Note: Uuum... Not necessarily accurate, in character, or anything. But my head hurts, and I can't think of anything else. xD Well, that's usually when my best material is written, anyways. Oo; Qualms about Charlotte's lack of control? Bonden's sudden appearance? Or praises? Review, dammit!

Another Note: Apologies on how long this took to get up. Writer's block is terrible, and working through it is worse. I think it's acceptable enough, even if it isn't quite so very brilliant, or up to the usual mark. Much love to you all.

Dedication: For my brother, even 'though he'll never read this - I will ALWAYS be in your corner, despite everything.


'Why do you always have to ruin everything, you horrid, HORRID old shrew?'

'Charlotte!' Fanny cried, tugging at her collar. Yet Charlotte wouldn't listen. She was glaring daggers towards Mrs Williams, and probably would have leapt, had Barrett Bonden, arrived only some time before, had not been holding her back at the arms. Her voice was a dry shout.

'You blasted, goddamn bitch!' Charlotte snarled. 'Don't you DARE speak of my Da as that, ever, EVER –'

'Charlotte Aubrey!'

Sophie stood at the door, pale and terrible. Her hands swayed slightly at her sides, but she was gazing intently at her daughter. Charlotte was coughing, a hoarse sound mixed with racking sobs. She was only just supported by the sailor, who was struggling to keep her from falling entirely to the ground. Fanny was glaring at Mrs Williams, tears streaming down her face. George looked blank, as 'though he could scarcely comprehend what everyone was on about.

'On your feet,' said Barrett quietly, and without another word, ushered Charlotte towards the door. George lingered for a moment, but vanished. Fanny was still staring with the amazing intensity. Mrs Williams trembled, back against the wall, and her pale face, while wrenched with fear, still held a fierce triumph.

Sophie glared at her mother. 'What did you say?' she demanded.

Mrs Williams, 'though ruffled, was still the same horrid old shrew. 'Don't you dare speak to me in that tone, Sophia,' she replied haughtily. 'Don't you dare allow yourself to take that tone with me.'

'What did you say?' Sophie repeated, the steely tone in her voice refusing to fade. 'Mama, I demand to know what it is that you said!'

Mrs Williams faltered for a moment, surprised to see her daughter in such a way. Usually, she could easily commandeer over little Sophia... 'I simply said that their father was a disgusting rake,' she said listlessly. 'I said that he was worthless, an adulterer, and that they needn't worry their little heads about him.' Her voice had a galling informality about it, and Sophie wavered at her mother's lack of concern.

Sophie appeared as 'though she were about to say something, but could not find the words. After a moment, she turned away from her mother, disgusted. 'Fanny,' she said. 'Go to your room, please.' Fanny held her stance, staring with loathing towards the old woman.

'Fanny,' Sophie repeated forcefully. 'Go to your room. Now.' Begrudgingly, the girl strode off, slamming the door behind her, and looking perfectly hateful.

Sophie exhaled slowly as she turned away from her mother and back out the way she had came. More often than not, she wished to fly off the handle at the old wretch, and a sense of envy and resent filled her bosom as she went back into the study, and back into sweet solitude.


'You will most certainly have to be off to Ulster now.'

Charlotte made no reply. She was sitting, rather sulkily, at the little miniature writing desk. She was looking rather intently at a silver spoon that she had, turning about lazily in her hands on her lap. Bonden frowned and took off his hat. 'You haven't naught to say about what you just did?' he continued, looking at the little girl with displeasure.

Fanny opened the door and slammed it behind her. Bonden winced. He had heard the door crash shut downstairs – that would be two doors to check for broken hinges. Petulant as her sister, she landed on the bed with a thump (another wince – that would more or less be needed to be checked, as well) and buried her face in the pillows.

'Where's George?' asked Charlotte after a moment, sniffing.

'I can't say I rightly know,' answered Barrett. 'Probably out in the field, at a guess, I'd say.'

'I hate her,' muttered Charlotte darkly. 'No respect – speaking on my da like that – wretched, whore-ridden WENCH.'

'Now, none of that!' said Bonden with a scowl. 'Much as I agree,' he put in a lower voice before raising it again, 'I can't have you talking on Mrs Williams like that. It ain't right, see?'

'She's going to tear the whole 'ouse apart!'

Fanny had lifted herself from the soft depths of the cushions and was staring at Bonden with amazing passion. Barrett was somewhat taken aback; he had known the twins since they had been born, and it was always, always Charlotte, hackles risen and claws unsheathed, ready to lash out. Yet now, Fanny had been agitated to the point where she couldn't stand it any longer.

'She's going to tear us all apart,' she said again, voice fading. 'I – I can't...' Fanny drew in a ragged breath.

Barrett looked at both, Charlotte at the desk, Fanny sobbing into the pillows, and shook his head. Both were loyal to their father, but defiance could only go so far. They were children, and couldn't really understand the seriousness of the matter. He couldn't be quite sure, but... 'I've to be back to your da,' said Barrett finally, breaking the silence. He moved towards the door.

One of the twins had moved from their places. It was Charlotte, a slip of paper in her hand, extended towards him. 'Give him this,' she said blankly. 'With our dear love. Please.'

Bonden stared at it, a torn piece of flowery stationary. Words were scrawled on both sides. Bonden nodded and took it. 'Ay, miss,' he said with a weak smile.

'Thankee.'


'Sir.'

Barrett Bonden stood aboard the deck of the Bellona, looking quite forlorn. The captain was looking out towards the offshore squadron, his expression dark with some far off worry. Bonden made a leg inexpertly.

Jack Aubrey started out of his inner contemplation and found his coxswain looking at him expectantly. 'Yes, Bonden?' he said blankly. The sailor, as far as Jack could tell, had come aboard when the Ringle had returned.

'Which I brought you a note, sir,' replied Bonden, handing Jack a scrap of paper, a faint pink colour. 'Which it's from Fanny – no, Charlotte. Er, well – I s'pose it's from both.'

Jack, looking surprised, took it with a small mutter of thanks, and folded it open. He squinted in the sun's fading light, and read the words of encouragement, of their most lasting love and devotion to he that sired them, and a good many other things that were considerably blotched and smudged by a clumsy hand. Jack smiled softly to himself.

'I cannot much say for Mam, or how she's turning things,' it read towards the end, 'but I do know that Mam's mam, Mrs Williams, is to go back to Bath. Her friend's husband has turned to be a criminal of some sort, and Grandmam is to be witness at the trial. I don't know if even she knows it yet, but I heard it from Dray, and we both know that his sources are usually aright. So, if I were to guess, things ought to get a lot better in the light of yourself.'

It finished with a couple of endearments, and finally a rather deliberate pair of signatures.

Stephen was in the Downs, Jack contemplated. Hopefully, Sophie would have at least of thought of perhaps forgiving him. With any luck... With any hope.