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Valentine Reminiscences       by Rebecca

February, 1802

Everyone agreed that it was a wonderful ball... everyone except me. The music was gay, waltzes were danced with abandon (given that the patronesses of Almacks were at the ball, and feeling fine from my uncle's champagne, nods were everywhere seen), and the guests all the most sought after in London. In fact, I would probably have rather enjoyed the crush if it were anywhere else - any *time* else - and if it were not *my* ball.

Thank heavens it was long over - a year over, as a matter of fact. And from that rough beginning: a ball that bored its honoree, something...intriguing had grown. My cousin, Kit Edrington (or to be more formal and give him his due), Colonel Christopher, the Lord Edrington, had arrived at my ball with a fellow officer in tow, and although this Captain Griffith and I were not pleased at Kit's stratagems to bring us together we had come to realize that Kit had indeed chosen well. David Griffith, Lord Wrexham, was just the kind of man I admired: he had a strong feeling of loyalty toward his family, was conscientious in completing what he saw his duty to be, and yet had been a military man until taking up his title upon his father's death: willing to risk his life for his country in the war with France.

This makes him sound like a prig - a boring, dull prig. But it doesn't mention the humor that glints in his gray eyes - gray eyes with a ring and flecks of gold, like an eclipse of the sun on a brilliant day. It doesn't mention his intelligence: free-ranging and willing to consider all sides of an argument. It doesn't mention his buff curls: the color of my dear Archie's, yet the texture of my dear Horatio's. And most of all, it doesn't mention his lean body, so well showcased in riding garb or formal wear, and so woefully hidden in his army uniform.

But little of these virtues were evident on the night we met. I was feeling low, and sorry for myself, and missing Horatio and Archie dreadfully. It was Valentines Day, I was alone, and all I could see were couples where ever I looked. Then, to make things worse, Kit's wife, Margaret, had come early for the ball. While I had become fairly comfortable with Kit, this was really the first chance that I had to spend any time with Margaret. She scared me. So contained, so beautiful, so... so in command, of herself and any situation. So different from me, or from any of the friends I had had at home, or those I knew now.

And to make matters even more confused, Margaret first offered me such friendship as I longed for, and then effectively booted me out of my funk. Rather than sympathizing with me, she told me to "Look for love yourself, or settle for attention. You are old enough to decide what you want, and to seek it out. That's why you came here to London, isn't it? You took a bold step, and now are whimpering in the corner. Standup, take another bold step. You may be surprised at what - or who - you find tonight."

I had looked up, my mouth open in surprise that someone would speak tome that way, particularly someone who had offered friendship.

"That's right, Anne," she had gone on. "If you are an adult, be an adult. No one can know your mind, or your wants, if you do not make them known. Besides, you do not know everyone who will attend tonight. There are always unexpected guests... friends of guests who come along, surprise visitors. Keep your eyes and mind open - you never know who you will find. After all, did you expect to meet Horatio and Archie in Jamaica? I doubt it. We all have this happen. It was not the first ball, nor the first week, nor even the first month that I met Kit. And when I did, I was ready to appreciate him. So calm yourself, go upstairs and cool your face, and see tonight as simply one more adventure. You will enjoy it much more, I promise."

I followed her advice, having nothing better to do, and found that she was right. Although I would not admit such that night. Kit and Archie, for the pair of them had planned this out in advance, were so insufferably smug that I was determined to not have any interest in David. Discussing it later, he too was annoyed by our match makers, and determined to stay away from me as well. But as is said, ' The best laid plans of mice and men often gang aglet,' and after a short time, I found David rather... attractive.

The evening of the ball had not begun auspiciously. My escort - a nephew of my aunt, namely, Sir John Feddowes, K. B., did nothing to raise my spirits. It is difficult to be merry when one's escort is prettier than oneself, but as my favorite cousins, Reg and Kit, had not yet arrived, it fell to Jack to escort me. We were not close, not nearly as close as I felt to Reg and Kit, yet when we waltzed, Jack held me more closely than was comfortable. Too, his gaze fell often to my decolletage... and I learned the wisdom of my father's ideas about my wardrobe. My gown did leave little to the imagination... and the front of Jack's breeches suggested that he was imagining with abandon. Then too, his hand seemed to slide from my waist down to my hip and even further, and it really would be indecorous for me to snarl at him as we danced at my ball.

I had never considered myself a beauty, particularly not in comparison with my closest friends from home: blue-eyed, golden-haired twins, but during my stay in London I had become uncomfortably familiar with the signs of... shall we say... amore?... in the young men I had met at homes of our friends, or at the opera. I had specifically traveled to London in order to meet a man who could become my husband, but had yet found not a one with whom I could remotely consider spending my life in such an intimate relationship. I suppose I continued to pine for Horatio. I had heard nothing of him since the news of his daring exploits with the Renown, and now there was daily news of a peace treaty to be signed with France. I had no idea where to seek him, or if he would be at all interested in being sought.

So I continued on, comparing every man I met with Horatio - and with my memories of Horatio, (which were probably even more exacting), and finding every one of those men lacking in important ways. This is not the best way to find a husband, to say the least. But all the candidates I met seemed to have such execrable flaws: ogling my bosom openly, attempting to touch me improperly, attempting to kiss me - with distasteful breath!, refusal to take me seriously, insistence on taking themselves too seriously, oh a whole litany of sins prevented me from being interested in anyone I had met, except my two favorite cousins, who were both off-limits to me. And yet, for all our closeness, neither was yet in attendance at my ball!

Reg and Kit had both promised to attend tonight: Reg promising to bring Archie Kennedy, a dear friend of both Kit and I with him; Kit promising mysteriously to bring me "something I would like" for Valentine's Day, but neither had yet arrived and this too was vexing to me. After all, what could possibly be more important than their cousin's ball? The final straw of the early evening was dancing with Philip Bonham who claimed friendship with Jack and Reg, but who was intolerably foxed, and who proceeded to try to kiss me on the dance floor! Thank heaven, Uncle had been routed from his precious card rooms by my aunt in time to see this, and cut in to finish the dance with me, thereby rescuing me from Philip's importunities.

I managed to remain calm during the remainder of the dance, but after Uncle and I had left the floor I made an excuse to return to my room - I think I said that my flounce was tearing, or some such unobjectionable thing - but I did not go to my room or summon Cat, my maid. Instead, I swept into the drawing room in a towering rage... well, no, to be truthful, I rather stomped into the drawing room with a masterful pout on my face. I was not in a pleasant humor, and at that moment, I did not care overmuch who was made aware of it.

So, into the drawing room I went, intending to slam the door behind me and throw a quiet tantrum of frustration and despair. But even that hope was stymied: the room was not empty as I had hoped, but occupied by Margaret, Countess Edrington, working at some of her interminable needlework while waiting for Kit to arrive. Here she was, and as a hostess, even a proxy hostess for my aunt, I knew that I must smooth my countenance, and hold my temper for another time.

"Cousin... are you well here? Shall I ring for a negus, or perhaps some champagne?" I asked.

She looked up sideways from her needlework, with a small smile. "Would you not rather ring for something to break, cousin?"

I laughed a little with surprise that she should see so clearly my desires. "Yes, I would. But of course, that would be improper. So, would a refreshment suffice?"

She moved her hoop aside, and leaned forward toward me. "No, when I am in a pet, a simple refreshment never suffices. Tell me, is there anything I can do to assist? A suitor to bring up to scratch, a cousin to keep away from you at the ball, a hiding place from the uproar?"

I had not expected this. They were offers I might have had from the twins, or made to them. An offer of friendship? I sat down across from her, and smiled tentatively, and she gave back a brilliant grin. "Well, could you perhaps invoke a suitor who was not an insipid fop? Oh, I wouldn't have to keep him - just to know that such men exist still would be enough for me."

Her eyes softened. "Yes, Kit has told me... quite a lot about your...voyage. Too, both Horatio and Archie have visited us before, and I know all three men write to one another. It is hard, I'm sure, to go from men such as Leftenants Hornblower and Kennedy, and even my lord, to those we see so often in society."

I was surprised, and said as much. "Do - do you feel the same way?"

Margaret laughed, and rocked back on the sofa. "Oh, my very dear! When one has known *men*, men who know that honor is more than looking good or being in the latest mode, men who take whatever action is needed in a situation, men who can be respected, why then those who are left here for us are sad seconds indeed. It is times like this that I am grateful to be long-married to my husband, and not be thrust out into the marriage mart."

"Yes, well I *am* thrust out into the marriage mart," as I leaned my forehead on the heel of my hand (a most ungenteel position, I'm sure) "and sometimes I wonder if I perhaps should have stayed in the islands if there were to be no men I could... respect, develop an attachment for here," and I waved my hand as if to indicate all of England in one swoop. "As a spinster, one place is much like another I would guess. But I thought that the men of the *Indefatigable* were typical, and that there would be more like them here in England. More fool I!" with a bitter laugh.

And that is when Margaret gave me her famous set-down, and shocked me into reconsidering my life. When I had spent my time recalling my dreams during the voyage to England... well, parts of them had been met: my wardrobe was certainly much more fashionable under my aunt's tutelage than under my father's, and while I was not an incomparable I did have a variety of suitors, but it all felt empty: empty of meaning, empty of joy, empty of life.

I had sometimes wondered... was it for this... this butterfly's existence that I had left my golden islands? Spending day after day recruiting my strength for the evening's activities, and then every evening spent playing the part of an empty-headed chit? Oh, for the days of planning and order... running the household, seeing to my younger sisters' guidance, evenings with friends before I had left home.

Or, more to the point, oh for the days aboard the *Enchante*, with Horatio and Archie... and with Claudette and Melissa. Even with Sarah, for Lud's sake - and that showed how low my spirits had sunk.

But after Margaret 'knocked me flat aback' as Archie would say, I realized that she was right: I had choices, I had control, I could have the life that I chose if I would but stir myself. When I came back downstairs, I had a new outlook, and a much cheerier expression that this time was not assumed but was real.

Upon my return, I was greeted by my cousin Jack whom I quickly sent to get me a cool drink, and then I wended my way to my aunt's side. My heart leapt when I saw two broad, blue backs standing with her - and when I arrived and it was Reg and Archie, I felt that my smile was large enough to have taken over the room. Reg kissed my cheek, while Archie took my hand and bowed over it. I laughed, and curtsied to my friends. Archie kept my hand, waving it toward the dance floor, and we waltzed around the ballroom, gaily twirling and spinning until I was short of breath. We moved out to the terrace - still cold with the end of winter, but in my heated state (both, I shall admit, from exertion and from Archie), most welcoming. Too, due to the weather, we were alone.

Archie had kept his arm around me, and I stretched up for a true welcoming kiss: the first from him in months. His tongue, warm and sleek, entered my mouth and increased the heat in my body. My hands snaked under his coat, pulling us closer together, crushing my breasts against his chest and allowing me to feel his hardening organ. We broke the kiss, and he laughed lightly.

"Well, Annie, is this for me, or am I the surrogate?" he asked, delicately kissing the tip of my nose.

"Oh, Arch! Both, I suppose. You know I love you - and how well I remember all of you!" said with a snuggle deeper into his arms "- but you're right. I *do* still long for Horatio." I rested my head against that delicate curve where his shoulder joined his chest and sighed. "I sit wrong? Would you rather I held myself aloof from you?"

His arms came about me to hold me and rock me. "No, dear, you know I love you as well - and my memories will tease me for a long time yet! -but I do not see us together forever any more than you do. 'T' would make life much more comfortable for both of us, I suspect, if we could!"

Now it was my turn to laugh, and once again I stretched up along that sturdy body, tasting champagne from his lips and cloves from his mouth, until I heard the terrace door behind us open.

Now it was my turn to laugh, and once again I stretched up along that sturdy body, tasting champagne from his lips and cloves from his mouth, until I heard the terrace door behind us open.

Quickly I moved away from Archie, hoping that in the dim light my cheeks would not appear quite as flushed as they felt. He grinned at me, quirking an eyebrow, and turned to greet Kit who had finally arrived.

Resplendent in his gold laced red coat and snowy breeches, Kit strolled forward to greet me, and it was only then I noticed that another soldier... another red coat... had come with him.

Kit began the formalities. "Cousin, I trust you are well in this chill. Do you not wish to go back inside?" he smiled at me while bowing politely. Only because I knew him well did I see the smirk in his eyes- and I could see that Archie saw it as well, although while I fumed at Kit's effrontery, Archie merely grinned at him with amusement.

"My Lord," Archie interjected, "Such a pleasure to see you again. But are you sure the army can get along without you?" And both men began to laugh, shaking hands and clapping each other on the shoulder like the old friends they were.

"I believe it will be fine while I attend Anne's ball. Of more concern is what will happen when I return to my regiment alone after the ball. "Kit turned slightly, including the other man in our group. "May I present Captain David Griffith? I hope you do not object to my bringing him to your ball, Anne, but David is leaving my regiment on the morrow, and I thought you would enjoy meeting him. David, my cousin, Miss Anne Spencer."

I looked him over carefully. Tall, taller than Archie, and darker as well, yet neither so tall nor so dark as Horatio. A polite smile, but... was that a look of disapproval in his eyes? Disapproval of what? Of Archie and I? Or just of his crashing the ball? Well, then
why was it directed at me? I curtsied to acknowledge the introduction, and then placed my hand on Archie's arm. "Mr. Kennedy, it is getting rather chilly here. Perhaps it is time for us all to go inside." As they had to, all three men acquiesced, and Archie and I led the way back into the ballroom.

I turned to Kit. "Cousin, is this dance ours? I confess to have lost my card - and lost count as well!"

Kit took my hand in his and smiled at me, saying "I believe it is, but I do not feel up to dancing at this time, so I will hand you over to Captain Griffith as my proxy."

I didn't know what to do. I did not want to be handed over to this...this mannequin who had the gall to give me silent disapproving looks on my own terrace, but could not find a tasteful way to avoid it. With as good a grace as I could summon, I held out my hand to Kit's friend, and was relieved to note that he took it with as much enthusiasm as I had offered. Well, one dance would be all, and I could certainly afford that much time to a friend of Kit.

I was at least pleased to note that Capt. Griffith was a good dancer: holding my hand and waist lightly, carefully keeping his eyes above my shoulders, guiding me with the least pressure. Yet he lacked... I don't know... conversation? Amiability? I attempted to start the talk, asking about his last posting, but received only polite monosyllables in return for my pains. Finally, in desperation, I began answering my own questions.

"Oh, Capt. Griffith, you dance so wonderfully! Tell me where ever did you learn? 'Why, Miss Spencer, thank you for the compliment. But it is you who raise my dancing to the sublime.' How kind in you to say sos ir, but I should not wonder at kindness in a friend of Lord Edrington.' True, he is the soul of amiability.'" And with that, he laughed, and actually looked at me.

"Is that a veiled comment on how I should hold up my end of the conversation? Hmmm?" he smiled at me, shaking his head slightly.

"Not so veiled, I would think. Now that we *are* talking, how come you to know Kit so well that he would bring you home?"

"We have become friends while I served under him. I shall be sad to leave the army - it has been a life that suited me well."

I studied his face carefully. Yes, he did look somewhat sad under that stolid veneer. "Then why must you? Certainly the army is an appropriate life for a gentleman, is it not?" I asked, curious.

"Oh most certainly, but my father has recently died, and I must manage the family estates and take up my place in the House of Lords. It is not quite so easy as for naval men, who may be given leave for a time, or for those who have younger brothers or uncles to help with the estates."

"I am sorry to hear about your father. I would not have teased, had I known your circumstances." I looked up at his face, and saw his eyes soften as they gazed down on me. His eyes were not as dark as I had thought - gray, with a golden rim and flecks giving them the illusion of a sky early morning when the stars still shone. His arms brought me in closer, although still maintaining propriety. I looked down and found myself studying the gold buttons on his coat, the buff facings and reveres, rather than carrying on the conversation I had initiated. Why? What was it that made me feel not quite comfortable looking at him closely?

Why should I feel disturbed by Capt. Griffith? This was not the same feeling of discomfort I had about Jack or even Philip, nor was it yet the pleasurable discomfort I had felt about Horatio and Archie. But whatever caused it, I was not pleased with it. I felt off-balance, as though I were dizzied, and it was difficult to draw breath without feeling that I was thrusting my breasts at him - and that thought both pleased and frightened me. I was pleased when the dance ended and I could return to my aunt and to familiar partners. Yet all evening, every time I chanced to look up, there was Capt. Griffith, moving easily about the room, talking with my friends, dancing with my friends, but always looking at me when I looked at him. I continued to feel uncomfortable, but I also began to feel powerful and could feel my energy and enthusiasm grow.

Finally, as the evening was winding down, Archie again sought me out for a dance, and looked at me quizzically. "Anne, I have not seen you in such good color since... well, for a very long time. Are you happier now?"

I smiled up at him, idiotically. "Yes, although I do not know why. Nothing has changed, but suddenly I feel... renewed." He smiled at me. "Archie, do you know why?" Now he laughed.

"Anne, the only thing that has changed since the last time we danced is that Kit brought Capt. Griffith to the ball. Now, do you suppose that*he* has anything to do with your mood?"

"No. Oh, no. No, he does not. I do not even enjoy his company, and I am sure I shall never see him again, and that is fine. No, it must be something else..."

Archie laughed again. He has always known me far too well for my peace of mind. "Annnnnnniiieee.... you're blushing," he sing-songed into my ear. I ducked my head, grinning. "Come now, I've spoken with him this evening. He seems a genuinely nice person, and he kept asking questions about you as well... although he denied any interest in you either."

"Blast Kit and his ideas!" I fumed, maintaining a social smile for the sake of those watching. "Why does he not leave well enough alone?" And with that, Archie again whirled us out the terrace door, ending by leaning back against the wall holding me loosely against him so that our hips gently touched.

"So tell me, how was it 'well enough' earlier? As I recall, you were lonely and bored, and we had agreed that we should not suit. So now, just because someone else cared enough to find this man to introduce to you, you believe that you can change everything in your life without any
help?"

But before I could respond to Archie, Capt. Griffith strolled out the doors, and greeted us. Again I felt my cheeks flush, but this time I also felt... arousal, much as Horatio had created in me aboard the*Enchante*. Again I felt that melting in my middle, a wetness between my legs, and a tightening of my breasts. Archie smirked at me, and when I dropped my head slightly I saw that my nipples were clearly visible through my silk gown. Carefully I placed my heel on his instep, and pushed as I walked over to invite Captain Griffith to join us - and Archie will still throw that step in my face when he wishes to tease me.

Archie let out a stifled yelp which he quickly converted to a cough, but Captain Griffith seemed not to notice and placed my hand on his arm, indicating that we should go in as my aunt was looking for me. Archie followed, wiggling his eyebrows at me whenever Captain Griffith could not see.

Aunt was surprised to see me (hmmm... had Captain Griffith simply brought me in of his own initiative? What could that signify?), although she immediately suggested I should dance with the Captain. This time he held me a little closer, more as Archie had, and I could see his muscles ripple in his legs when I looked down, and the strength of the column of this throat when I looked up. There was a fine line between the tan of his face, and the whiter skin of his neck, and a faint dark shadow where his beard had been removed earlier. Too, at this distance, I could smell... him. Sandalwood, cloves, and something I had come to associate with maleness. I breathed in, closing my eyes, only to be brought up short.

"Are you fatigued, Miss Spencer?" But when I looked up, the smile in his eyes matched the one in his voice. I was flustered, and lost my step in the dance. He firmly guided me back to the music, and quirked his eyebrows at me.

"Oh, no, simply thinking. Tell me more about your estates. When do you plan to arrive home, and where exactly is 'home'?" Every man, as far as I knew, could talk for hours about his home. Well, apparently Captain Griffith was not "every man."

"North-west of here, near the Welsh borders. I understand you are from Jamaica. What are the estates like there?"

I was surprised into giving a description of our plantation, then explaining how I came to be in London, and my acquaintance with Archie .Captain Griffith gave a satisfied smile after that - and I wondered how much of our conversation had been designed to ferret out information about Archie and I. Finally he did tell me about his home, although this was after the dance had ended and we were talking by the buffet tables. I suddenly realized that the pleasant conversation we were having did not seem odd to me at all when Archie and Kit went past us to the terrace, both smirking at us behind Captain Griffith's back.

I began once again to feel manipulated by my friends and family, and asked Captain Griffith if we could step out for a breath of fresh air, using the excuse of being from warm climes and appreciating cool breezes. When we arrived, Archie and Kit were just out of the light, and Kit's hand was stroking Archie's cheek while they held each other closely. Well, that answered one question from the past: Kit must have a similar relationship with Archie to the one Horatio had, and I suspected we had arrived just after a kiss to judge from their state of mutual dishevelment, and just a shade too early for a more... graphic show.

I stopped, folded my arms, and waited, tapping my toe much as I had on the quarter-deck of the *Enchante* before. It seems to be a valuable tactic, as Archie and Kit almost fell over themselves to welcome us to the terrace. I launched into my attack.

"Pray tell, gentlemen, just how long has this plan been in existence, and just who was involved in it?" Captain Griffith looked puzzled, and drew back from me slightly, as though I were a madwoman released from Bedlam. Archie and Kit, however, loudly and loquaciously protested their innocence and lack of knowledge. I waited further, and Archie suddenly stopped, laughed, and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Annie, dear, be a good sister and cousin to us now, and thank us for our present to you."

Before I could explode, however, Captain Griffith beat me to it. "Mr. Kennedy, Lord Edrington, I must protest. This is not a proper way to treat a lady - and not even a proper way to treat a gentleman! Had I known I was invited to be made sport of - while making sport of a lady, no less - I certainly would not have come! Excuse us, please."

He firmly took my arm, and we returned to the ballroom. David was most profuse in his apologies for his unwitting part in Kit and Archie's 'plot,' but I stopped him. "Captain, this may be unladylike to say so badly, but I have enjoyed meeting you and talking with you. While I am annoyed at my cousin and friend, it is annoyance with their attempts at secrecy, not with their choice. Unless you do not wish to further our acquaintance, you may wish to ask my aunt and uncle for permission to call."

David smiled slowly, nodding his head slightly as though to a voice in the back of his mind. "I would like to do so, but must remind you that I will not be long in town. As I said earlier, I must return home soon. But I will be back and forth at times, and I think I would like to further our acquaintance. I enjoyed your willingness to stand up for yourself with your friends, and even more your honesty with me. I confess to a driving curiosity about what you will do or say next!"

I laughed, and admitted that I frequently did not know what I would do next either, and we parted on good terms.

David did receive permission to call, and whenever he was in town was a frequent visitor at our house. He maintained a box at the opera, and organized parties to attend while being sure to be seated by me both at dinner and at the rail of his box. Each time we met, I found myself more and more attracted to him, yet I was never certain just how he felt for me. I could see his eyes darken at times... particularly when I wore just the right shade of lavender... and I sometimes felt that his hand might caress my waist as we danced, but in public he has remained the soul of propriety for this entire year. Alas, to my great dismay, so have I. I do not know what changed in me, but suddenly the strictures of society were no longer such a problem for me in public, and for whatever reason, I was content to let things between David and I drift until I realized how much time had gone by, and how much more was likely to go by unless things were changed.

My other suitors, those from before David as well as those I met after... well, they probably still exist; yes, I am certain that they do, for when David is away I do not lack for invitations and partners, but it is not the same as it was before my ball, and I suspect they feel the change too. But now I feel caught in a limbo - a state of suspended animation - and I do not know what to do about it. All I know is that I must do something, because this current lack of progress is intolerable. In an age when men are seen as those in control, those who make the choices and begin the relationship, why does it seem that it is always I who must begin? First Horatio, now David. Is it some flaw in my make up that drives me toward men who wait for me to take the initiative? Whatever the cause, David does not know what lies in wait for him when next we meet. However to be truthful, neither to do I!

This year there are differences though. Rather than being at home, preparing for the nightly rounds of gaiety, I am visiting Margaret at Edring Hall. After our conversation of last year, Margaret and I did become close friends much to my surprise. And I discovered that under her smooth veneer lay a woman as determined and forthright as I had always prided myself on being. Oh, there were times when one of us took one side of a particular situation and the other of us was opposed, but it never seemed to affect the basic respect and liking we had found for each other. Margaret sometimes laughed at the pair of us - we appeared to be polar opposites. She seemed taller than she was, although slender and fragile, with porcelain skin and smooth hair. I, on the other hand, have always been more ruddy-skinned, and my hair curls and waves... thank the heavens for the Greek-inspired fashion of loose curls tied back with a chiffon, for I misdoubt that a sleek chignon would ever appear on my head for even an instant!

Kit, on the other hand, as well as Aunt and Uncle, seems to feel that we are not so much opposites as twins, and they spend much of their time smiling at us and shaking their heads in dismay at our generally well-concealed antics: racing hired horses in the park wearing dominoes, sneaking out at night dressed in Kit's trousers to waylay another cousin as though we were footpads, visiting the theater with each other but no man to escort us - certainly not what would be expected of a sober matron and well-bred young lady, but also not *quite* out re enough to lace us beyond bounds of society. I suspect that it was a request from it that we vacate London and rusticate for a time that led the pair of us to remove to Edring Hall, rather than our own thought. Not that I minded in the least. Edring was a fine manor, large enough to host any gathering that might take Kit or Margaret's fancy, yet small enough to feel cozy when we curled on sofas to read in the evening, or to snuggle her three young ones before they slept.

And... as a final enticement... even its own hot spring, carefully tiled in and walled around as a hot bath house year 'round. Oh, the luxury! To soak up to our necks in perpetually hot water for as long as we liked as often as we liked! I misdoubted even King George having such luxury as we did at Edring Hall! We had formed the habit of soaking together in the afternoons, when the children were napping, and then dressing in finery to delight the children at dinner. True, there was a practical side to this: it prepared the children for the cutlery and manners they would need at table, but also it was as much fun as the dress-up games we played at home when I was a child.

Our afternoons, though, were peaceful and warm, with our hair piled upon our heads to keep it from the pool, leaning back against the cool tile sides watching the steam rise from the water, and talking of...what else?... men. It took me a while to become comfortable with soaking in the same tub as Margaret (even one so large as the pool), but eventually the peace and warmth and privacy, (thanks to a secure lock on the inside of the door), seduced me as well as it had her, and I grew to look forward to those times. It was almost as though resting, eyes closed in the heat and moisture, we no longer had to wear any masks and could be honest about many things that were not generally talked of in public. Margaret and Kit had been married for some great time by then, and after we became closer she confided that she was aware he sometimes took men to his bed, but never another woman. I was somewhat surprised by her frankness, but relieved as well for I could discuss Horatio and Archie with her without hiding any of our actions. I found her to be supportive, although she seemed puzzled that I had not more seriously pursued Horatio at the time, or Archie now.

Margaret's hand reached out to cover mine on the edge of the pool. "If you are certain that only Horatio and Archie will do for you, why do you not pursue them? Certainly I can't imagine them not caring for you!"

I sighed. "Therein lies the rub, to quote a famous bard. My father would never agree to a marriage with Horatio: he has not the expectations or connections necessary. And Horatio will not go against my father's wishes. We have discussed it more than once. Archie... It could work, I suppose. I do love him, and I know he loves me - but as brother and sister, or close cousins. He deserves someone to love him... the way I feel - felt - oh I don't know! - about Horatio. Besides, both love the sea. And I could not be content with my husband gone."

"So, you must needs become Pygmalion, and sculpt a man with their strengths to be here with you, is that it?"

"If I could... oh, if I could!" I sighed and wiped the sweat from my brow, pushing my hair off my forehead.

"Or... what of David? Does he not meet most... if not all... of your standards?"

"You know that he does, Margaret," and I splashed her lightly, "but he seems content to just escort me in town, and leave things as they are. It has been a year since we met, and all I have received from him is a chaste kiss on the forehead! Sometimes I imagine that he is attracted to me, that maybe he will declare himself, yet he never does. Worse, he never takes himself out of the running either! Uncle says that he probably believes I am yet too young for a serious attachment, and that I should simply wait for him to realize otherwise."

Margaret rose dripping from the pool, and wrapped a large towel about herself as she combed her hair out smooth. "And he is a tempting piece of manhood with a good wit. Have you found no way to bring him up to scratch?"

I sighed. "I have considered hiding in his carriage, sneaking into his room, simply throwing myself into his arms, but just *once* in my life, I would like the man to take the initiative."

"Then what are you going to do to bring it about? I would think that if he has not acted yet, he is not likely to do so without a push of some kind."

I tilted my head back against the edge of the pool, and stretched out my legs in the water, floating just under the surface, supported by my neck. "That I have not yet decided. But I will do something the next time we meet - that I promise you. I t is so frustrating - David *says*that he values my counsel, *says* that he enjoys dancing with me, *says*that if he can't escort me to a ball he will not attend, but then never*says* anything else - or does anything either!" I sighed again with frustration. "I suppose I, too, must get out now?"

She smiled at me. "No, not unless you wish to. I need to see Cook about dinner... Kit generally tries to be home on Valentines Day, and I wish to be certain his favorite meal is prepared just in case he arrives unexpectedly. If you wish to soak longer, feel free to do so. You won't need to dress for a while yet."

Margaret dressed, and then quietly left the pool house. I remained comfortably floating, and probably drowsed a little in the warmth before rising to dry myself and dress as well. I had no sooner wrapped one of the huge, fluffy towels kept piled for our use around my hips when I heard heavy footsteps in the passageway connecting the main house to the pool house, and I tossed another towel over my shoulders as a cape. Margaret? No, the footsteps were heavier, louder... who could it be, and why was door unlocked? Closer footsteps... it was Archie and Kit -whatever were they doing here, and had Margaret left the door unlocked?!?

"Cousin - Archie - what...?"

Kit flushed a bit, apparently as surprised to see me as I was to see them, but Archie came over to me to give me a kiss of hello, and his lips warmed as the kiss went on. When we broke the contact, smiling at each other, Kit raised an eyebrow and joined us, slowly undoing his coat buttons and cravat.

"Well, Anne, would you care to join us in the pool?" I hit him. It was the only thing to do, and I was sure as I did it that Margaret would not mind. Unfortunately, I must have caught him at just the proper angle, because he fell into the pool while still fully clothed, right down to his gleaming Hessian boots with gold tassels! Archie shouted with laughter while Kit came sputtering back up from the water, blowing like an irritated whale and glaring at me. I tried to hide my laughter behind my hands, but could only clutch my towels and roar until tears came from my eyes. It was not until Kit began to climb dripping out of the pool that I realized my danger, and fled up the passageway leaving wet footprints as I ran. I could hear more laughter coming from the pool house behind me, then a pair of loud splashes - and almost turned around to see just what those boys were up to - but feeling that in this case, discretion was the better part of valor, I continued to my room at a more leisurely pace.

Once there, my mood was unaccountably lightened, but then, knowing that Archie was near always had that effect on me. As Cat brushed the tangles out of my curls, I asked if the backstairs were aware that Lord Edrington had arrived.

"Oh, yes, Miss. He and Mr. Kennedy rode up just a short while ago, but Lady Edrington told them to go and wash before they destroyed her furniture. Did you meet them on the way back from the pool house?"

"Almost. I just wanted to be certain Margaret knew they were home. She was concerned earlier that Cook might not have the proper dinner on hand if Kit arrived unexpectedly - and I certainly never expected Archie to be here!"

We rose, and she began to help me into my clothes for the evening.

"I heard there will be more company too, Miss, but only the butler and maybe Lady Edrington's maid know who or how many." Cat was fascinated by the social gatherings held by Kit and Margaret, and even Aunt and Uncle in London. I had thought we were a frivolous people in Jamaica: partying all night, traveling long distances to attend a dance; but even I was astounded by the sheer amount of ways and places to laze away time in England.

"Then please make sure that my gowns are brushed and aired for dinner and dancing, oh, and the green habit in case we get together a riding party. Do you know how many covers have been set for dinner tonight?"

"Only four - Lady Edrington has claimed an adult table tonight, so Lord Edrington is visiting in the nursery before dinner."

I hoped that he had dried himself thoroughly before he attended his children: one set of wet footprints in the house a day was enough. Dressed, coiffed, perfumed, I went down to the large salon to wait for dinner. Archie was there before me: dried, fluffed and beautiful (how do men accomplish that feat so quickly?), enjoying a glass of wine and leafing through one of Kit's volumes of Shakespeare, but he smiled and closed the book at my arrival.

"Anne, I'm so glad to see you again - and looking so well! Visiting with Margaret must agree with you!"

I laughed. "It agrees with me far better than being scolded by Aunt or Uncle for our frolics in London, although I do miss staying with them. I did not expect you to be here - do you have much leave? How long will the *Indy* be in port, and which port is she in?"

"The *Indy* is at Portsmouth, but I have been detached from her. Instead, I'll be working under Harvey at the dockyards - you have no doubt heard he was transferred back here from Gib? - and learning the ins and outs of maintaining the navy."

I had to pause. "Is... is this all right with you? No, that's the wrong way to put it. Is this a post that excites you, that interests you, that you are pleased with?"

He smiled tenderly for my concern. "Generally speaking, yes. We all knew that I would not remain on the *Indy* forever, especially not once I made Leftenant. And I find that the challenge of keeping up with all the ships and their modifications and their needs is fascinating work. Too, there are several experimental ships being built (and no, I will not divulge our secrets to even you, missy), and I will be able to take them out on trials. All in all, it is not a bad assignment, although I will always miss so many from the *Indy*: Horatio, Captain Pellew, Joss Bracegirdle, even Richards and Styles with their interminable pranks. But at least in the dockyard I will still be able to see all of them whenever they are in port."

I perched on the arm of his chair. "It will be difficult for me to think of you being ashore. I have become so used to seeing you on the quarter-deck... to imagining you atop the masts watching the horizon...but does this mean that we will at last see more of you?"

"How much more would you like to see?" and he quickly pulled me over into his lap, pretending to growl and devour my neck. I shrieked and giggled, and pushed ineffectually at his shoulders, squirming (to getaway or have him hold me closer? I know not) as mightily as I could, when I heard a gruff throat clearing from the doorway.

We froze, and I looked around to see David, standing there disapprovingly, flanked by Margaret with her hands covering her mouth, and Kit looking smug. (Do you know, I think I may have been beginning to hate him - cousin or no. Fortunately for Margaret and I, however, eventually we fell back on a more even footing).

At that moment though, we all stopped, as in a tableau of ice, until the first of us regained composure. It was David, and he bowed silently to Margaret, his jaw working and his fists clenching, and then turned to leave. I erupted off Archie's lap, shouting "Stop!" and he turned to gaze coolly at me.

"Just where do you think you are going?" I asked, my arms akimbo, righteous indignation in my tone, and I'm certain, steam coming out my ears.

"Miss Spencer, I do not believe that that information has anything to do with you." His voice and face were as cold as mine were hot.

"No, it probably doesn't, and that fact *certainly* also has nothing to do with me, as I am just a 'chit from the school room.' Correct, *Lord* Wrexham?"

"Anne, you are too young to..." and with that, Archie, Kit, and Margaret burst out laughing. David seemed puzzled as well as frustrated. "What is so entertaining? Certainly not this... this... situation!"

Margaret placed a warm hand on David's sleeve and wiped her eyes. "No, David, you are correct, it is not entertaining now. But I suspect in a few years time, we will all find memories of this evening to be great fun. Please, come sit down, let me ring for some brandy although it is still before dinner, and we shall see what we can sort out of this melange."

He seemed unwilling to go along with her suggestion, but I have never known David to be churlish, and refusing Margaret's request would have been nothing but churlish. David did choose to sit as far from Archie's chair as possible, while Margaret waved me to a sofa with her and Kit leaned on the back of David's chair.

Margaret gave Archie a speaking look, and he flushed and looked down. "Lord Wrexham," he began, "I am sure you have misconstrued the scene..."and David once more erupted in anger.

"Misconstrued? How can you say I '*misconstrue*' when a person I believed to be a gently-bred, well-brought up young lady is found sprawling across your legs in a private room? What is there to misconstrue? Clearly, neither she nor you is the person I took you for!" And with the air of a man who has discovered a card sharp in his exclusive club, David sat back in his chair, folded *his* arms across his chest, and gave us a look that dared us to deny his accusation.

Clearly, we had to. But also clearly, David was not ready or willing to listen to either Archie or I. Thankful I was that Margaret stepped into the breach with her sound reasoning. " David, no one faults your description, only your interpretation. Will you give me leave to make some explanations?"

"In the name of the friendship your husband and I bear each other, I must hear your explanations, Lady Edrington, but I warn you, Madame, I do not accept excuses - particularly not regarding loose behavior."

Now it was my turn to erupt. Had I once said that David was not a prig? How wrong I had been! "You pompous... ASS!" I shouted, coming off the sofa with a bound. "Who gave you the right to pass judgment on my behavior? Who gave you guardianship of my life? How dare you assume the worst of one of my best friends - a man who saved me from certain defilement - without attempting to understand the situation?"

"I find it difficult to conceive that Mr. Kennedy has saved you from defilement. Rather, it appears that he is planning to defile you himself. As to the right to pass judgment, and guardianship of your life, I have just returned from Lord Jarvis', with his consent to ask for your hand in marriage, which gives me those rights."

The room fell silent. None of us knew what to say. Again, Margaret stepped in to take charge. "My Lord, Mr. Kennedy, I think it best that we leave Lord Wrexham and Miss Spencer alone for a time." She herded Kit and Archie from the salon, sneaking me a smile and wink as they left. I was heartened by those gestures, and oh, did I ever require heartening at that time!

"Well, Miss Spencer?" Oooohhh, how unfair of him to use my stratagems! There he stood, chin up, arms folded, tapping his toe, much as I had ont he terrace the night we met! I felt nothing more than despair, and an almost driving need to humble myself to him, but then I remembered some of what I had learned from Claudette and Melissa at home, and from Margaret here. Abasement? Humility? Then I must always be humble and meek. No, better to let David see what he truly was getting into with me, and so I shrugged, raised my eyebrows, and provocatively sipped from Kit's abandoned brandy silently, implying that David must begin this dog and pony show.

He did.

"How have you managed to pass yourself off as a proper young lady for so long in society, Miss Spencer? Or is your failure the reason you are rusticating here in the country?"

I waited, carefully taking a deep, calming breath before replying." Again, your interpretation of what you saw is at fault. Archie was teasing me, much as a brother might. Nothing more. For you to imply there is more between us than such sibling affection is... just wrong."

"Yes... I recall Mr. Kennedy referring to you as his 'sister' the night we met. But now I see this is not the case, and is merely a screen for a mesalliance."

"He is not my brother in the legal sense. But Archie stands to me as the brother I have never had - and you, I know, tease and harass your younger sisters in no more genteel a fashion than he does. Think you, Lord Wrexham, if there were anything more to this, would not Archie have acted already? You know his father is an earl; you know he has 500pounds per year from the Funds; you know we are acquaintances of longstanding. There would be no problem gaining consent *if we desired to do so*, and if we were simply acting from lack of morals, there is no doubt everyone would know it by now simply from the state of my waist.">From his face, I doubt David had considered that point!

"But that does not explain..."

"No - and so far I have not seen a reason to explain. You have had a year to know your mind. You have had a year to act. You have done*nothing*. I have had more heat from idle dance partners at balls, more desire from men newly met, more attempts to curry favor with me from younger brothers of girls I know. If you cared, if you wanted to fix my interest, you had a year in which to do so. Do not now come to me and chastise me for not knowing what was in your mind - I am no gypsy reading tea leaves. Tell me what you want, and perhaps, if it is what I want, we will talk." Brave words. I was thankful for my velvet gown: David could not see my knees trembling, or the fear sweat running down my body. What would he choose to do? Had I played it too broadly? Was he so offended by my behavior that he would leave? And if he did, should it matter to me: how could I live with such a prig, well though he usually hid his proclivities?

"Anne, you are too young yet to know your own mind. And far too young, certainly, to understand the ramifications of your actions... your roistering about town with Lady Edrington, your allowing Mr. Kennedy to hold you, or even to be with you unchaperoned - you know not what you do!"

"Which is it, David? Am I a misguided innocent, or an amoral wench? You cannot have it both ways. As to my age, you mistake years for experience. My mother died when I was but twelve - and I became the mistress of the house at that time. I entertained for my father, kept the household accounts, supervised the staff of the house and grounds, and was responsible for engaging and supervising nannies and governesses for my sisters. No one in Jamaica thought I was too young to do this. At seventeen I came almost half-way around the world to find a man I could make a life with. I did this alone - I left the only family I knew to come to a family I had never met - and found myself in the middle of a mutiny." I became more angry by the moment. How dare he make assumptions about my life before he knew me?

"Have you ever been in a mutiny, David? It sounds romantic and thrilling, but instead is terrifying. How much have you heard of this from Kit? Did he tell you how three of us barricaded ourselves behind sea chests to keep the crew from raping us? You see, they had been promised they could have us if only they overthrew their lawful captain. We stayed there for a day and a night, with no outside supplies, no assistance, no idea if we would be kept or killed, until Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Hornblower noticed something amiss and Captain Pellew sent men to retake control of the *Enchante*. I f Mr. Kennedy wanted my virtue in return for saving my life, all he had to do was ask- and be dammned to you or anyone else who thinks giving it to him would be wrong!"  Now I had truly worked up a head of steam, and was charging ahead. I think I recall David starting to say something, but I gave him no chance.

"But he didn't - because he *is* a gentleman. Archie Kennedy has never asked for anything from me because he loves me as a sister." At least David had the grace to look abashed. I continued.

"When we arrived in London, I built a new life. Did I miss my saviors, Horatio and Archie? Of course. But I have never allowed any man in London to take what he should not. The cruel irony is, of course, that the one man with whom I would have, I think, enjoyed taking liberties, has done nothing for a year, and now reproaches me for an innocent game." Direct hit! Come about, and fire again!

"And do not think to compare me with your sisters, David. They are nice girls, and I know Susan is nineteen, my age. But your sisters are yet girls, and I am a woman. When you are ready to acknowledge that, I will be ready to hear you." I swept from the salon, and stopped in the foyer, unsure what to do next. It was a dramatic exit, and I had no doubt that David would either reflect and find me, or walk out of my life forever, but I had no notion of what *I* should do now.

Margaret must have heard the salon door close, because she came out of the library across the hall and put her arms around me. Suddenly I felt weak, and teary, and I collapsed in her arms with my head buried on her shoulder.

"Now, sweet," she crooned, much as she did for her daughter, "come on, let's go get you some rest," and she began to move me toward the stairs. I raised my head, and began to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. I think now I must have been hysterical, for I could not stop laughing, even to explain just what was so ridiculous at that moment. Margaret must have changed her mind about getting me upstairs, for instead she led me through the passageway to the pool room, and helped me to undress and get into the pool. The heat was a shock at first, but I felt the lethargy slowly creep through my blood and relax my muscles until my breaths no longer shuddered through my whole body. Margaret gently rubbed my shoulders, still murmuring endearments, until finally, with a huge sigh, I slumped back against the side of the pool and held her hands.

"Thank you, Margaret. Thank you so much." I was tired, I wanted very little more than to simply rest, sleep, until everything had been decided and completed. I wanted no more emotion, no more energy.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Her eyes were troubled, and there was a furrow in her brow... Margaret, although not party to the original plot to bring David and I together, knew both of us and had supported Kit and Archie's hopes of a match. To watch the disintegration of our pairing was painful for her as well as for myself.

"There is not much to say... and nothing that I let him say. I reiterated that Archie was not behaving improperly toward me - he was teasing a sister. I reminded him that my age does not limit my experience or maturity - and that he has had time to make things plain between us, but not chosen to do so. Then I left. I don't know what he will do, and I am too tired to care at this moment."

She knelt by the edge of the pool for a moment. "Anne, I will send someone to be with you, and to bring more towels. It appears that Kit and Archie have used the last of those we brought earlier. I do not know if Cat is still awake, but you should not be alone and I cannot leave my other guests. After you are finished, I'll have a light dinner sent up to your room." Margaret gave my shoulder a last pat, stood, and disappeared up the passageway.

I gave another deep sigh, and pushed myself up to sit against the side of the pool, rather than lay in it. Although I loved to drowse lightly in the heated water, I knew that tonight I was too exhausted by all oft he evening's emotions to stretch out in the water as I best loved unless someone was there to keep me awake. But I did stretch an arm out of the water along the rim, and lay my head against it, moving around so that the water piped from the spring rained down on my back with a soothing thunder. The sound, so rhythmic, pounded within my bones and through my blood, emerging as my heartbeat, and soon I could hear nothing over the sound of the water and my body.

That, I suppose, was why I did not hear footsteps approaching.

If I had thought at all, particularly from her comments, I had thought that Margaret would send Cat to me. Instead, it was David carrying a stack of fluffy towels, moving down the passageway on bare feet and in his shirt and trousers. I don't think he expected to find me there, for when he came around the corner of the entry and we were suddenly face to face, it was difficult to tell who was the most surprised.

"David..." I wondered if I had indeed fallen asleep, and was dreaming this visitation. But no, in a dream, he would not stand stock still staring at me as though I were a viper about to coil and spring. No, in a dream he would tenderly lift me from the pool and carefully dry me before laying down with me to hold me gently through the night. Instead, he went white to the gills, dropped the stack of towels and turned as to stride back up the passageway.

"David - stop. This needs to be finished, and we may as well do it now." My voice was tired and hoarse, but I was done with waiting and wondering. He did stop, but remained nearer the door than the pool.

"It is not proper. Should your guardian, or your father, or worse yet, society, hear of this, you will be ostracized." His voice too was hoarse, although I did not recall seeing fatigue on his face. "How could Lady Edrington have sent me here, with you in the pool...?"

I broke in, not wanting to hear what I suspected was coming next. " And if I am to be ostracized, what of it? I have met only two men that I would be content to marry, and you are one of them. If I am ostracized, I shall go home and be a spinster aunt to my sisters' children." I pulled myself along the pool rim away from the inlet pipe, and turned to lean my arms along the rim, leaning my chin on my crossed arms and pressing my breasts into the side as I lay curled along the floor of the shallow edge of the pool. " You can no longer see much of what you should not, David. Turn around, and let us finish, or leave and let us be finished in that manner."

He turned finally, and moved closer to the pool although still keeping us out of reach of each other. He sat carefully on the stack of towels, and we each looked carefully at the other. He looked drawn, aged, and infinitely troubled. He also looked as though I should immediately be up and about comforting him: cosseting him, rubbing his shoulders, sneaking kisses on his neck and face, smoothing his fine lawn shirt across the smooth muscles of his torso, drawing it snug across his chest to find those enticing nipples that I knew must be hiding from me...what he saw I do not know, for he has never told me, but his eyes darkened and moved across my lips and down my arms, back up to follow my hair, falling down around my shoulders, and finally along to where my hip floated nearer the surface of the water. His mouth opened slightly and his neck moved as he swallowed hard, and suddenly some of the moistness on my face and arms was a sheen of sweat from arousal rather than from the heat of the pool.

I dipped my hand into the pool, and lightly splashed the water across my face, shaking my head to remove the droplets and cool my skin with evaporation. His eyes darkened further - black pupils, rimmed with that gold edge of his iris, and I could smell the arousal of his member, and see it beginning to bulge as he shifted his position on the none-too-steady seat of towels.

"Anne, you can act thus, and still maintain your innocence? You should be on the stage at Drury Lane if this is but a sample of your skills!"

"If I couldn't see how upset you are this evening, I would take insult from that David. But I see no reason to pretend that you do not arouse me, and that I do not think of your hands and your lips and your body, and having them on mine - again and again. Still, I have given nothing to Archie that should have been saved for you," and this was true, although probably not in the way David would hear it. "Please, tell mew hat you want me to know of your intentions and feelings."

He gave a long sigh, and shook his head, looking down at his long pale feet on the slate floor. "Anne, when we met I was so impressed by you -so beautiful, so easy with so many, and yet so... untouched. All this year, I have thought about you - pictured you at Wrexham, riding with me, walking with me, yes, even to seeing you wake in my bed, and I have so enjoyed being with you in town - but Anne, I am 28 years old. How could I declare myself when you were so young? It would cause ribald jokes - 'old Lord Wrexham got himself a young one to bring up right' -how could I do that to you? Now at least you are 19 - still young, but old enough for a betrothal where we could get to know each other more closely, and perhaps in a year or two, a marriage. But now, after this evening, I fear that you may be too old for me to 'bring up right,' and I do not know what to do."

Now it was my turn to sigh. "David... I swear by whatever you wish that Archie had no carnal thoughts about me. It was only teasing, perhaps coarse by your standards, but no more than that. Your age? You think too much of it. If you were perhaps 71 as the Marquis Ashton, or in your late 50's as Sir James Adams, then it might be a problem. You are28. That is not such a great difference. I too was impressed by you when we met, and I have longed for you to be at least a small amount improper with me - to let me taste your lips, to feel your arms holding me even a little closer when we dance - yet I have never been able to decipher your feelings. Did you care for me? Was I simply a convenient surrogate for someone else? I could not tell, and you would not. As for now, I suspect Margaret hopes something may yet be salvaged of us, and that may well be why she sent you here in your shirt."

"She may hope all she likes, but at least I did not mention that you were 'one of two I would be content to marry.' Do you not think you should explain that remark?"

Oh, the vanity of men! Did he actually believe that stars fell from the heavens when I met him, and that I would wait for him forever? "Yes, I probably should make an explanation. Lt. Horatio Hornblower is the other man I would have been content to marry, but he would not consider asking for my hand as he has no title and no expectations. He was most punctilious about refusing to take liberties that should be saved for whomever I would marry, and I have not seen him since the day I came ashore in 1800. If anything, meeting Horatio and caring about him made me more ready for you: it taught me that accepting anything less than an honorable, lusty man who cares for me rather than my lineage or dowry would be an injustice to us all. Were it not for that lesson, no doubt I would have married some fop soon after my arrival and been a stolid matron when Kit brought you home. The question is, at least in my mind, can you accept knowing that I am not some simpering schoolroom miss you can raise up as you wish, but a woman with her own mind and will, who is bending it on you with full intent?"

He looked up and smiled. "Anne, sometimes you scare me." I smiled back, because in his eyes I saw dawning acceptance and respect, and quipped "Kit says that keeps life entertaining."

Now he laughed, tossing his head back with relief that I was not going to take out after him once again. "But Anne, I am most certainly *not*interested in allowing you to 'rule the roost,' as is said on the farms. If we should agree to marry, you will not be in a position to dominate the household."

"As long as you do not place yourself in a position to dominate the household either, I find that very fair. Is there any reason we should not be able to work together?" And he knelt by the edge of the pool, taking my hands in his, running his eyes avidly over my body in the pool, "Yes. I don't know if I can keep my hands off you - now or ever." I tugged his hands gently, and whispered "Join me," moving back slightly to put tension on his arms, but he only shook his head and remained kneeling at the edge of the pool.

I swallowed, and looked up into his face, and then made my decision. If he would not come to me, I must go to him. I stood, letting the water sheet off me in glistening falls and stepped out onto the floor. "David, dry me please," I whispered, moving close to him.

He picked up one of the towels, and began by gently drying my face and neck, moving along my arms with a soft, warm friction. As he finished my fingers, I placed my hands on either side of his jaw, and pulled his face close to mine, meeting his lips softly. I drew my tongue along the seam of his mouth, and he groaned, pulling me tightly to him and taking my tongue deep into his mouth as his kiss bent my neck back. The towel dropped from between us, and his now wet clothing molded to his body as I sought to learn the shape and feel of him, groping with my hands to measure his back and hips and arms.

His hands explored my water-slicked back from neck to thighs, leaving me moaning and shivering, and then slid between us to make the return journey. When they reached my breasts I arched back, and his lips shifted to warm my nipples, puckered from the chill air. I tangled my hands in his hair momentarily, but I wanted so badly to feel his skin against mine, to warm it with my breath, that I began to frantically tug at his shirt to pull it from his waistband and gain access to his body, but to no avail. He seemed to wake from a dream, and stepped back from me with a smile.

"Anne... I do love you, I do intend to marry you, and I will not have our marriage begin on the floor of Lord Edrington's pool house." He picked up a new towel, and continued to dry me, tenderly drawing it about my body, and checking for dryness with his lips. I tried to standstill, but his lips along my thighs... across my belly... behind my knees... I shuddered and shivered, trying not to groan but unable to keep it all inside; wanting to pull him down to the floor with me, to taste him as he tasted me, but yet in some part of my mind, respecting his intent to wait and take me honorably in marriage.

Honorably.

Well, I had better explain a little more about Horatio, hadn't I?

"David? There is one thing more you should know before make this choice... Everything I have told you is true, yet it is not the whole truth. I do not come to you untouched, but neither Archie nor the mutineers are responsible for that. I alone am."

He drew back from me, puzzled. "Anne, how can you alone be responsible? Either you know less than you think you do, or someone else was involved."

"Oh, yes, someone else was involved, but I take full responsibility. There was a night aboard the *Enchante* when Horatio and I were alone, and although he insisted that he did not wish to... compromise me, yet we were both aroused and I brought his member into me. It was once and never again, and no child was created, but you have the right to know, and to say if you wish to withdraw from me now."

"Was this after the mutiny?" "Yes. Things were still unsettled, but in general, the mutiny had been
quelled at that time."

"I cannot say I approve, I cannot say I like it, I cannot say I am easy with it, but I also cannot say it was wrong. In unsettled times, unsettling things occur. But Anne, do not think that I will ever support your life becoming unsettled to that degree again." He drew me back into the circle of his arms, careful to keep the towel between us although his hands again explored my skin minutely, transferring their heat to my now cooling body, and then he moved me back a step. "Now, find your corset. We must get you dressed, and then we shall tell Kit that Margaret is far better at match making than he, so that perhaps we may eat our dinner in peace while they make sparks fly over that debate."

And so we did, and they did.

David and I became betrothed that night, and Kit sent a messenger to tell Uncle that I had accepted. The evening passed with an air of jollity that none of us had anticipated earlier on, and other than Archie's feigned pouting at being the odd man out in our 5-some, nothing discouraging occurred. Kit called in a footman whom he knew played the violin at country dances, and took the 'cello portion himself, allowing Margaret, Archie, David and I our own private ball to celebrate our betrothal before we all went up to bed: three of us to separate rooms. But for the period of our engagement, David did not remain so stand-offish. Oh, never again were we in the pool room together, but his lips and his hands were certainly more in evidence than they had been before, and I began to find myself waking from dreams of being loved by David, rather than Horatio. I twitted him on his new-found amorousness, and he insisted (and still insists today!) that it was to keep me busy, and prevent me from haring off to London with Margaret again to terrorize the family.

Of course the lawyers took over once Uncle knew of the betrothal, and drew up settlements covering this contingency and that, but David and I had already privately agreed on the most important point for us: that although we would like to carry on our tradition of meeting on Valentine's Day, becoming betrothed on Valentine's Day, to marrying on Valentine's Day, neither one of us was willing to wait. Wait a year? A whole year? But our first choice, obtaining a special license and being married as soon as we were back in town was vetoed by Margaret and my aunt as implying an unseemly need for haste. Then too, David remained only partially convinced on the wisdom of taking a wife not yet 20 years old. So instead of all our other choices, on the day after my 20thbirthday, in November, we were wed with Kit and Margaret standing as witnesses . Oh it was an unconventional wedding - whoever heard of a woman standing as a witness? But then, who could stand against Countess Edrington?  Not even my David, Lord Wrexham!

End