Port Royal, Jamaica

[Capt. Sterling]

"Damnation," Sterling thought to himself. This was certainly not what he had anticipated nor hoped for. He went to his wife's side, rain soaked handkerchief offered in assistance.

"My apologies Chere," he whispered pulling her back into his safe keeping. "Come lets return to my cabin. We shall be fine there. You have my word, as soon as the rest passes, I shall bring you back to shore."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore made feeble attempt at smile, holding the rail firmly for added support of reluctant stance. Olive eyes kept planking below as centered attention, there was no desire to glance about further.

Letting go of wooden mooring, she allowed herself over to husband's whim.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Devon Burke wedged himself into the lacking space betwixt Sabastian and Christophe, mindful of the babe curled in slumber. Quick eyes checked immediate area before he leaned to leader's ear.

"He's been watchin' the lot o' us real close like, tis discomfertin' fer true.

Don'na say a word, jus' be givin' us tha' look like he be starin' into an' readin' our souls...."

Sabastian nodded silently.

"Like he be knowin' an' tryin' to be gettin' us to owe up."

"Oui... I will handle it." Response was just above whisper.

Devon stared ahead for a beat in time, listening to the rainfall batter the roofing above, " Ye know he won't be lettin' it lay an' me an' the lads are at a loss in how we should be helpin'..."

A sidelong glance was delivered, " Keep yourselves still as you have, nothing will happen here."

Reaching into the depths of still damp coat, Irishman produced a flask. Opening it with deft application, it was then proffered to near companions.

Without, the wind's angry howl was beginning to give ground.

[Capt. Sterling]

Aurore made feeble attempt at smile, holding the rail firmly for added support of reluctant stance. Olive eyes kept planking below as centered attention, there was no desire to glance about further.

Letting go of wooden mooring, she allowed herself over to husband's whim.

"There, there," Sterling whispered as he collected her. "Keep yer eyes closed and I'll carry ye. Lay yerself down for a bit and ye'll feel better. Shall I send for Dr. Reiley?"

[Cheeky Actress]

Lilly stirred to the sound of footsteps moving about the cabin. She drifted in and out of sleep and was still very weak from her fever. As she opened her eyes she saw the servant girl Bess drawing up a bowl of fresh water.

“Water, please…” Lilly’s voice barely a whisper as she raised her hand up towards the girl.

“Doctor!” Bess alerted the Doctor who had only nodded off moments before hand. “She’s awake.”

[CrazyCholeBlack]

Jane roamed the rain soaked deck before returning to her hidden corner in the dark hold once she was sure Ioan was out of site. His implication that she had something to hide set her on edge. Had she been so transparent or was he merely guessing to throw off her guard? Striker’s crew made her uncomfortable, but the Welshman, he was a different story. She wasn’t sure if it was simple distrust, or the reflection of herself in him that she saw. His demeanor reminded her of another mans, one she would rather forget.

Jane shifted in the clammy darkness, her back wedging against a rough hull beam. She had pulled the tool laden chest close by, her feet resting on the warn lid. Rain numbed fingers tucked into the opposite sleeves of her familiar coat. The ship lurched, the waves increasing as La Maligna trailed behind the storm. Jane could hear the distant murmur of the crew over the steady creek of wood and water. She found herself missing the Anna Rae already; the comradery the men had shared had helped her through many hard nights aboard the merchantman. Aboard the galleon she was but a stranger, neither a member of the crew or a passenger. The dichotomy of her position left her feeling out of place. She sighed, her eyes fluttering as she drifted into sleep. Blond head tipped backwards, eyes drifting closed as Jane settled into a memory laden slumber.

[Bess Hagarty]

This wasn't her place. Being on a ship was no place for a girl. She thought to herself. She felt trapped and fearing the storm, her nerves did not settle well. She looked down at Mistress McKinney as she took her hand in comfort.

"It's all right. We are safe aboard the Archangel, Mistress. The good doctor has brought you here to keep you safe from the storm." She could tell by the look on the Mistress' face that she was confused and out of sorts still.

"Shall I get the Doctor then?" Again she questioned the actress only to recieve a nod in return. Bess was about to turn and fetch him when she heard footsteps come from the other side of the cabin. "She's feeling better?" The voice said breaking through the darkness. The lanterns only gave off enough light to cast the outline of a shawdow.

Bess jumped back at the sound of the man's voice. "Who's there?" She said in barely a whisper. "Who wishes to intrude upon my Mistress and me?"

[Ransom]

With the storm lessening, and the damaged rigging repaired, Ioan was allowed to go below and get some much-needed sleep. One of the Danes showed him to a hammock, then went off to get his own rest.

Ioan slumped into the rocking canvass with gratitude. He was dog-tired, and although his clothes were still wet and crusted with salt, the thin wool blanket he threw over himself warmed him, so he was asleep in minutes, too exhausted to speculate on what would happen to him in the days ahead.

[Cheeky Actress]

Who wishes to speak with me? Lilly asked as she looked past Bess into the darkness. The figure kept its' distance. "I heard news that you were not well. I only came to see if it were true. I shall not bother you any longer. I must get back."

In a sudden amazed state Lilly tried to sit up. "Please. May I ask thy name so I may inquire whom the individual was that sought me out?" The room was quite for a moment. The ship still swayed heavy in the tide.

"Very well then." Said the man's voice. "I am Titus. I shall leave thee be."

Soon the ladies where left in the cabin by themselves. "It were a kind thing for him to stop by." Lilly nodded softly. Bess looked back down at Lilly. "Do you know him?" Again, Lilly shook her head. "No. I no him not." "Perhaps he remembers you from the London stage?"

Lilly laid back down into her bed. Her thoughts were else were. "Any word from the Captain?" Bess shook her head. "He's been commanding the ship and fighting through the storm. He spent most of the night up there with the men while you slept. Daylight broke more than an hour ago. I hope that we will set back to Port Royal soon."

Lilly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I've been a burden to him too long." She whispered to herself. "He has grown tired of me and now his child-bride takes my place both by his side and in his bed. All I wish is to leave this place and set sail back to England so I can see my son once more."

Bess tried to comfort Mistress Lilly the best she could, but she knew that comforting a broke heart was something she could not fix.

[Capt. Sterling]

With passing of the eye, the storm once again struck with as much fury as it could muster, but already, its strength was waning. Sterling had been through far worse and the ‘Angel continued to prove her worth, as with bow to the winds, she confronted the high seas like an expert rider conquering a green mount. At one point, Doctor Reiley, no longer green, instead now an ominous shade of gray, made his way to Sterling whilst still on deck, but Reiley was once again shooed away with instructions to give something to Mistress Sterling to help her sleep.

It was not until the storm had all but died down to a steady rain, crew members already turned out and seeing to repairs, that Sterling felt a hand upon his shoulder. He turned, his second officer wishing him to go below and take some rest.

“Tis been a long day, Sir,” Mr. Hazzards said, the need to shout no longer necessary.

“Ye’ll wake me if the weather takes another turn,” Sterling said. The mere thought of closing his eyes seemed to give his brain the excuse to try and halt itself. His drenched greatcoat gave him the impression of baring down upon his wounded shoulder as if he were once again enslaved and set to work against his will carting cut stone for city walls.

“Aye Sir, of course.”

Sterling nodded and slowly made his way to his cabin but not without a word first with Andrew March and several words of praise to individuals in his path and the two young midshipmen. Soaked coattails wrapped about his unfeeling legs as he moved, nearly tripping him, as buckled shoes poured forth water with each step like a sponge squeezed out over a basin.

Symms greeted him at cabin door with word that Aurore had finally fallen asleep with the young child close by her side. A nod of thanks was all Sterling could afford as the weight of sodden clothes were eased from his body.

“Bring ye a brazier with some warm coals, shall I?” Symms said softly.

“Nay, tis not safe enough for such yet,” Sterling mumbled. “A drink will do me. A quilt. Dry stockings, a shirt, my old banyan.” It was over now, he was certain, as his body and mind began to give way to exhaustion. He tried to think back over the turmoil of the past two days, between weddings gone awry, the fire, now this… he stood patiently as the old steward helped him to change, already he was falling asleep on his feet. Slight groan stirred him awake as wound stung him despite Symms’ extreme caution.

“I’ll fetch the new doctor, best he have a look at that. I’ll string a hammock for ye as well, since the new mistress has taken to yer crib,” Symms said as Sterling, finally changed, pulled the quilt about his shoulders and took a seat at his desk. Glass of port was placed within easy reach then soon lifted for sampling. When Symms returned he found his captain, head propped upon forearms folded upon cleared desktop with empty glass secured within the crook of one elbow. Symms stopped Reiley from moving further into the captain’s quarters.

“You are going to leave him there?” Reiley asked the older man.

“Why not?” Symms said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “Will not be the first time he be sleeping at his desk…it certainly will not be the last.”

[Aurore Devareaux]

Niahm Shea stood in what shelter could be provided but smallish overhang. Pale green eyes searched the muck and mire that was shown beyond doorway and she cringed inwardly to think what damage may have been rendered by Nature's wrath. The skies still exerted fresh tears from gray cladding as the storm lay in final death throes; the wind now at just above heavy breeze. She wondered if there was a home still standing to return to, but quelled dwelling on it overmuch.

Removing the simple shoes that clad delicate feet, Niahm stepped attentively upon soaked terra. Glancing about again before following the length of building then around to where ground gave incline and higher vistas. Pulling knit shawl tighter to her form, she moved undaunted forward and upward, hoping to gain better view of the surround. One bare foot sinking slightly after the other as the wind grabbed with greedy fingers at woolen shroud.

Such challenge of terrain and element drew focus to path chosen, closing out any other distraction. Head tilted downward to keep careful eye on the footing ahead, no forewarning made awares that alone she was not until voice was heard calling from crest above. Startled, she froze in pace, sights snapping to sounding's origin, then a hint of smile tugged her lips with recognition.

Niahm watched the Other treading carefully incline's slick, saw the shadow of disapproval wash over lupine features as he drew near. Dropping her attention to the sodden ground below, her hearing gauged his proximity as mud sucked veraciously to claim stake on boots and the flesh that lay contained. The steady footfall was heard to pause, and she stole a glimpse to size the reason, catching steady gaze of dark sights focused on youthful face and a bloom of color painted her porcelain cheeks.

Overcoat removed, Sabastian closed the distance between, raising a brow in silent query to her being here. Niahm found herself to be at a disadvantage of words, biting down on lower lip in nervous response. The dark eyes regarded her briefly, then coat was draped over her shoulders, warding off further attack of aqueous intent.

Downward hill's slant, at structure's rear facing, Andre waited with ever patience credited to those of predatory persuasions....centering held rapt on sibling's return progress.

[Ransom]

The Rakehell bobbed gently in the center of the protected bay of some un-named cay. Her exhausted crew slept where they had collapsed, too tired to eat, even after almost 30 hours of fighting the storm.

I lay in my hammock, listening to the slap of water against the hull. I'd gone far beyond mere exhaustion, and lay awake, though my body felt as if I had been beaten in an alley. But I was grateful for the calm, and for the fact that no one had been swept overboard, and that the ship was still whole with little damage.

When the sun had finally broken through the clouds, I took what bearings I could, and guessed we were two days south from Port Royal. Better than I had hoped.

As the warm sun shown through the thick glass of the stern window, and the hammock rocked with the ship, gentle as any baby's crib, my eyes finally closed.

[Lilith]

It had been two full days of torturous sailing on the high seas. As the waters finally soothed themselves from Poseidon’s anger, The Tartarus now set course for Jamaica. Commander Lilith took command of the ship’s wheel. Her mood was one of hope, yet she did not show any signs of this towards her crew.

The ship’s boson approached her slowly, fearing to make eye contact with her due to her sudden bouts of rage which she was known for.

“What say you, Gow? What is your report?” She asked Gow. Gow’s eyes slowly met the face of his Commander. “The ship’s sails are in need of repair, we need to take on fresh water soon and the men….” Gow’s words trailed off for a moment until Lilith cleared her throat waiting for him to respond quickly.

“Well, the men are exhausted from fighting the storm these last two days, Commander.” “Are they?” She said looking at him with her narrowed dark eyes. Gow quickly bowed his head again and cast his eyes to the deck. “Yes, Commander.” Gow said in a whisper. Lilith pushed her way past Gow and cast her eyes towards the horizon. “We are still on course for Jamaica, Gow. We will soon set foot in Port Royal. In the meantime, make sure that men are kept in line. If not, some unlucky soul will be cast to the bottom of the sea.” With a quick nod and a bow Gow left his Commander’s side. Lilith quickly regained the ship’s wheel once more and looked towards the horizon.

[Capt. Sterling]

With the storm’s death throes finally coming to their conclusion, the Archangel had returned to reclaim her anchor and deposit a number of her unwilling passengers ashore. As ship’s boat brought itself alongside the nearest wharf yet again, Sterling climbed out and saw to the safe disembarkation of his wife, Meagan and the two men who had endeavored to make the La Maligna.

“Tis sorry I am that I could not bring ye safe alongside yer chosen destination,” Sterling stated, as the twins climbed from the boat. “Mayhaps Striker will come about and return to the port.” With a slight bow, he excused himself and returned to Aurore’s side. Offering his arm, he walked with her, leaving the docks. They carefully threaded their way around the remains of the hurricane, hopping over puddles, skirting those that were too large for springing above, and trying to keep buckled shoes afoot instead of behind in ankle deep mud. It was obvious to Sterling that Aurore was already grateful to be back on semi dry land, her color already returning to grace soft cheek. And although she seemed happy, his own spirits sank as he realized she most likely would never sail again with him. He watched her as she looked about, taking in the damage done as he waited for the stable owner to harness up another rented horse and carriage.

He would bring her home, stay the night and then some, to ensure that all was safe and secure, both to his new house and the ‘Angel, and then he would take his leave. Already he had changed his mind as to sailing to Virginia. With Lilly McKinney still sick aboard the ‘Angel, he had made up his mind to put back home to England and reunite the actress with their son.

He pressed a coin into the man’s hand as horse and carriage were finally brought about. He helped Meagan in first, then settled Aurore.

“Is there any place ye wish to go afore I take ye home?” he asked.

[Captain Striker]

La Maligna was just behind the merchant ship . The bow cannons roared , sending smoke and and noise across the water surface . It was a hit ! wood shattered from the assault.The debris was flying through the air making splashes as it hit the water. The merchant's stern chasers went quiet.

As the smoke cleared at the bow of La Maligna , the captain saw that they had hit the merchant's rudder . "She will not get away now! " he thought to himself. He barked orders for the men to prepare themselves to board the incapacitated vessel.

As Maligna sailed near the merchant ship it was evident that the damage on the merchant was more severe then just a smashed rudder. It seemed that was taking in water. Suddenly the Maligna was being boarded . The assailents came out from nowhere . It was as if they were ghosts!

Alot of blood was shed and the crew of the La Maligna was surrounded and beaten. They were kneeling in front of the captain of the merchant ship. "Please señor , spare my men " Maligna's captain uttered . Striker's answer to the captain came swift . " Af med deres hoveder !"

"Off with their heads !" the answer was still haunting Striker . He remembered the Spaniard's hazel eyes looking into his before they went nomb and cold .

"We are almost at the Port" Said Ioan to Striker . "Aye , that we are !" Striker answered back "Aye , that we are... "

[Aurore Devareaux]

He would bring her home, stay the night and then some, to ensure that all was safe and secure, both to his new house and the ‘Angel, and then he would take his leave. Already he had changed his mind as to sailing to Virginia. With Lilly McKinney still sick aboard the ‘Angel, he had made up his mind to put back home to England and reunite the actress with their son.

He pressed a coin into the man’s hand as horse and carriage were finally brought about. He helped Meagan in first, then settled Aurore.

“Is there any place ye wish to go afore I take ye home?” he asked.

Sterling's query drew her attention away from survey at hand. The dark olive eyes radiated hinted pensive qualities as fleeted glance was directed to his face, then away. There lay a shadow of something over his expression that carried airs of disappointment and a subtle sadness; it whispered in undercurrent when he spoke and gave further evidence in his body language. Aurore stole another apprehensive glimpse of his carriage and as her lips parted to answer, the words caught mid passage with the sound of nearing horse and rider.

Navigating through the carnage of debris and much left in the wake of tempest greed, familiar visage drew near then dismounted. Devon Burke's quick sights evaluated the general surround as if judging the overall feel of proximity. Keeping reins clasped in one had, shallow bow was proffered in greeting, whimsical expression glossed over with the effects of long hours spent awake without cessation for rest. Relief floated within intelligent eyes with the fleet survey of La Cour's bijou being safe and sound. Centering moved away to horse and carriage, conjuring forth a small furrow upon youthful brow.

" Ye won' be gettin' far in tha' rig, Cap'n...Ye would find it a wee bit o' challenge on horseback alone, true as true may be...."

The Irishman gave no manner of sarcasms in observation, simply well founded truth. His near standing mount's condition verified actuality.

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling offered hand to Burke, once the other had made his comment, then sighed with a slight nod of his head. It would have been all too easy to remain onboard and sleep another twelve hours, but Aurore had woken early as reports were made of their safe arrival.

“I had reckoned as much, but did not conceive of any other way to get the Mistress and little Meagan back to the house," Sterling said. He was tired and did not wish to think nor to remain in the port if it were possible to make their way home. He had anticipated a full day's ride to cover the short distance due to the wreckage the storm had left in its wake.

"I cannot manage the child without the proper use of my arm and had hoped, once on the road, or lack there of, I might manage a,” he cleared his throat. “Drier route some where for the carriage." He shrugged his shoulders.

"And if worse came to worst, at least it would provide some bit of shelter for the ladies... Glad that I am of yer arrival, mayhaps if you have the time, the child could ride with you? I shall trade the carriage then instead for two mounts for Mistress Sterling and myself. If ye would agree to assist me, then tis only for Aurore to decide where she wishes to journey first.”

[Aurore Devareaux]

Devon considered what was asked of him, weighing against his original task. The atmosphere of the hours past in the shelter tugged at the corners of his mental facalties and an unconsciouce shudder played his lithe frame when turning to Andre'. A slow heavy exhalation was emitted in punctuation to what lay unsaid and he pardoned himself from the presence of much larger man, offering his arm to Aurore. The dark olive eyes searched the young Irishman's own quizzically, fleeted once to her husband then she interlocked proffered arm with a nod.

Burke guided her carefully to a spot just out of earshot, then quietly explained the events having transpired in her absence. More than once the expressive pools of moss tincture travelled to where Sterling waited in near distance as relay was given; her features near stoic though cognative gears whirled in mental chambers. Deep concern etched the normally whimsical expression of her escort, and in response, empathy began to bathe her own.

A second rider appeared from the direction Burke had traversed and the small party was joined, in turn, by the wraith-like being called Childermass. Seth followed suit of dismount, taking in the view of Aurore and Burke then joining Sterling.

"Ye may, in near future, regret this return to land....Or at least the choice of this landfall...." Cocking his head slightly to the right, Seth trained reptile gaze on the Captain as if measuring factors.

"Andre' has returned..."

[Capt. Sterling]

Once again excluded, Sterling allowed himself to be shut out and remained at a distance as Aurore walked off arm and arm with Burke. For a moment, he felt as if he were back in Algiers then shook off such bitter memories. So much for an answer he thought quietly to himself and decided it best to go to Meagan herself. He looked about and found her sitting upon a hay bale, tiny heels drumming against the packed hay as she waited upon the adults. He bent low before her until their foreheads came together and she began to giggle.

“So, Little Mistress,” Sterling whispered. The child blushed crimson at his address then began to giggle afresh. “Tell me does thou ride?”

Meagan tried to shake her head at first but when contact, that had been established with his silly bow, broke, she regretted it. Tiny hands came to gently settle about his neck and she pulled him close again.

“My lady has begun my lessons,” Meagan whispered in return. “But by my reckoning, I confess I can sit prettily enough but not much more.”

“Well enough,” Sterling replied. “I shall rent thee a horse for the journey and walk along side thee to keep thee safe and…” he paused, distracted as a second rider approached. “My pardons Little Mistress,” he whispered and carefully removed her hands from about his neck and straightened as Childermass dismounted, glanced over at Aurore and Burke then made his way to stand with the captain.

"Ye may, in near future, regret this return to land....Or at least the choice of this landfall...." Cocking his head slightly to the right, Seth trained reptile gaze on the Captain as if measuring factors.

"Andre' has returned..."

Sterling’s first reaction was to look upon his wife as she conducted herself still privately at a distance. His eyes lowered as good hand came to nurse exit wound beneath left arm.

“Ye sound as if the devil himself has been released from the Pit,” Sterling finally said with a bit of a sigh. He looked than at Childermass and shook his head with a shrug of his shoulders. “So I can only assume that this Andre` is naught but another means of trouble for me. I cannot imagine why as, for the life of me, I cannot even remember ever making the acquaintance of one with such a name.”

[Aurore Devareaux]

Childermass' arrival did not go unoticed by near far observers and as summary was brought to conclusion, Thief and Mistress approached with soft laid step.

“So I can only assume that this Andre` is nought but another means of trouble for me. I cannot imagine why as, for the life of me, I cannot even remember ever making the acquaintance of one with such a name.”

A hint of nervous amusement fleeted Devon's expression, but was quick to stifle as he halted two paces behind where Aurore drew standing. Her voice was low in reply to statement just issued by Husband, and was not without some tinge of unease.

"Andre' is my brother....My eldest surviving brother...." Her words faded as wisp of smoke captured then dispersed in evening breeze; her gaze steady upon Husband's back as body language was gauged carefully. Childermass could be seen just beyond Sterling's standing, expression guarded.

Burke stepped around on stealth refined tread, gathering Meagan to him, then took position further down the debrise strewn lane.

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling remained standing as unexpected news floated in response to his query. He had not expected it to come from her so that when he tried to comprehend what was being told him, he looked instead to Seth Childermass. The captain’s expression changed rapidly as his thoughts were battered about, from confusion to surprise to a hurt that took even the old soldier aback. Sterling collected himself, then, finally turned to face Aurore, truly not knowing what to think.

At first he could not say anything, he was like one that had not heard but his form betrayed him. He stood stiffly, at his full height, looking down at his wife, his arms slowly coming about no longer to nurse a bad wound nor to cross defiantly before him but as if to hug his own person for a bit of comfort. His good eye fixed on hers and a coldness shot through him forcing him to close his arms about him all the more tightly. His gaze never left hers as his face slowly lost its colour as he spoke.

“Ye lied to me,” he stated, slowly, quietly. And then as hurt piled upon disappointment, he turned abruptly away from her as his anger forced him to distance himself. He stormed the length of the stable, whirled about and made his way back, his voice now raised and undeniably laced with the anguish he felt.

“Ye damn well lied to me. Ye and Sabastian… lied…” As he closed the distance between them, Childermass threw his own arm across the captain’s chest, keeping Sterling at a place that would protect both he and his wife from any possible regretful actions.

[Ransom]

Professor Trilby pounded, kicked, then yanked open his front door, which revealed a scene of devastation. The street was a sea of mud in which floated the bodies of dead chickens, dogs, and cats. Roof-tiles, plank siding, broken furniture, and uprooted plants added to the tangle. A thick, noisome haze of steam hovered over the mess.

The barrel that had wedged itself against the door proved to be not the fine port Trilby was hoping for, but a small cask of pickled pigs trotters. Directly accross the street was a shattered wagon, broken wheels hub-deep in mud, it's dray horse still harnesseed to the load it had pulled until death. In a metalic wake, the wagon had spewed its cargo of pots, pans, iron hooks, and cutlery. Scavangers were already selecting their favorite items.

Trilby eyed a fine heavy stew pot and pointed. "Souris, grab that pot, quick now."

Souris slogged through the ankle-deep mud and snatched the pot just as an extreamly fat woman made an unbalanced grab for it, teettered, and fell on her well-padded posterior, heaving up a tidalwave of muck.

Taking the pot from his servant, Trilby grinned at the floundering woman. "Mayhap, Mistress Farley, if yea had nae eaten away sae much of your good husband'd provender, yea'd nae find yourself mired like a hog in a wallow."

Mistress Farley's reaction to this bit of sympathy, like any good fishwife, was to shatter the air with curses.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore took the stinging assult of her husband's aquisation, adopting an expression of neutral bearing to cover what damage flung verbal barb had accomplished. Large pools of liquid olive tincture followed after his stride as length of livery was negotiated then recrossed in return; observed the lightning reflex of Childermass calling halt to further progression, then to the sludge of ground below.

"Je ne mensonge..."

Her words, but a whisper, wove the humidity laden air.

[Capt. Sterling]

"Ye didn't?" Sterling continued. He looked down at the barrier Childermass placed before him and turned about once more, pacing back and forth but not daring to cross the line that had been erected by the other man.

"Then what do ye call it when I asked for consent to marry you and ye did not tell me there was another I needed to speak with? If there is an elder, Sabastian has no right to give ye away to me. Tis wrong and ye know it! My God Chere, how will I ever find a place in yer family now?"

[Aurore Devareaux]

Again the olive pools tracked his movement, pausing observation to take in Seth's carriage, then returning to her husband. As his damning continuity rolled forth and ended in query, Aurore spoke once more in quiet tone that laid into stone the truth that all others within mix matched clan were well aware of...

"Andre' would have never given consent....and will never accept you because you are Gadje..."