Preparing to Leave Lisbon

"I'm ever so sorry, sir," she repeated for want of anything better to say. After giving him one or searching glance to make certain he hadn't been injured, she began to look around for something to dry herself with, for the gentleman's outflung arms had knocked the drink out of her hand.

Cotton untied his necker and gave to her. "You alright there, lass?" he asked, concerned.

"Me? Of course I'm all right. It was the gentleman I was afraid for. Oh no no, I can't use that! Thank you, Gabe, but it's all right, never mind."

Stephen looked at the couple in interest, his earlier observations confirmed. "Did I spill something? I am terribly sorry."

"I don't see anythin' else you can use, and it won't hurt it."

But was the gentleman alright? Cotton couldn't tell. "Is there anythin' I can do for you, sir?" he asked.

"Don't you worry, sir," Maggie replied, turning her shoulder away so as to hide the stain from his view.

"No, nothing, thank you. Just a moment to sit down." Why did everyone make such a fuss? Stephen hoped he did not look as bad as everyone else seemed to think he did.

He was not too worried by the brief glimpse of a stain - of the very few items of clothing he owned, it was only the unworn coat that was at all unstained - and he had no patience for the Judaic cleanliness other people put so much effort into, not if they expected the same of him, but civility demanded an acknowledgment. "Oh, I am sorry, miss."

She shook her head, taking Cotton's arm to further hide the evidence. "Not to worry, sir. It was my fault. And the place is so crowded! It's near impossible for anyone to walk through."

Cotton looked at her. "I don't mean to fuss, Maggie, but are you sure you're alright?" He spoke quietly, the words only meant for her ears.

She stared back at him, frowning in surprise. "What?"

"Nothin', don't mind me," Cotton said, unwilling to make her self-conscious of the fact she had taken his arm. He liked it too much to say anything and have her let go.

The man with the crutch looked all right - or rather, with his haggard appearance and existing injuries, he looked no worse than before she had upset his crutch. She looked at his friend for any signs of worry, but the lieutenant didn't seem overly upset. She gave Cotton's arm a light tug so they could leave the poor gentleman in peace.

Cotton glanced at the officer and his friend before allowing Maggie to pull him away.

"So what happened, then?"

Sharpe didn't know what to do. Although he didn't want to hover, he didn't know of anything else he could do. "Are you alright?" he asked, wondering if he should get some more brandy for the man.

"Fine, my dear - is is she" - he said, nodding towards the woman - "who appears to be more knocked about by it. Here, pray take back your brandy; a restorative mouthful more than enough, but I ought to be going."

"I don't reckon you ought to be rushin' straight out after that," Sharpe said doubtfully. "An' if you do, you ought to go straight home. No sense n wanderin' about Lisbon int dark."

"I ought to check Padstowe's lodgings first - it is not like him to-" Stephen snorted. "As if I know what it is like him to do. But I will check first, and then go."

"You be careful out there, right? 'Specially if you don't want me comin' with you to make sure you get there in one piece." He would do that, though, if need be, and he wasn't above threatening to, either.

"I certainly wouldn't want to see you emerging from the shadows behind me, Richard - you look a very dangerous man, you know. You should be out with your men, or having a drink on your last night before the march - I will do fine. Are there any particular streets I should avoid, do you know?"

"Alleyways. You stay on the main roads and you'll be all right. Be even better if I came with you. Don't think you could fight off a wasp, in your state." He grinned. "An' I don't need to start on the march with a hangover, neither."

"I was hoping the sword would be enough to deter any unwanted attention, but I will not say no to some company," he said with a smile. "If you are certain it is not at all out of your way."

"You think I'd tell you, if it was out of me way, the way you're feelin'?" Sharpe grinned. "'Sides, I reckon I'm fitter'n you are, an' it'd be easier for me to go trampin' half across the city if I didn't have to. I ain't the one with a crutch and a fractured skull."

"You will have if you go on like that."

"Like what?"

"If it is out of your way, just tell me. I will not be a further inconvenience."