A grumbling Preserved Killick cleared the table from the officers' mess before returning with dessert – cakes procured from Sao Paulo, and also brought sherry and wine.

That afternoon, earlier than Jack had expected, and using the lines or the hoist, several of the captains had arrived on "Surprise", at the invitation of Admiral Pellew.

Cicely looked at the officers around the table now, as they all tucked into dessert, all come because of Pellew. The Admiral had kissed her lightly as dinner began, regaling the company with their meeting and trusting that the animals obtained in Sao Paulo market were what the doctor needed. Stephen told him they were more than enough, enough to spend their journey around the Horn analysing and studying.

John Howard had returned, he told the men, to find Cicely but, when he could not, awaited the "Surprise's" boats and arrested three men for lewd, drunken behaviour. They had pressed their suit to the daughter of one of the city's landladies and the discussion had spilled out onto the street.

"To save further embarrassment to the Service I arrested them and let them regain their senses before informing respective captains." Neither were from Captain Aubrey's number, but Pengelly of "Honourable" and Pullings – their very own Lieutenant Pullings of old – currently captain of "Emilia" both claimed them as their own and had duly imprisoned them in the hold on the ropes, until that morning.

""Honourable" was at the Siege of Alexandria," observed Aubrey, distributing wine as the captains and officers, sated by good and hearty food, "she was a toop."

"Indeed she was!" declared Captain Pengelly, raising his glass. "We have had her refitted and remodelled as a short frigate. She sails with far greater efficiency now."

Indefatigable's sailing master had been invited, and had just finished a reminiscence of serving with Prince William Henry; of how the prince was to be kidnapped and held for ransom in America. Sailing master Perry, of "Halcyon", a man older than Mr. Allen, had then turned the conversation to the revolutionary war, with the Surprise's sailing master discussing the numbers of British soldiers rescued from the sea when the Americans had turned, fighting them back to the beach in Massachusetts and into the waves. In 1786 he had been stationed in West Indies under Nelson – they had been good friends – and then in 1788, captaincy of HMS Andromeda rear admral, an then to HMS Valiant as captain, before ceased responsibility roles in 1790.

"I do declare, what a remarkable life you have had, sir!" Pengelly toasted Perry deferentially. "I had a sailing master with me departed at "New York" who served with Prince William Henry." He looked about his peers. " There has long been strong rumour, especially of late with voice given to alliance with Napoleon, that the President, Benjamin Franklin himself, has devised it."

"Tosh, I say!" laughed the Admiral. "Should we be telling tales of our battles and - "he turned to Mrs Pellew, taking up her hand and kissing it, smiled heartily, " - our wives and sweethearts!"

"...may they never meet..." echoed the room automatically, invoking the Service's unofficial reply to such a toast.

Mrs Pellew smiled at Cicely, obviously pleased to be in her husband's company, her heart soft with joy. All the same, there were better toasts to her name, but by the look on the Admiral's wife's face, she didn't care. Cicely recognised her contentedness: she had her Stephen. But, by the look on his face there seemed to be something that sat ill with him, that hadn't at the start of Christmas dinner.

"Is it true you saved all hands of a merchant ship on the way here, Lieu- Captain Pullings?" Jack swigged his sherry as he replaced his spoon into his bowl. The cake, coloured with saffron and flavoured with caraway seed, had been fine indeed.

"Yes, sir," replied James Pullings, his intense eyes sparkling at the compliment. "It seemed the captain had become ill, and the crew unable to handle their tub. They got into difficulties in the Forties and we helped bring her to harbour here. The captain, it seemed, ignored the signs of the squalls, but could not bring himself to admit fault. How they'll ever get to the Cape of Good Hope I still have no idea, but their captain intends it."

"Ha! How, indeed! A whole continent away!" Jack slapped his leg, before composing himself a little. Such behaviour would be acceptable amongst the "Surprise" officers, but perhaps a little too loose for Christmas afternoon with others of his rank – and one far senior.

"A good cake, Captain," commented Captain Hall, nodding at his empty dish. "Will you thank your messman?"

"Indeed I will, though he will complain heartily," replied Jack. "He does not like to..."

"...cook with anything new?" suggested Hall.

"...cook with anything...unfamiliar," corrected Jack, grinning mirthfully. "He did the best with the main."

Indeed, thought Cicely, as she recalled their dinner just now. There had been roast bird at the table: not goose, for it looked too small, partidge perhaps, or grouse. These had been salted, and were offcuts; little that could be found at a market, Jack had declared over the meal, was fit for Christmas, and remarked that had he not, perhaps other items bought at market would have had to have sufficed.

"You avoided the temptation to serve up the good Doctor's Christmas gift?" Admiral Pellew had remarked, speaking of the few larger birds Cicely had procured, along with the apes and now, the whole company were laughing along with Jack.

"I understand you have been in England of late, Doctor?" Captain Pengelly looked at Stephen, his rounded featues appearing deep-set in his face, appearing to have a sharper edge to them as he queried. "We heard news of Austerlitz. A terrible, terrible blow, especially after the glory at Trafalgar. Pray, could you avail us of details of the most dreadful attack?"

The room was quiet now. Glasses were poised, still, or unmoving on the table. All were set, ready to hear what Stephen had to say. Some had not heard the news, or even the name of the battle, neither through Admiralty orders or local news. Stephen sighed deeply. Cicely rested her hand lightly on his.

"Indeed. Bonaparte has won a victory there, and opened the door of the land in the East where the sea in the West has proved unpenetrable. They have soundly defeated the Austrians and the Russians had to retreat, and regroup. So many men have been lost."

The east...

...that direction rang a bell in Cicely's mind. Something about Stephen's visit to London, and the east...

"And Humboldt? Isn't he himself in London?" Pellew smiled at Stephen as he spoke the name of the man whose work had turned out of late to be the key to his academic future.

"Indeed, but it's his legacy which is the most important to me, Admiral," Stephen replied, smiling. "He was of late in the company of Simon Bolivar."

"The revolutionary?"

"Some say so." He looked across to Jack, to whom he had imparted the very same information that afternoon. "The Spaniards loyal to the Castilian crown are not at all pleased by the civil unrest with the creoles and the freed black slaves, as well as the indigeous indians. Had it not been for him, or indeed Alexander von Humboldt, not my darling wife Cicely, on whose behalf I attended London, I would not have gained an advantage that has...that has..." he looked across to Cicely, his face one of contentment now, and satisfaction "...that has turned the tide on my work. All would have been nought, and my years of work wasted."

Ciclely felt herself redden as Stephen drew up her hand and kissed it: such an outpouring was not in her husband's usual manner. Yet the manners of a lady within her were enough for her to take it with grace, and she thanked her husband for his kind words.

"A toast!" Jack's words brought Cicely's contemplations to the present. He refilled glasses, the dark red liquid glinting in the tallow candle-light. "To those who are with us, who can touch us and make us whole."

"Indeed!" The officers, Cicely and Mrs Pellew raised their glasses to the floor of the deck above.

"To those from whom we are apart, who live in our hearts and in our minds."

"Indeed!"

"And to past victories – may God permit them to be repeated!"

"Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!"

Jack lowered his glass, still standing. All eyes were on him, for he seemed not to be finished.

"Indeed, it is a bad move, in Spain, to have neglected Spanish Grenada, and the whole of the South Americas," commented Admiral Pellew, fixing his eyes on Aubrey. "Yet the Portuguese have all but relocated to Buenos Aires."

"And this takes me to our mission." Jack held the floor again, and it would seem to Cicely that the Captain had been given permission to speak freely. Pellew raised an eyebrow, and a glass.

"It is not a coincidence that I meet with Admiral Pellew today. The good Admiral has his papers which take him East, and to India. Mine also coincide. As the good doctor so aptly put - " he turned his face to him, glancing too at Cecilia, " whose recounting of the dreadful action in Europe, Bonaparte has been forced to look East for Imperial prospcts. The coincidence for us is that I am to support the Admiral in the East as he travels to India."

"And yourself, Mrs Maturin?" Mrs Pellew leaned towards Cicely, her rows of pearls dangling like an inverted rainbow, and she smiled warmly. "My husband tells me you have family in Indonesia? And you have of late travelled with Captain Aubrey, as you are with your husband. Pray tell me, where did you meet?"

"Aboard the ship, Madam," replied Cicely. "Captain Aubrey was kind enough to offer me shelter under the protection of His Majesty's Royal Navy." A very abridged aversion, and she tried not to catch the expressions of anyone – Stephen; Jack; Will Blakeney – who knew the details, for she would be sure their expression would be easy to detect.

"And will you remain aboard?"

"Indeed Madam," smiled Cicely, "I have been given leave to do so by the Lord Admiral himself. But no, instead I travel West too; my uncle owns land, not in Indonesia, but Sarawak, on the Carteret Islands and has made a deal of money there. He has invited me to join him. This suits all our needs," she added, laying down her glass, feeling the desperate panic of a few days before Stephen had returned, of her time being precious and running out as they journeyed there. Stephen took her hand again, and she looked him, smiling with gratitude that he was now with her.

"My husband's work takes him into the Pacific also, with both intricate knowledge and financial support. So, I suppose, Bonaparte's needs, and our response to them have worked in everyone's favour!"

"And the animals?" Edward Pellew's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. Cicely looked a little worried. But perhaps he would have told her yesterday if he hadn't permitted them.

"We will abide them with good grace," Jack Aubrey replied graciously.

"And they will be of use, Dr Maturin?" inquired Mrs Pellew further, her eyes resting now upon Stephen.

"Inded so. I hope to confirm, and refute, many conjectures made about the natural world in the Americas. My business in England, amongst other things, put me in touch with Humboldt, and it is now clear that I must accelerate my work in order to have a viable thesis. " Cicely lookd at him, his face a little taut at the revelation. This seemed wrong again. Stephen hardly ever voiced detail, even less so in the company of virtual strangers.

"Humboldt detailed all of the Americas, Admiral. His maps were used in assessing the accuracy of the land division that Bonaparte instigated, the Louisiana Purchase, in order to fund the wars that Europe now finds itself. Bolivar has the ambition to unite the Southern Americas into one country, as Washington did in the Independence Wars."

"I feel there is doubt about the Northern Americans of late," interjected Pellew, "hence their plausible kidnap plot of Prince William Henry. They are not as united as they may seem. Canada has been threatened from the East. I fear we have not quite finished with the Northern Americas quite yet while there is a very real threat to Canada from its southern border."

The talk continued, politics to naval strategy. Bonaparte to the Prince Regent. HMS Aquilon on the Glorious First of June, 1794 and how, while it was a British victory, a French convoy had got through. The bouncing cannon that thad been of good fortune and turned the Battle of the Nile to the British. The desperate need of accurate maps and naval charts. Stephen had commented that it was in pursuit of accurate mapping that his father had succumbed to injuries, which had probably been the beginning of the end of his career.

It was John Howard who asked her to step outside, wondering whether Cicely would like to feel the summer air on Christmas night, an experience he most certainly would like to experience. They were joined by Mrs Pellew, as the intensity of political debate had swung towards Ireland, beginning with Jack's story of a Francis Beaufort, of Meath, who was trying to improve the measurement of wind speed.

"..I wish him luck, but I fear his efforts will come to nothing," Cicely heard Jack say as they closed the door on the officer's mess.

"I sensed that post-prandial discussions were weighing heavily, Mrs Maturin." John Howard approached the edge of the ship, leaning firmly against the wood. The deck, which was still light of crew, celebrating at liberty Christmas night, did indeed feel less repressive than the gentlemen discussing politics and war, into which the conversations had developed.

"You were saying, Mrs Maturin, how the good Captain had been instrumental in your protection," Mrs Pellew approached, and joined them, keen to press her as to the details of her presence aboard. Shrewd, thought Cicely, as she assessed the woman, her firm, but agile frame; her determined, yet pleasant face. At the woman's demeanour, Cicely felt that she did not mind revealing some of the finer details. "How did you come to be aboard?"

"I fancy you know how," Cicley guessed, suddenly feeling as enclosed as the post-dinner talks had indeed been making her feel.

"Well, Edward did say you had an unusual story," replied Mrs Pellew. And so, right at that moment, Cicely told her, much to the woman's – and John Howard's astonishment. Most astonished of all, however, was Cicely herself.

"My word, young lady!" Mrs Pellew's mouth was open in shock, and also, Cicely noticed, a kind of admiration. "I am in awe at your dare! To travel half way around the world would be astonishing enough," she raised her arms in exclamation. "And then to flee your guardianship and arrive back here - "

" - in a round-about way," Cicely nodded. She hadn't given too much away to the woman, though she was clearly familiar with the take surrounding Jack's court-martial.

"Tell me, do you and the doctor have plans for a family, now that you are both wed? Perhaps when you get to the Carteret Islands? To your Uncle?" Ms Pellew smiled, encouragingly.

Cicely felt herself stop, the swell of the ship under her legs all that her conscious mind was registering. She was proud of her presence aboard "Surprise" with Jack, and Stephen, with their goal being the Pacific. However she had not been prepared for this question and it took her aback.

"I have been injured of late..." Cicely felt her mouth speak. "However..." she turned her head back to the cabin, a soft, balmy breeze tickling her cheek, and she recalled the time, in Jack's quarters...when the baby came too soon...

This time...she hadn't had the same emotion of it as usual, only the sound, that of the door creaking open, and that of the sea, and the recollection at the terrible memory...

Cicely was aware of both Mrs Pellew and John Howard staring at her, and she forced her mind back to the present, and a suitable reply.

"I dare say that in time, nature will take its course and God will bless us. The Carteret Islands would be a good place to raise a child. Do you have children, Mrs Pellew?"

This time, it was the Admiral's wife who looked back awkwardly.

"We have not been so fortunate. Edward...he has been away on campaigns most of our married life. Nature can only take its course within limits," she added, this time breaking into a warm smile. "As my husband works, I indulge in society, on his behalf."

"Indeed, and has your acquaintance been held in Bath?" John Howard stepped nearer Cicely, engaging Lady Pellew in conversation.

"Not of late – I have of late been in the Midlands. Do you have interest in Bath?" Captain Howard held his arm for Mrs Pellew, who nodded, glancing back to Cicely, smiling as they began to walk towards the mizzen. Cicely felt, for the second time in twenty four hours, gratitude for the marines captain's consideration of her feelings, turning herself towards the sea again, and to the swell of people on the wharfs.

Cicely wondered what it would be like, for a moment, to be a Papist; they had attended mass with Catholics the previous night, when Cicely had felt so uncomfortable, almost worse than having not attended a Christmas service at all. They believed the same, after all, that Christ was their redeemer in Heaven. And yet...what was it that Wesley advocated? Her mother had explained it once to Cicely, on a walk into the woods, where the bluebells grew. Conscience of the mind. To do unto others as they would do to you. Sacrifice your time on Earth for eternal life with God. Not worship trinkets and objects. That was no better than the pagans, who believed stones would heal, and that the sun would not rise if they didn't lay out their armour in a certain pattern.

"...and I must beg your forgiveness, Captain..." Cicely's mind registered the voice of Mrs Pellew as it was endeavouring to excuse her from John Howard's escort. "I, oh, I remember now, that I was of a mind to speak to Mrs Maturin on a matter of mutual interest..."

Cicely felt her heart sink in her chest. She turned to Mrs Pellew, smiling kindly, taking in Captain Howard's apologetic expression.

"I fancy some of my acquaintances attended a social event to which the doctor visited, Mrs Maturin? His keenness in acquiring information was intense," she added, as Cicely nodded inwardly. How like Stephen, to be relentess in obtaing what he needed, thought Cicely. But there was worse to come, for the social event to which the Admiral's wife was referring was none other than the social gathering at Tamworth, in the Midlands, for George Villiers."

"...however there is a particular man – Jew – by the name of George Canning..." Mrs Pellew went on, oblivious to the weight her words were having on Cicely. "My cousin was also invited, and mentioned to me you good husband's presence." Cicely nodded, hoping the older woman would take the hint and end the conversation because of it. Unfortunately, her silence seemed to be interpreted as an invitation to continue.

"There has been the talk of society...how Canning has risen up remarkably quickly into politics; what has he done to race up the ranks? He has interests around Liverpool, so I am given to understand." She flapped at her face with one hand to cool it. Cicely was in need of cooling down, but for another reason. She knew, of course, whose company Stephen had kept at that dinner, and her face and neck felt as if her emotion was burning through her skin.

"He and George Villiers entered Parliament together, and by the looks of it both rose quickly. Villiers was the one destined for greatness in all things political; now he is the MP in Tamworth, a born diplomat. Canning himself, respectfully...well, of course, it is the Jewish way, to take the opportunities without respecting the circumstances, do you not find? Oh, but my dear, am I boring you? You look quite pale."

"Tell me a little of this Mr Villiers. Are you acquainted with him personally?" Something akin to a clamp was squeezing Cicely's stomach now; the humid alehouse made her feel clammy and cold at the same time. Villiers. That was a name buried deep in her brain, which Cicely had bade never to be thought again, in order to be a true wife. It had come as a shock, and an unwelcome one at that.

"No," she replied. "Not directly. Diana, his cousin, knew my wife's sister well and we have attended several functions. The woman is bereft of all fortune, for her husband died out in India – Captain in the army, but with little fortune."

"Diana Villiers?"

"Diana Villiers," Cicely echoed, quite without intent.

"You know Mrs Villiers yourself, Mrs Maturin?" Cicely's mouth was dry. "Change the subject!" her brain was screaming.

"Not...exactly. But her name is...familiar..."

"I feel rather sorry for the woman;" continued Mrs Pellew, oblivious to Cicely's discomfort. "I have met her once or twice: beautiful, of course, but she knows it, and that to me is a mask of ugliness. Rumour had it her husband beat her. She lasted a pauper's life in the company of some of her cousins – the wife of Captain Aubrey, I believe?" She raised his eyebrows as if to enquire, but she said nothing, hoping to show ignorance. And considering what she had seen in Diana Villiers' letter to Stephen, Cicely felt she wanted to be next in line.

"However she is mistress to Canning now, so my cousin Hebe, Mrs Gardiner-Ewers is given to understand."

And then Cicely felt the prickling of emotion behind the sinuses in her nose, eyes bristling with tears at the shame that her anger allowed her to be overcome by the past, and what could be argued was a misunderstanding. She had vowed to honour her marriage with by thinking the best and making no judgments. And here she was now, a part of her own callous weakness on display to her consciousness that was equally as repugnant. Would she hit the woman, given a chance?

In any case...

"...the marriage is disputed, or so I hear..." Diana Villiers had written these words in a private letter to Stephen. An internal smirk of triumph crossed through her very being; if the woman were of a mind to hear now she would find that her understanding was now incorrect. It wasn't as if she didn't trust him – Cicely had spent time when Stephen was in England thinking about the letter and his role in proceedings. No written evidence had supported the woman's claims, and then Stephen had promised her faithfully that Diana was out of his life for good.

...he could have married the woman, after all, if he'd a mind to. And he had instead chosen Cicely.

But then, it wasn't her husband Stephen doubted, it was more the arrogant tone. Diana Villiers made her rise and feel defensive.

Maybe it was Fouche, then, the French spymaster, who had taken the libery of sharring the fact that Stephen had shared such intimate details with her. Despite the evening's breeze that was blowing from the quay, Cicely was feeling faint, and hot again.

"Are you quite all right, my dear?" Cicely realised the woman was looking at her curiously. "May I confide, Mrs Maturin, my opinion in your great fortune."

"...m...my fortune...?" What did this woman know of that?

"You are fortunate," Mrs Pellew rephrased, in that you have the courage of your convictions, and not be defined by your class or position in society. I can see why he loves you."

Cicely looked back at the woman in amazement, her face one of accurate insight to Cicely's muteness. Well, partially right. Technically, Mrs Pellew outranked her socially, but Cicely had foregone society, so this measure was irrelevant. And yet the woman perceived far more than her ebullient nature conveyed.

"Diana Villiers is, my dear, beautiful, graceful, charming and witty. And clearly quite vain and self-centred. But, as I say, I pity her prevous match. That she may have charmed your husband before you met him is the past, Cicely," she added, looking towards the cabin door, which had opened. Admiral Pellew stepped out into the balmy, summer's air, Mrs Pellew blushed like a debutante as her husband smiled at her.

"This is the present. You are with the person you adore, and believe me when I say, if you know love to be true this will remain with you for the rest of your days." She watched Edward Pellew cross the bleached, pristine boards, holding out his hand towards his wife.

"Oh, to be young again and to have adventues, Mrs Maturin. Please feel free to call on me any time, Mrs Maturin. I am no stranger to the unconventional; I find society life very limiting and hypocritical.

Admiral Pellew bowed his head to Cicely, as Mrs Pellew took his hand.

"May I invite you back to the table, Mrs Pellew?" The Admiral looked into his wife's adoring face as Captain Howard, who had disappeared back into Jack's quarters, reappeared and approached them, proffering Cicely's hand too.

"Your husband is seeking your company for the remainder of the meal. And a special toast to the Captain on his Post Captaincy."

As they seated themselves back around the table, having caught the tail end of a potential money-making scheme, that of a guano company who had set up on the rocks off Chile, selling bird excrement as fertiliser, or a soil neutraliser.

Their conversation faded, as Cicely stood by Stephen – all were on their feet as Admiral Pellew congratulated Jack on his promotion and his action with Strachan in the Bay of Biscay.

"To Captain Aubrey! May your past successes be the path to future ones! With me! In the Orient! Future success!"

"Future success!" echoed the company, and for once, in honour of her ex-captain and good friend, Cicely overlooked her beliefs, sipping heartily at the sherry, to praise him.

88888888

In their cabin that evening, once the company had departed, all was quiet, unsually so.

The Pellews had wished both of them a good night and a Merry Christmas and luck, to both her venture to the Carteret Islands, and for Stephen's commission. Howard had taken her hand, and apologised again for losing her the previous day, before recounting Christmases past aboard "Surprise". Then Captain Aubrey had bidden her goodnight.

"My orders are favouable and, with the Admiral's help, I should make Admiral of the Blue before next Christmas. It is not a coincidence that his ship and my ship met here, shall we say."

No indeed. Nothing in the service was a coincidence, and if it was down to luck, then God had willed it.

"Goodnight, Cicely," finished Jack, beaming heartly from the merriment and the rum, before bending to kiss her on the cheek. "Merry Christmas," he added, making way for the second time in twenty four hours for his friend to take his former mizzenlad's hand.

However, before he could do so, one of the ship's Middies approached Stephen, a little worse for wear, and nursing his left hand.

"If you please, Doctor," Midshipman Exe stammered, "from the lines," he added, thrusting it in Stephen's direction. But Stephen Maturin was not deterred and, not taking his eyes from Cicely replied, "is it going to fall off from your wrist by the morning, man?" before escorting Cicely to their cabin.

As Stephen undressed to his undergarments, Cicely had been about to say that Stephen should not deny the man treatment on her account, but thought better of it. He was intent on leaving the entertainment early, unlike him to shun time with Jack, unless there was a large section of work that needed his utmost attention.

"Do you like your animals, Stephen?"

"Very much so, my darling. They are exactly, exactly what I need to continue my work," he added, throwing the gown he had bought for her that Christmas Day into the corner of their cabin and drawing her close, in her underwear, his hands playing in her short hair. Suddenly he withdrew from her, his face cold.

Cicely said nothing, waiting. After a moment, Stephen began to talk to her, but his words sounded hollow, and cold.

"I feel I owe you an explanation," he began. Cicely felt herself shiver, despite the warm summer air.

"Sit, sit by me," he added, as he lowered himself into his hammock and, obediently, she did. Was this it? The time he told Cicely of her, Diana Villiers? Was her marriage to the man she so passionately adored, admired and loved going to be over before it had barely begun?

"I mentioned to you of a man named Bonplan?" Cicely murmured a "yes."

"He was attending the gathering as a guest of the MP...Villiers, in Tamworth, and he remembered me for, when I was in Paris, having left "Surprise" after you had gone to live with Sophie Aubrey I chanced upon a meeting von Humboldt had with a man of South American origin, someone who is, by dint of political leaning, and an advocate of Bonaparte."

"It is von Humboldt's travels which brought me back here, advanced my position, as you know." Stephen looked across to his desk, where Cicely knew his notes to be, that he had acquired in New Spain.

"Bolivar..." Cicely murmured, and she felt Stephen turn towards her in the half-light.

"Indeed, my darling. Von Humboldt met the man before Napoleon's accession to Emperor, and admired the nature of his politics as regards to royalty. Von Humboldt, in turn, carried the message with him, so to speak, to the South Americas. Bonaparte, via Humboldt has now given Bolivar an opportunity he could never have dreamed of. Spain and Portugal are now governed by Bonaparte; the Portuguese have relocated down to Brazil. Which means that Venezuela and Grand are prime to overthow Spain due to this weakness.

"There's to be a revoution?"

"There already has been several." Stephen's eyes were glimmering in the setting sun's weak rays, that had found the correct angle in which to reflect off the highly polished As such, several groups of fighting men have been in need of a medically trained man. One such was Bolivar himself. He traded his health for information left behind by von Humbolt, something the Prussian didn't think he needed. It is the linchpin for my whole thesis; without it, I could be thinking years before it's completed." Cicely felt him sigh next to her, as if getting something off his chest.

"So, it was at Villiers's party I realised he knew that what he had left with Bolivar would be what he needed to complete his thesis. I did not let on, and left the company of the Darwins the next day. I was so utterly depressed! To think what the man has already achieved! His work that you are combing through, he has inferred plants on both sides of North and South America, and their equivalent torrid and temperate zones, connections of land somehow.

"I consider him a man of my own thinking, Cicely, and he has classical thinkers in his social circle – Goethe, Schiller, a skilled generalist, and here I am still collecting samples to analyse. Even the artist William Turner has him in his thrall; after Tamworth, Von Humboldt was to take up several social engagements with the man, in London."

"So, Bolivar?" she prompted. "How does he fit in? What was it he wanted?"

"I said as much at dinner that he wants to overthrow the Royal Spanish rule and unite the country as a United States. I was in the position to give him information that would be of critical use to him in exchange for information left behind by von Humboldt." He turned towards his desk again, sticking out an arm.

Of course, thought Cicely. Stephen was from Catalonia. It was as Jack had alluded to. The Catalans had fought for centuries for independence from Castile. What would a patriotic Catalan man do but to undermine Castilian authority when he sees it? And a perfect opportunity would be with a man who was in a position to overthrow Castilian royal power.

"It was immoral, I know. But to give him his due, Bonplan and von Humboldt both wished me well in my study. I hadn't exactly told them in its entirety of what my work comprised. I was then able to gain passage on a Clipper, a very fast ship, costly, to Caracas, in order to meet with Simon Bolivar, and give him vital intelligence for his work. He could then give me this - "

From his loose undershirt Stephen pulled a roll of paper, firmly bound, but efficiently written, as if the author had to consider the volume the work would undertake.

"I am sorry to tell you that, as well as Zoonomia, these treastie into the fauna and nature of Venezuela will also need to be cross-referenced." He threw them a few feet onto his desk, disturbing the tail feathers of a Quetzal that had been the subject of Stephen's dissection over which he had been deeply engaged as she had awoken that morning.

"But oh, Cicely, when I think of the chain of events that have led me to here...all these things I would not be able to do my darling wife, had it not been for you! And then I return and you've given me another gift so perfect I would but ask if you are an angel sent by the Lord himself!".

"Your father's death has given me the means to fund my return to the South Seas, to gather enough evidence to use his own against him, I have time, but...so many parts of this feel wrong..." Stephen pulled himself from under her, and to his feet, rubbing his hair with his hand, a pained look on his face.

"I hold no grievance towards Humboldt...but to know what I did in order to get my information, and then, when I met Bolivar..."

Cicely smiled. No grievance? Von Humboldt was descended from the Hapsburgs; has gained royal favour and funding; he has not had to work his way around the world; he will publish his research, not for the common good but as a relief from boredom. He's a protestant; you're a Catholic And most importantly, he is opposed to you, Stephen. For a man with no religion you are following the laws of nature as if it were a ritual and, more importantly, so is Humboldt. It's as if you''re carrying out a holy war against the man. What have I missed?

"I think you have been nothing more than opportunistic. If he wanted that work he wouldn't have left it behind."

"And yourself, Cicely? You wish to ask me something?"

"Jack told me about something.." She didn't mean it to slip out; that her husband had returned to her and with such an advantage to his work. How could there be a better Christmas present than seeing her husband so happy? He saw his face cloud a little.

No. She told herself firmly. You will not reopen the subject. The marriage is no longer disputed. That was the past. This is the present. If one keeps rereading the last chapter of their lives, how can one go on to write the next?

"That you intend to travel with him after I go to my Uncle at the Carteret Islands." She hoped it would be enough, and looked at him earnestly.

"Indeed," conceded Stephen, getting up too, "indeed, my gallant darling..." He held out a hand, and she took it. They looked at one another. The young woman, rebellious, and yet fiercely loyal to her family, shunning convention and yet respecting it; the older man, opium addict and brilliant naturalist, apolitical, Catholic. Objective, and yet, up until six weeks before, in the pay of a state with hierarchical monarchy.

"I have missed you so very much! My work should be a thousand times faster in its completion. And, while you have continued to have adventues in my absence in order to secure me beasts of these lands I have returned to you empty-handed, with nothing to make you sparkle and shine!"

Cicely smiled at her husband, the warmth of the season in her heart, pity for Mrs Villiers' treatment, if Mrs Pellew's word was to be taken at face value. What did it matter about Diana Villiers? It was the future, not the past that concerned them now.

She drew close to Stephen, and held onto him with the embrace of someone whose life now was with that other person irreversibly intertwined and with equanumity Cicely whispered close to his chest, whether there could be any true a gift than to see her clever husband so contented?

"Today, I have new material from trusted naturalists on which I can thoroughly rely. I have time and I have money in which to pursue my commission." He looked at Cicely with eyes happier than she had ever remembered seeing them. "I can take the next step! You can write my next chapter!"

In the candle-lit cabin, on Christmas night, Mrs Maturin and the good doctor began their new chapter.