It was a grey April Day on the Traken Estate.

An estate which, historically, had commanded a great deal of esteem amongst those in high society. But now, it was a pale shadow of its former self. It wasn't just the weather that gave that impression; the very mood of the estates inhabitants was as dour.

This was especially true as the coach clattered along the long drive, towards the manor itself. It was an imposing sort of building, with large windows and even a few columns in the neo-roman style. However, many of the windows had not been cleaned in months and the grounds were, in many places, overgrown and uncared for. A large group of people were stood outside the main doors, all clattering and clamouring to speak to the master of the estate. Many of them carrying ledgers and account books.

The crowd noticed the carriage and, as the horses slowed to a stop, the groomsmen stood at the doors hurried forward, letting down the steps. Down which the visitor stepped.

He was a man of some means, and with a sharp intellect. The account manager for the estate; Mr Shepherd. Answering a few queries demanded by the assembled crowd with assurances that such financial matters would be dealt with soon (none of which were received with any positive emotion), he entered through the large doors, and was ushered by the butler towards the drawing room.

'Mr Shepherd; thank you for joining us!'

Sir Tremas of Traken smiled and gestured to a chair, which Mr Shepherd sank into, pulling various account books out of the case he was carrying. Sir Tremas was an older man, with a well-groomed crop of silvery hair. The baronet had once been a most handsome gentleman in his younger days, but such an appearance had slowly disappeared over time. His oldest step-daughter, Elisabeth, was sat in another chair, her expression as if a bad smell had gotten stuck up her nose. The other person in the room was Lady Russell, an older neighbour of the family and a woman of some distinction.

'Sir Tremas, I have gone over every inch of your accounts with a fine tooth comb…'

'And?' replied Sir Tremas. 'Good sir, please speak.'

Mr Shepherd sighed.

'I can only offer one source of action to you to remedy this state of affairs… you must retrench.'

'Impossible!' exclaimed Elisabeth. 'A baronet must be seen to live as a baronet!'

It was at this moment that the door opened, and a young woman entered. The second daughter of Sir Tremas; a woman of twenty-seven. Nyssa, the daughter of Sir Traken and his late first wife. A slight, delicate figure with curly hair that she kept pinned back, Nyssa was blessed with a kind disposition and a pair of bright green eyes. She quietly sat down next to Lady Russell, with whom she was close.

'My dear, please,' Tremas said, patting Elisabeth on the knee. 'I understand your argument but the time for such pride is not now.'

'If I may, Sir Tremas,' Lady Russell said, leaning forward slightly. 'I have taken the liberty of looking over your finances myself… with Nyssa's help, of course.'

'Nyssa?'

Elisabeth shot an irritated look at her step-sister.

Lady Russell's eyes flickered between the two sisters, before turning back to Sir Tremas.

'I would recommend moving to Bath; a family of your standing could live quite comfortably there, at a far lesser extent than at present. While you are there, you can rent the manor to Admiral Croft and his wife; another source of steady income which will help to steady your financial situation.'

'You have been a good friend to our family for many years,' Sir Tremas said, smiling. 'And something of a mother to Nyssa since the loss of my late first wife. I will… accept your recommendations.'

'But… to Bath?' Elisabeth exclaimed, aghast. 'Leave Traken Manor in the hands of… of…'

'The Admiral and Mrs Croft are of great esteem,' Lady Russell interjected. 'And, I may say, a fine family.'

'Yes,' said Sir Tremas. 'I seem to recall Ms Croft having a sister. You remember, she stayed with us for a while…'

'You are correct, sir,' Mr Shepherd nodded. 'A lady called… what was her name? Nyssa, do you remember?'

The room went slightly quiet as all eyes turned to Nyssa, on whose face a brief look of pain appeared before disappearing quickly.

''Vanka…'

'Hmm?'

'J-Jovanka,' Nyssa said, her voice trembling over the name as she answered Mr Shepherd's query. 'Her name was Jovanka.'

'You must forgive our confusion, Mr Shepherd,' Elisabeth said, chortling softly. 'Miss Jovanka was not a lady, a nobody, quite unconnected-'

There was a tinkle of porcelain, as Nyssa suddenly got to her feet, placed her saucer on the table and hurried over to the window, her back to the others. She stood like that for a few moments.

'My apologies, father,' she said, turning back to Sir Tremas. 'The fire… I became overheated.'

'Always the careful one,' Tremas said, smiling before turning back to Lady Russell. 'Yes, I believe the young sailor was acquaintances with Nyssa for a short while.'

'Indeed,' Lady Russell said, her eyes flicking back to Nyssa, who had sat back down in her seat, her lips thin. 'An excellent family.'

'But they are commoners!' Elisabeth exclaimed. 'Navy people; they have no wealth aside from what they have earned; imagine, father, such people swanning about around the manor-'

'Elisabeth,' sighed Tremas. 'What would you have me do? The finances of the estate has been in a shambles for years. To continue on, as we are, would be foolish. Besides, Bath is arguably just as fine a place, if Lady Russell and Nyssa's calculations are to be accurate.'

Elisabeth looked as if she would love to comment on the accuracy of the calculations but, given the fondness that their father felt for Nyssa, she settled for scowling at her sister instead.

Nyssa would not be immediately following them all to Bath. Her younger step-sister Mary had requested, by letter to Elisabeth, a familial presence at her home a few miles away in Uppercross. Elisabeth had volunteered Nyssa for the role without consulting her. As a result, Nyssa would be sorting through the trunks in the manor's stores before leaving the estate in the hands of Admiral Croft and his wife.

Soon enough, Nyssa found herself stood just outside the front door, a shawl wrapped around her as she bade goodbye to her father and step-sister. Or, rather, her father and the daughter of Mr Shepherd, who would be accompanying Elisabeth to Bath. Elisabeth herself had simply handed an itinerary of plants for Lady Russell, before climbing into the coach without a word of goodbye.

Miss Penelope Shepherd, a rather sweet young woman, curtsied to Nyssa, and smiled, before following Elisabeth into the waiting coach.

At that point, Sir Tremas walked out of the front entrance, wearing a smart overcoat.

'Goodbye, father,' Nyssa said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 'I will see you in Bath.'

'Goodbye, child,' Sir Tremas replied, smiling. 'I feel safer knowing that the manor is being organised by your steady, capable hands.'

Nyssa gave a smile, watching her father climb into the coach. The door was closed, and the coach moved away down the long drive, beginning its journey to Bath.

The crowd of servants and local people from the parish watched it go, a strangely frustrated look on many of their faces. Nyssa knew that, despite her father's intentions, many saw the Traken family has something of a relic from an earlier age; from the previous century, the old world of parish politics and landed aristocracy. A new world based on merit and self-made-fortunes, as well as the expansion of the suffrage, was blossoming all around, as the nineteenth century unravelled at high speed. In decades past, only a small percentage of the population had controlled the nations affairs; soon, millions would. The tide of history could not be held back.

Nyssa wrapped her shawl around herself and walked back into the house.

Sheets had been placed over furniture, portraits had been taken out, and Nyssa's own belongings had been packed onto a simple cart that was currently waiting nearby the kitchens. Nyssa had gone to find Lady Russell to say her goodbyes, at least until when they would next meet in Bath. The older woman was sat on one of the only seats not covered in white sheets; cup of tea was placed on the table next to her.

'Lady Russell?'

'Oh, my dear,' she said, wearily. 'Even as I suggested such a state of events, I knew that it would pain me so.'

Nyssa sighed, and sat down beside Lady Russell. In her hand was clutched an old book she found in one of the trunks.

'You have spent too little away from home,' the older woman said. 'And your spirits have never been high since…'

She trailed off, and there was a short silence.

'Bath may be a better place for you,' Lady Russell continued, as if without pause. 'It is a larger society.'

'But I do so dislike the place,' Nyssa said. 'And, yes, I am aware that this is due to the passing of my mother. But I cannot feel any other way towards that city.'

Lady Russell took a sip from her cup.

'Will you travel directly to Uppercross?'

'No,' Nyssa said. 'I would prefer to be gone before her sister-'

She broke off, wiping her face with her hand.

'Before Mrs Croft and the Admiral arrive.'

Lady Russell stared at her, a sad look in her eyes.

'Nyssa, I…' Lady Russell said, hesitantly. '…I know that at the time, I was of the opinion that such a marriage would be… unbefitting for a woman of your rank and title-'

'Lady Russell, please,' Nyssa said, placing a kind hand on the older woman's arm. 'You have been a dear friend to me, and a source of great advice throughout my life. You need not apologise for that. I do not blame you.'

'I thank you, dear, but… oh, would you not have been happy?'

Nyssa sighed, looking down at the book in her lap. She opened it and, pressed inbetween two pages, was a small paper boat.

'I imagine I would have been, yes,' Nyssa said, quietly, as she delicately picked up the boat. 'But it does no good to look with misery at how ones life could have taken if such a decision had been made. One cannot change the past; we all can only make our decisions in the present, and make the best of it as we can.'

Lady Russell smiled sadly.

The journey from Traken Manor was quiet and uneventful. The rain had held off, but a grave mood had descended upon Nyssa as the cart slowly left the home where she had spent much of the past eight years. She supposed it was to be expected. Nonetheless, she made sure to remember that Uppercross was, on the whole, a somewhat more cheerful place than the Traken Estate. Nyssa was looking forward to seeing Mr and Mrs Musgrove, whose family Nyssa's step-sister Mary had married into.

Immediately after getting out of the cart, Nyssa could see her younger step-sister peeking out through a ground-floor window before disappearing. Smiling softly to herself, Nyssa entered the cosy house in which she was to live during her stay in Uppercross. She had always remembered it as a warm, relaxed place, lacking much of the pomp and ostentatious manners of Traken Manor. She could hear hens clucking from the yard nearby, and the occasional happy bark of a dog.

Mary was lying under a blanket on the window seat in the drawing room. She had arranged her face to a pitiable one of exhaustion. Nyssa tried not to think too much on it; Mary had always been this way. At the very least, she lacked the biting words and haughty looks of Elisabeth, with whom Nyssa had never really gotten along, despite their childhood together.

'How are you, Mary?'

'I have seen nobody all day, and I feel quite neglected,' Mary replied, glumly, from her window seat. 'The boys are such a handful and it isn't helped by their grandmother feeding them too much at every opportunity. You really ought to speak to her about it.'

Nyssa perched on the edge of the window seat, smiling in a kindly way which she knew Mary would appreciate.

'Have you not seen them today?'

'They do not care to visit the sick,' Mary said. 'But, as I often feel somewhat better after luncheon, perhaps we may walk to the great house this afternoon?'

'I'd like that.'

After luncheon, it so happened that Mary was indeed feeling better, and the two of them headed towards the great house which was the seat of Mr and Mrs Musgrove. Mr Musgrove was the local squire, and was a jolly, kind-hearted man. Mrs Musgrove was much the same.

'It is good to see you, Nyssa,' Mrs Musgrove said, warmly, after Nyssa and Mary had entered their drawing room. 'It is always to pleasure to have you here at Uppercross.'

Nyssa smiled. She had not felt such kindness in a very long time. The Musgroves had always been earnest and straightforward people, and she always felt better when in their company.

'Thank you, Mrs Musgrove; I find myself most happy when in your home,' she replied. 'And Charles, how are you?'

'Very well,' replied Charles, grinning. Mary's husbands cheeks were flushed from exercise outdoors. 'Father hit a pheasant but the dogs couldn't find it.'

Mary, at that moment, turned her back on her husband and walked away.

'You were… missed at luncheon, Charles,' Nyssa said, feeling her smile drop slightly.

Charles let out a sigh of understanding, and nodded.

After conversing with the Musgroves for a few hours, Nyssa followed Mary back to the house. Mary was not in the best of moods with her mother-in-law, owing to the cake that Mrs Musgrove often gave the two young boys. However, Mrs Musgrove had confided to Nyssa that the other way to keep Mary's two songs under control was to give them too much cake. Once again, Nyssa found herself as the person who everyone aired their complaints to; it had been the case back at Traken Manor as well.

However, this was broken up when the Admiral and Lady Croft arrived. Nyssa had been expecting them to be serious but dull people, but nothing could have been further from the truth. The Admiral was a cheerful, plainspoken man with a kind heart, and Lady Croft was much the same. They were the sort of people that you could imagine feeling at home almost anywhere, with an affable charm that made them incredibly likeable.

Mary's sons then burst through the door, exclaiming that they wished to see the Admiral. Although Mary initially tried to pull them away, the Admiral simply chuckled, clapping the two young boys on the shoulders in a paternal way.

'Have you chaps ever seen a boat made out of paper?'

The two young boys shook their heads.

'Come on; I'll show you by the desk.'

The Admiral, with energy that Nyssa would not have expected from a man his age, sprung out of the chair and hurried across the room, sitting down into the desk chair and beginning to fold a sheet of paper. The two boys grinned, running to stand beside him.

'Speaking of the sea,' said the Admiral, looking over his shoulder at Nyssa, Mary and Lady Croft. 'we are expecting my wife's sisters. A seafarer, whom you won't have met.'

'Oh, but we have,' Mary said. 'She came to Traken Manor a fair few times.'

Nyssa's eyes darted to her step-sister.

'My sister Tegan, you mean?' Mrs Croft asked. 'Were you an… acquaintance of hers?'

Nyssa's mind scrambled. Her throat suddenly felt very dry. Wait… did that mean… no, surely that could not be the case? The world was not that unkind, especially given the length of time that had passed.

'Y-yes,' Nyssa stammered. 'I… I believe you were in the West Indies at the time.'

'Oh, yes,' Mrs Croft said. 'Now that you come to mention it, I do believe that Tegan mentioned your name a few times; I believe she found you a most charming individual.'

Nyssa nodded, swallowing. Yes, she thought, she had found me that way, indeed. But I doubt that she does anymore… and who am I to blame her for doing so?

'Well, I'm sure she will be very pleased to see you again,' Lady Croft continued, not seeming to notice Nyssa's expression. 'She is due to arrive soon-'

'Aunt Nyssa!' cried the boys, hurrying over and pulling her to her feet. 'Launch the boat with us!'

Mercifully glad for the excuse to leave, Nyssa smiled at Lady Croft before following her nephews out of the house and across to the stream. The younger of the two boys placed the paper boat onto the water, and it was carried gently along by the water.

Grinning, Nyssa clambered down on her knees and put her hand up to her head in a salute. The two boys did the same, laughing as they repeatedly joined her to exclaim "hip hip hooray!".

'Nyssa!'

Looking around, Nyssa could see Henrietta Musgrove hurrying across the lawn from the great house.

'Hello!' Nyssa exclaimed, smiling. 'Would you like to join us for cake? The Admiral and Lady Croft are with us in the drawing room.'

'Oh, I would love to but I told mother that I would be back soon,' exclaimed the girl, slightly out of breath. 'I have simply come to invite you to the great house this evening…'

'Oh, we would be delighted!' Nyssa said.

'To meet Captain Tegan Jovanka.'

The church bells rang out around them, and Nyssa felt her legs sway slightly beneath her. Her heart seemed to have stopped beating again.

'By all accounts,' continued Henrietta, smiling broadly. 'a charming and most agreeable lady. And she is to call on us tonight!'

Grinning, she hurried away, seemingly unaware of the shocked look on Nyssa's face.

The next few hours seemed to flash by, as if the concept of time itself was taunting Nyssa. While Mary and Charles were clearly looking forward to the occasion, Nyssa found herself unable to feel anything but apprehension. For reasons that Mary and Charles could not understand and did not seem to notice, Nyssa's mood continued to drop lower with the dwindling daylight. As the shadows grew longer and longer, so did Nyssa's face. At the very least, that was the impression that she herself got from looking at her reflection. It was only Nyssa's nephews that seemed to notice her mood, and they had insisted on pulling her outside to watch them play in the field nearby. Nyssa did admittedly smile as she watched the two young boys frolic, as she appreciated their attempts to lighten her heart. They were sweet children, if a little rambunctious, even for their age. But she hardly cared. However, Charles had appeared a short time later, and Nyssa had quietly slipped away while her nephews were distracted by their father pretending to be a horse for their amusement.

She headed back to the house, and quietly let herself in, careful not to get drawn into a conversation with Mary or to upset the servants by interrupting their chores. At the loss of anything else to do, Nyssa sat down and tried to read some poetry from one of the books she had brought from Traken Manor.

The sun finally set, and Nyssa resigned herself to the events activities. It was with a heavy heart that she headed upstairs to prepare for dinner at the great house.

However, Nyssa was beginning to brush her hair when she could begin to hear yelling from the road outside. She initially thought it to be her two nephews laughing as they ran along but, as the voices grew louder, Nyssa could hear cries of alarm and fear. She crossed the room and peeked out of the window onto the yard below.

Her heart plummeted.

Charles was carrying the younger of his sons in his arms, and was yelling for the staff to prepare a bed and call for the doctor. The older son was crying and yelling. Apparently, young Charles had fallen out of a tree while the two boys had been playing with their father.

Nyssa grabbed her shawl and hurried across to the great house.

The boy, who was named for his father, had been laid out on a coach. He had a gash on his forehead and seemed to have passed out from the shock. One of the maids hurried past Nyssa and out of the door, running at full speed down the road, towards the home of the local doctor, who lived half a mile away.

Time seemed to drip by slowly. Mary was sobbing in the corner, while the older son was hugging his father. After the doctor arrived, Nyssa went to the servants and had them prepare warm water, on the off-chance that the doctor would request it.

A few hours later, the doctor stood up from where he had been examining young Charles, and spoke to the boy's parents. Nyssa let out a soft sigh of relief; Young Charles, while not healthy, would recover in due course. He would need to be looked after closely for the foreseeable future.

'I will do so,' Nyssa said, placing a supportive hand on her step-sisters arm.

'You are such a dear,' Mary said, wiping her eyes. 'I cannot do so; I am far too ill and need to relax. Myself and Charles will go to dine with Captain Jovanka this evening in the great house, so that it will be quiet here for you to tend to young Charles. Thank goodness you have no children of your own.'

Nyssa nodded, as Mary left the room. Nyssa was left with young Charles, who was still dozing on the coach. She crossed over to the fire, which the servants had kindly kept burning softly, so as to not overheat the young boy while he was recovering.

Nyssa could hear the sounds of Mary and her husband readying themselves for dinner with Captain Jovanka. Nyssa stood beside the fire, feeling the heat wash over her gently.

I'm such a coward, she thought.

It was the next day. The sun had risen on a bright and cheerful day, and the windows were full of spring sunshine, despite the air still having something of a chill. Nyssa had risen early and was sat eating breakfast with Mary. Although Nyssa found that her appetite was not very present at the moment.

'Captain Jovanka is a most charming woman,' Mary said, her mouth half-full with cold beef. 'Herself and Charles have become fast friends, and I believe that they are going hunting today.'

Nyssa started.

'They… they are starting from here?'

'Oh, no,' Mary said, not noticing Nyssa's shock. 'The noise would be too much for the boy. I believe Charles is going to meet the Captain over at the great house-'

It was at that moment that a knocking came from the window behind them. Nyssa and Mary turned.

'I've come for the dogs!' Charles Musgrove exclaimed, his face pressed up against the window and grinning. 'We're all going hunting; Captain Jovanka is just coming around!'

Mary climbed to her feet in excitement. Nyssa followed, her hand clutching the back of the chair she had just vacated. Her pulse seemed to quicken.

The door opened and Henrietta and Louise Musgrove walked in, chattering happily between themselves and-

Captain Jovanka stepped into the room. Taking a large hat off her head, the Captain revealed a crop of closely clipped dark-brown hair, of the sort that was becoming fashionable in the booming cities of southern England. A lopsided grin was present on her lips, with a sort of carefree cheer that, combined with the sharpness of her teeth, was something to behold. She was wearing a Navy tunic with epaulettes, as befitted her rank, and a pair of dark trousers with tall leather boots. A long overcoat was hanging over her arm. The tunic seemed to strain against her muscles, and her face was lightly tanned. Her eyes, the same shade of deep brown, were calm and steady as they swept across the room and landed, briefly, on Nyssa herself.

Oh.

Nyssa's grip tightened on the chair.

'Ah… Mrs Musgrove,' Captain Jovanka said, a small smile on her face. The accent, all too familiar to Nyssa's ears, was polite yet cheerful and relaxed. 'And Miss Traken. How do you do?'

'Splendid!' Mary exclaimed. 'I see my husband has tempted you all out for hunting!'

'Oh, yes,' the Captain replied. 'Just a bit of fun, of course. Nothing intense. Would you care to join us?'

'I would love to!'

Mary smiled, pulling her shawl around her.

Nyssa bent down to pick up her book from the table.

'I shall stay here and care for the boy,' she said, quietly.

'Oh, you are such a dear,' Mary said, quickly. 'Always so selfless; have you been introduced by my sister, Captain?'

Nyssa froze where she stood, seemingly unable to look up.

'We've… been acquainted,' Captain Jovanka said, her voice steady. 'I wish the young boy the quickest of recoveries, of course. Henrietta and Louisa swear that he is… quite a character indeed.'

'Well, that's one way of putting it,' Mary said, bustling over to follow them all out of the door. 'My husband tells me that you are an excellent shot, Captain-'

The door closed behind Mary.

The floor of the house was now very quiet indeed.

Nyssa crossed the room to be beside young Charles. He smiled faintly at her, and she smiled, gently stroking his cheek as he dozed off again.

Outside, she could hear the sounds of the hunting party moving away from the house. They would indeed have a great deal of fun, by the sounds of excited chatter, of which Captain Jovanka's voice was the most pronounced.

Nyssa sat down in the window seat and let out a deep breath, feeling her hands shake as she placed them in her lap.

Nyssa was so caught up in her thoughts as she minded young Charles that she only noticed the noise outside when Mary walked through the door. Several hours had gone by in the time she had been alone with only the contents of her own mind to occupy herself.

'Oh, what a lovely time!' she exclaimed, sitting down next to Nyssa. 'The Captain is a terrific shot, and such a witty woman as well!'

'I take it that you have had fun?' Nyssa said, quietly.

'Very much; I feel quite carefree,' Mary replied, pulling off her shawl. 'What fun it is to see the shooting in action!'

Nyssa nodded, absently.

'I must say, though; Captain Jovanka is not very gallant towards you, Nyssa,' Mary said, now eating a slice of apple. 'When Henrietta asked her, the Captain said that you were so altered that she should not have known you again. But I suppose eight years can change one, after all…'

Nyssa nodded, blinking quickly. She could not help but dwell on the words. While she had been expecting the change to have been apparent, her heart still ached so.

The eight years that had passed had certainly caused many a change. She stared at herself, reflected in the glass of the window nearby. Her brown hair was already starting to lose its shine, and surely her eyes had sunken over the majority of the last decade. She was no longer a young girl of prospects.

Twenty-seven.

By all accounts, she was considered past marrying age. For her class, she was a spinster. Whereas Captain Jovanka… Nyssa sighed, placing her hands on top of each other. Eight years could certainly do a lot-

'Oh, we'll be joining them all for dinner up in the great house, of course. Young Charles seems to be recovering nicely, so I did insist on you being invited as well.'

Nyssa started, and turned to stare at Mary, who didn't seem to have noticed her shock.

'Hopefully, Captain Jovanka will be more civil to you in person,' Mary continued. 'As befits my sister, after all.'

'I… I see.'

As much as Nyssa willed the day to last longer, before long, the sun had set. Her heart heavy, Nyssa followed Mary and her family up to the great house. At the very least, she was not known for being talkative and could quietly sit in the background without issue.

Or so she thought. For, as soon as she entered the drawing room of the great house, she discovered Captain Jovanka sat at the pianoforte, with Louisa and Henrietta stood nearby.

'Miss Traken, I do apologise,' the Captain said, standing up and climbing off the stool. She was wearing another navy uniform; this one was darker, clearly for formal dress. It suited her very much and Nyssa felt her heart speed up. 'I have taken your place.'

'T-there is no need,' Nyssa said, quietly. 'I assure you.'

'Oh, but your pianoforte is wonderful,' Mrs Musgrove said, from her seat nearby. 'Nyssa, you must play for us after dinner.'

'Do you not wish to dance, Miss Traken?'

Nyssa's mouth flapped open and closed. Captain Jovanka was staring at her, those deep brown eyes focusing on Nyssa, who felt her stomach drop as if she had missed a step going down a staircase.

'I… I prefer to play,' she said, dropping her eyes.

'Well, dinner will be served soon,' Mrs Musgrove said, cheerfully. 'Shall we all head into the dining room? Captain Jovanka, how have you found your time spent here so far?'

It was all Nyssa could do to move quickly and quietly into the dining room. Was it just her imagination, or could she feel the gaze of Captain Jovanka on the back of her head? She wished it was not so.

After the dinner itself had finished, everyone remained at the table, chatting. The conversation moved to Captain Jovanka's navy career.

'Have you been in the navy a long time?'

'I have indeed, Louisa,' said the Captain, smiling at the younger of the Musgrove sisters. 'A good eight years now.'

'The pride of her ship, I'm given to understand,' said the Admiral. 'Which is a high compliment indeed, given that the wars with Napoleon have increased the amount of men and women in the navy tenfold.'

'You flatter me, sir,' Captain Jovanka said, taking a sip of her drink. 'But I'd like to think that I have performed well in my duty. It gives me a great sense of privilege to know that my success is due to my own intelligence and skill, as opposed to happenstance and genetic lottery. I believe that the reduction in commissioned officers in favour of promotions has enabled many women to climb the ranks of the navy, even beyond what Queen Elisabeth the First envisioned when she introduced the laws to enable women to serve in the armed forces some… what, two centuries ago? The rank of Navy office is no longer a club for wealthy aristocratic men, and I'm most glad of it, I can tell you.'

'The Captain is of the sapphic persuasion, I believe,' the Admiral said, smiling over at Louisa Musgrove. 'I have been reliably informed that is the terminology used by the youth of today.'

'You would be correct, Admiral!' Captain Jovanka replied, with a bark of laughter. 'And, yes, I have never found myself enamoured with men. At least, not in the matters of the heart!'

As the rest of the table joined Captain Jovanka in laughter, Nyssa took a large mouthful from her drink and kept her eyes to her empty plate. She did not trust herself to look at the Captain during this particular topic. Not while her heart pained her so. She did not have the right to look at Captain Jovanka after what she had done. After how Nyssa had hurt her. For, surely, the Captain must have hated her, and continued to hate her, for such behaviour.

'And yet you went away to sea, to be on ships with fewer women than at home,' giggled Louisa, her eyes sparkling. 'Is that not counterintuitive?'

There was amiable laughter, of which Captain Jovanka was the loudest. Nyssa smiled, but did not say anything.

'Indeed, it used to be considered bad luck for a woman to be onboard!' Captain Jovanka continued. 'Although that has largely been forgotten nowadays, given how many women now serve.'

'Agreed,' said Lady Croft. 'When I was onboard for the Admirals voyages, I was shocked at just how many women were serving, even back then.'

'And… you never felt ill or worried?' said Nyssa.

She wasn't entirely sure why she spoke thus. The words seemed to have slipped out before she had consciously thought of them.

'I only ever felt like that when the Admiral was away and I was left at home,' replied Lady Croft, smiling at her husband. 'Whenever we were together, I always felt… right.'

The Admiral smiled fondly at his wife, his skin crinkling around his eyes as he did so. The two of them were clearly very dear to each other, and Nyssa felt somewhat in awe of them. As well as, her heart insisted on it, sadness.

Louisa turned back to Captain Jovanka.

'Was that not lonely then for you, Captain?'

'To be away from home? Of course not. I initially went to sea, as I felt at a loss of something to do,' the Captain said, her voice dropping somewhat in volume. Nyssa felt her eyes irresistibly drawn to the Captain. 'Something to… focus my mind and my talents on.'

Her eyes met Nyssa's.

'You see, I… had no wife in that year.'

Nyssa felt as if her heart had turned to lead. She did not speak, for fear that her voice would betray her. Captain Jovanka's eyes moved away a few moments later, but Nyssa continued to stare at the Captain long after the conversation had moved on. As if to look at a life she knew that she could no longer have. A life she had given up all rights to thinking about when she had rescinded her acceptance of the Captain's marriage proposal. Eight years ago; on the day she had broken Captain Jovanka's heart.