborn after themselves. But naming a chid 'junior' doesn't impart immortality on you."
Jack shook his head. "No, this is for a man that gave me my life."
"You want to name your son Charles after your father?"
"No."
"Darling, I am running out of options here."
"I want to name him Rhys. After the man who rescued me from Mendoza. Rhys Morgan Wolfe. How does that sound?"
*CRASH!!*

Honour stooped to pick up the pieces of the shattered mirror with her trembling fingers.
"OW!"
She sucked on her finger.
Jack bent over to look at her finger.
"Just a surface cut. Here's a cloth to wrap around it. I'll pick this mess up. What happened? It just slip from your hand?"
She nodded. "Yes."
Jack smiled, "Guess the thought of more children has you rattled, love. But never fear--I shall be gentle! Times like this I wish we could just stay in our room and shut the whole world out."

"We don't have to stay till the end if you don't want to."
"Promise?"
"No."
"What?"
"I want to dance and have every woman there envying me my handsome husband, the commercial investor of exports and imports!"
He laughed as he put on his new frock coat of black and silver brocade.
"You like?"
She put her hands on his collar and drew him to her. In a small voice, she said, "Jack, hold me like you never want to let me go."
He wrapped his arms around her. "Like this?"
She nodded. "I do love you, Jack Wolfe."
Touching foreheads, he whispered, "I'll hold you to that."
She gave him a beguiling smile and whispered, "Rabbit!"

Honour took one last look in the mirror and pinched her cheeks to redden them. She dabbed a bit of scented water behind her ears as Jack waited impatiently at the door.
"Mrs. Wolfe, if you don't get your behind over here tout suite...."
She gathered up her skirt and said, "I'm coming....I'm coming..."

At the top of the staircase, Honour hesitated. "Now, remember, Jack...just for tonight your wife's name is Rhiannon. Tomorrow I go back to being 'Honour'."
"I've done alright so far, haven't I?"
"Yes, you have. And I love you for it."

The two descended the staircase, Honour's hand resting on Jack's arm. Partway down, they both stopped. There was someone looking up at them from the bottom of the staircase that neither of them thought they would ever see.
"DUCKIE?"
"Jack? Honour?
And then Jack froze.
"Hello, Jack."
"ROSE?"

A look of astonishment crossed Rose's face. Her eyes met the woman's on Jack's arm and a look of recognition registered on her face.

"Lady Castlemaine!"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack and Honour looked at each other in surprise.
"You know her?" they asked simultaneously.
"An... old acquaintance, from years ago," Jack said, regarding Rose coldly.  "When I was still at university.  How do you know her?  She got your name wrong."
"Like you said, and old acquaintance.  A friend of my father's.  Poor thing, she's must be in her cups already if she's forgotten my name," replied Honour quickly. 
Her mind was racing.  Why that vindictive shrew Rose Carlisle, of all people?  Everyone knew what a chatty gossip the Countess was, especially once she had started drinking.  The fact she knew Jack made things even worse.  The haughty older woman had looked down her nose at Honour from the moment they met.  It had taken every bit of self control Honour had to trade polite nothings with Rose at official functions, chalking up the snide and condescending comments she endured to jealousy on the countess' part.  Why did Rose have to show up now, and why did she have to blurt that name?  Honour had to keep Jack away from her before she could say anything else.

The couple continued together down the stairs toward their friend and his inebriated companion.  All eyes were on them as they did.  Jack felt uncomfortable being the centre of attention.  Commanding the attention of a rowdy tavern crowd was one thing.  This felt more like being on display.  Honour was taking it all in stride with grace and charm.  This was a special night for the Welsh social elite.  And here was Jack Wolfe, pirate and smuggler, in attendance as a member of the esteemed Conaway family.  He smiled at the absurdity of this cosmic joke, and resolved then and there to enjoy every moment of rubbing elbows with the monied blue-bloods.  All right, so he was technically a former pirate, now a wealthy plantation owner.  That didn't detract from the sweetness of the situation.
"Are you all right, Jack?" Honour asked.  "You had a strange look on your face for a moment."
"No, darling," he smiled.  "Everything is fine.  And why wouldn't it be?  I have the most beautiful woman in all of Wales on my arm.  The most beautiful woman in all the world."
Why, Captain Wolfe!  You make me blush."
"I'll do more than that once this party is over, Mrs. Wolfe," he said with a wink.
"I'm counting on it," she giggled as they reached the foot of the stairs, and Honour gave her husband a smile that could only belong to a woman in love.
They crossed the marble tiled floor over to where the perplexed Duckie and a smirking Rose stood waiting.

"Ducks!" beamed Jack.  "Rose," he said, with far less enthusiasm before turning back to his friend.  "What an unexpected surprise!  I didn't expect to see you here!"
"That makes two of us, Jack!" laughed Duckie.  "Dear God, I barely recognised you!  I haven't seen you dressed like this, well... ever!  And Honour!  Look at you!  My dear, aren't you beautiful!"
Honour smiled and kissed his cheek.  "It's so good to see you, Duckie!  We didn't expect to see you until the ship was back in port."
"Yes, well, it would seem Fate had different plans for us all," he chuckled.
"'Honour'," interrupted Rose.  "Have you quit going by Rhiannon, Lady Cas--"
Honour cut her off fast.  "Mrs. WOLFE will suffice, Rose.  Mrs. Rhiannon Wolfe.  'Honour' is a nickname I picked up in my travels."
Jack had no idea what had transpired between Honour and Rose to cause such palpable tension between them, but he did not care for his wife being spoken to in such a patronising manner.  He'd heard that particular tone in Rose's voice too often.
"Hello, Rose," he said as cordially as his temper would allow.  "Seeing you here is an unexpected surprise as well.  Who here are you the guest of this evening?"
Rose's mouth popped open in a look of complete indignation.  "Why, I'll have you know..."
"I'm Rose's guest, Jack," said Duckie before his sister could make a scene.  Still scowling, she took a large sip of her drink.  "Rose was married to the late Lord Edwin Carlisle, Earl of Shrewsbury."
"Your sister is a Countess?" asked Jack.  "Well, you managed to follow your ambitions, Rose.  Congratulations."
"Rose is your sister?" Honour asked incredulously.
"Yes, Jack, I am the Countess of Shrewsbury, Lady Rose Carlisle," Rose answered hotly.  "And yes, Rhiannon, or whatever you call yourself now, I am Drake's sister.  But look at you!  You managed to get yourself a brand new husband.  I'd like to know how you managed that, but I have an idea.  Did Jack tell you he courted me once?"
"Let me think," said Honour, seeming to search her memory.  "No!  Not once.  Ever."
"I'll bet there's lot you haven't told him, either--"
"Rose!" said Duckie sharply.  "Would you please give me a moment with my friends?  I have some business to discuss with them.  I'll only be a few moments."
"Fine," Rose answered curtly.  With a defiant jut of her chin, she turned and unsteadily made her way across the room to the punchbowl.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Once the countess was out of hearing, Jack broke the trio's silence.
"What the hell was all that about?"
Duckie shook his head.  "I'm am so sorry.  Rose has once again overindulged.  A habit she was good at hiding when I last visited, but now... it seems to be the largest part of her life now."
"She hasn't changed a bit from the last time I saw her," said Honour.
"And she really has it in for you!" said Jack.  "I thought you said she was a friend of the family."
"Of my father.  Rose focuses on where the money is.  Otherwise, you're useless to her."  Honour looked at Duckie and felt her face colour.  "I'm sorry, Duckie.  I shouldn't have said that."
"No, no, you're quite right, Honour," Duckie said wearily.  "Rose has always been a social climber.  But she never understood that status is a vehicle, not a destination.  She got everything she ever wanted, and a few things she never expected.  Loneliness, for one."  He slowly shook his head.  "It's terrible to say, but I pity her.  I have to say, though, I thought she'd be happier to see you, Jack.  You've been a topic of conversation almost from the moment I arrived at her home, even more so the past couple of days.  It's almost as if she knew you'd be here."

"Me?  Why on earth would she be talking about me, after all these years?"
"I, well...  I made the mistake of mentioning that you've become something of a success in your field," began Duckie.
Jack's mouth fell open.  "Please tell me you didn't tell her..."
"Oh, no!  I told her you've done well for yourself as a ship's captain.  Nothing beyond that.  I also told her you are happily married, with a darling baby daughter."
"Forgive me, Ducks.  I know how well you keep confidences," said Jack.
"Quite all right, Jack.  I think we're all a bit off balance this evening.  But it's early yet!  I think we can still rally and enjoy the party," Duckie said.  "I'll tend to Rose, unless she's already trapped some poor bloke in conversation."
Strains of music could be heard starting in the great hall as the musicians took up their instruments.
"Ah, see?" smiled Duckie.  "Why don't you lovebirds run along enjoy the dance?"
Jack held out his arm.  "A dance, Mrs. Wolfe?"
"I thought you would never ask, Captain Wolfe," she said with a smile as she took his arm.
The couple started toward the great hall when Honour paused after a few steps.
"Just a moment, Jack.  I need to thank Duckie."
"All right, love."
Honour hurried back to their friend and kissed his cheek.
"Please keep Rose away from Jack, Duckie," she whispered.
Duckie could see the dread in her eyes.  "It's about what you told me on the ship, yes?"
She bit her lip and nodded.
"I will.  I promise," he said with a squeeze of her hands.
"Thank you."  Honour smiled, then hurried back to her husband's side.

The great hall was alive with light, music, people dancing, and people watching others dance.    Jack led Honour inside the circle of spectators, and bowed deeply before her with just a hint of a mock flourish, a muted version of the foppish bow he would tease her with on board ship.  She covered her mouth as she giggled, and returned his bow with an exaggerated curtsey.  Jack grinned as he took her into his arms, and they began the dance.
"So," Honour began, "you and the countess..."
"Yes, me and the countess."
"You actually courted her?"
"I did.  Though she wasn't a countess then, of course.  Just an aspiring social climber who had no time for an aspiring professor."
"I hope you never proposed to her."
Jack looked at her, and after a couple seconds, cocked an eyebrow.
"Oh, you did not!" she said, aghast.  "Seriously?  No!"
"What can I say?  I was young and foolish.  I made a lot of stupid mistakes."
"To hear Briggs tell it, you never stopped making those."
"Why should I stop?  I got very good at it."
Honour laughed merrily.  "All right, then.  What about me?"
"I would say you've made stupid mistakes, but there have been a couple that get right up there..."
She playfully slapped his chest.  "That's not what I was asking, and you know it!  I mean, what about me?  Was I a stupid mistake?"
Jack gazed lovingly into her eyes as the corners of his mouth drew softly into a smile.
"No, Honour.  You are by far the most brilliant mistake I've ever made," he said with a wink.  "And I shall love you forever."
She touched his cheek as they moved in time to the music.  "You'd better, mister.  Because I'll love you just as long, and more."
"Then we'd better pick out a really nice china pattern.  Forever is a very long time to eat off boring plates."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Honour began to relax as the evening went along without incident.  Duckie had kept his word, ensuring Rose was occupied and distracted.  It seemed that whenever the countess' eyes began to scan the room for Jack, her brother found some interesting looking person or couple he wanted to be introduced to, and proceeded to converse with them what she felt was an inordinate amount of time.  Damn him for being so charming and well read, she thought.  He never failed to find a topic to banter on engagingly, always sure that she was included in the discussion.  Rose had wanted nothing more than to talk to Jack alone for a few minutes and unmask that scheming girl who she was certain had tricked him into marriage.  But as the hour grew later and the cognac numbed her senses further, revealing the Conaway's dirty little secret seemed less and less important.

Meanwhile, Jack and Honour enjoyed themselves and the party.  They would take occasional breaks from dancing to chat with Megan and Daffyd.  Honour's oldest sister, Gwyneth, was there with her husband James Hamilton.  Her ever-feisty sister Dilys was in attendance as well with her husband, Angus McFarland.  Dilys' frank and witty comments kept everyone in stitches, as usual.
"Would you look at Mrs. Havershire?  Doesn't she look lovely?" she asked.  "All right, lovely for having crawled out of a three hour bath.  We should call her Prunella!"
"Oh, Dilys!" laughed Gwyneth.  "You're so wicked!"
"You've been talking to Angus again, haven't you?" quipped Dilys.
Megan and Daffyd made certain to introduce the Wolfes to the most important people at the ball, taking impish delight in how the guests listened with rapt attention to this rather mysterious but charming gentleman who, they were certain, was of the most impeccable breeding and social stature.  It wasn't the first time Jack had been in this situation, but this time it felt very different.  Now, he wasn't passing himself off as a member of legitimate society.  He really was now, or at least moving rapidly in that direction.  Husband, father, plantation and ship owner.  It was a life Jack found very appealing.

Standing off to the side, well out of the merry making, stood the stoic form of Lord Rhodri Conaway.  He watched Jack with analytical coldness.  Something was terribly wrong about this man, this surprise son-in-law, who was at once mannered and wild.   Jack Wolfe was a walking contradiction in his eyes, and Rhodri disliked contradictions.  Especially when the Conaway name was involved.  Between Jack's evasiveness and Rhiannon's wilfulness, he had his suspicions, but no evidence.  Perhaps one day he would get his answers.

After finishing a delightful conversation with a wealthy exporter of furniture and other durable goods to the New World, Jack was surprised to find Honour was leading him back to the dance floor.
"Why, Mrs. Wolfe!  I thought you were still resting after our last dance?"
"Not hardly, Mr. Wolfe!" she answered with a coquettish smile.  "I still have plenty of energy.  Dance with me."
Jack took his wife in his arms, perhaps holding her closer than politeness dictated, but they were married after all.  Together, they began to move across the dance floor.
"Plenty of energy, eh?" he smiled.  "I know a much better way to expend it than dancing."
"No, that's still dancing.  The way you prefer to dance.  But the night is still young."
"You do love to tempt me, don't you, my love?"
Honour felt herself blush.  "And why should you have all the fun?" she giggled.  "You're the handsomest man here, and more than one woman has had her eye on you this evening.  I intend to keep them all jealous."
"There have been a great many eyes on you, too," smiled Jack.  "I do enjoy being the envy of the men around me."
"They may envy you, but the information still comes pouring out.  It's incredible how easily you get people to tell you things."
Jack gave her a puzzled look.  "What on earth do you mean?"
Honour searched his eyes.  "You really don't know?  In that short space of time we talked to Mr. Griffith and his wife, he told you the nature of his business, how many ships he uses and from which ports they sail, the kinds of goods and typical size of each shipment,  how frequently they sail and where to."
"You're joking."
She shook her head, her golden tresses swaying as she did.  "Think about it.  Every bit of information a pirate would want to know.  What to strike, where, and when, and the kind of  cargo to expect."
"Why, my dear, you sound just like a villainous pirate!"
"I was taught by the very best of the best.  You honestly didn't realise that's how the conversation had turned?"
Jack thought about it, then laughed out loud in surprise.  "I guess I didn't!  That wasn't my intention, Honour.  What it terribly obvious?"
"Only to me," she replied tenderly.  "I know you're done with that life."
"Yes, I am.  And happily so."
"Old habits die hard?"
He gave her a sly smile and leaned in close as they continued to dance.  "Let me tell you about one old habit that will never die..."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

As Jack was about to whisper in Honour's ear, the sound of someone nervously clearing her throat interrupted the moment.  They turned to find Enydd, the girl who worked in the kitchen as a server, standing there looking anxious and uncomfortably out of place. She gave a clumsy curtsy.
"Beggin' your pardon, Mrs. Wolfe, but Nanny Grayson needs you right away," she said.
"Is something the matter with Zara?" asked Honour worriedly.
"Nanny Grayson says the wee one won't stop cryin', mum."
"Have Nanny Grayson give Zara her toy rabbit.  That always quiets her," instructed Jack.
"That's the problem, sir," said Enydd.  "She can't find the babe's rabbit nowhere."
"Oh, she's tossed it out of her crib again," said Honour.  "I know where it usually lands.  Please tell Nanny Grayson I'll be up in a moment, would you?"
Enydd gave another clumsy curtsy.  "Yes, mum," said the girl, and she hurried away.
Honour looked around the room quickly, and was relieved to see no sign of Rose.  "I'll only be a couple of minutes, I promise," she assured Jack.  "Why don't you get us something to drink?  All the dancing has made me thirsty."
Jack smiled and stroked her cheek.  "All right, love.  I can bear to have you away for that long, if it's our daughter taking you from me."
Honour smiled and kissed him quickly.  "I promise!  Oh, and could you find brandy or something?  The punch is terribly sweet.  Even rum would do."
"For you, anything," he smiled back.  "I know just where to look."

Jack watched as Honour hurried to the stairs and started up to their daughter's room.  He never tired of looking at Honour or having her near.  Every day, he found himself giving thanks that they had been given a second chance together to make build a happy life, and he was determined to get it right this time.  And Zara!  What a blessing that little angel was.  For all his years of avoiding commitments, much less fatherhood, Jack couldn't imagine returning to what he now knew was a hollow, empty existence.  Finally, he could say he had found happiness and contentment.

Jack made his way through the revellers, trading nods and smiles and the occasional brief pleasantry as he went.  It really wasn't that much different than a busy port tavern, except this time he didn't have to keep a watchful eye for a drawn knife or pistol, even though he found himself checking for them.  Honour was right, old habits die hard.  Finally he reached the hallway and followed it to Daffyd's study.  A low fire had been left in the fireplace to keep the chill off.  Jack took a slender stick of kindling and held one end of it in the coals until it caught flame.  Using the improvised match, he lit one of the lamps, and tossed the stick into the fireplace where it popped and crackled.  Light from the lamp played dimly on the walls, providing just enough illumination for him to find the bottles of liquor Daffyd kept on one shelf of an enormous bookcase.  Jack reached for the cut crystal decanter he knew contained a most excellent brandy, when a smaller amber bottle caught his eye.  It was squat and onion-shaped.  A knowing smile spread across his lips as he picked it up and removed the cork.  One sniff confirmed it: West Indies rum.  With a practised eye, he held the bottle up to the light.  Just enough for two healthy glasses, he judged.
"Bad luck to empty a man's bottle when he's not there to enjoy it," he said aloud.  But Jack knew just how to counteract it.  He had plenty of fine Barbados rum to replace it with once El Lobo was back in port.  He filled two glasses with the dark liquid, then turned to put out the lamp and return to the party and his beloved.
"Hello, Jack."

"Rose!" he said, surprised.  "I didn't hear you come in.  I was just headed back to the party."
"I don't suppose one of those is for me?"
"Hardly."
"Oh, don't be so cold, Jack.  You were fond of me at one time.  Remember?"
"And you made it clear what a waste of time that was," he said impatiently.  "Look, I have no interest in rehashing dead history with you.  You'll excuse me.  I need to find my wife."
Rose gave him an oily smile.  "It's her history I want to rehash with you."
"It's obvious you don't like her, Rose.  Why, I don't particularly care.  But I won't sit by and listen to slander."
Rose took a couple more wobbly steps into the room, and leaned against the desk more for support than effect.  "The truth isn't slander."
"You're drunk."
"Maybe I am.  That doesn't change the value of what I know.  What you need to know about your sweet, young bride."
Jack rolled his eyes in disdain.  "I know everything there is to know about Rhiannon.  We keep no secrets. Now, good night," he said as he walked past her toward the door.
"Everything?" Rose asked loudly.  "Even about her poor, dead, murdered husband?"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

He froze at the doorway and turned back to her with an incredulous look on his face.
"WHAT??"
"Oh, she didn't tell you that bit?  I thought you knew everything about the former Lady Castlemaine.  For your sake, I certainly hope you sleep with your back to the wall."
Seething, Jack set the glasses down on the desk as carefully as he could and stood glaring at Rose.  "Rose, I'm being calm, very calm about all this, in spite of your ridiculous claims!  How dare you?"
"Dare?  Dare to tell the truth and help an old friend?" she said with an innocent shrug.  "Jack, really.  I only have your best interest at heart.  I'd hate for you to end up like poor, dear Madoc.  At least he was able to kill his attacker.  Her lover."
Jack shook his head in disbelief.  "This is beyond the pale, even for you."
"You want to know my theory?" she pressed on.  "I think she put her lover up to it.  Kill her husband, and they both run off with his fortune.  Madoc Castlemaine was an expert with a sword.  Everyone knew it.  Except for her accomplice, that is.  To his credit, the scoundrel was able to strike Madoc down.  Not before Madoc ran him through, though."
"Rose, that's enough!  Rhiannon would never be part of such a scheme!"
"Then Rhiannon took all the jewels and money in the house, and was never seen again.  Until now, that is.  Don't take my word for it, Jack.  Everyone knows.  Just ask.  Frankly, I'm shocked she dared to show her face.  Poor Madoc.  He never deserved what she did to him."
Jack's mind reeled.  He knew that name.  Madoc.  Honour would practically scream it in her nightmares, night after night.  'No, Madoc!  Please, don't!  NO!!'  It physically sickened him to consider what Rose was telling him, but how could he ignore the words out of Honour's own mouth?
"When?" he asked, barely above a whisper.
"I'm sorry?"
"WHEN?"
"Oh, let me see," pondered Rose, clearly enjoying the turn of events.  "A little over two years ago, I believe."
"Two years..." he echoed hollowly.  The timeline matched.  She would have been in the Caribbean about six months before they met.  Six months after the murder of her husband, and she willing to remarry on a whim?  And that name!  Castlemaine.  Why was it so familiar?  Suddenly, the pieces came together in his mind.  Rhiannon Conaway Castlemaine.  R.C. Castlemaine!  It wasn't some mysterious party that had purchased the plantation in Barbados.  It had been Honour herself!  The realisation felt like a knife through Jack's heart.  More secrets.  More deception.  How could she have kept this from him?

He was startled by the touch of a hand on his arm.  It was Rose, attempting to comfort him.  She wore a doe-eyed look of sympathy that would have been laughable under any other circumstances.
"Oh, Jack.  My poor, sweet Jack.  I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you the truth about her.  This must be terrible for you.  Here," she said, offering one of the glasses, "Have some of this to settle your nerves."
"Dear God, Rose.  What have you done?" came a voice from the doorway.

Duckie stood at the entrance to the room, with a look of anger and shame on his face.  Anger at his sister for her twisted games, and shame for failing his friends.
Rose looked at her brother in exasperation.  "Drake, how rude of you!  We're having an important conversation.  I'm sure whatever it is will wait."
"No," Jack said quietly, "I've heard all I need to."  He turned on his heel to leave, but Duckie stopped him.
"Jack, wait.  You're not... You only have half the story.  The wrong half.  Please, don't believe what Rose has told you," he implored.
"How do you know what she...?"  Jack's eyes went flinty.  "You knew."
Duckie nodded regretfully.  "Honour told me.  After you were shot."
"The whole world knew about this, except for me?!" Jack asked hotly.  But he stopped and stared when he looked over at Rose.
She was laughing.
"'Honour'," she snickered.  "There's a joke of a name!  I have to give it to her, though, she's an exceptional liar!"
Jack gritted his teeth in anger and humiliation, and stalked from the room.
"Jack, she had no choice!" Duckie called after his friend.  Finally, he turned back to glare at his sister.  "You had no right to tell him."
Rose rolled her eyes.  "Obviously somebody had to tell him.  His closest friends couldn't be bothered."
"Damn you, Rose," was the only reply Duckie could muster.
She walked past her brother, casually sipping her rum.  "Too late," she answered as she strolled from the room.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"Aha!  There it is!" said Honour triumphantly as she produced the toy rabbit from its hiding place.  Zara had managed to fling the little bunny farther than ever before, and it had landed between a trunk and the wall.  "Our little girl is getting so strong!  Here you are, sweetheart.  Safe and sound."
She gave the toy back to Zara, and the little girl's cries faded almost immediately into happier coos as she pulled its ears and squeezed its nose.
"She'll be a strong one," said Nanny Greyson.  "Just like her mother."
Honour smiled at the woman who had done more  to raise her than her father ever had, then looked back at her own daughter.  Zara's eyes were growing heavier by the second.
"And probably just as strong willed, I'll be bound," the nanny continued with a teasing note in her voice.  "She's a beautiful little girl, Rhiannon.  Your mother would have been proud to have such a grandchild."
"I'd like to think she would be," said Honour softly.  It was times like this she wished most that her mother was still alive, to ask advice and share in the joy.  "Oh!  What am I doing?  Jack will be wondering where I am by now.  I told him I'd only be a few minutes."
Nanny Grayson gently patted Honour's hand.  "She'll be fine now, Rhiannon.  And so will your husband.  Sometimes you need to keep the men waiting.  Keeps them on their toes.   Now, back to the party with you!"
Honour hugged the older woman, and stopped at the mirror to adjust her hair and smooth her dress out after crawling about on the floor.  Satisfied she was presentable for the party, she quietly closed the door to Zara's room and hurried to the stairs.  When she reached the top of the staircase, she could see Jack just starting up.  She quickly made her way down to meet him.
"Jack!" Honour called.  "Here I am!  Everything is fine now.  I'm sorry it took so long." 
She met him at the midpoint of the stairs, and immediately noticed his cravat was askew.
"Here, let me fix this for you." She went about straightening it out as she continued telling him about Zara.  "You wouldn't believe it!  Zara found a new place to throw the rabbit.  Nanny Grayson agrees she's going to be a strong little girl... Jack, what... what's wrong?  Why are you looking at me that way?"
Jack's brow was furrowed like a storm cloud, his eyes cold and accusing.  She'd seen that look before.  In Barbados.  Slowly and deliberately, he took her hands and removed them from his necktie.
"The party is over, Lady Castlemaine," he said icily. 
He brushed past her and continued up the stairs to their room.  A stunned Honour watched his back as he climbed the steps, then disappeared around the corner.  A few seconds later, she heard the door close solidly.  Not slammed, but near enough.  Bewildered, Honour began to look around the grand foyer, as if someone had the answers she needed.  All she saw were the faces of the curious, politely averting their gaze while still taking in the spectacle.  All except one, however.

Rose Carlisle stood at the entrance to the foyer, drink in hand.  Smiling like an assassin.

She could feel her blood run suddenly ice cold.  Rose had told him.  The gossip-laden, lie-encrusted version of the events, but now he knew.  Honour swallowed hard, fighting the back the tears that threatened to flow, and with legs that felt like lead she climbed the stairs again.  As she did, she prayed that she could find the words that would make her husband understand.  And forgive.

As Honour rounded the corner to the hall that led to their room, she nearly ran into Nanny Grayson.  The older woman's eyes were full of worry.
"Mister Wolfe asked me to leave the room.  He seemed in a dark, terrible mood.  Is something the matter, Rhiannon?"
Honour looked the governess in the eyes and nodded her head slowly.  "Yes.  Everything.  And it's my fault.  I don't know how I'll ever make it right."
Nanny Grayson touched Honour's cheek and gave her a look of sympathy.
"God will show you how, little one.  Listen, and He will."
Honour blinked back tears, took a ragged breath, and went to the door.  To her surprise, it wasn't locked.  She took heart in that Jack hadn't completely shut her out.  Not yet, anyway.  She turned the knob the rest of the way and opened the door.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack's coat was flung on the bed, with his cravat on the floor beside it.  Jack himself was leaning against the open door to Zara's room, looking at their daughter's crib.  Honour closed the bedroom door quietly and stood there watching him, desperately trying to find her voice.  The fear that all her lies, all her mistakes, all her bad decisions, had finally ruined everything gripped her heart.
"Jack, I'm sorry.  I'm so very sorry," she began haltingly.  But suddenly, the words came tumbling forth, and her tears with them.  "I wanted to tell you, God knows I did.  So many times, the words were right there, but I was too afraid!"
Without turning toward her, Jack shut the door to Zara's room.  "I can't even bear to look at you right now," he said heavily.
"I can explain, I swear!  Just give me a chance..."
"Explain??  I'm sure you can, now that you have no choice."  He turned and looked at her after all.  The anger she expected was there, yes, but joined with hurt, confusion, and worst of all, distrust.  "I don't want to believe Rose, Honour.  I want to write her off as a drunk, spiteful woman.  But...  I can't ignore the things you've said and done.  Like the plantation?  All this time I thought it was bought out from under us by the mysterious R.C. Castlemaine.  Rhiannon Conaway Castlemaine.  You bought it, and never told me the truth!  Were you too afraid to tell me that, too?"
"Yes."
"You could have told me.  I would have understood.  That night on the ship, when we reconciled, you agreed we needed complete truth between us.  Yet, here's more surprises.  More secrets.  Honour, I can't go on like this."
Honour gasped.  "No, you're not leaving.  Please say you're not!"
"Then help me understand!  Rose says you're the reason this Madoc was killed.  Hell, she believes you arranged it!  Between her story and your own words, I don't know who to believe."
"My... my words?"
"Your nightmares, remember?  Crying out Madoc's name, begging him not to do something-- it was when he died, isn't it?  It wasn't a nightmare at all, it was a memory!"
"Jack, Madoc was such a horrible, cruel man who loved his power and money more than anything else.  I hated him, I wanted to get away from him, but I never wanted it to happen the way it did!"
"Didn't you know the man's disposition before you married him?  Or did you do it for the money?"
"No! It wasn't like that at all!  My father forced me into marrying Madoc.  I didn't want to.  I hated him from the moment I laid eyes on him.  But I had no choice."
Jack shook his head.  "I don't understand.  You're a beautiful woman!  I can't believe there weren't any prospective suitors."
She swallowed hard, and let out a shaking sigh.  "There was.  And we loved each other.  But he had to go away.  I waited for him, but something happened and he didn't come back.  Not until it was too late."
"If he loved you so much, why did he leave?"
"On business.  He was a... a man of the sea.  Besides, my father never would have approved of him."
"I'm beginning to see a pattern."
"Please, Jack, don't joke.  Not now."
"Then what happened?"
Honour sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes downcast.  She picked up his cravat and began wringing it nervously.  "He came back, and found out I was married to that monster.  I had thought he was dead, or worse, found someone else.  But he vowed he would take me away from Madoc.  No matter what, he would rescue me from that awful existence.  When he tried, it all went wrong.  And he and Madoc died.  So I ran."

Jack shook his head as he tried to grasp her explanation.  "You fell in love with a man your father disapproved of, he left and didn't return as promised, you were forced into marriage with a wealthy old fossil, your love returned and tried to take you away.  And died in the process.  Am I following so far?"
"Yes."
"I've heard this story before.  Most of it, anyway."
"Jack, I swear, I'm not making this up!  I couldn't!"
"No.  I know you couldn't.  But I have heard part of this before.  From a young man."
Honour's eyes grew wide.  "You... you did?"
"Tell me his name, Honour," Jack demanded.
"Jack, please..."
"Tell me!  Because I already know it."
"Please, don't make me..."
"Rhys Morgan!  My God, it was Rhys!  You're the Rhiannon he talked about endlessly.  He told me his plan to spirit you off.  And that's the last I ever saw of him.  Months later I learned he was dead, just as I'd warned him.  All because of you."
"No, Jack!  Please, you're not being fair!" Honour sobbed.
"I can't.  I can't do this.  It's all too much..." Jack's voice trailed off as he struggled to make sense of the night's revelations.  Without another word, he took a pillow and blanket from the bed and walked toward the door.
"Where are you going?" cried Honour.
"Somewhere else.  To think, to sleep.  I can't do that here.  Not with you."
"Please, Jack, stay!  I love you!"
He opened the door and turned back to his sobbing wife.  "I love you, too, Honour.  So very, very much.  That's the problem."  With a saddened look, he closed the door and left Honour to her own bitter tears.

[Welsh Wench]

The door to Daffyd's den opened slowly. The light from a single candle cast shadows on the wall.
"Jack? Are you asleep?"
He turned from facing the wall, his pillow punched up and his blankets a tumble. He had been curled up on the overstuffed chair. His shirt was hanging out and wrinkled. Boots were kicked across the room.
"Megan. I'm sorry. I dozed off."
"No, you weren't. You are brooding. And you are sleeping here purposely."
He didn't say anything.
"I talked to Rhiannon."
Jack stared straight ahead. Megan sighed and put her candle down.
"I can see this is going to be a long night."
"Then perhaps you should get to bed, Megan. You had one hell of a party."
"I'm too keyed up to go to bed. Daffyd fetched me when he saw what was going on but I couldn't break away. I had to wait till the last guest left."
"I understand. After all, you and Daffyd were the hosts. You can't keep dropping your life every time Rhiannon has a crisis in her life."
Well, I just came down from seeing Rhiannon."
Jack said nothing.
"Rhiannon is a wreck. I gave her some laudanum and sat with her till she fell asleep."
"Megan, you must be exhausted. Go to bed."
She shook her head. "I think you and I need a serious chat. You aren't planning on walking out on her, are you?"
Jack reached for a bottle of brandy and poured himself a drink. "I'll pay Daffyd back double in spirits I have on the El Lobo."
"That isn't a problem. But I think you need to listen to the story."
"I know enough. I can fill in the blanks. She was the woman to blame. My best friend was killed and she is the reason."

Megan poured herself a drink. "I am trying very hard to keep my temper, Mr. Jack Wolfe. Do you have any idea what Rhys Morgan did to my sister? To her life? What her life ended up? Or where she even started?"
"I know that her mother slipped and hit her head on a rock and drowned and she was raised in a convent."
Megan took a healthy sip of her brandy. "This always calms me down. And I need it.  Because if I don't, I just may punch you in the face, Jack Wolfe!"
"ME? What did I do?"
"That little sister of mine has been to hell and back in her life. Our father shipped her off as soon as he was able to. Never showed her an ounce of love after our mother died. He blamed her and couldn't get past that. Good Lord, Jack! You met him. Have you ever seen a more unfeeling man in your life?"
Jack started, "Well, not really but--"
"So Rhiannon is shipped off to a convent where the Mother Superior used to beat her. BEAT her, Jack! And why? Because she and Muir used to love to go to the docks and watch the ships. Rhiannon put up with them because to her, the few hours she had to escape that convent were worth the beatings. She lacked for love all her life. And when she found it, the man was Rhys Morgan."

"But how did she meet him if she was in a convent?"
She poured another glass of brandy for Jack and one for herself.
"This seems to calm me. Rhys was on the bluffs to sketch when Rhiannon was up there writing poetry."
"I never knew that she---"
"Wrote poetry? She stopped writing. She stopped when Rhys was killed. She had met Rhys when she was ten years old and he was twenty. She rowed out on a skiff to look at a ship--which happened to be the Neptune Rising. It capsized and Rhys fished her and Muir out of the sea.  They met again six years later. Only this time, Rhiannon was on the verge of womanhood. Rhys pushed her over the edge. If you get my meaning."

Jack grimaced. "So, my friend Rhys was my wife's first lover. Somehow this isn't making me feel any better, Megan."
"Do you want to hear the story or don't you? Because I am giving it to you without the emotional factors you would get from Rhiannon. You are getting the plain facts."
He drank his brandy quickly.
"I have no choice, do I?"
She smiled wryly. "Not when you are sleeping in my husband's study."
"Then you have a captive audience."
"Alright then. Be quiet. Rhys had planned on quitting the life of a privateer and coming back to respectfully ask for Rhiannon's hand. If he couldn't have it, then they were going to run off to the Caribbean. A captain by the name of Fox was going to help Rhys."
"Wolfe."
Jack broke out in derisive laughter. "Fox was Wolfe. I was the man to help Rhys and his darling if things went awry."
Megan poured herself another drink. "Lord, I need this now! This has all the makings of a Greek tragedy. Rhiannon said he had to go back and sell his share of a venture to his friend. But when Rhys got there, his friend needed help. He had been taken captive by some Spanish monster and the quartermaster, whose heart was in the right place but wasn't much of a tactician, was hell-bent on rescuing his captain. Rhys knew that if he didn't help, not only would his friend be dead but also the quartermaster. So, honour bound, he had to put his plans with Rhiannon aside to save his friend. He thought Rhiannon would wait and she would understand once he got back."
"So why didn't she wait?"
"She was found out by a novitiate who told a priest who told the Mother Superior. She used that as a reason to humiliate Rhiannon and send her packing in disgrace."
"And you wonder why I have no use for the Church?"
"Rhiannon came back home. Try to put yourself in her mindset, Jack. To her, the man she loved with her heart and soul deserted her. Add my father chiding her on it and then he got the name of the man. The man who incidentally used the Conaway caves for storing his ill-gotten gains. He ended up giving her an ultimatum. Marriage to Lord Madoc Castlemaine in exchange for Rhys Morgan--if he was still alive--in exchange for his life."
"She loved Rhys that much?"
"She loved him that much."

"Alright, so she married. She moved on with her life."
"Not exactly."
"What do you mean?"
"When she agreed to marry Madoc, Dilys went wild. She chewed Father up and down and poor Gwyneth was trying to convince Rhiannon she was doing the right thing. To make her feel better. I had all I could do to keep Rhiannon from going out of her mind."
"He must have loved her though."
"Oh, Jack, wake up to reason! Lord Madoc Castlemaine was in the market for a fresh young bride. And the land between the two estates. Father struck a devil's bargain. With the devil himself. Madoc was thirty years older than Rhiannon. She was only seventeen. And she was mourning the love of her life."

Jack was uncomfortable hearing Rhys referred as that. He knew there were other men in his wife's life before they met but they had always been nameless and faceless.
"So, what made Madoc Castlemaine so bad? Did he have a wart on his face and a hook nose? Did he drool? Was he gluttonous?"
Megan shook her head. "If you must know, Madoc Castlemaine was a handsome man. But he had a streak of cruelty. As soon as Madoc married her, he shut her up behind those cold, stone grey walls and whenever Dilys or Gwyneth tried to see her, some excuse was given. 'She is indisposed,' was the most common one. Even I was never allowed near her."
"Couldn't you insist?"
"Jack, we may be Welsh but we do have a code of social understanding. You don't burst in unannounced on a couple who are newly married. Now to get back to the story--Madoc shut her away from us. Cut her off from the family. We found out later that Madoc was to be given the meadowland when Rhiannon produced an heir. And when she did, she would receive an allowance of one hundred pounds a year."
"I'm almost afraid to ask with all the revelations here tonight...but did Rhiannon ever give him a child?"
"JACK!"
"Megan, I don't know what to think anymore. Does Rhiannon have any children hidden away? I don't want one showing up on the doorstep and claim to be looking for their mother."
"No, Jack, I can assure you this--Zara is her first and only child. Can you make the same claim? Do you have any chance of a young man or woman coming to call, wanting to meet Daddy?"
"Not that I know of."
"Alright then. Back to what happened. Rhys and Rhiannon had made arrangements for Rhys to get word to her friend Athena to let her know when Rhys was back. Rhiannon would be ready to go that night. Can you imagine her anguish when she had her bags packed since December and waited day after day, night after night for a man who didn't come back? She gave him a two month leeway. When he didn't show, that was when her world fell apart."
"But I am sure Madoc must have loved her. Who wouldn't?"

Megan snorted in derision. "Jack, Madoc Castlemaine was a possessor. He surrounded himself with opulent furniture, the finest velvets and silks, brocades, Scottish wool. His estate was vast and his horses were the best this side of England. Rhiannon was one more possession. But he lacked something. It was what Rhiannon needed most."
Jack nodded slowly, "She needed love."
"Damn right she needed love! Jack, excuse me. I don't swear often. But whenever I think about it, it makes my blood boil. Madoc Castlemaine was the counterpart of Mother Superior."
"He used to beat her?"
"Not per se. But he was controlling and cruel. He used mental manipulations. Don't forget that we are dealing with a heartbroken seventeen year old who only wanted to be loved."
"And have a happy ever after."

Megan began to feel her eyes fill with tears as she remembered it all.
"I saw Rhiannon once. Just once! And when I did, she had lost weight. Her eyes were lackluster. And there were bruises on her arms. But the cruelest thing he did...he wouldn't let her keep Muir."
"Oh God."
"Muir had to live in the barn. She used to slip out whenever she could and see him. That hurt her most of all."
"So...how does this all get to where she ends up with a dead husband?"
"Patience, grasshopper. I am getting to that."
Jack felt a slight smile as he had heard Megan use that phrase with her children.

"Madoc had Rhiannon's portrait painted. He wanted her to wear a dress that belonged to his first wife. But a bit of the old Rhiannon surfaced. She wore a deep purple dress laced tight to show her assets. She managed to bring a defiance back to her face long enough for the artist to capture it. And Madoc beat her for it."
Jack felt his hands clench. "I thought he never really laid a hand on her?"
"He did that night. Madoc arranged a ball to unveil it. Only it wasn't the demure subservient wife. It was a young woman who wore a questionable dress and a look of rebellion on her face."
"So how did she meet Rhys again?"
"Now what did I say about patience?"
"Alright. I am listening."
"Rhys Morgan not only stored his booty on Conaway land but also in Lord Castlemaine's caves. But for a price."
"WHAT?"
"Yes. Madoc had a few skeletons in his own closet. Rhys Morgan was at that ball. He and Rhiannon were reunited. They began meeting in secret. And they had made arrangements to run off together. Madoc was supposed to be in London sitting on the House of Lords. But it was all a ruse."
"He knew?"
"He suspected. Rhys and Rhiannon had spent a week in Cardiff and then Rhys sailed away once more to meet with his friend. This time it was nearby. Otherwise Rhiannon wouldn't have let him go. If only they had left a half hour earlier! Madoc caught them and ran Rhys through."
"And he killed Madoc?"
Megan shook her head no.
Jack raised his eyes towards the stairs."You mean...?"
Megan said quietly, "Rhiannon killed her husband."