'That is right, Monsieur Jax. You just keep on not keeping us here any longer... '
Though it took a Herculean effort of will to keep those grey eyes from rolling upward to the heavens in frustration, the gentlewoman Antoinette somehow managed to appear perfectly oblivious to the well-timed near-grope, her eyes wide instead with a perfect combination of concern and resignation as she watched him limp away - or a very poor facsimile thereof.
Poor, dear poppet! Well off with him then it seemed, if he was going to be so insistent...
Antoinette turned helplessly to Commander Murray, who just barely managed to hide his own eye roll and snort of contempt, hand quickly over his mouth, coughing to clear his throat.
"Ahem... Excuse me. Oh, please do not look so stricken, Miss Greene. I am sure he will be fine." The soldier offered the young woman his hand, to escort her back to her seat in the carriage. "Just fine, you will see."
Antoinette nodded reluctantly, grey eyes shimmering with unshed tears, as if the whole incident had turned her all out of sorts. "If you are sure, Ro - "
"Young man! You good sir, the one just toppled by our carriage!" Sir Greene's voice, losing none of the old Admiral's commanding edge, rang out over the street as he stood to his feet on the floor board, the palfrey's reins in one hand, his silver-headed cane in the other. He rapped swiftly on the wood with the tip of his cane, as if there were even the remotest chance his voice did not carry.
Which, of course, it did.
"We cannot have you walking about, now can we? You might hurt yourself worse still, and then what good would you be to your captain? Aye, I can hear it in your voice there - a sailor, I'd wager."
Thankfully for Antoinette, the difference between a look of wide-eyed wonder and incredulity was only a matter of degrees: while the elderly man was far too blind to notice, her escort was far too stunned to do likewise.
"Come now," Sir Greene called once more, that still brilliant smile wide and easy on his age-lined face as he waved in the general direction of the "injured" man's voice. "We can give you a ride, wherever you need to go."
The elderly man sat down once more, grandly patting the seat beside him up on the carriage. "Well, unless you are a man of such portly proportions, that you would crush my niece's skirts unduly. That simply would not do, I fear. But if I am right, and you are a sailor true? Well, surely you are not nearly so wide of bottom as all that."
Antoinette blinked, her mouth open for a moment in perfectly stunned silence.
The rogue dared not turn at this moment. She could not. Because she was certain beyond any least doubt that if she did, she would be 'treated' to a full, unfiltered view of Monsieur Jax's ridiculously wide grin - and she might not be able to stop herself from pulling a blade and ignoring all she ever promised her Silver Fish.
But no, no... No matter how satisfying it might be, it would probably be a little less than productive.
Sir Green grinned, patting the seat beside him once more in invitation as that smile turned impish, and suddenly, she realized.
The rogue was getting played. Yes, she was getting played by a blind old man, and a grinning fool. And she did not know whether to laugh until her sides ached, or just cut somebody.
Antoinette decided of course, that she would sedately turn toward that poor, hurt man, smiling oh-so-sweetly as she beckoned him toward the carriage. "You heard my dear Oncle Nathaniel, Monsieur," she said, the smile on her face threatening to crack at its painfully tight edges at any moment. "Where ever should you like to go?"
Poor Wordsmith, all colloquialized and such - but at the very least, it's not something you took to you grave? *bright side, silver lining, finding one!*
