"Oh yes, I know. Of [i]course[/i] it is unnecessary, [i]Mademoiselle[/i] Beauchamp," Antonia said easily as she slid into the offered seat, setting the bag before her on the table between them. "And of course Captain Lightfoot would have done the same... "A small, slightly wicked little smile tilted one corner of her lips upward.

"In truth, now that I think on it? You may have let Cooper off a touch lighter than he might. I imagine Thomas would have deemed a solid pistol-whipping in order before a musket ball to the brain pan, if anyone dared threaten his First Mate - but I shan't fault you for the lack." 

The rogue winked slyly up to Nicolette before her gaze returned to the velvet bag the First Mate had still not yet touched nor taken in her hand again. Antonia's fingertips danced over the smooth softness of the velvet for a moment before she spoke again. "Besides, there is no such thing as a [i]necessary[/i] gift. If a thing is necessary, it is no longer a gift, [i]non?[/i] Then it is a [i]need,[/i] and not near so fun." The rogue’s smiling grey eyes peered up to Nicolette, to try her very best to guess whether even the smallest gleam of a lighter heart might penetrate the First Mate’s solid, unbending veneer.

Nodding to herself with her answer, Antonia simply began to untie the fine, supple leather ties to the bag with nimble fingers. She could smell the vomit and see the empty liquor bottles - she had not grown blind and senseless in the seconds it took to walk into the cabin after all. The toe of one hob-nailed boot shot out like a serpent’s strike to stop the sea-rolling bottle, putting a swift end to that irritating noise, bending over to set it upright on the floor before returning to her own small task. Nicolette would be no more at ease here in her own quarters than she would be on the deck. Antonia did not doubt for a moment what the painfully self-conscious Nicolette would be thinking, wondering what the rogue would read into the juxtaposition of drunken excess the First Mate could have never managed on her own, and the tightly-controlled military precision with which she controlled most all her life.

It was a shame then, that Antonia could not reassure Nicolette she truly did not care. She would have loved the chance to tell the First Mate that whatever solace she found after she fled the ball - whether with the helmsman who chased after her or some other set of arms - was both a blessing, and absolutely [i]none[/i] of the rogue’s concern.

But the good discipline of even a pirate ship stayed her tongue and, though she would have listened gladly with neither judgment nor a loose tongue for gossip, Antonia did not ask for the First Mate’s confidence. Trust was, after all, not a commodity Nicolette held in abundance – and one that had yet to be earned at any rate.

And so Antonia simply smiled, gently, to Nicolette as she sat back up once more and removed the mahogany box from the velvet bag herself. “As I said on deck, ‘tis true, this is a pretty enough covering,” her fingers running lightly over the deep red wood, worked to a buttery-soft smoothness. She worked carefully at the small brass latch with a fingernail before opening it and turning it toward Nicolette.

[hider=The delicate glass bottle within][img= http://www.vanityfair.com/dam/online/style/32.gif][/hider] was nestled in a bed of ivory velvet, blanketed above and below in its cushioned confines, glimmering scarlet and alabaster in the limited light of the First Mate’s cabin. “And it does get lovelier the further one goes within.” The rogue’s careful fingers lifted the bottle from its velvet bed, smiling as the twinkling of the skillfully made glass droplets that encircled the bottle gleamed like morning dew. 

“The scent held within is grander still, unique and unexpected.” Antonia’s eyes lit with excitement, her smile widening as she recalled the thrill of the find, when she finally discovered a gift so justly perfect. “It is lilac!”

“Now of course [i]le parfumier[/i] cannot simply [i]harvest[/i] lilacs here – ‘tis too far south for such blooms! But he told me his secret – if not the proper alchemy of course. He can combine the scent of a rose, and then the lily of the valley, just a touch of almond essence and – believe it or not – just the sweetest hint of clove and [i]voila![/i] We have lilacs in the Caribbean!”

Antonia’s warm, Cajun-spiced and delighted laughter whirled through the First Mate’s cabin like a playful tropical breeze. She set the stoppered crimson bottle back into its velvet bed, her fingertips pushing the whole toward Nicolette by a mere few inches as she stood. Still smiling, the rogue stood to her feet and nodded respectfully to the golden woman. “I will let you return to your duties [i]Mademoiselle,[/i] as I must return to mine – [i]certainly[/i] before the First Mate catches me out and has my poor hide flayed from flesh.”

The rogue laughed softly, reassurance she was, of course, only teasing. “Thank you once more, [i]Mademoiselle[/i] Beauchamp. Truly,” she said softly as she turned to let herself out.