charitylovehopefaith | The Fourth

The Fourth - [ written/action ]

Written:

[David is of the opinion that she won't find a maid, not one as she knows it. Granted, Faith is steadily accepting this as a fact. Not that she has any proper understanding of why. Surely there is some sort of arrangement of compensation that could be worked out even in this strange place.

Besides, how else ought she to phrase her request? She hardly knows what he means by phrasing it in a more friendly fashion. What could be less friendly than asking someone to assist with cooking and cleaning without offering any compensation?

Still, for now, she refrains from her usual advertisment.]

May the eighth,

As some of you may have already learned, my brother is newly arrived in Luceti. [If she knew how to keep this private from David, she would make a sharp remark about treating him with the respect an officer in the King's Navy deserved. But he wouldn't approve, so, as he might see, she does not venture that far.

She might also, if she knew he couldn't see it, attempt to find him lodgings. The idea of David living alone isn't one she relishes. He's too much the sailor, too used to crowded ships and busy inns.]

His coming increases my need for fabric, particularly for wool. Especially worsted wool. I am afraid I do not know how to spin, though I should be happy to learn if the tools are available and the prepared wool is not. I believe, with a little work, I can learn, also, to dye, should only the raw wool be available. Which leads me to the question: I know there is farmland. I've heard it spoken of. Are there sheep? If there are, I should like to inquire after obtaining some wool when they are shaved.

I have had moderate success in finding what I need in the shops, but I am aware their stock may not always hold.

I shall be quite grateful to any assistance in answering my questions. Thank you kindly.

Faith Long.

[After a moment, a quick post-script appears:]

P.S.: Major Sharpe, [Best be formal when addressing him so publicly]
If you would be so kind as to call on me this afternoon, I have a parcel for you.

Action:

[For the most part, Faith keeps her routine. She goes to the Item Shop with her basket, looking for things that belong to her or might belong to her recently arrived brother.

She has tea in the late afternoon at Celsius Tear.

Her meals, she takes in her home (after preparing them in the Community House 4, first floor common kitchen).

During the middle of the afternoon, though, she can be found just outside Community House 4, sitting on a stool brought out, plain, thick cloth spread out around her to protect what she's working on. The light, after all, is better outside than in.

In her hands is fabric, needle, and thread, as she stitches the sleeve of a nearly finished dress, one that she feels will suit her quite nicely as the weather warms. Under her chair, as promised to the soldier earlier, is a package wrapped in brown paper.]

(Original image from here.)

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[Faith laughs warmly.] It certainly does. At least until Abigail arrives, if she ever does.

Has he found a place of his own? Or...

[ because sharpe's now trying to calculate whether he approves of david potentially living with his sister or not. on the one hand? it's bound to be safer.

but on the other...oh -- his spine practically stiffens at the thought. ]

At present, he has not. He's been residing with me.

[It was agreeable to her for the time being. After all, it provided a little security for a woman unused to living alone, even if nothing had happened in this place to warrant maintaining her concerns.]

We shared a drink, me and him...

Did you? [For one moment, something tinges her voice. Something... almost darker, bordering for half a second on bitter.] I imagine he quite enjoyed that. [She pauses briefly, then continues on in her usual, almost airy tone.] Another man of the military and such, I mean. I do hope he didn't give you any trouble, Richard.

Nah. He were decent, Miss Faith. A little startled by this place, of course. But who can blame him? And it only felt right to introduce myself to your brother, given...

[ a sharp exhale of breath. last i need is your brother thinking the wrong thing. ] Given our association.

I should be quite concerned about anyone who isn't startled by this place. [She smiles warmly.] I am glad you too got along. [Just not too well, I hope. But there's no way to say that. No way to even pick at the threads of asking it, hoping for the truth to unravel.

Faith is careful not to let her smile falter.]

Aye -- at least, as along as an infantryman and a sailor can get.

I'm very pleased to hear that. [Her lips quirk into just a hint of a smirk.] I would have had to have been very cross with him if he'd been rude to you, after all.

...I'd have endured it. No matter what the man is, I'd not care to upset someone so -- [ related to you. ] Someone so highly esteemed by yourself.

You are far too kind, Richard. [She smiles a little more.] Though, if he makes a nuisance out of himself? I will happily pardon all but physical violence against him. [Faith gives a soft laugh. It's... partially a joke. But she's still bitter enough about things in the past that she certainly doesn't feel as if she'd raise a fuss were he insulted.]

[ a rough laugh. ]

You've naught to worry yourself, Miss Faith. He were more decent than most -- [ for sharpe doubts that the commander could have missed some of the more telltale signs about his station. ]

I'm glad to hear it. David means well, but I fear sometimes he can be... rather indelicate. I should hate to think of him doing so to you.

[ more uneasy laughter: ] Miss, I once served in the ranks. Indelicacy ain't nothing I'm afraid of.

[ it's been painfully obvious before now, but this is perhaps the first time he'd as good as owned up to the fact in front of her. a slight tension sits on his shoulders as he says it. better to tell her himself than wait for david to point it out. ]

[To have the... open secret... verbally acknowledged caused Faith's head to bow politely. An acceptance of the fact but not one she wanted to linger long on. Whether for his sake or her pride... It was hard to say.

But it was something to be swept over, as far as she was concerned. Not discussed at length.]

An officer David has long served with and has... great esteem for [She could accuse David of indelicacy, certainly, but she would not stoop to it herself. Not in these circumstances, at least.] has a similar background, to my understanding.

If he is ever anything less than a gentleman about that fact, Richard, I do hope you'll tell me. If you don't require him to answer for it, I certainly will.

[ ...she was sweeping past it. bloody hell, but she found the topic distasteful. christ, sharpe! why did you have to speak so candidly? the major stands stiffly and inwardly kicks himself for his sudden flight of indulgence.

the lass was never likely to be okay with what you are. ]

M-many Naval officers do, ma'am. They have -- [ he clears his throat ] -- different regulations to us. It's...[ he can't finish his sentence. he's too twisted up in trying to figure out what the woman had meant by long being anything less than a gentleman. is it some slight against his own ungentle roots? he tries to imagine that it isn't. after all, she went so far as to say it with his simple and informal name. ]

You're a noble creature, Miss Faith. But I'm afraid it's my right and privilege to protect a lady's honour, and less so to have mine protected by her. Should it come to that, I will handle it.

[Faith seems genuinely surprised at the first remark.] Different regulations? I'm afraid I know very little where such things are concerned. I assumed that it was all rather one and the same. [She had known enough low-born men who fitted the term "gentlemen" admirably and enough high-born men who were best called "rogues."

If she has any real idea of the worry she's caused him, she seems settled enough on not acknowledging it for either of their sakes.

As to the matter of honour, well. There's little she can say there without crossing into the indecent. After all, it isn't an easy thing to explain: the offence David is most prone to giving. The one she'd be most angry at him offering Richard. To talk about it in advance would be more likely to bring trouble on one or both the men's heads rather than prevent it. Therefore:]

If he ever does give you cause for grievance with him, I do hope it will not darken our friendship. I would regret that greatly.

[ now would not be the time to chime in with the fact that -- a year ago and back home -- he'd happily proposed to a woman whose brother had tried to have him killed, who had attempted to violate a sometimes-lover of his, and whose death his sergeant had speedily delivered. christ, sharpe had stripped jane gibbons's portrait from her brother's corpse and kept it with him long after he'd met the english rose at her brother's grave-marker.

no, he's quite certain there is no offence existent that long could commit that would turn him off the beautiful miss faith. ]

The army runs on the purchase system, ma'am. [ when in doubt, fall back upon regulations. ] Commissions are purchased, as are subsequent promotions. As I take it, the Navy prefers to promote on merit.

[Faith tilts her head a little to the side. Her tone is... guarded, but there's a note of distaste to it.]

The navy prefers to claim to promote on merit.

[She knew from growing up in the house of a man who signed commissions and who entertained all sorts of captains vying for their favourites to move up in rank just how much of an illusion that really was.

There were captains (who went on to be admirals, some who went on to be Lords of the Admiralty) who truly believed in recognising merit. Gregory Hawke came to mind. Through (to her understanding) many years and much more than a well-born man his age would have had to suffer, he had risen by his own efforts to lieutenant. Beyond that, however, would have remained firmly out of his grasp. Had he not charmed the son of a Lord of the Admiralty. Edward, too, had come into his position as an officer by sheer favouritism of two captains.]

Commissions and promotions are not openly purchased, no, but... [Perhaps, she considered, that made the army a little more honest in what it presented, at least.] But very few poor men or men without friends of influence find themselves called "Captain." At least, as far as I have seen.

[A little bolder than she might otherwise have been, but... Well. Why shouldn't she be a little bold? She used his Christian name and allowed him to use hers. She could speak a little more openly about all she observed, especially on a matter so sensitive to him.]

Then it's a shame, for I hoped one arm of the military might've had it right. [ a soft sigh. ] Commissions in infantry regiments are...prohibitively priced. There's a certain sort they'd prefer to keep in the lines, Miss Faith.

[ and richard sharpe is -- at first glance -- that type. it took a young leader at assaye to see otherwise. ]

I've met the sort of man they prefer to have lead. [Her voice cools considerably, a slight edge to it. It isn't really directed at him, no, but at a memory that hasn't quite stopped hurting.

She straightens, shrugging her shoulders to hide a shudder.] I've never met a more ill-mannered [bastard, but that's no word for a lady to say] man in all my life.

[ he seems -- by all accounts -- thoroughly charmed by her opinion. but he doesn't dare let it show too blatantly. instead, it manifests in a twinkling eye and a twitching lip. ]

Money talks; merit walks. [ an american loyalist had once told him so and sharpe had taken it to heart. ] Of course, they ain't all useless stuffed silk stockings. Some have a mind for it. And some -- however rarely -- are granted their commissions on the field. They ain't worth a wooden penny, though.

[ he'd know; he once tried to sell his with little success. ]

[As distastefully as the rivalry between Aaron and Edward had been at the time and as messily as the ending of it had proven, both the courtship with Aaron's ending and Edward's eventual actions, it had impressed a few things on Faith.

Birth did not determine a man's morals. Edward's, deplorable as they had proven eventually, had at least been better than Aaron's. Besides, Richard seemed quite devoid of the deficiency Edward had proven to have. Or, at least, the way he spoke of David was a reassurance in that area.

Not that she presumed too much with this friendship of theirs, but she was certainly allowed a flight of fancy now and then, wasn't she?]

The rare occurrences, I imagine, speak to an undeniable ability. Something that cannot go unrecognised.

[Flattery? Yes. Blatantly so? Probably. But she did mean it, and she felt him more than owed the compliment.]

[ his smile returns -- albeit slowly and cautiously. ]

I must be honest with you, Faith. [ his voice wavers over the dropped title. ] Never have I purchased a single one of my promotions.

[ he says it in a tone betraying how obvious it all is. but he can't help but want to dip briefly into her good esteem, suggesting that not only was he made ensign upon merit but also found his way all the way to major on that same steam. or else a very many regimental positions were made vacant by the deaths of other officers. ]

[Faith smiles again. Not a broad smile. No, this one is much more of a quiet smile.

She is not young enough any longer to believe in ideals. Every man has his vices, often in greater abundance than his virtues. The task for a woman choosing the men who will be allowed into her society -- especially an unmarried woman -- is that of selecting a man whose virtues are noticeable and whose vices might be excused and unmentioned.

Richard Sharpe? Certainly seems to be that sort of man.]

Which, I have no doubt, means your merits are far beyond those who are your rank but bought theirs.

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