Port Royal, Jamaica

[Capt. Sterling]

Unless, that is, it was another that acted in your stead.."

Remembering the mentioned lens in coat's keeping, it was fished out and handed over to Sterling's possession.

He took the lense and thanked her as she placed the paper in his hand. He was confused at first, then remembered he had already asked her to contact Symms the previous day. And yet, as he moved the lense over the parchment, his confusion only increased. Forced to reread the letter, he realized suddenly, from Lilly's hand affixed below that this was the very letter that had caused him to escape the confines of his room at the tavern. He straightened, raising from the support of the pillows. "How?" he stammered. He looked at her. "Where did you find this? How..." he brought the lense to use again, turning the paper over and over yet again. "Morgan's seal is not attached... what is the meaning of this?"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Aurore resisted the desire to move forward, although his sudden distress tugged at the compassion which swayed her thinking at times. She looked away to the window, " I had asked you last eve what you desired...I had assumed would be the documents mentioned therein..."

Moving to pillared footboard she slyed sidelong look, "That which you hold was sent to your attention recently. If its nature is something that still holds your want...It can be fullfilled."

[Capt. Sterling]

Aurore resisted the desire to move forward, although his sudden distress tugged at the compassion which swayed her thinking at times. She looked away to the window, " I had asked you last eve what you desired...I had assumed would be the documents mentioned therein..."

Moving to pillared footboard she slyed sidelong look, "That which you hold was sent to your attention recently. If its nature is something that still holds your want...It can be fullfilled."

For a moment he struggled for his breath. "YOU?! You sent this?" he finally asked, his tone bitter. "Surely you jest?" He looked at her, absent mindedly crumbing the paper in his hand. He did not know what to think as she turned to face him. He tried to calm himself, tried to remember his place...."Tis a game then? My deepest desire? Why would I tell a complete stranger what my heart craves? Have thee never loved another? Cared for others? That thee would not know there are many things a man desires in order to provide for them that are willing to lay down their lives to trust and rely on him? By God, bring me mine clothes...NOW!"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Aurore regarded him calmly, though on some inner level his words and tone stung. The ruckus brought the sound of quick movement on the stairs and on to hallway flooring. She did not have to turn, the rhythem of footstep all to recognizable. Christophe entered the room and halted to her raising of hand. Warily he obeyed and stepped back to thresh holds framing.

"I do not play games, as you so blunty relay. I had extended to you an offer, an offer that can be fullfilled if so desired. As to heart's desire...that is another thing completely. Trust...You speak of trust?! I can assure you that is something as elusive as mythical beasts in fairy tale kingdoms. Don't dare to lecture me on the virtues of trust and love, for I have suffered greatly at their hands."

She moved away from the bed and nearer to where the Frenchman stood, "If you wish so greatly to be rid my company, then so be it!"

[Capt. Sterling]

"... Don't dare to lecture me on the virtues of trust and love for I have suffered greatly at their hands."

She moved away from the bed and nearer to where the Frenchman stood, "If you wish so greatly to be rid my company, then so be it!"

"Have thee Modyford's ear then?" Sterling continued, no longer caring about the brute that had come to his mistress's defence. Let him murder me in my bed, he thought angrily. Better than to sit here and be used so vilely. "Or mayhaps it is his bed thee often graces in order to mold him as thee would prefer? A woman indeed, meddling in affairs of state. As to matters of trust and loyalty, I am sorry that thou has suffered but do not then take thy revenge on me! Do thee have any notion as to how important such letters of Margue are to the welfare of my family and to the safety of my crew? I have not the desire to have my neck stretched either!" He fixed his gaze on her and realized how deeply her previous care had touched him. He was not only furious at being made the butt of some strange joke, but he was actually hurt as well. He cast a glance at the Frenchman. "If I needs crawl from this place, I think it best I take my leave. See to my things... my deepest desire is to return to town now."

[Rateye]

“Did that boy just steal one of our horses?” grimaced Reiley, as he ran out to see the youngman ride away. “Get back here you welp!” yelled Reiley.

“Looks like you’re spending the night after all.” Crowed Abbigale, as she shook her head. “And rightly so, I’ll be taking a look at those ribs of yours and that eye needs to be cut.”

“Mistress Lilly,” directed Abbigale. “If you would be so kind to…”

However, her words fell on deaf ears. For after a day of unrelenting events, Mistress McKinney had managed to fall into a much needed sleep.

“She’s trouble and you know it…” Grinned Abbigale, as she tended to Reiley. “She reminds me of me…”

“oh!…. I doubt, there’s anyone like you, my dearest lady.” Insisted Reiley, as the old woman, struck a tender spot. “Will you be sure to let the dogs out? If anyone comes around, we’ll be wanting to know.”

“That I will.” Insisted Abbigale. “You best carry her to the other room. She can have me bed, I’ll be fine in the rocker.”

“You’re the best Abby!” Whispered Reiley as he kissed the old woman on the forehead. “Thanks again.”

[Cheeky Actress]

As instructed Reiley carried Mistress Lilly to the confines of the old woman’s room. As Reiley laid Lilly upon the bed, she stirred whispering the Captain’s given name, “Johnny?” Reiley shook his head in disbelief. In a low tone whisper he replied, “Ney, Mistress, ‘tis the good doctor Reiley. Now try and sleep. Doctor’s orders.” She nuzzled into the pillow and ticking and let out a deep sigh. The good doctor walked softly out of the room and closed the door.

Yet Mistress Lilly found very little sleep. She suddenly awoke with a start. “Bad dream” she muttered as she rubbed her eyes. It was a horrid dream all do to the fact that she was fretting about what had happen that evening, though Abbi nor the good doctor knew about the history that led up to the events of that evening. How could she have been so careless? She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes again as she turned over upon the small bed.

She knew that Lord Darnly was not a man who would give up so easily. She dreaded his fit of anger when she was with him and now that she had left his side to follow her heart, there would be hell to pay. “And he’s sent his horrid man after me…” The whisper was light but the very words carried a stinging tone of realism. “Oh Johnny…what have I done. What will be come of me know. Where are you my Sweet?!” She wept until she exhausted herself to sleep.

[Rateye]

The morning found Reiley reluctant to rise as he slept teetering between three chairs and a collection of blankets. But the aroma from the food being prepared smelled incredible.

“I know you’re awake,” Sung Abbi, as she continued to prepare the meal. “That horse will need to be tended to, if you plan to move that young lady to safety.”

“To hell with the nag, my ribs feel stove in…” Groaned Reiley, as he sat up and patted his eye.

“Breakfast will be ready when you’re finished. Go on now.” She insisted.

Reiley knew better than to argue. But when he returned from tending to the horse, rather than a cheerful "How have you been" the topic went directly to the situation at hand.

“So who’s this bastard you plan to wage war on?”

[Reginald Killingsworth]

In the aftermath of the uproarious bar fit, Killingsworth found himself outside the tavern. There was no point going back inside for the evening. The tavern was turned upside down and there wasn’t a single piece of furniture that hadn’t been broken. But the even air was pleasant and Master Killingsworth did not wish to venture out that evening. Instead, he found himself standing in front of the tavern and then finding a place to become comfortable. He also was thinking back to the letter he had given the bar-keep just moments before the fight broke out.

The letter was to be forwarded to the dark featured foreigner who dared to cross him that morning. Killingsworth found it very odd that this stranger ‘put the finger to him’ for now reason at all. “The Nerve of that…” He muttered to himself as he sat back upon a small coopers barrel outside the tavern. But he thought himself very clever when he remembered the simple rhyme that he penned for his antagonist.

Birds of a feather flock together,

And so will pigs and swine;

Rats and mice will have their choice,

And so will I have mine.

He pulled the bottle of wine to his lips and a rare but simple smile appeared there. “He doesss-ssn’t know whom he isss dealing with.” He hoped that the barkeep would soon deliver the message and that it would bare warning to the stranger and those that knew him to leave him be. He had his hands quite full with the recovery of Mistress McKinney. He didn’t have time for childish prattle.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

"Have thee Modyford's ear then?" Sterling continued, no longer caring about the brute that had come to his mistress's defence.  Let him murder me in my bed, he thought angrily.  Better than to sit here and be used so vilely.  "Or mayhaps it is his bed thee often graces in order to mold him as thee would prefer? A woman indeed, meddling in affairs of state. As to matters of trust and loyalty, I am sorry that thou has suffered but do not then take thy revenge on me! Do thee have any notion as to how important such letters of Margue are to the welfare of my family and to the safety of my crew? I have not the desire to have my neck stretched either!"  He fixed his gaze on her and realized how deeply her previous care had touched him.  He was not only furious at being made the butt of some strange joke, but he was actually hurt as well.    He cast a glance at the Frenchman.  "If I needs crawl from this place, I think it best I take my leave.  See to my things... my deepest desire is to return to town now."

Sterling's words cut deep and Aurore backed a pace nearer to the door with no verbose uttered in defense or retort. Christophe glared at the Englishman as she turned abruptly and retreated the chamber as response to cruelties.The rapid pad of bare foot resounded the hallway and down the stairwell, ending with the condeming slam of the cottage's main door below.

Christophe near thresh hold border and outside of the anger smoldering in slate colored eyes, his over all bearing gave nothing but neutrality. He held his tongue and said nothing, nor moved from the ground he held for the passing of minutes. When the Frenchman finaly showed animation, it was to retrieve disgarded parchment's mangled form. The victim of circumstance was straightened to best of expectations, and its contents observed keenly.

No regard was given to bedridden man, though his presence lay within two feet of where the Frenchman lingered. It took more than bark to unsettle the young man; he had witnessed and experienced too much in twenty-three years. Taking a seat in the chair that Aurore had kept vigil in, the bedraggled note was tossed back to bedtable's awaiting surface and skid slightly before halting against basin.

Still he kept silent, thoughts rolling about mental chambers like restless phantoms bedecked with heavy chain. The long fingers met in steepled formation as his elbows perched on furnishing's ornamental arms. Exhalation in exasperated form split the silence and the Trickster grin regained its hold.

"You are all of the same cut, you know." He stated matter of factly at long last. All that parading about in the trappings of power, status and titles. Origins have no bearing...France, Spain, England." He spat with contempt, eyeing the other coldly. " The Grand Charade, the tiny elusive games played to hide truths and insecurities with the heavy hand of judgement always viewing those not of your social standing as low and worthless. What lies you tell yourselves to stave off demons that call your names."

Christophe chuckled with ironic wryness.

"Ever so bold you are to air insults of base raison in this room, in this house...and to her. Does it somehow make you feel better for your losses to act as such? And do you think yourself above judgements by others, in turn. You may wish to consider all deeply and lay gratitude where it is deservedly warranted, monsieur. By the rights, I should lay you low for your vile assumptions...But, non." He paused to consider momentarily, " I think it is far more befitting that you remain on earthly plane and be forced to face the realities that Fate has drawn for you."

He left the chair with fluid motion and moved towards the still open windows. "Tell me, Capitaine...Where is it that you learned how to gage woman and their worth? Perhaps by the company you currently keep? Your mistress that offers her charms freely to any that may seem of benefit to her greed? Oh do dance on mon marionette, continue to persue and believe what she is and is not, for her apetit is veracious when it comes to the chance of comfortable living. I was witness to such when I arrived on your doorstep two night's past."

Christophe moved away from the window, recrossing to the thresh hold and lingered there.

" I will do as you request but, it is of my own decision. Never trust in assumption, Capitaine. I am not a servent and I do what I do by choice. Your affects shall be prepared, cheval readied and your way protected. Expect me within the hour and I shall personally escort you back to the apathetic existance you so crave."

[Capt. Sterling]

" ...Your affects shall be prepared, chavel readied and your way protected. Expect me within the hour and I shall personally escort you back to the apathetic existance you so crave."

“Pardon monsieur? And what would you know of my social standings?” came a quick retort. “I was born to the lowest of classes, the dregs of London, and left there by a father who never cared enough to inquire as to whether my mother, myself or my sibling lived or died. Until, that is, I was required to serve his purposes. Then I was forced to leave the only family that would truly ever care for me, and placed into a sphere in which I was repeatedly told I had no right to be, and then, since I was the 'most fortunate of sons', that I should be forever grateful and kiss the arses of my now so called equals. And for what, sir? To be rejected and welcomed in neither realm! The only place I dare to call home is The Archangel. The only few I know who love me are a daughter and Mistress Grey and perhaps, God willing, my crew! I know my mistress does not care for me the way I care for her… For God‘s sakes!!! She‘s denied me my own son!!”

He stopped to catch his breath, his heart racing in his anger. He fixed his gaze on the Frenchman who sat besides him.

“I have already buried three other sons, or do you think that not enough?” For a moment, he paused. Did he really expect a response from this man?

“And do not insult me as to making judgments of others and their character, I have been three years in slavery and know, first hand, all too well how wicked the treatment of man can be towards his fellow man. IF I judge your Mistress, it is not her but her actions. How dare she find her amusements where my life is concerned! What gives her such a right? What class does she hail from to try and manipulate others in such a fashion?” He suddenly looked away, his features screwing up as in pain. How could someone he did not even know have caused him such pain? Why was he so …. Disappointed? He could not help but hang his head. “I know not your Mistress, monsieur, but I would hope to God I would not play her so foully. Merci. I am ….grateful for your consent to help me from this place.”

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Christophe said nothing at first, enduring Sterling's words and perhaps at a hidden level, understanding fully portions of it.

" What class, Capitaine? Rather hard to tell, is it not? And that is as it is supposed to be. As to these amusements that you claim her doing, you are greatly in error. It is not my place to explain my Mistress' reasonings, but taking advantage of those in disadvantage would not be her taste."

[Capt. Sterling]

" What class, Capitaine? Rather hard to tell, is it not? And that is as it is supposed to be. As to these amusements that you claim her doing, you are greatly in error. It is not my place to explain my Mistress' reasonings, but taking advantage of those in disadvantage would not be her taste."

"No," Sterling said shaking his head. "I would not think you would. Damn yer eyes," he snapped. Climbing from the great bed, he snatched off the linen sheet and wrapped it about himself and made his way to the stairs. His sudden efforts left him light headed for a moment as he tottered at the top of the steps. Then, just as suddenly, he was down them, making his way to the door and out into the morning and its inhabitants. To say those he past were astonished at his appearance would be an injustice to them. He spied her standing a few yards off, alone and made his way toward her.

"Mistress I wish a word with you!" he called.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Those that stood the clearings surround ceased actions and conversation as the Englishman apeared. None dared make smart remark in regard to his attire or hypothosize why he was addressing Aurore with a seeming familiarity. Christophe followed doggedly behind soon after, but hung back.

Sterling's hail chilled her and she worked to compose herself as he neared proximity. Turning slowly, Aurore resisted the urge of flight and eyed him warily.

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling's hail chilled her and she worked to compose herself as he neared proximity. Turning slowly, Aurore resisted the urge of flight and eyed him warily.

He came to a halt beside her, almost abruptly, his shock at finding her so tiny. And though, he would not be considered tall, he towered over her and he could see she was not comfortable at his approach.

"Since thee has been so evasive with me in our brief past, answer me just one question Lady," his voice softening as he spoke. He looked down into her eyes and almost lost himself there for the moment. He felt himself grind his teeth together, his jaw tense to the point of discomfort. He felt himself take a deep breath and discovered a sudden wish that she would be straight forward with him just this once. My God, he wanted so just to touch her cheek... he shook his head as if to clear it of such distraction. Instead he pulled the linen closer about himself. All too aware of them that watched in hush tones, he whispered, "Why?"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The urge to bolt screamed its want as he looked down upon her. His soft query further unsteadied her fortitude and her mind raced to find words for reply. Sterling's unwavering focus caused her to look down to grass that shown brilliant green in morning sun, "Je...Pour quoi?..."

She stole a glance to his face then away again, "Because there are times when one who has advantage should share its rewards with those deserving... I.."

Aurore's speech staggered to halt and she tried to concentrate on anything that excluded his near standing.

[Capt. Sterling]

The urge to bolt screamed its want as he looked down upon her. His soft query further unsteadied her fortitude and her mind raced to find words for reply. Sterling's unwavering focus caused her to look down to grass that shown brilliant green in morning sun, "I....why?..."

She stole a glance to his face then away again, "Because there are times when one who has advantage should share its rewards with those deserving... I.."

Aurore's speech staggered to halt and she tried to concentrate on anything that excluded his near standing.

Her words stole his breath away completely. He opened his jaw to speak, but it wavered, useless, hopeless. And suddenly it was she who towered over him in her character. He took her by her shoulders and tried to make her look at him. Christophe took a step forward in alarm but then held his place.

"Lady," he said once he found his voice and yet it was not full when he spoke. "Tis all? Just to help... help.....me and mine?" He already knew her answer, did she not already put her life on hold as well as at risk just to care for him in his sickness? He let go of her and dropped to his knees before her. He had never felt so utterly...."Forgive me Lady," he whispered. "I am the very worst of men."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Aurore's confussion overwelmed her normal structured thinking and her heart raced like a small sparrow trapped with desire for freedom. His touch startled her and she considered the ramifications if specific others had been present to view his actions.

Now as he kneeled afore her, Aurore observed just how pale his complexion had grown. Lowering herself to his level she was unable to meet his eyes, "Monsieur, you look not well at all. Please allow me to have you returned to the room above."

[Capt. Sterling]

"I have caused you enough grief Lady. I should take my leave of you and yours. I am not deserving of your investment nor your further kindness." He dared not look at her. Had his masters not taught him well enough to look away from them that were his betters?

He cleared his throat. "I have just thrown away the welfare of my crew and worse, offended someone with no more thoughts of guile nor greed than the angels themselves." He rose to his feet, bowed slightly then turned and made his way back to the house. As he past his clothing, still afixed to its line to dry, he jerked his breeches and shirt from it before he disappeared back inside the cottage.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Instinct told her to give Sterling his wish, to allow him to leave and return to those that were of his kind. He was Gadje and from another world far from her own. But something nagged insistantly at the corners of her mind and would not shake free as she watched his deft retrieval of clothing. Without thought, Aurore raised herself and followed behind ignoring the cautioned look given when passing Christophe.

This would not do, this curiosity could be dangerous...Nevertheless, into the cottage she went and stepped softly the incline to upper floor.

[Capt. Sterling]

Strange how mounting the stairs was so much more difficult...

When he reached his room the first thing he did was not to dress, but, in a temper launch the clothing he carried against the far wall. He turned and sat on the foot of the bed. He could not remember feeling this low. He sat trying to fathom why he had done the things he had, said the words he had so thoughtlessly chosen. He rose finally, the linen slipping from his shoulders and falling to his waist. What was the point of wondering where he had made his mistakes, it was all too late now. He reached for his boots as he heard someone climbing the stairs, following him... and realized he should go close the door.....

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Aurore reached the landing and hesitated, questioning her train of reasoning then moved forward. Her sight was cast downward as the thresh hold was achieved and when she raised her eyes her assured footing paused. Her normal bold air had already been shaken by Sterling's actions in the yard below and now retreated her being completely.

"Mis....Pardon..."

[Capt. Sterling]

He straightened, his boots left slumped against the chair legs. Akwardly he tugged the sheet back into place as he looked at the small lass framed in the doorway.

"Aye Lady? Oui?" he replied.

[Rateye]

"He's the Devil himself." Offered Lilly, as she overheard Abbi and Reiley talking. "But I beg you, don't make me tell more. At least until I..."

"Say no more, my dear." Insisted Abbi. "You just sit yourself right here and have yourself some breakfast."

After helping Lilly to her chair, a large and seemingly endless breakfast was presented by the cheerful oldbird.

"Such a breath of fresh air." Thought Lilly, as she enjoyed the wonderful meal and simple conversation. It was as if the old lady was able to temporarely eliminate all the troubles and fears which had been building for so long.

After their meal, Reiley began loading the carriage.

“Mistress Lilly, a word before you leave?” Beckoned the old woman, as she motioned toward Lilly.

“That one there might be a scoundrel, but he also has something of a good heart." Started the old woman, as she nodded toward Reiley. "However, you know as well as I, you can’t always count on a man to be there when you need him."

"SO I want you to have this….” Smiled Abbi, as she handed Lilly an object covered by an old weathered handkerchief.

From the weight and the shape, Lilly immediately realized it was a small pistol.

“No I really….” Lilly protested.

“I insist, my dear.” Demanded Abbi. “Besides it’s not only for you necessarily. It’s so you can also look after him! Lord knows, sometimes he needs it….”

How could Lilly argue with such a sweet old-bird. “I kindly thank you then.” Lilly replied, with a slight curtsy.

“Nonsense!” puffed Abbi, as she gave Lilly a big hug. “You just stop by and visit an old woman from time to time… And be careful now.”

After hitching the horses, Reiley returned and helped Lilly to the coach. As he returned for his armorments, he stopped to say goodbye to the old lady.

“If anyone stops by, you haven’t seen us.” Reiley cautioned, as the old woman gave him a big hug.

“I think I can take care of me own self.” Insisted Abbi. “Though I doubt you can say the same… Love to you, my boy.”

“And love to you, my dear.” Answered Reiley, as he gave her a peck on the cheek. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

With that, Reiley and the Mistress climbed into the carriage and rode off.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The morning was still fairly young when Sabastian requested the retrieval of his horse. The chambermaid Molly lay comfortably curled in tosseled linens, barely stirring when he had whispered of later rendevouz. Stepping out into the open, the young man streached like contented feline, intaking a deep breath of the slightly muggy morning air. A series of light tinkeling drew his attention to the large black horse waiting patiently with ears forward. He smiled smuggly knowing that his older brother dissaproved of the ornimentation gracing Sabastian's choice in tack, the bright silver contrasting so greatly against the beast's midnight hide. With carefree vault, he gained the horse's lofty perch and was about to leave yard's confine when his name was called. Turning in the saddle, he placed voice to face and turned mount to view the large frame of Mister Franklin pulling a small object from weskit straining to contain the man's wide breadth.

A nod of acceptance was given as the sealed paperment was turned over for inspection, its' light coloration a blare of contradiction to the olive tincture of Sabastian's hands. His quick eyes fell upon the bright crimson seal, drawing a quizzical look to wolfish features. The dark equine shifted its' footing then came to rest, turning its' head to view Franklin with mild curiosity. Leaning forward, a small knife was retieved from the soft tawny folds of right boot and the seal was broken.

Birds of a feather flock together,

And so will pigs and swine;

Rats and mice will have their choice,

And so will I have mine.

One brow raised to the sing song prose, followed by a roll of amused chortle. An impish glee danced in Sabastian's dark eyes as he addressed the large man standing near, "I would ask who this came from, but I think it goes without saying. Eh, ami?"

"Aye, came from tha' dandy at The Shipp. Did you wish to reply?"

Sabastian rubbed his chin unconsciously, his lithe frame shaking in silent mirth, "I will think on it, for now."

"There was a bit o' upset at there last eve an' the place be a wreck." Franklin continued, "Templeton is all inna fluff this morn jus' go'in on about the costs an' whatnot."

" Was it a good row?"

"Oh, one could say it near rivaled the one two weeks past when the Allister lads stirred it up."

Sabastian's frame convulsed with more rapidity as he remembered the night, " That was a good one, as I recall...Pity I did not see the newest reindition. Any other word?"

Franklin relayed the night's events with finite detail. Upon finishing, the large Yorkshire man waited calmly for the "order of the day".

" Have you seen Andre'?"

"Aye, he was down near the Crawles at sunup, talkin' to that shipwreight Mister Mallory."

"And my sister?"

" Jason said she has not come into town yet this morn. That late in'na day jus' past, she an' Christophe showed up at the cottage with some fellah on'na horse sling."

The wolfish features pinched briefly, " Who was it?"

" The boy said he was not sure, it was all hush hush like. But he said the man was in'na sad state. When I saw Jason, he said he had jus' made town and was sent by Christophe with a dispatch to be delivered to some fellah named Symms up a' the Three Crowns."

"Mon dieu," Sabastian whispered under breath. He fixed the large man with serious look. "Does Andre' know anything of this?"

"I doubt it, Jason acted real standoffish about the whole thing. I think Christophe may have been thorough in his instruction, 'cause the boy made me sware not to mention it if I saw your brother."

Sabastian rolled his eyes and exhaled heavily," Very well. I will tell you the same then. In fact, find the boy and make yourselves scarce until I can sort this out. I am going back to the cottage."

The large horse was turned again to the accompniment of minute ringings of headstall bells. Sabastian held the animal in check long enough to glance over his shoulder, " And Monsieur Franklin..."

"Aye?"

"Please tell Molly that I might be delayed and see that she is tended to."

Sabastian flashed mischievous grin as he left the bull of a man's company. The edge of town was gained quickly, but the large mount was reigned in to a slower pace at the sight of carriage leaving the old mill up ahead. As Sabastian neared the horse drawn vehicle, he brought his own transportation to halt. Doffing his hat with sweep, he wished them both salutation of good morn, then spurred his mount on.

The woman was easily recognized, her companion seemed familiar. He pondered lightly Rieley's identity while crossing the stream that fed near mill. If this had been a different morning and under different circumstance, Sabastian might have paid call on the matron of grain. He would flirt and she would call him a scamp, it had gone on like this for some time...