"Wonderful! Then, please, come with me. We should get seated before the mob comes in." Morgan led Allison in Anne’s wake as she wove through the groups waiting for permission to seat themselves, catching a brief glimpse of Carolyn’s flashing eyes as they left the room.

Dinner passed quickly and peacefully, Morgan relaxing and watching quietly as Allison enchanted the whole table. They received quite a few glares from Carolyn who was seated as far from the main table as possible thanks to some manipulation of seating cards by Isabelle. The Stromwells were quickly entranced by Allison’s warm southern charm as the young woman regaled them with tales from her childhood. The room thrummed with the murmur of voices, every so often broken by the ringing of silver on crystal as George’s guests toasted him and his family.

As the last of the courses was cleared away from the table Morgan sat back and swirled the wine in her glass, watching Allison as she told Anne about the fashions that had been all the rage in Charleston when she left. Between the dinner, the wine, and the company of her friends she had relaxed considerably, and a small smile played on her lips as she listened to her young friend. Isabelle sat across from her and was sharing some of the news she’d had from abroad when she noticed the woman’s voice had stopped. Morgan swung her eyes across the table as she realized that Isabelle had said her name and found the older woman watching her with a smile. Her eyes slid to Isabelle’s left where George sat and found he was looking at her sadly. Morgan cocked an eyebrow and smiled at him, causing him to shake his head.

Guests started drifting away from the tables and out into the gardens and courtyard where a small group of musicians were warming up as the servants started to clear the last dishes, and Morgan shied away from George’s meaningful look and offered her arm to Allison.

They slowly walked along the veranda, watching as couples took advantage of the music and swirled together to a waltz. Lit by large torches, the gardens and courtyard below glowed, and the night took on a bit of intimacy in the flickering light. Allison smiled up at her as they walked along, her eyes sparkling in the torchlight, and Morgan found herself blocking out the rest of the guests. They stopped at the railing next to the steps that led down to the rest of the guests and Morgan leaned against it and made her self look down at the dancers and away from Allison. Half a dozen couples twirled around the fountain in the middle of the courtyard, more joining them as the music filled the air.

Morgan frowned down at the couples as they moved past her vantage point, trying to figure out who was dancing with Anne. Allison glanced up at her and cocked her head in question.

"What’s wrong, Morgan?" she said softly, resting her hand on her sleeve. Morgan nodded down at the couple.

"I’m trying to figure out who’s dancing with Anne," she answered. "He looks familiar and I can’t figure out why." Allison looked down at him briefly, then squeezed her arm.

"If I remember the portrait that Anne pointed out to me at dinner correctly, I believe that is her husband, Henry. She was married last year. You didn’t hear that part?" Morgan shook her head absently, still frowning. A movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention to the edge of the courtyard, and she saw Carolyn with her head bent towards a rather nervous looking man, making soothing motions with her hands. Carolyn whispered in his ear and nodded towards Anne and her husband and Morgan felt the pieces fall together. She looked down at the man again, then let out a low whistle. Allison’s eyes swung up to hers, and Morgan grinned mischievously down into her inquisitive eyes.

"Allison, my dear, do you know who that young man is?" Allison’s eyebrows drew together in confusion and she nodded.

"He’s Anne’s husband, Morgan," she answered, a question in her voice. Morgan chuckled.

"Mmm…yes…Anne’s husband. Well, he’s also Carolyn’s lover." Allison’s eyes widened and she gasped.

"That witch!" she exclaimed, and Morgan nodded. "But that will devastate Anne! She adores him!" Morgan looked thoughtfully down at Henry.

"Allison, I think I need to find out what’s going on here. Would you do me a favor and go see Isabelle? She’s down there instructing the musicians. Tell her that I need to see her and George in his study." Allison nodded slowly.

"Where are you going?"

"I’m going to check something, then I’ll meet you there." Morgan turned and moved briskly back down the veranda, leaving Allison to gather the Stromwells for her.

Allison frowned at Morgan's retreating back, watching her disappear into the shifting crowd. She shook her head and spotted George moving towards Isabelle and headed towards her as well. George was whispering in his wife's ear as she reached them, both of them wearing very concerned looks. Allison cleared her throat, drawing their attention.

"Morgan asked me to tell both of you that she needs to see you in Mr. Stromwell's study," she said, pitching her voice low so that no one would be able to eavesdrop. George frowned thoughtfully, then nodded.

"I'm not sure what she needs to see us about, but I have something important to tell her." Isabelle nodded and George offered her his arm. Offering Allison the other, George led them off, lifting his voice as they went, exclaiming, "Why, young lady, you should see my library if you're fond of books!" Allison watched the curious onlookers shift their attentions elsewhere as they heard his words, and the three of them slipped into the house relatively unnoticed.

Allison followed along as George walked briskly through the house, finally slowing to shove open a heavy door. He motioned her and Isabelle inside, then he shut the door, the lock turning with a loud snap. Allison moved deeper into the room, briefly noticing the shelves of books lining the walls, but her attention was fixed in the figure waiting at the end of the room.

Morgan was sitting on the edge of the large walnut desk that dominated the study, one leg swinging idly. She had tossed her waistcoat over the back of one of the chairs in front of the desk and her hair was in disarray as if she had been shoving her fingers through it. Allison felt her stomach clench as Morgan met her eyes and winked at her, a lazy grin curving her lips. As George moved past her to approach Morgan Allison saw the captain's face grow quite serious.

"Sorry to do that to you, George," Morgan began, stopping as he waved his hand.

"No, no, Morgan, I needed to speak with you anyways." Morgan cocked an eyebrow and he went on. "Jack just came up from the docks with some very disturbing news that I think you should hear," George said, and Allison frowned, wondering who Jack was. Isabelle moved closer to Allison.

"That's our eldest," she said in a low voice, "he's the dockmaster." Allison nodded as George went on.

"Morgan, child, someone has ordered you ship to be sunk," George's voice hardened, "and that witch is the one who issued the order!" Morgan nodded, answering George's surprised look with a wry chuckle.

"I know, George, that's why I didn't show up with her this evening. I found out this morning. They tried to set her on fire before dawn, but luckily some of the crew have been staying on deck until she can get into dry dock and they caught them before any damage could be done." George sighed in relief.

"I'm glad that they did catch them, my friend. Jack felt terrible that he didn't catch wind of the order earlier, though it sounds like they rushed it. What he told me was that it was planned to be sometime after this evening." Morgan clenched her jaw and a spark of anger lit her eyes.

"Tell Jack to keep his ear to the ground for me then. I don't know what her game is, but I'm not going to underestimate her and think that she's going to give up. I wouldn't be surprised if the job was hurried after she found out that I left her room early last night." Allison caught the meaningful glance that Morgan shot her way and swallowed a gasp.

"Why has she turned against you, Morgan?" Isabelle asked, tucking herself against her husband's side. Morgan shrugged one shoulder.