"Come," Edward responded, to the soft knock at the study door.

"Sir, Mr Cooper to see you."

Edward removed his glasses. With his free hand, he rubbed his forehead and sighed. After the events of the previous day, he was not prepared for the likes of his curate, Mr Cooper. "Best to see him and be done with it," Edward mumbled to himself. He hurriedly replaced his spectacles and finished a sentence he was crafting for his Sunday sermon.

"Sir?" said Graham.

"Uh ... show him in, please, Mrs Graham." Standing, he received the curate.

"Rector, I came as soon as I thought it was decent!" Mr Cooper declared. "It was such a shock to hear of of Mrs Wentworth's indisposal! I certainly hope nothing has gone terribly wrong -- but with her age, it could only be expected," the reedy fellow said, in his usual, oversolicitious tone.

Indicating a chair, Edward said, "Uh, yes ... I suppose. Thank you for your concern, but Mrs Wentworth is quite well now." He noticed that Cooper's smile faded slightly, but in an instant was back to its characteristic intensity.

"Good! Mrs Cooper will be so relieved. She was nearly sick with worry when she heard. The worry was so intense that she poured out all her anxiety into the making of a blanc mange, which she sent with me... ."

"Please, thank Mrs Cooper for us, I am certain that Mrs Wentworth will appreciate it very much." Since Mrs Cooper was the daughter of a wealthy landowner near Woolverhampton, Edward had doubts about her abilities in the kitchen. He had no doubts that there was a blanc mange, the only question was by whose hand it was created. Knowing Cooper and his penchant for calculation, it could very well have been he pouring out his anxiety in the kitchen! Standing the Rector extended his hand and said, "It was very kind of you to come to inquire about my wife... "

Cooper also came to his feet. "To be truthful, Rector, there are other matters that I feel the need to discuss." With his face taking on a grave aspect, Cooper folded his hands before him, and awaited the Rector's response.

Edward again sighed. Motioning for Cooper to return to his former place, the Rector returned to his own chair. "And what matters might we need to discuss, Mr Cooper?" Edward could discern not a hint from the man's demeanor and so had no idea what might be on the mind of his curate. Whatever might be, the Rector knew it would somehow work to further the curate's own position -- as had everything else in the past.

"Henrietta will love this!" Louisa stood near the window, and though the day was dreary, she could still admire the cut crystal vase. "It will look so well in the cottage. Everyone who comes to visit the cottage will think it just the thing!"

Frederick looked up and smiled. While he was simpler in his tastes when it came to these things, he had to agree that it was a lovely piece and would, no doubt, be cherished immediately upon its bestowal upon the bride. Louisa had taken nearly an hour buying the vase to celebrate her sister's marriage to Charles Hayter, but he suspected that her true fascination with it came from the fact that he had had little -- nay, nothing to do with its purchase. She had bought it with her own money.

Having spent the morning in Crown Hill arranging his finances (a goodly sum of which was now in the control of Louisa) he had had the pleasure of seeing her first astonished by the amount entrusted to her. Then, he had watched as that sensation was replaced by the realisation of the extraordinary freedom such a sum could bring.

As they had walked along the few shops that the village boasted, she had examined the wares with a new eye No longer did she look with the eye of a dispassionate observer, but with the look of one well able to buy.

As they had strolled along, Louisa had suddenly stopped. "Aren't they beautiful, Frederick?" she breathed, drawing him to the window of a shop.

They stood before the window of Fulton's Importers. The shop offered trinkets, housewares, cloth and foreign goods. He followed her gaze to a particular strand of blue beads, draped across a piece of white velvet. "They are lovely," was all he said. In her expression, he recalled his own joy in the independence a pocketful of coins could bring. He also gave a slight thought to the trouble such a pocket could bring.

When they entered the shop, he had stayed well back. He reasoned that her being left in Shropshire, alone, she must learn to deal with merchants independent of him. While Crown Hill was a small and friendly village, the merchants there were no different than any others in the world. All had quite a lot of talent for coaxing money from a full purse -- more so than many a pickpocket.

As they had left the shop, Frederick had marvelled that he carried a crate containing a crystal vase rather than the beads.

"It is lovely, I am sure they will treasure it. Are you certain that you don't wish to deliver it yourself -- I can change my plans and we could leave tomorrow by coach. I think that I could persuade Charles to escort you back after the wedding" At a private dinner, taken at the Dove and Quail, they had talked about her disappointment in missing the nuptials. She had spoken freely about her regret, but when asked, Louisa was reluctant to give a reason why she would rather stay in Shropshire, despite wanting to see her sister married.

Lowering the vase, she caressed it as she carried it back to the bed and the crate in which it had been packed. She sighed and said, "While I am sure that you could persuade Charles to do practically anything, I think it best to stay here." Louisa slid the vase into the crate and moved the packing around it. "Mrs Wentworth talked to me last night."

"Oh? What did the two of you talk about?" The previous afternoon he had found his wife sobbing, and she had told him that Catherine's mother hated her and had snubbed her openly. The Captain had patted and soothed as much as he could, and hoped that the women's conversation had softened whatever slights, real or imagined, had taken place.

"Mrs Wen ... Catherine. She said I was to call her Catherine." Louisa smiled at this. "She said that I had helped enormously yesterday morning and that she was sure I would be good company once the baby came." She lowered her voice a bit, "She is pleased with me, I think."

"Of course she is pleased with you, she'd not have invited you to stay were that not the case." It never occurred to Frederick that she would fear not being accepted by his family. "You were worried?"

"Certainly, I am among strangers now, they are quite free to not like me." She rearranged the paper in the crate. "But I want very much for them to like me, I do not wish them to regret the invitation."

The Captain reached over and took his wife's hand. Looking closely at her, he said, "They are not strangers, they are your family. And, you are very likeable, you needn't worry on that score." Giving it a squeeze, he brightened and said, "And you are free to stay or go, that is your choosing. But if you stay, just make certain that you write the note and I will deliver it, along with the gift when I ride through Uppercross." He kissed her hand, then released it and began to pull his sea chest from the corner in which it had been stowed. Hoisting it on the blanket chest, he unlocked it and began to remove its contents.

"I am fortunate that you must travel through Somerset to fetch your equipment from Kellynch," Louisa said, stroking her hand where he had kissed her. "What was it you called that thing you need to retrieve?"

"A quadrant -- remember? It is for fixing the ship's location." He had edeavoured to give her an elementary lesson in navigation, but she had proclaimed herself too thick-headed to understand it all. "And I have two telescopes that I had specially ground and a chronometer that is very delicate. Oh, and my dress sword is tucked somewhere in the Hall as well. Hopefully, Harkness has some idea where it might have landed." Suddenly, he stopped unpacking the case. "I have an idea."

Trying to put some order to the clothes, she asked, "And what might that be?"

"I have been wondering how I might keep Belle -- if the Doctor doesn't steal her again," Louisa smiled, "And transport the instruments safely."

Putting the crate lid on the vase, Louisa said, "And you have a solution?"

"I think so. If your father would not mind, I could leave Belle at Uppercross, rent a rig from Crewkerne and then my instruments are not ground to powder by going horseback. Do you think he would go along with such a scheme?"

She put her arms about him, and said, "As persuadable as Charles may be, when it comes to you, I think Father is more so. And it sounds like a very sound plan. Though I am surprised that you had not thought about your precious instruments when you bought Belle." She raised her face and kissed the underside of his chin.

Frederick chuckled. "I did not give them a thought, I was merely trying to buy myself a few more hours with ... with you. Everything else went out of my mind."

She smiled. "That is heartening to know."

They stood together for several minutes before Frederick murmured, "I'm sorry, my girl, but I must get back to packing my chest. The next post is stopping to pick it up and take it to Plymouth." Even as he said this, he felt a twinge of guilt. Had his most clever plan failed, he would not have been packing at all. He would be staying right there with her. He shook the thought aside, as it was useless to grieve his own stupidity.

"I know," Louisa sighed. "May I help? I would like to learn how." She began removing the rest of the clothing from the chest.

Shaking off the last of the remorse, he asked, more lightly than he felt, "Why? Are you planning on running off to sea?

"Perhaps," she teased. "I just wish to know how you like it. Packing a trunk can be a very personal thing."

"Oh, Really? And how might you know that?"

"Years going to and from school," she replied. "I am inclined to be rather untidy -- Etta says I am slovenly in my packing, while she is very particular about her trunks. Which are you?"

"A-hem, the Navy is based upon order -- a particular order." With that, he dropped into the chest an old, worn pair of Hessian boots.

"Oh! Then you must show me your particular order," she smiled. Looked at the chest, she noticed something that she had not seen before. "Who is 'Nathaniel Wentworth?" Louisa asked, pointing to the name on the side.

"Nathaniel Wentworth is, I should say, was my uncle. Father's brother. He was washed overboard in a storm in the Western Islands, oh, nearly thirty years ago, I think."

Louisa shivered. "Why then have his chest? That seems very morbid." She offered him a stack of dressy white lawn shirts.

"No! It is not morbid," he cried. Refusing the shirts, he pointed to several pairs of duck cloth breeches. (These were only worn when well away from land and no chance of being seen by fussy admirals.) "That chest is very lucky, I feel quite fortunate to have it at all," he said, tucking in jersey knit shirts.

"I cannot see why. It was not such a fortunate piece for your uncle."

Her astute rejoinder caught him by surprise. Sailors being endowed with a greater share of superstition than the average human, Frederick knew it would be impossible to make his landlocked wife see the good fortune in the chest. "I feel fortunate in having it because when Uncle Nathaniel died, all his worldly goods were sold at the mast, to others of his crew. When the crew dispersed, it all went to the four corners of the world! Happenchance put me and the fellow who bought the chest serving on the Borthwick. The cove liked me and liked the idea of me being Nathaniel's nevvy and so he give it to me -- well, sold it to me -- for just a little. I have taken it to sea with me on every commission and it has been very lucky for me." Continuing with his clothes, he hoped this explanation would satisfy.

Louisa shook her head in wonder. "As I said, it was not very lucky for your uncle." She offered stockings of various colours, and he shook his head and reached for small clothes.

"Well, I feel my luck acutely. After all, I have never been swept overboard since having it!" He gazed at her with smug satisfaction.

This was one of those times that his words left her speechless. "It is very hard to argue such a point," Louisa finally said. She offered his dress coat with the shining buttons and golden braid, and he nodded and placed it at the top of the chest.

"Yes, I know." He dropped the lid shut. Taking out the key from his pocket, he laid it on the lid that he might find it easily. "Now, all that is left is a book Edward promised me. I'll go down and fetch it."

Frederick had left the book in question in the sitting room. As he dismounted the stairs, he noticed a stranger kneeling before the small secretary that resided in the corner of the room. "Hello -- you! What are you doing there?"

The stranger started, and in a flurry of movement, removed a handkerchief from his breast pocket and brought it to his face. As he rose, he made the noises of using the cloth and intoned a pious, "Amen."

Keeping the cloth to his face and walking quickly to the door of the room, it was obvious that the man intended to avoid the Captain if at all possible. But, as the Captain had other ideas, that was not to be.

Taking the spare fellow by the shoulders, Frederick spun him about and pulled his arm down, revealling his face.

"Mr Cooper! I did not recognise you in that ... attitude of prayer."

"Captain Wentworth, I am very sorry if I worried you!" Cooper began, as he refolded his handkerchief. "I have just come from meeting with your brother, the Rector and I was so overcome with thankfulness for Mrs Wentworth's recovery that I came in here to," he stammered and dabbed his upper lip. " ... pray! ... and ... compose my emotions. Again, I am sorry if I startled you." Jamming the cloth in his coat pocket he began to move around the Captain. "I am in a dreadful hurry, sir. Good day," he called as he dashed to the door.

Seeing that the curate had truly departed, Frederick set about finding the book. "Strange that," he muttered as he walked into the sitting room. Spotting the desired object, he walked to the small table upon which it rested. As he picked it up, he glanced in the direction of the secretary. Moving over to it, he took stock of the contents of the open drawer that would have been just before the curate. Sliding it closed with the toe of his boot, he pondered as to whether or not Mr Cooper had truly been praying for his sister-in-law or, perhaps, preying upon his brother.

Frederick reentered the room and said to Louisa, "I just had an extraordinary encounter with -- Ho! ... what are you about? Are you pilfering my goods there, woman?" Forgetting Cooper and the drawer, he saw Louisa hurriedly closing and locking the lid of his sea chest.

With wide eyes, she turned quickly to face him, setting the key back on the lid where he had placed it. But as she turned, her fingers caught it and it clattered to the floor. Dropping to one knee, she snatched up the key and placed it on the lid. "No, sir! I was not pilfering ... not in the least!"

Walking over to her with a suspicious look, he reached around her and picked up the key, tucking it in his pocket. Taking her around the waist, he pulled her close and said, "Now ... tell me, what were you doing with my trunk? Did you take something out?"

The tone he used was teazing and the look he gave her amused. Louisa could see that he was not in the least concerned she had done anything untoward to the trunk, he was merely curious. She did not wish to tell him about the surprise she had hidden for him to find, and so, decided to lead him on a merry chase. She shook her head slowly and said softly, "No, sir. I took nothing from your trunk." She tightened her lips to keep from smiling outright.

Frederick examined her face closely. He liked it when she pursed her lips, as it was the only time a dimple on her right cheek would show itself. Bending down, he softly kissed the tiny, errant hollow. Straightening, he took on a contemplative posture, "Then, you put something in my sea chest. Am I right?" He now pursed his own lips, trying to act the part of the stern inquisitor.

Rather than give an immediate reply, Louisa reached up and retied her husband's neckcloth. This diversion would do much to heighten her husband's curiosity.

"Well? What have you to say?"

"Yes ... you are right. I did put something ... " Tucking the ends of the neckcloth, she took time to smooth his shirtfront and coat lapels. " ... in your sea chest." Looking the innocent lamb, she gazed into his eyes.

"Mmm, by your manner when I came in, I must assume that you had not wanted me to find this mysterious thing, am I right?"

"Yes ... I did not wish you to find it while you are yet here. When you are in Plymouth and unpack your chest ... then I want you to find it." Her smile widened.

Examining her closely again, he said an a low, glib tone, "Oh, I do not like the wicked gleam in your eye, my girl. I fear that you have done me a disservice of some sort ... perhaps I should open the trunk straightaway and root around to find out what sort of cruel trick you have perpetrated upon me!" As he spoke, he pulled her closer and brought them nearly nose to nose.

Turning away, just a bit, Louisa began picking at the tweed of his jacket. She offhandedly replied, "Well ... you can certainly do that, but I think I should remind you that the coach will be coming in less than half an hour. If you tear it all up now, there will be no time to set it to right. You will either miss the coach altogether or you will have to lock it up, all in a jumble ... and you have already said you like a particular order to things." At that, she sweetly patted his shoulders to emphasis her words.

Frederick looked at her with admiration. "My dear, if that brain of yours were in a man's body, I would have no scruple enlisting you for my quarterdeck! You have taken everything into account." Now his curiosity was piqued. What could she have placed in the chest that was so important it be must guarded with such care? Tightening his hold on her, he brought her closer still and said softly, "Come now, Louisa, what have you put in my trunk? I'll not open it ... just tell me."

A thrill went through her as she realised that she had bested him , and that now he was overset by curiosity. Just as quickly, she remembered the reason for the gift and the reason to hide it away. "No . . .I want you to find it when you are away from me." Again, she pursed her lips, but now it was to hold back tears that were stinging her eyes. The first that escaped, she hurriedly swiped at with the back of her hand.

He could not help but see the tears, but he did not wish to waste their time by lowering the day. Frederick threw back his head and cried, "Well, now I know!" Letting go of her, he turned and raising his arms. He exclaimed, "Most likely, you have put something despicable in there! A mouse perhaps? Alive or dead, it would make no difference!" Wheeling to face her, he pointed and went on in the same tone, "Or ... perhaps it is a piece of old moulded cheese that you have been saving for just such an occasion ... that is why I must not find it here!!" At this, his arm swept wide to indicate the whole of the house.

Despite herself, she began to giggle as he went on in such a ridiculous manner, complete with clownish faces. She could not help herself, and gave over to outright laughter.

Coming back and taking her again in his arms, he said, "You want me to be reminded of you every time I put on a shirt that smells like bilge ... or I find holes eaten in all my stockings ... is that your game?" He was glad to see laughter in her eyes instead of the tears. There would be plenty of those soon enough. "So is that your trick, my little mischief-maker?"

Again the dimple appeared as Louisa tried to bring herself to order. "No," she giggled. "I did nothing of that sort. No mice ... no cheese." She resolved to keep the tears back as she looked up at him. "It is something to remind you of me -- something pleasant -- that I hope you like."

"I'm sure I will. You're sure you cannot tell me what it is?" he tried to cajole her one last time.

"No ... I shall not tell you. But you must promise me something ... you must keep it to yourself ... no one else can see it ... please." The thought of anyone but Frederick seeing ... Had she given her ‘surprise' more thought, she might not have done it at all.

Frederick could not understand the look on her face, but was now more curious than ever. Not sure what to say, he quipped, "Ah, so you have knitted me some small clothes! I can assure you my dear that no one, save my steward, shall see them."

She understood that he was trying to cheer her, but now the game was over and the trunk was truly being shipped, and he would soon follow it to Plymouth. He would be there to find her surprise, and that being the case, meant he would be gone from her and she would be alone.

"No, it is not that. It is something else . . .something I would be mortified if anyone other than you were to see." As she spoke, she seemed to make herself smaller while she pressed herself into his embrace.

Placing his hand gently upon the nape of her neck, he too pressed her close. "Well, then ... whatever it is shall be private between you and I. I promise that no one else shall see it." He kissed her forehead. "Thank you. I know I will cherish it, whatever it might be."

"Edward, may I speak with you?"

"Certainly, come in. My door is always open to you. I see you got your chest off, and did you complete your business in town?"

"Yes. Without a hitch, in fact. That was what I wished to speak about. There are some legal matters of which, in my absence, you must be aware."

Clearing away the papers that littered his desk, he said, "I am at your disposal. Whatever you might need, you have only to ask."

"Before we talk about the money, "Frederick said, hesitantly, "There is something I think I should tell you about."

Leaning back in his chair, Edward asked, "And what might this something be?"

Pulling another chair closer to the desk, Frederick sat. "I came down earlier to fetch that book you said I could have. I left it in the sitting room yesterday and so went in to get it. I found your curate crouched before the secretary. When I asked what he was about, he said that he was in prayer -- and composing himself after hearing the good news of Catherine's condition." He too leaned back, allowing his words to be absorbed.

Edward shook his head. "Well, Mr Cooper having to compose his feelings to do with Catherine is a tub-load of tripe if there ever was one! The only thing that he is thankful for is his wife's family and connections!" He again began to fuss with papers on the desk.

"But that is not the half of it." Edward looked up, curious. "After he had gone, I went in and picked up the book. Before I went out of the room, I noticed that the bottom right-hand drawer of the secretary was open. That was just where Mr Cooper was 'praying.'"

Edward was quiet for a time. "There is nothing of importance in that drawer, so he could not have taken anything of value."

"He took nothing that I could tell ... I handled him a bit when I did not recognise him.."

At first Edward smiled at the idea of the Captain 'handling' Mr Cooper. Then the Rector frowned. "Cooper has been nothing but a thorn in my flesh since I took him on ... " He leaned back in the chair and fell into thought.

"Why ever did you ask such a man to be your curate? I cannot imagine that even at first blush he appealed to you -- or was he fobbed off on you by Levant?"

Edward looked up and said, "No! That is the worst of it! I chose him, I do not have Levant to blame. I agreed to hire him without ever having any direct knowledge of him. I foolishly took the word of his father-in-law, a man I did have knowledge of. Mr Pitney asked if I would take Cooper on, that he was to marry his daughter and that he -- Cooper -- was well-liked by the family and that they had every intention of helping him get on after their eldest son was established. Cooper had talked about making the Church his life and so Pitney applied to me about the curacy of Crown Hill. I was doing everything when I first began here, and I was quite used to that, so told Pitney I really could not afford to pay a married man. Pitney gave me the money to pass on to Cooper. I thought I was doing the right thing, helping a Christian gentleman, now ... now I am not certain that I have not made myself a nest more of spines than of straw."

Frederick could see that the more his brother talked, the angrier he became. After rooting around in a drawer, and removing nothing, the Rector closed it hard and said, "You know, the fellow actually had the presumption to come in here and tell me how he has been keeping 'care of the flock' as he called it, in my 'absence!'"

"Your absence?" Frederick laughed, "You've not been absent! Well, excepting for the few days of my wedding and I hardly think that counts as abandonment."

"No, no, he considers that from the time you arrived in December, that I have been preoccupied with my family, and while not exactly shirking my responsibilities ... " he took on a grim and pietistic mein, "I have not 'been attending the flock as a good Shepherd.'" Edward's face changed back to grimly sarcastic. "But! Not to worry ... Curate Cooper has been keeping watch over the flock and keeping them safe from ravaging wolves!" He leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands over his breast. "I do not think I have been neglectful of my charges," he said, nearly to himself.

Rising back up, Edward cried, "And ... after going all over the parish, Cooper now is of the opinion that I must do something about a woman Pollard Levant is rumoured to be keeping up at Bramford Hall! Me! As though I could march up to the gate and demand she come out! If Levant is such a ... " The Rector continued for quite a time about Levant and the rumoured woman.

The Captain had seen self-doubt in a man when it concerned his career, and his brother showed all the signs. Frederick had never thought that a man, called by God, could have mortal feelings of doubt. After Edward's rant ceased, the Captain quietly said, "Do not allow Cooper to plant this field."

"Wha ... what on earth do you mean?"

"I mean, Cooper is not a worthwhile man. He is not one who should have such place in your mind that he can bring on this sort of apprehension. You are a fine rector! I certainly would never bury myself in the country with the petty and niggling concerns of farmers and shopkeepers! All this -- "

"Frederick, not all of life revolves around the Navy and matters of national interest! The concerns of these people are just as -- "

Frederick began to laugh. First quietly, but as Edward became more vehement, the laughter mounted.

"Why do you laugh? Are you so heartless that you -- "

Frederick raised his hand in surrender. "No, I am not heartless, I just wish for you to see that you are perfect for this Parish! You love these people and care more deeply than one such as myself ever could!" The Captain sobered, and said firmly, "You once told me that Providence places us where we are for unknowable reasons." He flashed just a hint of a smile. "It pleases Him to place you in the company of Mr Cooper."

Edward sighed at that thought.

"Besides, Edward, we Wentworth's are quite able to deal with pirates." Frederick rested himself in the chair, folding his hands in satisfaction when he discerned his brother's response.

Edward smiled and shook his head, "You are certainly able to cheer and lighten the burden of people, do not be so hasty in thinking you might not do well as a religious."

"Oh, please ... but speaking of pirates, I met with your money man. He seems to be a good sort -- is he?"

"Yes, we are quite fortunate. In a small village such as Crown Hill, it is not unusual to find the lowest sort of sharp, gouging and blackening the eye of everyone with whom he does business. But not Putnam, he is a fair man. I must admit I don't see him often -- nothing to go in and nothing to take out, I'm afraid." Edward smiled.

"Any wise, he and I got on well. He was very helpful in doing just as I asked. I have copies of the terms of my accounts." He handed the documents to Edward. "As you can see, the first is for Louisa. It is already countersigned by me and she has full control of it in my absence."

Edward let out a low whistle. "Lord, Brother. You said nothing about being gone for so many years ... this is more than enough to keep her quite well -- on her own if she so chose -- for quite some time." Looking up, he asked, "Why so much?"

"It is part of the settlement money. I told Musgrove that I neither wanted, nor needed it, but it was important to them that they give it. I decided that she would have full access to it."

"She is awfully young, Frederick. Does she even understand how much this is?"

"No. I don't think so. She is nearly as stupid as I was about money. But, I have shown her how to keep a running account of every expenditure. If she wastes it in a week, she knows she is not to come to you." Frederick raised his brow. "I am hoping that being under the watchful eye of you and your sensible wife, she can be kept from too much danger!"

Edward glanced up and received his brother's look. "You are quite correct about my wife. And ... Louisa would have to be doing double tides in riotous living to spend this much in anything under a year. Unless she's buying land, and then you may have a very shrewd wife on your hands." The Rector smiled.

"I have no doubt that she is shrewd, though she really hasn't grown into it yet. As I said, if she buys that amount in bonnets, lurid novels and other gimcracks, she has been warned that you will not come to her rescue -- will you?"

"I haven't the funds to rescue myself, much less a foolish girl with her first taste of freedom."

Frederick ignored the remark and went on. "The second is an account I opened just to be shed of some of the cash. I don't want to carry it with me and while having a decent account in Plymouth will be necessary, I really would rather have the rest here, where it can be managed by you -- if anything should happen."

Edward pursed his lips and did not look up from the second document. He detested his brother's allusion to something happening. The Captain's death, disappearance or dismemberment was always a possibility, and it was not that the Rector wished to hide from the truth, but the truth being more than obvious, he chose not to engage in the discussion of it.

"As you can see, you are second on the account. If there is reasonable assurance that I am dead -- " Frederick looked towards Edward with mock seriousness, "and I mean reasonable, not vague and hopeful! Then the money is fully yours."

Edward took his brother's real meaning -- and he hated it.

He continued. "That is my wish and it is apart from my will." Frederick looked his brother's way and said, "So, if the Gazette reports news of a hellacious blow sinking the Laconia, with all hands lost, get to Putnam and have things changed over."

Not looking up, Edward said, "That too is a huge pile of money, Frederick. Shouldn't it go to Louisa, should anything happen?"

"Louisa is well taken care of, don't worry. My will even contains a bequest for Sophy and a few minor ones for old mates. I have seen to my responsibilities." Turning the page, he said, "And now the last." He watched as his brother read over the last document in the stack. Frederick watched carefully to see the intensity of the objection as the Rector came to the amount he had deposited in the account.

Edward carefully read the document several times. Each time he thought he had read wrong and so read again. Going over all the numbers once more, he tossed the paper down upon the desk and leant back in his chair.

"Well? Have you nothing to say? Not even a thank you?"

"You know that I'll not take such an obscene sum of money from you." Edward said simply.

Feigning surprise, Frederick looked at the paper and exclaimed, "Obscene? It is large, I admit, but obscene? No. Besides, I want you to have it." Looking intently at his brother, he said "I am tired of having to send you crumbs now and again, knowing that is all you will accept." The Captain pulled his chair next to the desk. He wished to be closer to his brother, as if that would make Edward understand better. "For years, you have been caring for me, in one fashion or another. I even suspect that before you came back from the Indies, you were sending money to our Mother. You had been putting shoes and coats on me long before you set foot back in country. Am I right?"

Edward sat up and shifted uneasily. Since telling his brother about his past dealings in the West Indies, they had spoken little of it. Other than vague references, there was never direct comments upon it. While he felt no guilt about his part in the slave trade, Mercy had taken that long ago, he smarted still over this neglect of his mother in the years he had been absent. He had known their father to be cruel -- the violence which had led to the banishment of his eldest son had been proof enough of that -- yet he had done nothing to protect his mother or the younger children from the man, and he still felt such neglect acutely.

Taking a pen from the basket on his desk, the Rector fiddled and played for a moment. Tossing it back in, he finally said, "Mother's letters were few, but she was quite concerned that Father was always losing ground with the business. I had money, so I sent it. I wish I could say it was out of love, but -- . I had money and while I loved it more than was decent, more could always be got. I sent it. Do not make it a virtue that it was not."

Frederick saw his opportunity. "Don't you see? I don't even love it very much. I have more I ever thought could be had, and, as you say, there are always ways for a clever man to make more!" The Captain lowered his head and shook it. "I know that sounds arrogant, but in my soul, I know that money is not something I need worry over. I have a kind of faith in myself, I can't explain it, but it is there. All that aside, I want you to have this. I am not trying to pay you off, or anything as crass as that, I just want you to know how much I appreciate all you have done for me over the course of the years. Even what you are doing for me now -- me and Louisa."

The brothers looked at one another for a moment. "That much money would make me nearly independent. I mean as far as concerns the living. No matter how little the tithes might be, living in the Rectory and all, we would be taken care of."

"I know that. That is what I want. I want you to have the same independence I want Louisa to have. As I told her, you can proclaim your freedom all you like, but if you have no means, and are hungry, your freedom sells for a very small sum."

"Yes, freedom can be taken so easily when one has no means." Edward brightened, "This windfall will certainly enable me to free myself from Levant. No matter how much he asks for, I shall be able to answer fully."

Frederick began to dig in his pocket. "Ah, no, brother. None of that money in the bank is to go to Levant. I beg you." The look on his face was serious until he pulled out a pouch from his coat. It landed with a pleasant thunk on the desk and he said, "Now that will answer Levant fully!"

Edward looked at the pouch and then his brother. He hesitantly reached over and took the pouch into his lap. It was fair sized and heavy. Looking in it, he exclaimed, "Gold!" The Rector had not handled gold for several years. Bank notes and certificates were now the fashion, not that he had either very often, but he had heard. Watching Frederick, but getting no immediate answer, he began to count the booty.

Frederick smiled a most self-satisfied smile. When it came to things of the heart, he knew himself to be a lame, blind man at the ball, but when concocting a scheme of this nature, he was in familiar waters. To make his way in the Navy, he had early on learned how one must deal with the blue-coated pirates that commanded nearly every port and how to chasse his way through every gauntlet set forth by Whitehall, that amazing place mostly populated by sharps and flats the same colouring of Levant.

"While I thank you for it, it is a bit shy of the last mark that he set." Setting the bag down, he continued, "Can't blame you, I guess I never told you what he wanted. But with what is in the bank, I shall have no trouble paying him off."

"Edward, my boy, listen. I met your Pollard Levant outside the office of Mr Putnam. He made polite noises about running into my lovely wife and myself. After he had leered her a moment, he asked me to pass along and invitation to visit him at Bramford Hall tomorrow morning. He mentioned that the two of you have some business that must be finalised. He even hinted that I might know of it."

"He is a charmer, ain't he? I'm sorry he was so flagrant in his attentions to Mrs Wentworth."

"It can't be helped. Besides, it wasn't the first time, he did it in Church. A man who does something so despicable in the House of God is not one from which you can expect mannerly behaviour. I just wish I had been in uniform. Fellows such as he are quick to come to heel when a casual hand rests upon the hilt of a sword."

Edward burst out laughing. While it was quite base, he wished in the worst way, to see Pollard Levant brought to heel, especially by his brother -- and at the point of a sword! "Well," Edward drawled, "I suppose I shall make some time to go to Bramford Hall tomorrow."

"You will not!"

"I won't? Now I realise that you have great powers and authority on the waters, but I was not aware that they extended to the land -- and to civilians such as myself!"

"They don't -- yet." The mischievous glint in Frederick's eye was nearly frightening to behold. "Brother, between the two of us, I am certain we can formulate a plan to satisfy Levant and keep as much of that money in your name as possible."

After an hour of being closeted in the study together, a knock at the door startled both men. It was Mrs Graham announcing a package from Fulton's had just arrived for the Captain. Taking it and thanking the housekeeper, Frederick smiled at his brother and said, "You will have to excuse me, but this is for Louisa and I wish to give it to her right away. You think more on what we have discussed," he said waving a finger in the Rector's direction. He disappeared out the door and down the hallway, whistling a cheerful tune.

Catching sight of the housekeeper as she was turning into the kitchen, he called, "Mrs Graham. Where might I find Mrs Wentworth? I mean my Mrs Wentworth? I do not envy you the confusion this will no doubt cause."

Mrs Graham smiled, and said, "Last I knew of them, she was in with Mrs Wentworth -- the Rector's Mrs Wentworth, upstairs, in her room -- their room." Shaking her head, the woman turned and continued to the kitchen.

"Thank you!" he called, and taking the stairs two at a time, he indeed, found Louisa with Mrs Wentworth. The door to the Rector's room stood open and he observed that the ladies were examining what looked to be a christening gown that was laid out on the bed. Knocking, he asked that Louisa come to him in their room.

Holding the brown paper package behind his back, he said, "I have something I wish to give you," He prompted her to close the door behind her.

Doing as he bid, Louisa tried to look behind him as she approached. "What is it? What do you have for me?"

They bobbed once or twice as she tried to spy the packet and he wove away from her. "All right," he said, taking her hand. "Stand here. I'll hold it for you while you open it."

Louisa stood looking at the package for a moment. "What is it?"

"Open it, goose."

Taking the ends of the strings that held it closed, she pulled and slowly opened the paper. "Oh, Frederick," she exclaimed.

"Try it on. It is very nearly like the material you used for my stock and I thought it would look very well with your dress. Fulton said it was pure Chinese silk. Only the finest of silkworms for this masterpiece."

Folding down a point of the huge silken shawl, Louisa settled the shawl around her shoulders as she hurried to the mirror to see how she looked. Standing silently for a moment, she breathed, "It is beautiful -- thank you so much."

Moving the changing screen, that he might look too, he took a place behind her and said, "There's more."

She turned and beamed. "More? For me?"

"Yes, I realised that I had never given you a proper wedding gift ... you made me my stock," Taking her hands he held them and gently rubbed them between his. "And I never thought to do anything for you." He smiled and said, "I am the rudest of men, but then I saw these . . ." Releasing her hands, he reached into his jacket pocket. Taking out a small rosewood box, with a blue ribbon tied around it, he put it in her hands. "This is for you."

"I really never thought about it ... and you did give me a gift," holding up her left hand, she wiggled her fingers, "My wedding ring ... you gave me that." She stood smiling, looking at the box and then back at him. "It is lovely ... I like it very much." Louisa thought it odd that he would give her a box, pretty as it was with inlaid mother of pearl tulips on the lid.

"You are a very generous woman, my dear, but I hardly think that the obligatory ring counts ... and the gift is not the box ... go ahead, open it." He was anxious to see her response.

The ribbon was in a simple tie and she slowly pulled it open. Taking it from the box, she handed it back to him, and looking again at him, she twisted off the top of the box.

Looking inside, she drew a sharp breath, "They are beautiful ... the beads I saw in the shop ... they are beautiful." She looked up and he was glad, for the look was priceless.

The larger beads were simple blue and gold, Venetian glass with tiny gold beads between. Simple but elegant. The blue was a true match to Louisa's dress while a lovely compliment to her eyes: the swirls of gold shot throughout each bead made them the perfect piece.

"I know, you saw them first. I thought they were what you were going to buy when we went in to Fulton's, but then you spent everything on the vase for your sister ... They match your dress too well to be left in that shop window. . . I only wish we had seen them before Sunday's dinner ... but next time you wear the dress ... you wear these too."

All the while he had spoken, she stared at the contents of the box. For the first time in her married life she could see that he had thought of her while they had been apart. She knew in her mind that he must sometimes think of her, but this was the first time she knew it in her soul. The shawl, the box and the beads proved it. She was almost afraid to touch them, believing the necklace to embody the blossoming, yet fragile emotions of them both. Nonetheless, she wanted very much to touch them and so daintily reached in and picked them up. The gold beads glinted in the light and the glass shone as well. "Please, put them on me," she whispered, looking at him with glistening eyes.

"Surely." He was a little surprised at her reaction. She seemed nearly in a daze, he had no idea that such a small token would elicit such an extraordinary response. He was, in fact, a bit embarrassed how little the beads had cost him. But his guilt was assuaged by her obvious liking of them. "Turn." He placed the beads around her neck and fastened the clasp. He rested his hands on her shoulders and bent to say, "You have a lovely neck . . .you should always wear something to adorn it, show it off a bit." She said nothing as he kissed her cheek. He then added, "Perhaps not ... I like having it all to myself. If you go around calling attention to it ... others will begin to notice."

She turned suddenly, "I would never do that, you know ... call attention to myself." Her eyes were sincere. They were still too close to their misunderstanding about her cousin, Michael and she did not wish him to think she had any notions of showing out.

He drew her close. "Oh, I know, girl." Kissing her temple, he brought his hand to her neck and absently fingered the clasp of the necklace. "You are a woman who is very careful of herself ... you have learned your lessons well. Look what trouble you got yourself into last time you called attention to yourself ... you got me!"

Louisa rested comfortably against his chest and fingered her beads. "That is not much of a caution against flirting you know ... I think myself to have gotten the best of bargains." Turning again to the mirror, she remembered Mrs Wentworth's story about boot laces. Drawing back just a bit, she looked at him earnestly. "I love my shawl and these beads, though I would have been satisfied with laces for my boots."

Frederick scowled, and inclined to take account of her feet. "Those laces look to be in fine condition, do you need boot laces?" He was puzzled by her apparent enthusiasm over such a trivial matter.

Louisa smiled at his confusion. "No, I need no laces, thank you. I just wish you to know that I would treasure whatever you chose to give me. No matter what it may be, I know it comes from your heart and you think it the best for me." She turned back to admire the beads.

More puzzled than ever, Frederick wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Studying their faces together in the mirror, he could see her joy in the gift and was convinced that in choosing the necklace, he had chosen very well indeed. Though, perhaps one day, he would bring her boot laces and then he might be told the significance of them.

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