Capt. Sterling

Reiley finished one glass of wine before collapsing into a nearby chair. He waited for Aurore to settle as well before he leaned forward, elbows propped upon knees. He looked at wine as it swirled in second glass before he looked up at Aurore. “I am not certain I should draw you into what has happened,” the doctor said. “Surely if you knew, you could be held responsible. Your husband would die if any harm came to you because of his actions. I do not believe he could help himself... he was not in his proper mind. And though I know you would not tell anyone about it... Oh God,” Reiley said, rubbing one hand across his mouth. “It will surely all come to light and then where will he be?”

Lapsing into fitful sleep, Sterling continued obscure speech, sorely vexed for the welfare of some unknown. Aurore sat with growing concern until husband slipped into unconsciousness and finally quiet rest. For a long while after she sat, watching him, soft caress applied to face and the hand she still clung to. And yet she was all too aware of Reiley’s constant flight about the bedroom, moving from one curtained window to the next, to peek out from behind heavy drapery, searching for any uncertain movement below in the surrounding yard. When at last, she felt comfortable enough to remove herself from loved one’s near presence, she stirred herself and went to pour three goblets full of strong wine. Two she carried to the doctor, who had yet again moved to the opposite side of the room to check upon the outside world. “Doctor,” she said quietly, backing up enough to save fine liquid as Reiley nearly jumped out of his own skin at her address. He turned and faced her, drawing the curtains closed before he did so. She passed both glasses to him, then went to obtain the third for herself. With one more concerned glance at Sterling, she took a sip. “You will tell me now what has happened to cause you to come here in such a fashion.” It was not a suggestion and Reiley knew it.

^ never been one to blend in... no fault of my own of course... < Yes! Tis the weekend! V passing on Chole's question: what do you find intimidating?

None too gentle slaps were administered to wounded man’s face until eyes flickered open and he sat up. He grimaced reaching for the hole in the front of his shoulder, then focused upon the man who bent over him. “You!” he gasped in alarm. “Le Cour…” “Enough said on your part,” Seth Childermass warned. He straightened. “But you will listen now to what I have to say. If so much as one word escapes your lips regarding what has transpired here, you will see me again. For a very brief space of time.” “But…” Childermass struck a hard blow across the man’s mouth. “Did you not hear me? Sorry it is for you then for I will not repeat myself again.” The wounded man raised his arms against further assault. “No, no. I understand. Nothing from me. Not a word, I swear it!” He recovered and pointed to the trio holding the hurt child. “But what of them? Who will guarantee their silence?” Childermass moved to horse and mounted. “What has happened has bound them to silence out of thankfulness and new found loyalty,” Childermass replied, as sobbing child was gently handed up to his safe keeping. “But how will I explain their loss?” the man asked, his tone becoming frantic. “I am certain you can think of something suitable as long as it is not the truth. Remember, the only one who needs to fear is you my friend. Lucky you are indeed for that ball could have very well done you in. You are granted a second chance, do not place yourself in a position for me to take that away from you.” Childermass turned his attention to the male slave. “We’ve several hours journey ahead of us. You will be pressed hard to keep up. See to your womenfolk.” Cradling child close to his body, Childermass pressed mount into action and small band quickly moved off

Oh I'm still here... sort of... slightly... um....

^ Deadwood, our gunner has a bit part in it < currently working on the Sopranos and, having come from Long Island, NY, find it so perfectly acted it makes me laugh because I know people just like that. V Fish, shellfish or sushi?

Reiley scurried about the chamber, gathering Sterling's clothing into a pile which was shoved into Stephen's arms. "Go, take these and stash them some place," the doctor ordered ushering the servant from the room now that he was no longer needed. He closed the door, removed his coat, rolled up his sleeves, then continued to make the room look lived in. He paused only briefly, watching Aurore tend to distracted husband. He would explain as soon as he could, but now was not the time. He grumbled to himself, wishing drug would take hold faster. "Shut him up if you can!" Reiley snapped when he could bare the babbling no longer. "Before I have to hit him again!"

^ depends on the film really... if there is a lot to look at, I don't care for the distraction of having to read... otherwise I like the original language better < think I might play hookie tomorrow... V favorite work of art?

Already heavily drugged, Sterling blinked trying to focus vision on who was assisting him, but there were too many hands fussing about him. Still, one pair was gentle, their touch cool as they brought glass to lips. “NO more!” he protested but as sights rested on the woman beside him, he settled accepting the mixture. “Oh God,” he whispered as his head was eased back down to the comfort of pillows. “Chere,” he sighed, hand lifting only to fall back to bedding without touching beloved’s cheek. He groaned, face screwing up with discomfort. “Tell the old goat to bring the girl here,” he stammered. “Buy her myself. Oh God! Bloody doctors, kill him next I will.”

acid reflux

JUST PERFECT! What a cutie!

Reiley raised from where he stooped, hastily removing Sterling’s shoes and stockings. “Fetch him a clean nightshirt!” Reiley told Abernathy. “Help him wash off his hands and face. He stinks of the powder.” Reiley went straightway to Aurore, passing her a vial he had removed from one coat pocket. “Here now Mistress, mix a good spoonful in a glass of water and see that he drinks it,” he instructed. The doctor's hands were stained with blood, Aurore balked fleetingly, before she took hold of the drug. Reiley caught himself before he turned back to seeing the captain quickly put into bed. “Do not worry tis not his this time,” he explained. “Now hurry Lass. We cannot take any chances.”

Reiley dismounted quickly, coming to aid servant with his burden. His arm moved back to support patient as he pulled Aurore into his confidence. "Quickly Lady, hide these horses! I must get the captain inside with haste. If anyone asks, he has been here with you since the other night!" Reiley instructed. He moved forward, toward the house with Sterling and Stephen. "Hurry we may not have time to waste. I do not think we were followed but unless Childermass can deal with the mess, it will not be long before we are found out."

^ to relax? a cold glass of fresh milk < tired of talking about myself but still like reading about the rest of you... V Rome, Deadwood, or Sopranos?

^ Tons of imaginary friends, most over at Port Royal at the moment < where would creative people be without imaginary friends...snigger V favorite imaginary friend or pet?

Little bare feet swung for another minute against the steps before Meagan stood and removed herself, entering the drawing room. She found her Mistress still busy attacking the mud that had stained the new settee. Aurore denounced her brother almost silently and the mess he had done to her house the night her husband had gone missing, as she scrubbed with brush, soap and water. She paused only briefly to brush stray lock of hair away with back of wet hand and smiled as Meagan moved across the room. The child planted herself in front of one window and began to scratch upon it with one of Aurore’s old rings. Aurore returned to the task at hand until she thought better of what the little girl was doing. “Meagan, Chere, do you think you should?” Aurore asked, dousing brush in soapy water once again. “But, Mistress, did you not teach me to etch my name in the cottage windows?” Meagan asked, still intent on her own chore. “Oui, ma Chere, but that was upon the windows in my own chamber. What do you think the Captain would say if he were to find you have marked up the glass in our new drawing room?” Aurore questioned. “Oh he would not mind, especially if you were to help me spell his name. Shall I link your name with his?” Meagan continued. Her trust and innocence brought a smile to Aurore’s face, something that had gone missing since she had been sent home. Sent home to find Sabastian’s horse nonchalantly grazing in her front pasture and his muddy tack tossed upon her good furniture. She did not even wish to think upon the damage to the back door or the plaster in the hallway. Surely, at times, brother knew just how to try sister’s patience. “I think, little one, that perhaps you should wait and ask Jean when he comes home, non?” Aurore said. “But he is home,” Meagan said. She pointed toward two riders in the distance. “See. And he has brought the pretty Chestnut with him. He likes the Chestnut so, does he not?” Meagan giggled. Aurore sighed and made her way to Meagan’s side. Astonished she saw that the child was not playing. “Meagan quickly, go find Stephen!” Aurore said, brush falling to floor besides where they now stood before the window. “Oui Madame,” Meagan said and hurried toward the kitchen. Aurore moved closer to the window, one hand coming up, fingers spread as they pressed against the glass. She watched the two men approaching. For a moment she thought her husband drunk again. Gone was regal carriage that she had come to admire. She remembered him fighting so hard to maintain it when presenting himself at tavern to cheering crew so soon after he had been shot. Now head was no longer held proudly aloft nor back straight, shoulders square. Instead, now riding boot to boot with Dr. Reiley, he slumped forward in his saddle, his seat far too precarious. He struggled now to maintain his place, Reiley throwing one arm about his shoulders to help keep him astride. Aurore ran to the front door. Toppled Roi was coming home, defeated by some unknown foe.

Eyes heavy with illness, exhaustion and drugs, groggily opened as doctor’s fingers at length stabbed flesh beneath jaw line searching for pulse. “My word, how can anyone rest when you are forever disturbing them? For the life of me, I cannot fathom doctors, but,” Sterling swallowed, running palm along side of face, his tone softening. “Thank you nonetheless. Here, what is that smell?” “Other than you?” Reiley quipped. “I brought you something to eat. Here let me help you sit up,” he offered. “How do you feel?” he asked picking up a pillow that had fallen upon the floor near the bed. He tucked it behind his patient then placed the tray across Sterling’s lap. “Do you really wish to know?” Sterling replied. Reiley frowned. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. Look, last night was a nightmare for the both of us. Being as irritable as you are, there is no way in hell that you will be able to get any proper rest in this place or another like it. I know you do not wish to go home, but I think you should.” Sterling sighed, dropping knife upon plate at the doctor’ suggestion. “I would rather my wife not know anything more,” he argued. “You keep saying the same thing about your crew. Your men I can understand, but she is your wife. Surely she has the right to know?” “I would rather she did not. Aurore is no fool. She will wonder why I did not tell her the truth before we … married.” Sterling picked up the knife again and rearranged the food on his plate. “I would like to be able to go home,” he whispered. “Good,” Reiley said, taking the captain’s response as a yes. “Can you ride?” “Seems that I will have to.”

^ already married, don't need to kiss anyone else! < V favorite piece of artwork

^ Horses and turpentine < accomplished nothing today... V good cigar, pipe, cigarette or nothing of the kind

muddled

water

^ good question. I personally would rather forgive and forget and where necessary severe all ties, but there always has to be someone that just WON'T drop it, they are always talking about others behind their back, going after friends for no reason, subtle things that unfortunately drag the whole thing back into focus... so when they insist on digging things up, would that be holding a grudge or are you just being dragged back into some thing you would just rather avoid? < Thank you Ransom V passing along Ransom's question

Congratulations Lady! Health, wealth and the best of all blessings on the little man and to all ye!

^ oh yes! and anyone... < home, number two child has an earache and boy did I need the rest. V Who would you let fade away?