Chapter 25: Captain Trilby

They had to wait in Southampton for two days before they found shipping to Dublin. It was a well founded two-masted brig that had three cabins for passengers. To be true, only one was for passengers, but the master-owner of the brig thought it wise to let his puny cabin to a full admiral. At least on this journey, his crew would be safe from the press gangs he probably reasoned.

There was only one, admittedly roomy, cot in their cabin which Harriet and Siobhan would have to share, whilst a hammock was rigged for Jenny. Harriet was far too excited though to mind the bedfellow. They sailed down The Solent with the running ebb stream, and due to the prevailing westerly wind, it was a five-day journey, all told, albeit in pleasant weather.

Sailing into the River Liffey, Harriet could already see that Asia was out at sea. No ship her size could be seen in the anchorage. She felt a little disappointment but she reasoned that she would return to Dublin within two or three weeks. It was early afternoon, and the first order of business was to find quarters. Sir Richard saw to that, finding rooms in the largest inn, the Royal Crown. It was too late for an interview with the Lord Lieutenant, but they visited Michael O’Shaunessy in the garrison. He was not in his old holding cell anymore, but he had been transferred to a gaol where he awaited his transport. It was not possible to visit him there. The women and Sir Richard resigned themselves.

It was not yet nine o’ clock in the next morning when Sir Richard entered Dublin Castle, asking for an interview with the Lord Lieutenant, the Duke of Richmond. The Duke was still in his early forties, a tall and erect figure with a background in the Army. Yet, he had served in the West Indies and co-operated with Navy forces under then Vice-Admiral Sir Richard Lambert, and they greeted each other as old friends. His appointment to Lord Lieutenant, or more colloquially to Viceroy, was a recent one and he was not yet familiar with everything in his sphere of influence.

Sir Richard quickly came to the purpose of his visit, explaining the reasons why he had become involved in Michael O’Shaunessy’s case and the reasons why HM ministry viewed the verdict against him as less than helpful. The Duke creased his brows when he heard about the obvious lies of the main informer, and he nodded with sympathy when Sir Richard told of the effort of O’Shaunessy’s sister to clear her brother’s name. Sir Richard then handed over the sealed Royal Pardon.

The Duke broke the seal and read it quickly. He then rang the bell for his secretary and had that worthy man notify the Governor of Dublin Prison that Mr. O’Shaunessy had to be set free without delay, into the care of Admiral Sir Richard Lambert. Sir Richard was told to allow for the transmission of this order and to pick up ‘his young man’ after noon.

Sir Richard accepted the invitation to a glass of the Viceroy’s finest brandy, and they sat in amiable conversation, exchanging news and opinions. It was more than an hour later when Sir Richard returned to their lodgings and informed the young women of the Viceroy’s reaction.

The bell of a nearby church announced the second hour when Sir Richard, Siobhan, and Harriet arrived at the prison gates in a rented carriage. Sir Richard then stalked to the entrance and demanded to have Mr. O’Shaunessy delivered to him. To his annoyance, he was informed that the governor was at home and would not be back before the next morning, if at all. It took another quarter-hour before he could impress the need to summon the governor upon the chief warder.

The man arrived a half hour later, half drunk and in an ugly mood. The full admiral’s uniform, the chivalrous title, and most importantly, the commanding presence of Sir Richard soon made him subservient, though. At his snarled command, two warders hastened to retrieve the prisoner O’Shaunessy, and they returned within a few minutes. A dishevelled Michael O’Shaunessy was walking between them, his clothes in tatters and his face bruised. Sir Richard’s eyes narrowed, but he kept his outward calmness.

“Lieutenant O’Shaunessy, I am Admiral Sir Richard Lambert. Captain Sir Anthony Carter is my son-in-law, and I involved myself on his asking.”

“I have seen you, Sir Richard, when you came aboard the Asia.”

“Quite. I bring good news. His Majesty King George, by the grace of God King of Great Britain and Ireland, has recognised your past valiant and loyal service. He has also, in his wisdom, recognised the falseness of the accusations levied against you. He has deigned to issue a full pardon for you, reinstating you to your previous station and privileges.”

O’Shaunessy took a ragged breath.

“There is a God in heaven!” he exclaimed. “When can I leave this place of horror?”

“In this very minute. His Excellency the Lord Lieutenant has ordered your immediate release.”

O’Shaunessy turned to the governor.

“My watch and my other possessions, if you please!”

The governor turned purple.

“Your possessions, young man, are forfeit!”

“No, they are not!” Sir Richard interjected with authority. “Hand over Mr. O’Shaunessy’s personal property!”

It was not much the governor retrieved from a strongbox. A silver-plated watch, a miniature painting of a woman, a pocket knife with a mother of pearl handle, and a golden ring were all that was left. O’Shaunessy’s uniform coat had been sold already, and what money he had owned had been lost even before he was incarcerated in the prison.

“We have retrieved your sea chest from Lady Colton’s house whereto Mr. Dougherty had sent it for safe-keeping,” Sir Richard consoled the young man. “Lady Colton has been most helpful to your cause, as have a number of other personages. Let us leave, though, so you can change into appropriate clothing. I took the liberty of reserving a private room for you in the Royal Crown.”

“Again, my heartfelt thanks, Sir Richard! Those last weeks have been like hell on earth.”

“I can quite imagine your plight, Lieutenant. Let us rush, though, for your poor sister must be beside herself in her worry.”

O’Shaunessy regarded his clothing with dismay, and Sir Richard could not help but smile.

“Never worry about outward appearances, Mr. O’Shaunessy. The way I have come to know your sister, she will not mind your attire at all.”

Indeed, Siobhan O’Shaunessy did not mind in the least. Once O’Shaunessy emerged from the prison gate, she flew into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time, whilst she gushed out the story of how they had obtained his pardon. Sir Richard and Harriet looked upon the siblings with feelings of achievement. Finally, Michael O’Shaunessy became aware of Harriet.

“Lady Carter, my sister has told me of your unselfish help and care for her. I thank you most humbly and from the bottom of my heart.”

Harriet smiled happily.

“Think not of it, my dear Mr. O’Shaunessy! You did me an important service first when you assisted me against those ruffians. Also, I have won a dear friend in your sister. Now let us leave this horrid place in haste so you may recuperate from your undeserved ordeal!”

O’Shaunessy insisted on sitting with the driver lest his saviours might suffer the pungent smell of his tatters in the confinement of the coach. Once they arrived at the Royal Crown, the servants rushed to ready a hot bath for him to submerge himself in whilst they burnt his ruined clothes. Meanwhile, Siobhan laid out fresh clothes for him and when he joined their party for supper, he was once again an officer and gentleman in appearance, save for the bruises he had suffered.

During supper, Sir Richard explained the conditions of the pardon and handed the young officer his orders. O’Shaunessy was slightly dismayed at first as he had welcomed the posting to Asia as a chance to see his sister more often, but he saw the wisdom behind the overseas posting as well as the chances. Once again, he thanked his benefactors, and he gave his word of honour that he would not seek contact with Mr. Melrose. Sir Richard was content with that reasoning that it was primarily in Melrose’s interest and responsibility to stay out of O’Shaunessy’s way.

For the next two days, the siblings spent as much time together as possible whilst the lieutenant looked for transport to Portsmouth. There was a packet ship readying for sea in Dublin, but she would sail north first, to touch Belfast, before she would sail for Portsmouth. Presented with a chance to visit his aunt in Belfast and to see his sister back into her care, O’Shaunessy agreed to sail in the packet, with Siobhan to accompany him as far as Belfast.

Harriet was dismayed at first over losing her newly found friend Siobhan so soon. The Asia would not come to port again before another two weeks as she had already found out. During lunch, however, an idea came up that would solve Harriet’s problems. Armagh was much closer to Belfast than to Dublin. Sailing for Belfast first would halve the distance to be travelled overland, and the travel would be made over the roads of Ulster where British rule met with far greater acceptance.

Once the idea was there, more reasons came up in favour of it. Siobhan offered to accompany Harriet and claimed acquaintance with the owner of a reliable poste chaise service in Belfast. She also invited Harriet cordially to visit with her aunt who, no doubt, would welcome a lady so instrumental in the rehabilitation of her nephew. Taken together, the idea was approved by everybody, even by Sir Richard who welcomed it for other reasons.

After securing a cabin in the Belfast packet, Harriet packed hastily, and by late afternoon she sailed from Dublin with the O’Shaunessies, once again sharing a cabin with Siobhan. The excitement of the voyage and the events of the past days served to keep both young women talking late into the night whilst the two-masted vessel dashed northward, driven by a lively westerly wind. The short, choppy waves made for an uncomfortable sailing, but the women bore it with good humour. Once Jenny was sent to sleep - she shared a dingy cabin with two other maidservants - the two young women still talked animatedly.

From the recent events, talk shifted to their earlier lives. Harriet told her friend of the days in the Mary Anne’s longboat when she fell in love with a young Anthony Carter. She briefly touched her ill-fated marriage to Rupert Palmer. She told of her friendship with Lucy, and the confession slipped from her mouth how they had dallied with each other to relieve their loneliness. Only when the words had left her mouth, Harriet blushed deeply, realising how this confession would scare her companion. In the flickering light of the tallow lamp, she saw something different. It was a look of longing she discovered in Siobhan’s eyes.

“I had a girlfriend, too, back in Ballycastle,” she told Harriet. “Her name was Deirdre, and she was the daughter of the Duke’s caretaker. We had played together since childhood, and we still met Sunday afternoons. I remember how she told me that young Mr. Holland had kissed her, and I felt at once jealous and curious. I asked her how it had been, and she ... she showed me. It was ever so sweet and exciting. For the next weeks and months, we practised kissing every Sunday, until Mr. Holland spoke for her with Deirdre’s father. She told me then that she could not kiss me anymore.”

There was sadness in Siobhan’s voice as she ended her tale. Her eyes showed an unreadable expression as she watched Harriet’s face. She drew a deep breath.

“Is it different when you kiss a man?” she queried.

Harriet pressed her friend’s hand.

“I have only kissed one man in my life, and his kisses are different from those I shared with my friend Lucy. There is more passion in them, they are more demanding, more urgent. It is hard to describe, I fear.”

“But weren’t you married before? Surely, you have kissed your first husband?”

Harriet shook her head grimly.

“Rupert Palmer knew better than to get near my teeth!” she stated, her hatred of her first husband still permeating her voice. “No, I only kissed one man and two women, Lucy and Moira. You met her, Moira Palmer.”

“Oh yes, is she ever beautiful!” Siobhan blurted, remembering the black eyed daughter-in-law of Lord Broughton. “Did you ... Did you and Miss Heyworth?”

Harriet shook her head, more at ease now.

“No, there was never any dalliance with Anita. You see, she was Anthony’s paramour at that time, and this would have been too complicated. And you, have you ever kissed a woman other than your Deirdre?”

Siobhan shook her head.

“I never felt the attraction again until ... I believe Lady Colton would have, and I am ever grateful to her, but I never felt anything for her like for ... For Deirdre.”

Harriet noticed that Siobhan left something unsaid. The light from the lantern was unsteady and deceiving, but still, Harriet was certain that her companion was blushing fiercely. She placed a hand on Siobhan’s arm and the young Irishwoman could not help but gasp and shiver.

“Siobhan, do you want to kiss me?” she asked bluntly, but with a gentleness in her voice that encouraged her bedfellow.

Siobhan was unable to speak, but she nodded, her eyes riveted on Harriet’s mouth. Harriet felt a short stab of her conscience, but then she shrugged inwardly. Tony had never expressed any jealousy over her intimate friendship with Lucy; why would he object to a kiss with Siobhan? She also became aware of her own, strong desires. After Richard’s birth, she and Tony had not coupled at first to give her a chance to heal. Then, Asia was ordered back, and Harriet had to berth alone in the John Carter. In London, she had just started her period when they came shore, and then, their disagreement had driven them apart. In short, Harriet had not enjoyed any but self-inflicted pleasures for almost a year.

Tentatively, she reached out for Siobhan’s face and caressed her cheek. The young woman leant into the touch, and Harriet forgot everything for a moment when their lips touched. Clearly, Siobhan had received some solid tutoring from the girl Deirdre, Harriet decided. All shyness fell off the Irishwoman as she returned Harriet’s kiss with vigour and finesse. Harriet felt lightheaded and she had to suppress a moan that wanted to leave her throat.

Harriet’s hand sought and found the soft swell of Siobhan’s bosom, covered only by the thin layer of the calico shirt she wore, and Siobhan’s breath caught in her throat.

“You are touching my - breast!” she whispered with an inflection of awe in her voice.

“I am,” Harriet whispered back. “Does that bother you?”

“No. No! Only, nobody ever touched me there.”

Harriet continued the gentle caresses of Siobhan’s breast, using her thumb to graze over the protruding nipple.

“You like that, don’t you?” she whispered into Siobhan’s open mouth.

“Oh, yes!” Siobhan whimpered back, her hand seeking Harriet’s body now, running up and down her back. “Shall I touch you, too?”

“I should love that, Siobhan,” Harriet answered with a hint of a chuckle. “Your boob feels nice under my hand.”

“My what?” Siobhan giggled.

“Your booby, your breast,” Harriet chuckled. “It’s so full and proud! I envy you.”

By now, Siobhan’s exploring hand had found Harriet’s breasts. They were fuller, after Richard’s birth, but they were still firm and pointy, and Siobhan’s hand caused a delightful tingle.

“Am I doing it right?” Siobhan asked tentatively.

For an answer, Harriet kissed her friend again and let her tongue explore Siobhan’s mouth. She hovered over the younger woman now, her leg thrown over Siobhan’s, and her mound pressed against a thigh. She pressed her own thigh against Siobhan’s mound, and within heart beats, the two young women were grinding their lower bodies against each other’s thighs.

“Oh, my! Oh, dear!” Siobhan panted over the novel sensations.

Yet, she was a quick learner, Harriet found, giving as well as she received. Harriet found her passion to rise quickly now and she threw caution to the wind. Her free hand moved down to the hem of Siobhan’s shirt and back up, over hot skin. When Harriet’s hand closed over the the naked flesh of her friend’s full breast, Siobhan whimpered and bucked against Harriet’s thigh. Her legs clamped around it, and Harriet felt the frantic humping as Siobhan had a strong release. When the spasms subsided, the young Irishwoman fell limp under Harriet, looking up at her with an expression of awe.

“I’ve never felt the likes of this,” she whispered incredulously. “Was this... ?”

“The French call it, ‘Le petit mort‘, the little death,” Harriet explained in a hushed voice. “Sometimes, when the feelings are quite strong, you can even pass out from enjoyment. Yours was not quite as strong.” She smiled mischievously. “It must have been quite good, though, for a first time.”

“It felt like I was falling endlessly,” Siobhan whispered. She turned worried, next. “Am I a - deviant woman now?”

This caused Harriet to laugh. She checked herself quickly. Although the creaking of the timbers around them had masked the panting and low moans sufficiently, Harriet suddenly became aware that Siobhan’s brother was just a bulkhead away from them. She continued in a whisper.

“No, my sweet girl. Many women give comfort and enjoyment to each other whilst their husbands are away from England. I still crave my Anthony’s touch, and I should bet that a skilful man can bring you to even greater heights of lust.”

“I would not know that,” Siobhan answered dejectedly. “No man has yet touched my heart. What if I love women over men?”

“That’s not something to worry over just yet, my dearest Siobhan. Let us cuddle closely now, for I feel tired. Once we have had our sleep, we can talk more. Right now, I want to feel your body close to mine, for comfort and warmth.”

This was not something to which Siobhan would object, and soon the two friends fell asleep in each other’s arms.

They arrived in Belfast in late afternoon of the next day. The packet would not sail before the next morning, and so Michael O’Shaunessy was able to accompany his sister and Harriet to his aunt’s home.

The Widow Margaret Fitzmaurice née O’Shaunessy was overjoyed, learning of the rehabilitation of her nephew. She had no children of her own. Her husband, Captain Duncan Fitzmaurice, had lost his life to diphtheria only months into their marriage, and she had gladly taken in her brother’s orphaned children, raising them as her own. She welcomed Harriet as her nephew’s saviour, and she would not be deterred by Harriet’s protestations. Harriet’s idea of finding lodgings in an inn was roundly rejected, and she found herself lodged in Mrs. Fitzmaurice’ best sleeping chamber for the night.

There was no sleeping, though, before they had recounted all the events and all the people who had helped obtaining the Royal Pardon for Michael O’Shaunessy. Time and again, Mrs. Fitzmaurice had to find a bottle of ‘her finest’, to fill glasses and to toast her nephew’s benefactors. Harriet felt more than a little intoxicated when she bade good night to her hostess and her friends. Jenny helped her undress and lie down, and that was the last Harriet remembered of the day.

When Harriet woke, it was late in the morning, and Michael O’Shaunessy had already left. Mrs. Fitzmaurice served breakfast, urging Harriet to eat, claiming that she was too thin. Siobhan rolled her eyes behind her aunt’s back, causing Harriet to giggle in response. After breakfast, the two women, accompanied by Jenny, set out to hire a post chaise.

They found a likely proprietor of such services, and Siobhan took over the negotiations. A price was agreed upon, and a time was set for the carriage to pick them up at Mrs. Fitzmaurice’ house. The rented cab then took them back, and Siobhan used the opportunity to show Harriet a little of Belfast. A centre of linen manufacturing, Belfast was not small by any means, but lacking in any imposing structures and landmarks. It was a busy town and prosperous, but unpretentious.

In the afternoon, Harriet and Siobhan took a stroll to the harbour, to find out about packets sailing for Dublin a week hence. Harriet made a reservation in a vessel scheduled to sail eight days later, as she was eager to be back in time for Asia‘s return to port.

With a day of preparation, Mrs. Fitzmaurice was able to surpass her cooking of the evening before, although the ‘bottle of my finest’ remained corked, as neither of the women felt like imbibing again.

Harriet still slept well until Jenny woke her at sunrise. After another filling breakfast, Harriet boarded the post chaise with Siobhan and Jenny, and they were bound for Armagh. Once they left Belfast behind, the scenery became pleasant enough, and the day passed in more chatter.

Harriet tried to include Jenny in the talk. It was one of her projects, to better Jenny’s education and to have her speak proper English at least, and in this she was making rapid progress. Gone was the colourful sailor’s talk, and those watching the girl would never suspect her to have been a member — if unwilling — of a pirate’s crew. Jenny was suffering under the separation from her sweetheart who was still serving in the Asia and would do so for quite a while, and she kept Harriet company with fervour, always hoping that Eric Johnsen would be in Sir Anthony’s gig when the Captain came ashore to see his wife.

Thus, the morning flew by quickly. The towns they passed through, Lisburn, Moira, and lastly, Lurgan, were the heart of the Irish Linen manufacturing, with straight, well organised streets. Harriet made a note to herself to purchase a set of quality linens on the return journey. They stopped for the night in a roadside inn in Lurgan. It was close to the supper bell when their post chaise drew up, and Harriet with her companions soon sat at the best table in the common room whilst their coachman preferred the tap room.

Three women, travelling alone, drew the attention of the patrons. Several men came by, bowing politely and asking if they needed help. Harriet let Siobhan handle those men, and the young Irishwoman thanked them and insured them that they were fine.

One young fellow, however, would not heed Siobhan’s polite rebuke. Unasked, he sat down at their table and signalled the landlord for a mug of ale.

“Don’t tell me three pretty ladies have no need for protection and assistance,” he postured, looking about to make sure that his cronies, sitting at the next table, heard him.

Harriet decided reluctantly to end this herself.

“Yet, my companion speaks the truth,” she spoke with determination. “I should ask you to leave our table, which you joined without being asked and without the politeness to ask for permission.”

“Oh, a real lady, aye?” the young man sneered.

“Indeed I am. I am Lady Carter, wife of Captain Sir Anthony Carter, and I ask you to remove yourself.”

“Get yourself up from that table, Clanton!” the landlord said. “I’ll not have you molest my guests.”

The young man sneered at the landlord.

“What if I don’t want to? Are you going to force me? I think not! My father would quickly show you your place.”

“That’s quite enough, Clanton,” an authoritative voice cut in. “Get up and leave, for if you refuse, I shall see you out.”

The man who spoke was tall and well built. Flaxen hair framed a handsome face and contrasted nicely with the scarlet uniform of a dragoon. From the lapels, Harriet recognised him to be a captain.

The young man named Clanton started to answer, but seemingly decided to cut his losses, rather than challenging a King’s officer outright. He stood, shrugged his shoulders, and gave an ironic bow to Harriet and her companions. Then he swaggered from the common room, three of his cronies in tow.

Harriet looked up at the captain, giving him a friendly smile.

“Thank you, Captain, for delivering us from that uncouth man.”

“It has been my pleasure, Lady Carter. I am Captain George Trilby, of the Portadown dragoons. I am sorry that you had to meet our local nuisance.”

“Why don’t you sit with us for a moment, Captain,” Harriet invited him. “Contrary to appearance, we are not averse to company, but we reserve the right to choose our table companions.”

“Thank you, Lady Carter,” Trilby answered, a smile appearing on his boyish face. He looked at Siobhan and Jenny. “May I ask your names, too, ladies?”

“I am Siobhan O’Shaunessy, of the Ballycastle O’Shaunessies,” Siobhan answered, with a slight note of irritation in her voice.

“My name is Jenny Morgan, Sir, but I’m no lady. I’m Lady Carter’s maidservant,” Jenny added, blushing slightly.

Trilby gave both young women his boyish smile, a smile that froze slightly when he sat and regarded Siobhan fully, without a lamp shade between them. He cleared his throat, obviously trying to overcome a fluster.

“May I ask whereto you are travelling, Lady Carter?” he asked politely.

“I have business in Armagh for my father, Admiral Sir Richard Lambert,” she answered, still smiling at the handsome young officer.

It seemed that it was not Harriet’s smile that flustered Captain Trilby, for he was ready to smile back.

“Another five to six hours tomorrow should see you there, Lady Carter. Are you planning to leave early?”

“Why, Captain? Are you offering your protection?” Siobhan queried, not quite friendly.

Trilby laughed at her.

“If asked to escort you, I would feel honoured. However, to give truth the honour, the road to Armagh is quite safe. My accompanying you would be solely for my own benefit.”

“Pray what benefit, Captain?” Siobhan shot back, for some reason agitated.

“A young officer will only benefit from having courteous intercourse with ladies of breeding,” he answered, giving Siobhan an ironic wink.

Before Siobhan could give the sharp answer she obviously planned, Jenny giggled. The other three looked at her, and the giggle stopped whilst Jenny blushed scarlet.

“What caused your merriment, my dear Jenny?” Harriet asked curiously.

“I ... It sounded droll how the Captain said that, as if he counted me among the ladies, begging your pardon.”

Jenny competed with the hearth fire, the way her face glowed. Trilby looked at her with an amused smile.

“I meant to speak in jest, parodying my old headmaster.”

“Pray, Captain, since when are school boys posted as officers of the dragoons?” Siobhan inquired, a touch snide.

Again, Trilby smiled and winked when he answered.

“I may be the only one, Miss O’Shaunessy. You should get along with my father were he still alive. He used to say that that I was slow in growing up. May I ask you own business in Armagh, Miss?”

“I have none save for to accompany my dear friend and benefactor, and I shall gladly answer any such questions as a well-behaved gentleman may feel justified to ask.”

Harriet raised an eyebrow at Siobhan’s obvious belligerence, but Trilby appeared unfazed.

“Alas, Miss O’Shaunessy, whilst I may lay claim to being a gentleman — which some even may dispute — ‘well-behaved’ is not the attribute most people associate with my person. But perhaps, I am only moulding my own behaviour after your example?”

“Would you care to explain that, Captain?”

The boyish grin left his face.

“Miss O’Shaunessy, I interceded on your behalf, no doubt doing you a favour when that Clanton lout molested you.”

“Oh dear, how manly! You certainly put that fearsome man into his place! I am sure, a knighthood is waiting for you!”

“My dear Siobhan,” Harriet interceded. “The Captain is right. He has done us a service, and we should be grateful and not snide. I am sorry, Captain. It would seem that my companion is less than receptive to your jesting ways. I, for my part, will be more than happy to see you again.”

Trilby checked himself and smiled again.

“It is my bad luck, Lady Carter, that the women I covet are the least tolerant of my character. My apologies to you, too, Miss O’Shaunessy, and I shall take my leave.”

With that he stood, bowed politely, and left the common room. Harriet looked at Siobhan in amusement. The young woman was steaming with anger.

“What an assuming lout!” she vented her feelings. “He can covet my backside!”

Harriet almost exploded in laughter. With an effort she checked herself and whispered in Siobhan’s ear.

“I would think he is doing that, too. It is, after all, a delightful backside.”

Siobhan turned pink. She sputtered for a few seconds but was unable to answer. Harriet put a soothing hand on her friend’s arm.

“He got up your dander, didn’t he?”

“That, that impertinent, English ... Jack-a-dandy!” Siobhan expostulated.

“Yes, he is rather good-looking, wouldn’t you agree?” Harriet needled her friend.

“Insufferable is more the word I’d use to describe him!” Siobhan huffed, slowly composing herself again.

Harriet let it be then, and they finished their supper without further reference to Captain Trilby. They had the best room of the tavern, but they had to share it. Since the night on board the packet, Harriet and Siobhan had not had the time for a repeat of their tryst, and barely enough time alone to talk about it. Now, with Jenny sleeping on a straw mattress in the same room, there was no privacy either. Harriet and Siobhan shared the large bed, though, and once Jenny extinguished the light, Harriet reached for Siobhan’s hand. To her surprise, she found that Siobhan flinched under her touch.