Although the next week was tense, Alexandra and James muddled through it by doing what they did best; each spent as much time as possible away from the household and tried to ignore the strained atmosphere that existed between them.

Alexandra launched her campaign to ensnare Dr. Smythe and found rather disappointingly that the battle was over before she had to fire even one of her weapons. Dr Smythe had proven to be an eager and ardent admirer and had happily spent additional hours in her company. At first his puppy like adoration had been a balm to Alexandra's bruised ego but by the close of the fifth day she had to privately admit that it was growing rather wearing. Still, she would proceed with her plan because it was the only one she had.

James was having his own difficulties putting his plan into action. He had yet to hear from Will and his better judgment was beginning to doubt the wisdom of the course of action that he had decided upon. However, he had to admit to himself that relations with Alexandra were the poorest they had ever been and he certainly needed someone's advice on how to get her to talk to him again, let alone get her into his bed. So when Will's short missive designating a name, time, and place arrived, James decided to cast aside his doubts and keep the appointment. He might have reservations but it was the only plan he had.

The door opened and James' first thought was; I'm going to find a way to slowly and painfully kill William Turner. A large exceptionally well endowed woman with artificially bright red hair greeted him. She was at least as old as his mother. There were some limits as to what he should be expected to endure in this pursuit. Was this Will's idea of a joke?

"Here then you must be the gent that young Will told me to be expecting. Well don't stand there dawdling, come on in. I've not got all day," she bossily ordered him and grabbed his arm pulling him over the threshold.

With wounded dignity James snatched his arm back and gave the woman his best glare, "I presume that you are Miss Gladys Rose?"

Gladys surveyed the stiffly formal man and realized that she had her work cut out for her. When Will had approached her with this request she hadn't been inclined to take the job. After all she'd been out of the business for years and had managed to save enough to live reasonably comfortably. Yet when she'd heard the details she'd been intrigued. The deciding factor had been when she learned who was to benefit from her lessons. Gladys genuinely liked Miss Alexandra and she did not like many of her own sex. But Miss Alexandra and her poppa Dr. Hamilton had always treated the prostitutes with courtesy and respect. In Gladys' book, that made Miss Alexandra more of a lady than most of those toffee nosed women who treated the less fortunate like the dirt beneath their nails. What an unusual pair he and Miss Alexandra made but if he were good enough in Miss Alexandra's opinion then Gladys would give him the benefit of a doubt. The first thing she needed to do was shake him out of his air of control and dignity. With this aim in mind, she deliberately broadened her accent and mannerisms.

"That I be, dearie. Not whatcha you was expecting?' she laughed, "Expectin some pretty young lass were you? And here Will told me that you was interested in learnin about pleasin a lady and not the other way round."

James, who had been about to bolt, considered this accusation. The lady in question was correct; he was here to learn how to please Alexandra and should at least listen to what Gladys Rose had to offer. "Very well Miss Rose. I am at your disposal."

Slowly circling him she asked," "What's yer package like?"

"My package?"

"You're a tall un. Reckon it's adequate for the job. Still it's not the size of the dinghy but the motion in the ocean, eh? But you'd know all about that being a seaman. " She cackled and added "A man reaches your age knowin nothin bout pleasin a lady got to wonder of his interests lay elsewhere."

As the inferences became clear to James he was at first outraged, then flustered, and then saddened. This plan was not going to work and the devil of it was that he truly did need some female advice. "I do not believe that this arrangement will work. I apologize for wasting your time, Miss Rose."

Having correctly read his attitude of defeat and taking pity on him, Gladys dropped her act and simply said, "Take a seat, Commodore. I can help you more than you realize." Noting his startled expression at her change in speech and the use of his title she added, "Did you really think that forgoing wearing your uniform would be a disguise? Port Royal is a small town and you are Commodore of the fort. Of course I know who you are, but, as I assured Will, I could not have stayed in business as long as I did if I did not know how to hold my tongue. Besides, I have had some dealings with your wife and her late father and I hold them both in high esteem. I would do nothing to embarrass her."

James considered her for a moment and then accepted the truth of her statement. He tentatively offered, "I am not certain as to how you can assist me but I need some advice."

"Why don't you tell me the problem from the beginning and we'll see if I can help you figure out what to do next?"

So James poured out the story for the second time in less than a fortnight. This time he did it without the benefit of half a bottle of whiskey and found that it was much more embarrassing this way. What an unholy mess he'd made of things.

For a few minutes after he'd finished his tale, Gladys silently contemplated the problem. Since she knew Alexandra, she was aware that the solution was not as straight forward as it might be with other women. "Well the fact that she… how did you put it?" Gladys remembered his wording, "That she mewled is a good sign. It shows that there is definitely desire present."

"I knew that was important," James triumphantly declared and felt vindicated that Gladys saw the importance of that little sound even though Will had dismissed it.

"Well seeing as how you're in love with her…" she began but was interrupted by James.

"I am not in love…' and here he faltered. He had been about to automatically deny that he loved Alexandra when the truth of it fell upon him like a ton of bricks. Of course he loved her! Would he even have considered demeaning himself like this if he didn't? Suddenly the awkward silences, the tensions, and his anger at her suggestion regarding extracurricular activities all made sense. He sat silently stunned by this discovery.

"Just figured it out have you?" Gladys kindly asked. "Well that should help matters. Do you know if she is as ignorant of her feelings as you were of yours until this moment?"

With great difficulty James admitted, "I do not believe that she feels the same as I."

"Nonsense. Of course she does or she would not have married you."

"I told you. She had no choice. Lily was determined to marry her off to Rowlands and I suppose that it was a case of the devil she knew."

"Commodore Norrington, do you really believe that Miss Alexandra would stand for being told what to do, especially by someone such as Lily? Law or no law she would have found a way to avoid the marriage if she had truly wished to do so."

James thought about this assertion. From childhood on Alexandra had never bowed to conventions or the demands of others. It was strange that she had somewhat meekly accepted her fate. It would have been more like her to stowaway on a ship to the colonies. She must have some feelings for him. If not love, they did at least have a basis of shared history and affection. That combined with the passion with which she'd returned his kisses would give him something he could build on and maybe in time her feelings would deepen. With this thought he demanded, "So tell me all that I need to know to please her."

Several hours later he left the house with a certainty that tonight would be memorable for both he and Alexandra. Tonight he would not merely bed his wife; he would make love to her. So wrapped up in his plans was he that he failed to notice Alexandra at the end of the street watching him come out of the house with a smile on his face and a bounce in his steps.

As Alexandra had watched James' departure she'd thought to herself that at last she had an answer as to where he had been spending his evenings. Mercifully, Dr. Smythe had still been in the tavern gathering up the measuring instruments and was not there to witness her humiliation. When he'd emerged from the tavern she'd surprised him with her suggestion, "Why don't we go to your rooms for some tea?" The good doctor had agreed with alacrity.

Now here she was an hour later and more miserable than ever. She was having a difficult time attending to the conversation because she kept replaying the earlier scene picturing James' smile and easy gait. "I'm sorry, Dr Smythe, could you repeat that? I'm afraid that my mind drifted."

"Oh you simply must call me, Simon. We know each other far too well to be so formal, Alex," he implored and then added shyly, "I'd like the chance to get to know you much better."

She felt a true stab of anger that he called her Alex. But for James, no one ever called her Alex and it sounded all wrong coming from this man's lips. She was about to rebuke him when her conscience reminded her that she had spent the last several days leading him to believe that such a familiarity would be welcome. Guilt led her to say, "Simon, you are fine and decent man and I am fortunate to have such a good friend." Before she could finish her gentle let down of his expectations, he threw himself at her feet, clasped her hands in his, and began covering them with kisses.

"I knew it. I knew that you must feel the same as I. Oh Alex, you are such a magnificent woman! Your husband does not deserve you."

"Leave James out of this!" she declared heatedly.

Adopting a wounded look, he'd stammered, "Of course. Of course, dear Alex. How absolutely beastly of me to mention him. Let us forget about him." He stood and began to try to draw her into his arms.

Any trace of remorse for her previous actions was quickly dissipating. Alexandra resisted his pull and sounding quite a bit like her husband haughtily said, "You forget yourself, Dr. Smythe. Now please act a gentleman and unhand me."

Unfortunately for Smythe, he was so driven by the having the object of his secret desire near that he failed to see the warning signs of a vicious temper building in her eyes. He knew that ladies often acted coy to fuel a man's desire and assumed that Alexandra was playing this game. Ignoring her outraged protest he yanked her into his embrace and began smothering her face with kisses.

Really this was the limit, Alexandra fumed to herself. First seeing James' leaving his mistress's house and then this oaf assaulting her. How much was a woman expected to take? With this thought, she freed herself from the stifling and unwelcome embrace. Then she drew her right hand back and soundly punched Dr. Smythe in the eye.