25th May - Lieutenants in the tavern

"I beg your pardon," Cartwright burst out in surprise, sliding instinctively back in his chair when the woman upended Mister Leat's glass over the floor. The sheer bloody nerve... he reached for the bottle that he'd purchased, half-expecting it to be the next one emptied. He hadn't spent his money on this for it to be so summarily wasted, after all.

She simply clucked her tongue at him as she would have done to a misbehaving infant and poured some of the new wine into his glass. "Best. More good," she explained.

"No," Cartwright said firmly, aghast at her boldness. He pushed his glass away. "Have you no manners?"

She squinted thoughtfully, trying to figure out what manners were and whether or not she had any.

Oh dear Lord, not again. Bush grumbled something incoherent into his glass, finishing off the wine much quicker than he had before.

"Leave Mr. Leat alone, ma'am. He is not interested in buying any of your wine, nor is Mr. Cartwright, nor am I. Mr. Deverel might have been interested in your...wares...but as you can see he is rather incapacitated right now."

Leat stared agog at the woman who had snatched his glass and emptied its contents on the floor. Not knowing quite how to react (the experience of having strange women rob him of his drink being an entirely new one), he transferred his stunned gaze to Bush.

"Is this woman an acquaintance of yours, Mr. Bush?"

Cartwright seemed to know her as well, or at least have more sense as to the preservation of his wine, as the bottle was currently hugged tight to his chest.

"She is no acquaintance of mine, Mr. Leat. However, for reasons unknown, she has been paying us rather undue attention this evening." Bush replied, giving the woman a glare. "She seems very intent on getting us to purchase her wine, but I have told her that the Captain already has plenty of hish own shtores." He blinked a few times, then cleared his throat and corrected himself. "His own stores."

It seemed he had been imbibing more than he had realised. However, at the moment he was too irritated by the woman to really give it much thought.

Leat pulled a face.

"Madam," he said to the woman. "As we have not bought any of your wine we would appreciate it if you did not dispose of any of ours. And may I have my glass back please?"

He held his hand out for it, glowering at her from under his brows.

This elegant speech was lost on her Portuguese ears, but she recognized the waiting hand. The red-coated officer's outburst had distracted her, and she now noticed that she was still holding the lieutenant's glass after having filled it. She put it into his hand with a smile and then refilled Bush's glass, setting her superior wine bottle in the middle of the table with a final "Best!" before leaving them in peace, or something like it.

"Madness," Cartwright muttered, setting his own bottle carefully back onto the table. At least she seemed to be gone for the moment.

"Ordinarily, I would be unwilling to shun the offering of free wine, but in this instance..." he glanced at the other two officers with a lifted eyebrow. Fresh glasses would probably be in order at this point.

"Lord knows what she's at," Leat mumbled. The woman had refilled all three glasses, which made all suspect. It could be that she was trying to drug and so rob them - a wild story, but he had known it to happen on occassion to friends. In brothels mostly. However, free wine was free wine, and if it was untainted it would certainly be a shame to waste it.

"I suppose we could test it on Deverel?"

"Not a bad suggestion, though his reactions might make it difficult to tell whether or not the wine is tainted. But feel free to try."

Bush eyed his own glass, wondering if it truly was safe to drink. Though in truth the woman had already brought them wine--which they had drank--and nothing had happened yet...

Deverel mumbled.

Leat poked Deverel experimentally.

"Deverel? Wake up, man, we've got another glass for you."

"Hm?" Deverel showed no signs of moving from his position.

Leat poked him again.

"No such luck."

He looked around at the other tables. Maybe there was a army officer, or an officer from another ship they could try it on?

A very light smirk made the corner of Cartwright's mouth twitch. Words themselves were obviously not enough to get Deverel's attention, drunk as the fool was.

"Wake up, man," the Marine said, half a second before he unceremoniously poured the contents of his glass over Deverel's head.

"Aaahh!" Deverel jerked awake as the glass of wine was poured on his head, and he sat up with a start, wiping at his face. "What happened?"

Cartwright pushed Mister Leat's glass toward the newly-roused lieutenant and smiled disarmingly. "We were given a fresh bottle of wine," the Marine answered smoothly. "It was a particular gift to you, sir, I believe. Stands to reason you should enjoy the first glass poured from it, does it not?"

Deverel laughed, seemed to have a fit of giggling, before he at last reached for the nearest glass of wine and downed it.

"Hm!" he exclaimed, though it was not clear whether he was expressing approval, thoughtfulness, or something else entirely. And then he leaned his head on his arm and fell asleep once again.

"Well," Cartwright said, shaking his head slowly. "That may be the most useful thing Mister Deverel has either said or done all evening."


OOC - I finally found Cartwright's post-av again. It was right where I'd moved it to.

"It seemed controlled, though," Leat mused. "Compared against a collapse it was quite deliberate."

And Deverel was only sleeping, not poisoned. He looked at Bush's glass - now the only full one - speculatively, and then sighed.

"Oh well, I'm sure you gentlemen will find a wheelbarrow for me."

And then before the others could protest he downed the drink in one.

"Indeed. And I had thought it would be difficult to gague if--" Bush began, but broke off as Leat abruptly picked up his glass and drank the wine in one go. Blinking in surprise, he remarked, "Well, I suppose that's that, then."

Leat coughed slightly, merely a reaction to downing the glass in one, then sat back thoughtfully, considering. It tasted alright, and he didn't feel in the least bit drowsy...

"Seems alright to me."

That settled it, didn't it? Cartwright reached for the bottle given them by that damnable woman. "Indeed," he said. "Sirs?" He held the bottle up slightly, offering to refill their glasses.