PRELUDE TO EL LOBO DEL MAR

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

The crew assembled on the main deck at the end of the forenoon watch as was their tradition on the first day in port.  That was when the captain would address the men a timetable for their say and any relevant news.  The usual boisterous mood of the crew was replaced by an unsettling quiet on this occasion, however.  Rumours of Jack's intent to turn the ship toward Wales and the Continent had somehow found its way through the ranks.  Most of the men were indifferent. Some were actually relieved, as the voyage would put comfortable distance between themselves and a noose on some island. And then there was the very vocal minority who were resentful. Theses were men who had fled from justice in the Commonwealth to continue their lawless existence in the Caribbean. Jack Wolfe's El Lobo was the gravy train upon which they had ridden. Now they were at the end of the line.

Jack wasn't the only one they were upset with. Fortunately, she was already off the ship.

Briggs was there was well, seated at a small desk to one side of the gangway. On the desk were a quill and ship's roster. A closed chest sat on the deck beside him. The quartermaster's typically somber expression was on this day downright dour.

Jack paused as he stepped onto the deck. All conversation came to an abrupt halt as the crew turned their attention to him. It took only moments for Jack to gage their mood. He knew he was turning their lives upside down, but whatever sympathy he felt wasn't about to sway his decision. He squared his shoulders and walked over to where his trusted friend sat. The murmur of the assembly began again, though more subdued.

"Morning, Josiah."
"Mornin', Jack."
No warmth, no daily complaints. Nothing to give Jack an idea of what the gruff man had decided. Briggs could be maddeningly tight-lipped when he got the notion to be. This was one of those times.
"I see you have things ready to pay off anyone who chooses not to stay," Jack continued, his voice hushed.
"Aye," answered Briggs with a sigh. "I'm hopin' it's enough to cover 'em all."
So was Jack. "It won't be as bad as all that, Josiah," he said, as much to convince himself as it was meant for Briggs.
Briggs gave a skeptical grunt. "You're the cap'n. You got a good speech, I hope? One mutiny is enough for my tastes."

"I'm feeling inspired today," smiled Jack. When in doubt, fake confidence. He turned to make his way to the quarterdeck when he spotted a tense Eli standing on the fringes.
"Ah! Mister Meredith! A word with you!"
Eli pulled the tattered woolen cap off his head and wrung it in his hands as he approached Jack. He knew he was walking a fine line with his captain after the mutiny, and he feared the worst in being singled out.
"Aye, cap'n?" he asked quietly.
Jack smiled in hopes of putting the young man at ease. "Meredith... I mean, Eli, I have a job for you, if you're up to it."
The sailor perked up. "Aye, sir! Name it!"
"Since I can count on you being one to stay on," said Jack, "I want you to assist Master Briggs in taking care of the men who decide to part company. You think you're up to it, lad?"
A broad smile broke out on Eli's face. "Yessir! You can count on me!"
"Now wait one damned minute," protested Briggs. "Ye can't be serious! This mutinous pup..."
"This young man helped foil the mutiny, if you'll remember," countered Jack. "If it weren't for him, Honour might well be dead. That more than warrants a second chance in my book."
Briggs gave Jack a long, unhappy look, then sat back in his chair. "Meredith! Get yer skinny arse over here. Lemme tell ye how this works."
Eli gave Jack an expectant look, and scurried off when Jack nodded his head in Briggs' direction.

The men had left an avenue along the gunwale for Jack to approach the quarterdeck. He felt incredibly uncomfortable knowing that all eyes were upon him. For every ounce of pride he felt for being a ship's master and commander, he felt an equal amount of stage fright. Honour had made certain he was dressed the part of pirate captain. He sported his nicest frock coat, and two of his finest pistols were shoved into his belt, including the one he had personally taken off Diego Mendoza. "Dress to impress, in all things," she had advised. Jack took heart in her words of encouragement as he stepped to the taffrail.

"Gentlemen! And I use the term ever so loosely."
The usual titter of laughter rippled through the men.
"No doubt word of my intentions has reached your ears..." he began.
"Gone soft, ye have! All for the love of a doxy!" a man cried.
Jack felt his blood begin to boil, but he kept his head. "You know, mate, ordinarily I'd be upset by your claptrap. But since you've gone out of your way to show everyone what an ignorant git you really are, I'll forego humiliating you further."
A derisive laugh worked its way through the men.
"As I was saying," continued Jack, "what you've heard is indeed true. Effective immediately, this ship is retired from the Account. El Lobo Del Mar is now a peaceful vessel. Come Monday, we will be headed for Wales."
He paused to let the news sink in.
"Those of you who wish to stay on shall be ensured a fair salary. Those who wish to seek their own fortunes may see Master Briggs. You'll receive a fair recompense, and your name will be stricken from the roster."
A dissenting cry swelled within the crew. The vocal minority were going to have their say. But before they could gain a unified voice, a shot rang out behind the throng.

Eli Meredith stood with his smoking pistol held above his head.
"Listen to what the cap'n has to say! It's a fair offer!" he exclaimed, though his voice betrayed a waver of fear. "Those what protest, take your money! Good riddance to ye! The rest, we're going to Wales!"
The men looked at the scrawny man for a few moments, then turned their attention back to Jack.
"Thank you, Mister Meredith," said Jack, with a bemused smile. The young man was proving to be full of surprises. "Now that I have your attention once again, the usual rules apply. You're to be aboard and ready to sail Monday morning. No exceptions. If you land in gaol or get yourself killed, or simply oversleep in the tavern or some strumpet's arms, know that it has been a pleasure working with you. Your effects will be auctioned before the mast. Now, go enjoy yourselves. Those wanting to part company, Mister Briggs will see to you now."

He watched as the majority of men shuffled off the ship and down the docks into town. Several stayed behind to take their money and leave the crew.

"Make your mark here beside your name," said Briggs, and he took a sack coins from Eli and handed it to each man in turn. "Ye can take your effects with ye now, or collect them off the dock Monday morn. Matters not a whit to me," he explained to them.
"An' what about you, Briggs? You can't be no happier with this than the rest of us," asked the last crewman to take his money.
Briggs gave Eli a sidelong glance, then looked back to the man. "That's between me and the cap'n. Same as always."
The man shrugged and hefted the sack of coins. He intentionally jostled Eli with his shoulder on his way to gangplank. Eli got a fighting look on his face, which quickly faded when he heard Briggs laugh.
"Easy there, tough man! That bloke would have ye for breakfast and still be in want of a meal."

Jack walked up the the desk and examined the roster.
"Sixteen men in all. Better than I expected." He read over the list, and gave his friend a puzzled look. "I don't see your name crossed off. Does that mean you're staying, or still thinking?"
Briggs leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "And trust ye to get this ship all the way to Wales on your own? Ye'll be too busy thinkin' about that little girl of your'n to keep a steady course! And I can't exactly see myself deprivin' the wee angel of knowin' her Uncle Josiah."
Jack smiled with satisfaction. "I'm glad you're staying, Josiah. El Lobo wouldn't be the same without you."
"Nay, this ship would still be the same. You'd be more out of control, if that be possible. Somebody has to ride herd on ye. I've got the most experience." He looked at the roster again and sighed. "At least it wasn't as bad as what I'd planned for..."
"But Master Briggs," interrupted Eli, "you only had eighteen bags in the chest."
"Have ye ever been told ye've got a big mouth, boy?" grumbled Briggs as he avoided looking at the smirk on Jack's face. "Still, that's sixteen warm bodies I need to find before Monday. Not gonna be easy in this backwater port."
"A monumental task, I'm sure," teased Jack. "But one you're no doubt equal to, my friend."
Briggs gave a faint smile and nodded before turning his attention to Eli. "Well, what are ye standin' about lollygaggin' for? Stow that chest! We've got recruitin' to do."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Honour arrived back at the docks with her packages and Eli's sword just before three o'clock as she'd promised Jack. A small group of men were gathered at the entrance of the dock where El Lobo was berthed. From the looks of them, they were unhappy and drunk. It wasn't the first time she'd had to make her way past drunken sailors. She considered them to be like snakes. If you ignore them, usually they will do the same to you. As she drew closer, she could overhear their conversation.

"Damn that Wolfe, anyways! We had us a good thing goin', too."
"Yeah, until that woman showed up again!"
"Nothin' but trouble, she is! Turned him all 'round. Made him soft!"
"Soft in the head is more like it! I'm thinkin' Burgess was right. Shame what happened to him. We coulda had a bit of fun with that tart, too, once Wolfe was outta the way!"
"Oi! Speakin' of the little minx, there she be!"

Honour's face flushed red when she heard the men talk. She was angry that they would insult her husband's name so, and sickened by their insinuations. It took all her strength to keep from confronting them. But she bit her lip and pulled her packages close as she hurried past. The fact that she carried the sword made it easier to ignore their laughter and the lewd kissing sounds one of them made once she was by them. She gave thanks as she walked with determination toward the safety of the ship that those horrid men were no longer part of the crew. What they thought didn't matter. She and her husband were going to retrieve their precious little girl.

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

"Jack, I just don't know what to make out of all this."
She sat on the bed, her dressing gown wrapped around her, a satin ribbon tying her hair back.
Jack looked at her, his mind still trying to wrap around the notion that less than two weeks ago, he had found his wife crawling on her hands and knees in the Bilge Pump Pub, trying to escape without him noticing her.  It was only the dragging of her skirt that caught his attention.
As she was about to cross the threshold and escape to freedom, he had recognized the curve of her bottom and had caught her by the ankles, dragging her back into the tavern and yanking her to her feet.  He found himself face to face with the one he had been searching the Caribbean for over the last eighteen months.
What had started out as a forced kidnapping became a willing reconciliation.
Honour had given herself freely and willingly and had also given him the greatest gift she could.
A child and the promise of a family.
While he didn't agree with the way she left, he now understood why she did what she did.
Cade's figuring into the equation, however, was inexcusable.

"Jack, did you hear me?"
He looked at what she had spread all over the bed, the look of puzzlement on her face. He crossed over and sat on the bed next to her.
"Having a problem, are we?"
"Yes. I can't figure out what all these books are about."
She sighed. "Was it all for naught?

He brushed her hair back. "No, Honour. The journal and the secrets of the chest led you back to me."
She smiled broadly.
"Yes, it did. And I realized that I was on a journey and you are the journey's end."

She opened one of the books and said with exapsertaion, "Look here! All I see are squiggly lines and symbols that make no sense."
"Just as they would no doubt view our written language."
"But there has to be a key to translating them. Maybe one of them is a primer for learning their language?"

Jack took the ribbon from her hair and gave it a gentle tug. Softly he said, "Does it really matter, Honour? I found the treasure I was looking for the last eighteen months. All my life, really."
As he kissed her and gently pushed her back on the pillows, she whispered, "I love you, Jack."
He pulled back and said, "What did you say?"
He looked at her with a tenderness in his eyes she had never seen before, even when they were in Castara.
"I said, 'I love you.' Good Lord, it is like a catharsis for me to finally be able to say that again!"
"Again? And who have you said that to before, my dear? Cade Jennings?"
Rhys Morgan's face came unbidden to her memory. But for once she didn't feel any sense of betrayal. Rhys was the past.  Jack was her future.

"No, my love. I never told Cade that I loved him. I don't think he really loved me either."
"And I had no idea that Cade hated me so much."
"He didn't hate you, Jack. He admired you.  He wanted to be just like you. And he learned well. That was why he bought the Gryphon."
She put her arms around Jack and drew him to her.
"But let's not speak of him. This is our time to reconcile."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

When Honour woke up the next morning, she vaguely remembered Jack kissing her and saying something about coordinates, the Azores, and the quarterdeck. She stretched her arms over her head, yawning. Sliding out of bed, she dressed in a blouse and skirt. Carefully she went through her recent purchases until she found what she was looking for.

Honour made her way to the deck. There was Eli Meredith, busy making a knot in the rope that was coiled.
"Eli? May I see you a minute?"
Eli scrambled to his feet.
"Good morning, Mrs. Wolfe."
"Please--call me Honour, Eli. I am only a couple years older than you are. Calling me Mrs. Wolfe makes me feel like I am your best friend's mother!"
He gave her a warm smile, feeling he had been accepted by the captain's wife.
She poured a cup of coffee and added a splash of brandy that Jack had kept hidden behind the binnacle. She reached over and added a bit to the cup that Eli had been drinking.
"I want to thank you, Eli, for staying with the crew."
"It's my pleasure, Mrs....Honour. And I owe you a debt of gratitude for intervening between the captain and myself."
"It is I who can't thank you enough, Eli. Whether you know it or not, you saved my life when Burgess was in my room. If the mutiny had been a success, it would be Captain Burgess. Captain Wolfe and Briggs would be murdered and I have no doubt that I would be put to death before long."
Eli looked down. "I am so sorry."
She gave Eli's arm a squeeze. "I also want to thank you for one other thing, Eli. This may sound strange, though."
"What is it, Honour?"
"If it weren't for the mutiny, Jack and I may never have found our way back to each other."
"I don't understand, Honour."

She explained, "When I came back to my room after pleading your case to Jack, you had fallen asleep. I hadn't the heart to wake you. But I realized this.  That Mad Jack Wolfe did have a heart and compassion. And it was a trait I thought he didn't have. We decided we are going to try again. And, Eli, we owe it to you."

His face blushed with undisguised pleasure. Eli had felt that he had redeemed himself fully for the part he played in the mutiny. Honour didn't tell Eli that because he fell asleep in her bed, she ended up in the cabin and in Jack's bed. How right it felt and how much she missed waking up in his arms.
He impulsively took her hand.
"I am so happy, Honour. At least something good came out of it."

She reached behind the binnacle again and took a package wrapped in oil cloth.
"Eli, this is for you."
His mouth dropped and the look of astonishment on his face was a sight to behold. Carefully he unwrapped it and his breath caught.
"Oh, Lord!"

The French rapier gleamed in the sunlight, almost as if it were glowing. He tenderly caressed the blade and his fingers crossed the engraving.
"E. M.--you even had it engraved!"
His eyes shone with pride. The sight of his joy brought unbidden tears to Honour's eyes.
Impulsively he hugged her and then realized he touched his captain's wife. He looked over and saw Jack standing over by the gunwale, watching.
"I--I'm sorry, Captain, Sir."
Jack affected a stern look but the corners of his mouth were turned up in mirth.
"I'll forgive you this once, boy. Although I can't say I blame you."
Then his face broke out in a grin. Eli nodded, smiled shyly and walked off, carefully holding the rapier.

Jack put his arm around Honour.
"How many times have I told you about rapiers not being any good for fighting aboard a ship?"
She leaned against him. "I know. But he needed something to make himself feel special. You can't buy loyalty like that, my darling."
He kissed her and said, "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"
She sighed happily and said, "Yes. But I never tire of hearing it!"

[Welsh Wench]

 
Honour pulled her shawl around her shoulders and shivered a bit.  Jack put his arm around her and held her close as they looked out across the port of Ponta Delgada on the beautiful green island of São Miguel in the Azores.  The fertile island that served as the midway point for their voyage across the Atlantic offered only a fraction of the warmth they were accustomed to back in the Caribbean.  A thick, surreal fog blanketed the area, further reminding them of their distance from those sunny shores.

Jack's thoughts drifted back two nights previous.  He and Honour were enjoying an after dinner glass of Madeira and each others company.  Once again, as they had the past several nights when Jack could devote his entire attention to his beloved wife, their conversation turned to their future together.

"Tell me again about Zara," he asked.
Honour laughed softly.  "You never tire of hearing about her, do you?"
"The more you tell me about our little girl, she becomes that much more real to me," Jack said, with a softness in his eyes that made Honour's heart melt.  Ever since he had learned of Zara's existence, she had seen a tenderness within him she wouldn't have believed possible some eighteen months ago.
She squeezed his hand.  "I know a better way."

Honour got up from the table and went to the chest of drawers.  She opened the second drawer from the top and began looking for something.
"You haven't been hiding little Zara in there this entire time, have you?" Jack teased.
"Of course not!  Do you honestly think any child of yours could stay quiet five minutes, much less this long?"  Honour pulled something from the drawer and hid it behind her back.  "Now, close your eyes and hold out your hands."
"The last time you asked me to do this, I found your dressing gown in my hands and you wearing nothing but a smile and my boots!"
Honour's mouth hung open in shock.  "Jack Wolfe, you are a beast!  Just hush and do as I ask, please?"
Jack settled back in his chair with a devilish smile on his face and did as she asked. 

Honour placed something in his hands and gently curled his fingers around it.

"Oh," he said, somewhat crestfallen. "Not a dressing gown. I suppose, since we've just eaten..."
Honour gave him a gentle slap on the shoulder. "Would you try concentrating on something other than making another baby?"
"Oh, difficult, difficult," he said with mock determination. "Let's see....it is rolled up and tied with a ribbon and seems to consist of paper. Honour, is this a prenuptual agreement after the fact?"
"Damn it, Jack! Open up your bloody eyes!" she said in mock exasperation.
"Ah, yes, that would help!" He opened up his eyes and looked at what appeared to be a scroll tied with pink ribbon.
"Damn. You're still dressed."
She gave him an 'I'm about to slap you into next week' look. He grinned sheepishly and untied the ribbon, then unrolled the paper.

Jack's eyes went wide.
"Honour? Is this who I think it is?"
She laughed gaily. "Of course it is!"
"This is really her? Mine? I mean...ours?" he asked in a voice halting.
She nodded. "Yes, Jack, it's Zara."

The paper revealed a detailed sketch of a baby's face.
"When did you do this?"
"Oh...over the last two days. It isn't quite finished but the face is. And a damn good likeness if I do say so myself. Of course, I was sketching from memory. But a mother remembers every single detail of her child's face."
"I had no idea you were so talented."
She raised an eyebrow. "My talents do extend past these four walls, I'll have you know. I used to spend alot of times up on the bluffs sketching and writing poetry. Somehow I have been....distracted by other things."

Jack traced the drawing with his finger.
"My God, she is just beautiful."
Honour laughed softly and said, "Well, I made her myself!"
"What you do mean, yourself? I think I had a hand in it too."
"You may have provided an ingredient but I did the baking and took it out of the oven all by myself!"
"Her eyes are just like yours. And her nose too."
"But the hair and that determined little chin are all Wolfe."
"And she is a princess. And with looks like that, she can rule the world!"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack?  Jack!  Have you heard a word I've said?"
Honour's question broke his reverie.  In fact, he hadn't heard her at all.  His thought were consumed by the fact that they were one step closer to seeing their daughter.
"I'm sorry!  My thoughts were somewhere else," he said with a smile.
Honour gave a laugh.  "I'll say they were.  Let me guess... Wales, perhaps?"
It was his turn to laugh.  "You know me too well, my love.  Are you sure you've dressed warmly enough?  I'd hate for you to catch a chill whilst you're here.  Then I would have to share you with Duckie!"
Honour laid her head on his shoulder.  "No, I'll be fine.  Besides, it will be a lot colder than this once we reach Beaumaris.  I have to toughen back up!"
"Don't toughen up too much, love.  I'm rather fond of your tenderness."
"No need to worry, darling," she smiled.  "Tenderness for you is something I'll never run short of."
"I'll hold you to that!" he chuckled.  "Now, see there?  Those are the shops I told you about.  The last time I was here, they carried the finest in Portuguese laces, woollens, and the like.  Maybe they'll have something cozy and warm for you.  And Zara too!"
"When were you here last?  It must have been quite a while."
"Oh, five years, give or take.  It was a joint venture between myself and my old friend, Rhys Morgan.  God rest his soul."

Honour felt a small pang of sadness at that name.  It was the first time she had heard Jack speak it since their honeymoon, and it struck her as odd that it should come up seemingly out of the blue.  But then again, this was Rhys' old haunt on his many jaunts in and out of the Mediterranean.
"Five years is a long time in this area, what with all their squabbles with Spain.  You're certain we'll be safe?" she asked.
"Darling, any enemy of Spain is a friend of the Portuguese.  Given that, I'm practically a national hero."
Honour turned and took him by the lapels of his frock coat, drawing him close.
"National hero, eh?" she said with a sly smile.  "How much store credit do you get for that?"
Jack laughed and kissed her gently.  "Not nearly enough."
She gave him an exaggerated pout.  "Oh.  Do they take guilders?"
"Yes, darling.  Whatever coin you carry, they'll gladly take."
She grinned at him, and shook her purse.  "Shopping awaits, then!"

As she descended the gangplank, Jack called after her.
"I promise I'll be along shortly!  So please, stay close to the waterfront?"
"I promise!" she replied with a wave.
Jack turned his attention to Briggs, who was having an ever louder discussion with a local stockman who had come aboard to take an order for ship's supplies.
"Twenty barrels... BARRELS..." he made a rough barrel shape with his arms, "of salted... SALTED... pork.  PORK-O!"
The stockman held his hands up in utter frustration.  Jack stepped in to defuse what what quickly becoming a bad situation.

"Sim.  Nós queremos vinte tambores da carne de porco salgada," he said calmly.
The stockman broke into a smile of relief.  "Sim, sim!  Você precisa qualquer outra coisa?"
"What else do we need, Josiah?"
"Um, thirty barrels of dried beef."
"Trinta tambores da carne secada.  Is that it?"
"Forty five barrels of water?  That should do it."
"Quarenta e cinco tambores da água fresca.  Aquele é todo."
"Muito bom, senhor!  Eu tê-lo-ei manhã amanhã entregada.  Obrigado!"  With that, the stockman turned to leave.
"Apenas um momento!  Uma mais coisa..." said Jack, and the man stopped.  "Talvez você poderia encontrar um tradutor para meu amigo?  Preferivelmente uma cabeça vermelha?"
The stockman laughed loudly.  "Eu penso que eu conheço apenas a menina!  Mas é cara!"

Jack walked back to Briggs, who stood there with an exasperated look on his face.  "Is there any language ye don't speak?"
"Cantonese.  And Polish."
"Too much gibberish?"
"Yeah.  And the Cantonese is almost as bad.  But at any rate, the goods will be delivered tomorrow morning."
"Aye, that'll do.  Now what was that bit at the end that had the two of ye laughing so hard?  It had to be at my expense."
Jack chuckled.  "I asked him if he could find you a translator.  Preferably a redhead."
"That'd do just nicely!  Thank ye, Jack," beamed Briggs.
"Oh, don't thank me too fast!  He knows the girl, but she's expensive!"
Briggs smile faded a just a little.  "I'll suffer through, for a redhead," he shrugged.

A little while later, Jack was walking the bustling streets of Sao Miguel.  The port town had grown considerably in the years since his last visit, so much so that it had lost much of its familiarity.  He thought back to his days working with Rhys, intercepting Spanish merchants and trafficking the goods from the Azores to Ireland and Wales, and even Holland.  It had been a profitable partnership, until the lure of the New World became more than Jack could resist.

He continued walking among the open air shops, hoping to find Honour.  While he knew she was close by, he really didn't care to be apart from her.  One of the shops caught Jack's eye, and he stopped to browse.  Piled in heaps on a table and hanging from the edge of the tent by strings were all manner of toy animals.  Horses, tigers, fish, and others, all brightly coloured and made from soft fabric.  A happy smile spread across his face as he turned them over in his hand one by one.
"Oh, this is it.  This is the one."  He held up a stuffed rabbit.  Its ears were long and floppy, and its brightly striped body was soft and plush.
"Ah yes, you like?" asked the eager shopkeeper.  She smiled broadly, exposing all six of her teeth.
"Yes, this will do nicely!  How much?"
The woman took the rabbit and turned it over in her hands.  "For you, three piastres.  A bargain!"
"Three?!" said an astonished Jack.  "I can have a feast for myself and my wife for that.  One."
The woman looked at the rabbit and shook her head.  "And you would have made his little girl so happy," she said to it sadly.
"How do you know it I have a daughter?  I could be buying that for a favourite niece for all you know."
"I've been doing this for a very long time, senhor.  Men with baby girls buy horses and rabbits.  And their eyes light up just like yours.  I can tell you love your daughter very much.  So one piastre is too little for my toys."

Jack looked skyward and sighed.  "All right.  You've bested me."  He pulled a coin from his pocket and flipped it at the woman.  She caught it in mid air and examined it, and the rabbit tumbled across the table to land near Jack's hand.
"A Dutch guilder!  Senhor, this is too much!"
"No, it's worth every penny for the smiles it will put on little girl's face," said Jack as he picked up the rabbit and stuffed it in his pocket.
The woman grinned happily.  "I close early today!  Bless you, senhor!"
Jack tipped his battered tricorn, and spun on his heel to continue his search for Honour.

[Welsh Wench]

Honour entered each covered booth, drawing her cloak closer to her. The tradesmen had braziers at each booth, so she was able to warm her hands.
"Do you have anything in a woolen scarf? Maybe a red?"
The wool merchant grinned and said, "Yes, Madame! The finest merino wool and knitted by my own wife."
She held it in her hands and hefted it. Not too heavy, not too light. She knew Jack would be unprepared for a Welsh winter.
"I'll take it, Senor."

At the next booth, she purchased a wool coat and gloves for Briggs and a few other things for the crew that stayed behind. She found a wool cap for Eli to replace the one he had. She remembered he had twisted it so much in his nervousness he had poked a hole in it with his finger. The embarrassment he felt touched Honour. She sensed that Eli didn't have much and had left to go to sea with whatever was on his back. She didn't know why she felt such an affinity for him. Perhaps it was his guilelessness or the eagerness to please. Whatever it was, she knew it was genuine. And Eli deserved a break.
She headed over to a small outdoor cafe, sitting down to a cup of hot tea when a pair of hands went over her eyes.

"Guess who?"
"Now, Briggs--don't you dare let Jack catch us!"
"WHAT?"
She laughed as Jack sat down.
"You were my second guess, love."
He grinned and reached into a sack. "I bought something for Zara."
Jack reached in and withdrew a stuffed rabbit. The eyes were sewed buttons and it had a bright pink ribbon on its neck.
"Do you think she will like it?"
She looked at the hopefulness on Jack's face and she felt a softness for him she didn't think possible.  He was so eager to please and do things right.
She took his hand in hers and said, "I think she will love it, Jack. How could she not? It is from her father."

Jack's face broke out in a grin. "I can't believe by the end of next week I will be holding my daughter in my arms."
"She's a squirmer, Jack! Just so you know. Always on the move.  Why, before I left, Muir----"
"Muir! I forgot about him!"
"Muir missed you something fierce. He took your shirt and laid it at my feet when I was packing to leave. At that moment, I almost changed my mind. I think Muir was trying to tell me something but I was too intent on getting back to my family."
Jack looked off in the distance. "I found that shirt. It still smelled like jasmine."

He took himself back to the present and squeezed the hand that held his.
"I feel like I have been given a second chance, Honour."
"As have I, Jack. And now we have a family."
"More tea?"
"I'm fine. But get something for yourself."
Jack went up to the tavern bar.

Honour sat there, a feeling of contentment coming over her. She felt that nothing could intrude on it. She looked out onto the bazaar and that is when she saw him.
Could it be....?
Impossible.
Her blood ran cold.
But no one wore boots like Rhys Morgan.

Her heart started racing. It can't be.....no, it can't. She held Rhys untill his life force ebbed away. She remembered brushing his hair back from his face and his beautiful grey-green eyes closing, his breath coming in a ragged gasp.
The blood...
Oh, the blood.

She jumped up just as Jack was coming back with his brandy.
"Jack...I forgot a purchase at the silk merchant. I---I'll be back in a minute."
"But Honour..."
She threw the cloak on and said hurriedly, "I'll be back in a few minutes, Jack."
Without waiting for a reply from him, she rushed out the door and looked up and down the street. The fog was settling in as thick as pea soup but even so, she spied the dark green frock coat that he had worn so often.
The gold and silver hilt of the rapier that he always wore.
The burgundy tooled boots.

She rushed down the lane, trying to squeeze by the merchants and their patrons.
"Excuse me..excuse me..pardon...sorry...."
The coat.
The rapier.
The boots.
The strut.
There was only one person who when you added up the factors tallied one man.
And that tally was Rhys Morgan.

As she entered a clearing from the people, he was gone in the mist.
She stood there and rubbed her eyes. Was it a mirage? A ghost intruding on her present happiness?
Or was he alive?
She looked up and down the lane but there was no one in sight.
No dark green coat.
No gold and silver rapier.
No burgundy boots.
Nothing.

She felt a tear escape from her eyes and she whispered his name.
Then she shook her head and said to herself, 'No, Rhiannon. You didn't see him. Your mind is playing tricks on you.'
She turned and headed back to the tavern, trying to compose herself.

Honour entered and Jack was sitting there, idly touching the ribbon on the rabbit's neck. She sat down.
"Did you find what you were looking for?"
"What?"
"The purchase. At the silk merchant."
She laughed shakily and said, "Half way there I realized I had put it in another bag. Sometimes I don't know where my mind is, Jack."
He laughed. "I know."
"What?"
"It is occupied with Wales and Zara.  Relax, love. We will be home soon enough."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Briggs shouldered the door to the great cabin open and bustled inside. It was obvious to everyone that the quartermaster was not a happy man at that moment.
"Sorry for bein' late," he said as he pulled his chair up to the table. Briggs grabbed the bottle of brandy and poured a nearly full glass. Jack and Duckie exchanged amused looks as he drained the glass and poured another.
"Rough day?" asked Jack.
Briggs looked at the ceiling and sighed. "Ye know them men we took on at Bridgetown?"
Jack nodded. "Yes, what about them? They seemed able enough."
"Idiots," huffed Briggs. "Well intentioned, but dumb as a bucket of rocks! I don't mind a man bein' green as grass, but these..." He shook his head and knocked back half his glass.
"Inexperienced?" Duckie asked. "You've dealt with inexperienced men, Josiah, and taught them well. What have they managed to do that's got you so frustrated?"
Briggs crossed his arms and leaned on the table. "Duckie, I had not one, but two men hangin' upside down by their boots from the mainsail riggin' this afternoon! After witnessin' a sorry performance like that, ye'll be forgivin' me a drink or three."
Duckie tried hard not to laugh, but failed.

Jack shook his head and indulged himself some brandy. "They'll get the hang of things..."
Briggs shot him a pained expression.
"... pardon the pun," Jack smirked. "You'll have them trained in by the time we port in Beaumaris."
"If I don't kill 'em all first," grumbled Briggs.
"Now, now, Josiah. You'll need them all if you're to get the ship to Amsterdam."
Briggs' face lit up. "Amsterdam? Ye know I'm willin', but why?"
"I'm not about to try and sell our cargo anywhere within the Commonwealth," explained Jack. "Their agents ask too many inconvenient questions. That's why I want you to take El Lobo to Amsterdam and oversee the sale of the cargo personally. For a handsome percentage, of course."
"Ye needn't sweeten the pot, Jack. Not when ye're sendin' me to that happy town!"
"Well, in that case--"
"But I'd be ungrateful if I said no," Briggs continued quickly.
"We can't have that, can we?" laughed Jack. "Whilst you're there, I'd like you to get the ship inspected and any repairs made. I trust you won't mind a few extra days in port?"
"Aye, it'll be done. Probably take a month all told, I reckon."
"Perfect! I was estimating the same," said Jack. "That will give me plenty of time to get to know my little Zara." Briggs could tell from the look on his friend's face that he could have said the Amsterdam run would take six months, and Jack would have been fine with it.

"As well as your other new family members," said Duckie with a smile over the rim of his glass.
"My other..." Jack began, and his voice trailed off. "Oh."
"Yes, your in-laws! Honour has told me about Megan and her husband. They sound delightful."
Jack fidgeted. "That's what she tells me, as well. Honestly, I'm not sure which I'm more nervous about. Seeing Zara, or meeting Honour's sister?"
Briggs took a sip of brandy, and stared into the glass. "It's not the wee one what's got ye worried," he said quietly. "When they're that tiny, they haven't learned how to judge yet. All they do is love ye." He looked his friend in the eyes with a mixture of happiness, envy, and regret. "When ye hold that precious tiny thing, ye'll understand. And it'll change ye forever."
"Yes, and just think how Megan and Daffyd will feel!" Duckie interrupted. He knew how deeply Briggs had been hurt by his son's rejection. The last thing he wanted was Josiah's wound reopened and Jack's moment spoiled. "No doubt this will be an awkward meeting for them as well. It's not every day you open your home to a notorious Caribbean pirate that just happens to be your brother-in-law."
"She'll likely be countin' the good silver every fifteen minutes," Briggs chuckled.
"Then I'll turn my pockets out for her every ten," said Jack with a wry smile. Briggs was right. He was very concerned about how Honour's family would receive him. The last time Honour was with them, she and Jack weren't on the best of terms. And she hadn't been at all forthcoming about what she had told them.

"Everything will be fine, Jack," said Duckie reassuringly. "You'll do what you always do; charm them completely. They'll soon realise their trust is more valuable to you than any of their belongings."
"I hope you're right, Ducks. I need this to go well."
"It will. Once they see how much you and Honour love each other..."
"And hear how often ye do," interjected Briggs.
Jack picked up the cork from the brandy bottle and tossed it at Briggs' head.
"Well, there's that, too!" Duckie laughed. "My point is, you will feel like part of their family before you know it. Because thanks to Zara, you are part of the family already."
"Feeling like part of my family meant having someone try to stab your hand with a fork if you reached for the potatoes out of turn," said Jack.
"Affection takes many forms, Jack." Duckie smiled and sipped his brandy. "Speaking of family, I won't be accompanying the ship to Amsterdam. I'd like to visit my, um, family in Shrewsbury. That is, if it's all right with you, Jack."
"I didn't know you had family in Shrewsbury," said Jack.

Duckie straightened a bit in his chair. He didn't want to reveal that the family he was going to visit was his sister Rose. Jack's first love.
"They moved there two or three years ago. I promised I would come visit if I was ever able. Since it would seem I have a month available, I'd like to make good on that promise."
"I don't see there bein' much of a need for your services on a simple run to Holland," Briggs said thoughtfully. "Maybe afterwards, dependin' upon the quality of the company the men keep..."
"In that case," said Duckie, "make sure you pick up a supply of mercury. I have the feeling I'll have a surgery full of men requiring aid."
Briggs laughed. "Consider it done! I'll give 'em the speech, for what good it'll do."
"Shrewsbury," Jack said, stroking his chin. "That's a far cry from Basingstoke. Your family have always stayed close to the ancestral farms. What on earth would possess them to move to the West country?"
"Yes, um, it was a bit of a surprise to me as well," Duckie lied. Rose was a notorious status seeker, and she had managed to marry Edwin Carlisle, the Earl of Shrewsbury. A powerful man twenty years her elder. And true to form, she became a wealthy widow. Duckie loved his sister, but he couldn't help feeling ashamed of her.
"Then it's a good thing we're porting so close," said Jack. "It will shorten your trip considerably." He took the bottle of brandy and topped of everyone's glasses and raised his own in a toast. "Gentlemen! To success in all our endeavours! No matter where they take us, may they always bring us back together!"

The three men drank, and drank again as friends and comrades, each one uncertain yet hopeful as to what the future would bring.

[Welsh Wench]

The gangplank was put in place. Honour slid her hand into Jack's and pulled her cloak closer to her.  He reached over to her and fastened her cloak pin to close it.
Gently he put her hood up.
"When will you ever learn to dress yourself, woman?"
She laughed and said, "There's a wenchmouth in there but I am not going to say it!"
"How do I look?"
"Very piratey. But don't fret. Megan and Daffyd know your occupation. In fact, Megan said she didn't expect anything less of me. She always said I had a penchant for pirates. Even when I was a child, I used to sit on the docks whenever I could."

Jack motioned Briggs over to him. "Josiah, you are all set to take the ship to Amsterdam?"
Briggs grinned. "Aye, right and ready. The men will take two days' rest and then we shall sail off."
"And you know who to contact for unloading the swag?"
He nodded. "Claessen de Witt."
"And you know to hold out for twice of what he offers?"
"His reputation precedes him. He is known to be fair. After he sees no other alternative."
"So I expect you back around February 15th.  We will be staying at Honour's sister Megan's place--what was the name of the estate again, dear?"
Honour was putting her hands in a fur muff.
"Bancroft Hall."
"Right. Bancroft. In Beaumaris. We shall be ready to sail around that time. Just send word to us you are in port and we can be there by the next day. Bancroft is--how many miles is it, Honour?"
"Five miles from the port, darling."
Jack clapped his best friend on the shoulder.
"And you will be fine without Duckie?"
"I don't intend on getting into any skirmishes in the English Channel, Jack. We will be fine. Davis is with me. Even the kid. What's his name."
"Eli, Josiah." Honour supplied. "Jack? Are you ready?"
"As ready as I will ever be, darling. Lead on!"

They sat in the carriage, Jack looking out the window abstractedly.
"Jack, there is no reason to be nervous. She's only a baby."
"Only a baby? Good Lord, Honour! Here I am thirty-six and I am meeting my own flesh and blood. I just want to make a good impression on her!"
"Jack, she doesn't know about impressions. All she will want is to be rocked and sung to."
"What about your sister?"
"She's too old to be rocked."
"You know what I mean. I want your family to like me."
She patted Jack's hand.
"They will love you."
"I wanted to shave before we saw them."
"Darling, what would your crew think if you turned dandy on them? No, you made the right decision to gentrify yourself once we got there. Besides, Megan and Daffyd are good sorts. And their children will love to meet their Uncle Jack."
"That's right, Honour. Lay the pressure on me!"
She laughed. "It will only be for a month, Jack. What can possibly happen?"
He looked darkly out the window of the carriage. "With us? Anything!"

The carriage pulled up to a manor house in dark red brick and a trail of frozen ivy crawling up the side. The bare trees were laden with icicles and snow covered the roof.
Jack helped Honour from the carriage and pulled his great coat closer to him, the red wool scarf around his neck.
"My God, it is like a winter wonderland, Honour! I hope it is warm inside."
"Megan has a fireplace in every room, dear. But the real warmth is in her hospitality."
"And..and she is inside?"
"Megan? I suppose so."
"No! Zara."
"Well, I am sure she doesn't have any social obligations yet, Jack. Yes, she will be indoors. Megan is so overly cautious, she wouldn't take her outside. Now--take a deep breath!"

Honour reached up and knocked on the great lion's head door knocker.
The door opened and a dumpling-faced woman opened the door.
"Miss Rhiannon! You're back earlier than we expected!"
Jack turned to look behind him and saw no one. It finally hit him that he now knew his wife's real name.
Rhiannon.

Honour hugged the woman. "It is so nice to be back, Merrion."
"Well, don't just stand here, Rhiannon. Come in, come in!"
Jack followed his wife into the parlour.
Rhiannon took her cloak off and said, "Merrion, I'd like you to meet my----"
"So this is little Zara's da? I'd know it in  a minute. The hair and the chin!"
Jack couldn't help but grin. He was shifting from foot to foot, anxious and nervous to finally meet his progeny.
"Did you have a nice sail to Barbados, Rhiannon?"
"It was incredible, Merrion!"
The housekeeper frowned a bit. "We expected you to come back by yourself. Megan will be very surprised."
"It's a long story, Merrion, and I am sure----"

"Rhiannon!"

[Welsh Wench]

Honour ran over and gave the woman a hug. She was about five years older than Honour, her hair a honey-coloured blonde and her hazel eyes reflected a serenity that Jack scarcely saw in women. She was about the same height as Honour but she was plumper. A woman who was content with her maternal status.
Honour ran back to Jack and took his hand.
"Megan, I would like you  to meet Ma----um..Captain Jack Wolfe."
Megan tried to suppress a grin. "With an 'e; no less! My, my....the other names I had heard you called!"
Honour felt her face colour. Megan continued, looking up at the ceiling as if they were all listed there.
"Let's see...there was 'scoundrel'....'cur'....."
Honour tried to motion Megan to be quiet but she continued mirthfully, "....and then there was my personal favorite. What was it again, Rhiannon?"
Rhianon's face continued to flame. "I'm sure I don't remember----"
"Oh yes! NOW I remember what it was! Let's see if I can do it right....'NO GOOD ROTTEN BASTARD!' "
Jack stood there, his mouth dropped open.  Megan then laughed gaily and said, "Don't fret, Mr. Wolfe. I called my husband 'lower than a snake's belly'. But we all say those things in the throes of childbirth!"

Honour asked anxiously, "And where is my little precious?"
"Nanny Greyson just got her down for her nap. So let her sleep a little bit or she will be cranky. Please, dear! Sit and visit. You too, Mr. Wolfe."
Jack looked anxiously at Honour but she sighed.
"Best do what Megan wants us to. She won't settle for any disturbance in her domestic bliss!"
Merrion came in with a tray loaded with a silver tea set and blueberry scones with clotted cream.
"I thought the guests would like a bit of repast. Lord knows, they will need to keep their strength up when they have to run after little Missy upstairs."
Megan poured a cup and handed it to Jack. Her eyes twinkled as she said, "Brandy is on the sideboard, second door on the bottom."
He grinned and headed that way. As he passed Honour, he whispered, "I like her....Rhiannon!"
Honour felt her face blush. She hadn't really noticed that Merrion was the one who spilled the beans on what her real name was. But she knew it was always in the background, waiting to come out. In a way, she felt relieved. As if one less secret loomed before her, waiting to explode.

Honour asked, "And how is she? Did she miss me?"
Megan handed her a scone. "Babies don't think in those terms, Rhiannon. But I think she felt something missing."
"And what did I miss? Did she take her first step yet?"
Megan shook her head. "No, I think she was waiting for you to come back to show you how she is growing up. But that upper tooth did break through. We gave her a wet rag to chew on and a spot of whiskey on the gums helped."
Jack's eyes grew wide. Megan smiled, "It is an old Conaway tradition, Mr. Wolfe. A tot of whiskey on the gums to numb it."
"Please---call me Jack. Um...Conaway tradition?"
"Generations of Conaways have relied on the spirits. Of course, some can handle it more than others."
Megan winked. "Why, some of us have even succumbed to matrimony while under the influence of aqua vitae!"

Honour asked, "Where is Daffyd?"
"Oh...he had to go to the magistrate's office to file some new deeds. The children are over at Standish Hall visiting with their friends."
Jack kept looking anxiously up the stairs.
Megan smiled, "You look like you are waiting for someone, Jack. OH! I know! Could it be you want to see your daughter?"
"Well, I was hoping..."
"Of course you were! Rhiannon, where ARE your manners? Take the man up to meet his little unexpected bundle of joy."

Honour grabbed Jack's hand and hurried him upstairs.
At the door, he hesitated and said, "Honour, I don't know if I am ready for this...."
"Jack, she is just a little girl."
"I know, Honour, but---"
"But nothing! You can't tell me the great Mad Jack Wolfe is cowed by the thoughts of meeting a little tyke."
"But...but what if she throws a thin mint cookie at me?"
"She won't. Maybe at Briggs but not you."

Jack still hesitated but Honour tenderly put her hand on his arm.
"It's all right, Jack.  She's not going anywhere.  You've got the rest of your life to get acquainted with her.  And her with you."

She opened the door and led him to a cradle that held a small, delicate little toddler. Her brown curls spread out over the satin pillow, her cheeks pink with health. She had a pink wool blanket wrapped around her, and she had one tiny hand balled up into a little fist, the other had her thumb in her mouth.

Honour gently drew the blanket down. Her eyes shone with pride but her voice had a little catch in it as she said, "John Michael Wolfe, may I present....your daughter."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Stepping close to Zara's cradle, Jack stared in wonder at his beautiful little daughter.  Her delicate features were framed by soft ringlets of her dark brown hair, a perfect match in shade and curl to his.  She had his chin too, which gave her a determined expression even in slumber.  Her complexion was darker than Honour's and a little lighter than his before he began his life under the scorching Caribbean sun, but the rest of her features were unmistakably Honour's.  Zara had the same rosy cheeks, the same nose, and Jack was certain she had the same large, expressive eyes.  Even the way she held her hands reminded him of his beloved wife.  He was utterly entranced by this tiny little life, his own flesh and blood.  As he watched her softly breathing, he found himself overwhelmed by a flood of emotions.  Awe, pride, love, and something else he hadn't felt in a long, long time.  Joy.  Pure, unadulterated joy, as perfect as the peace and contentment reflected in the angelic face of his baby girl.

Jack scarcely noticed Honour's hand as she placed it gently on his shoulder.  She rested her head against him and drank in the sight of her daughter.  Their daughter.  Zara had grown so much in the eight weeks she had been away.  She made a silent vow that she would never be apart from beautiful child ever again.  They were a family once again, mother, father, and child.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" whispered Honour.
Jack nodded.  "Beyond description.  Just like her mother."
 
He looked at her and smiled, and Honour could see the love and joy in her husband's eyes.    She could feel her heart swell with love for this paradox of a man she she was married to.  Pirate, scholar, lover, husband, and now father.  His capacity for tenderness never ceased to amaze her, but it served to prove what she already knew.  Jack would be a splendid father.  Honour watched his face, and an amused smile played across her face.
"Jack?"
"Yes, darling?" he asked, his eyes never leaving their sleeping babe.
"It's all right to breathe.  You won't wake her."
Jack grinned sheepishly, then slipped his arm around her slender waist and drew her close.
"I-- I don't know what to say, Honour."
"Why don't you start by telling me what you're feeling?"
He watched Zara a little longer in silence, then looked at Honour with glistening eyes.
"Everything," he whispered.

She looked into his eyes and smiled.  "That's a lot of things to be feeling," she teased tenderly.
He returned the smile, and sighed.  "She's even more beautiful than you described.  She's perfect!"
Jack slowly reached for Zara's hand, but stopped and looked back to Honour with a questioning look.  Before he could speak the question, Honour smiled and nodded.  He extended his finger, and gently touched his daughter's  little fingers.
"I can't believe how tiny she is," he said softly.
"Believe me," said Honour, "she didn't feel tiny when I was giving birth!"
Zara moved slightly, and made a small noise.  Jack instinctively pulled his hand back.
"It's all right, Jack.  She's still asleep.  You didn't wake her.  It's no different than when you move in your sleep."
"Yeah, but very different from when you move.  My pillow ends up on your side of the bed when you do that..."
Suddenly, Jack gasped.  Honour looked to find Zara's little hand grasping her father's finger.
"What do I do?" asked Jack nervously.
Honour put her hand over his other hand and squeezed.  "Just enjoy it."
"That I can do," he grinned.

"She's really got quite the grip!" he laughed.
"And you'd best remember it," advised Honour.  "She will latch on to anything in reach."  She tugged at his long locks, and tapped the shiny gold earring in his left ear.
"Oh, right," said Jack thoughtfully.  "I suppose I have an awful lot to learn."  His face clouded with doubt.  "Honour, what if...  what if I make a mistake?"
By this time, Zara's grip on his finger had loosened, and she brought her little fist back near her face. 
"Let's talk outside," Honour said quietly, and urged Jack to come with her.  They left the nursery, and she closed the door behind them quietly.  Before he could say a word, she  rushed to her husband and hugged him. 
"Oh, Jack!  Everything is going to be fine, just fine!  Yes, we will make mistakes.  But we'll make them together.  And we'll fix them together."

Jack smiled at her.  "I suppose she didn't come along with an instruction book, by any chance?"
"No," Honour laughed.  "I checked with the midwife.  No instructions, not even proper paperwork.  The Lord Protector would be so disappointed."
"Let's not bring His Puffiness, Lord Cromwell into this.  This is a happy occasion!"
"You're right."  She cocked her head to one side.  "You know, you've told me so very little about your father.  What was he like?"
Jack's breath caught for a moment.  "My dad?  He was a good man.  Very solid and upright.  Firm but fair, and always quick with a bit of incisive wisdom.  Tom and I called him the Oracle.  If we were ever in a bind, he'd never fail to help us work it out.  He'd never tell us anything outright.  There was always a lesson to be learned, and he was a very good teacher."
"He sounds like a good man to emulate," said Honour.
"I guess he was grooming me for this moment," Jack said thoughtfully.  "Cheeky bastard, he had lessons in his lessons!"
"I've seen you do the same thing with your men, Jack.  And I've seen the way they respect you for it.  You are a father figure to most of them.  Take Eli, for example.  He wants nothing more than your respect and approval."
"I guess I hadn't stopped to think of it that way."
"You're a natural born leader, Jack.  Your father prepared you better than you know."  She took him by the lapels of his waistcoat and gave him a stern look.  "Just remember, Zara is your daughter, not a member of your crew.  I'll not have you ordering her about, do you understand?"
Jack started to protest, then thought about her words.  "You're right, as usual.  Lord knows how well that strategy works with you!"
"And it will work just as poorly with her.  Doubly so, since she's a product of us both."
"Aye.  I'll try my best.  I can't promise I won't slip.  Occupational hazard, and all that."
Honour smiled and looked into his eyes.  "I know, Jack.  Just as I know you will be a wonderful father."
He smiled, and kissed her softly.  "With you beside me, I know I can do anything.  But now it's your turn."
"My turn?  What do you mean?"
"I told you about my father.  Now I'd like to hear about yours.  You've told me practically nothing about him."  Jack stopped to look at the ornate door lintels and crown moulding.  "I'm just dying to hear how the daughter of a stable hand lucked into this kind of money!"
Honour bit her lip.  "It's a rather long story."
"I like long stories," he said gently.  "It's time for truth between us, Rhiannon.  Though you'll always be Honour to me.  Don't worry!  I won't love you one bit less.  I swear it."

[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]

Several days later.....


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."