Post by chantalrose on Nov 8, 2008 17:41:49 GMT -6
Marcos: So, it was now mid day and Marcos found himself leaving the docks and pondering on a stroll down the streets were needed or should he head off to the local pub. The walk would win as he needed a clear mind for a change. His thoughts had been of nothing but worries and concerns for his beloved and working on La Nereida with the crew was a distraction, but only for a time. The dark skinned and dark haired man made his way down the street further before hands slowly find themselves resting at his back beneath the heavy black cape. The weather was much cooler now as winter began to make her claim over the lands and the warmth of the summer released hers. Dark intense eyes were narrowed focusing on his boot tips and the ground below, only glancing up occasionally just to make sure he wasn't about to run into anything or anyone.
Rosalind: It had started off as any other walk. She set her pace and kept with it, avoiding crowded streets as much as she could, though sometimes, a crowd was simply unavoidable. As she emerged from one such crowd, her maid caught up to her and handed Rosalind a letter. Rosalind read it briefly, then crumpled the paper and tossed it into the nearest brazier. She made her way down to the docks, had words with the man in charge of her latest shipment from the mainland, and scowling, set off back toward the castle. She didn't think she could walk fast enough to shake free of her worries, and all the joy had drained out of her day, leaving her rather tired. Just as she thought she was well quit of the docks, a boy tugged on her sleeve. "Madam, what are we to do with those crates?" he asked, looking as wroth as Rosalind felt. Rosalind threw her hands up in the air in an entirely Gaelic gesture and turned around. She had more shouting to do, apparently.
Chantal: Turas Lan was a vastly different environment than the cottage or the inn that Chantal usually inhabited. The valleys was home, but here was where she shopped. Coming into town every so often for supplies or for little stuff that might be needed- a bolt of cloth to make a new gown for Synnovea, a toy for Haji, or a knew sword for William. Gifts were always welcome to her children. This was one trip where she had not brought them. Instead the only person with her was Owena, one of the Strongarms that was borrowed from her duties at the inn to act as protector if need be. Strolling along the streets now, the woman in her pants and vest trailing behind, Chantal's sapphire gaze moving about to encompass everything as she made idle chatter.
Marcos: Marcos would pause and glance over his shoulder at the sound of a woman shouting in a Gaelic rant. He smirked as he turned to fully face the direction she was in with his arms coming up to cross over his chest. The Spaniard was obviously amused by this and stood in silence as his dark eyes watched the scene unfold before him. Women... they just didn't seem to fully understand the merchant ways of things. The boy whom she was agitated with was simply making sure he did with her things what she wanted. What person wouldn't want their cargo well looked after and handled? From the corner of his eyes, he would see another nearing the area and watched a moment with her as her companion hurried along to catch up. Before long, his eyes moved back to the first woman to see how she handled things. Should assistance be needed, he'd give it.. after all... from a merchant like himself, surly he could be of help in some matter of way.
Rosalind: "I do not care what you do with the crates. What have you to complain about if you receive coin for each crossing? Dump them into the sea if you desire, Captain, they are not mine. Shall I pay you again?" Rosalind, behind her usually placid mask, was seething. Wrath was certainly not one of the sins she was guilty of when she took herself to the confessional, but this was a matter that had persisted for far too long already. Generally an expert in these things, having managed a great household or two in the past, she knew precisely why she was so angry, and unfortunately for the captain, it had nothing to do with him. She pulled the edges of her shawl around her, though fury had heated her skin to a warm blush. "Je suis désolé, monsieur," she finally announced, not sounding a bit sorry. "I will pay you well to place the items in storage, but please...." She stepped closer to the man, inclining her head so that her words would not be easily heard beyond herself, the captain, and the messenger boy. "Plague me no more with this business. Is this acceptable?"
Chantal: Normally not one to nose in the business of others, Chantal found herself this day pausing to observe. The woman who seemed to be giving the fellow a tongue lashing seemed to have drawn many an eye. Folding her hands at her waist, Owena now caught up, Chantal raised a brow and grinned at her very put out companion. "Someday, when you realize I am not a child, I will stop leaving you behind. Next time do not interfere in my bartering." Chantal was not old, but neither young. Enough of the world had been seen by her blue eyes, and their were inner scars enough to prove it.
Marcos: A dark brow would arch as he continued to watch the woman only grow more aggravated before finally exploding. A shake of head was made before arms fell to his sides. One hand moved to idly rest on the hilt of his rapier and he'd close the distance between himself and the trio involved with such delicate matters. "Buenos Tardes Senorita... y too Senors... eh, I could not help but watch and ask mi-self if perhaps I am able to be of some assistance to this... matter. "Por favor.. forgive me...for not introducing mi-self right away. I am Captain Marcos de La Costa of Espainia...currently under the command of La Senora Duchess. " He would offer his hand to all as it left his rapier and should the lady accept, he would take her hand, bow and place a chaste kiss to the back of her hand rather than her knuckles. After all, he was a man already spoken for. The last thing he needed was for people to get the wrong impression of him, by the passer bys that is.
Rosalind: The captain stepped back as she stepped closer, and from his expression, it was clear he would not give up in his mission. No matter how persistent the woman was, his employer had paid him well to ensure these crates arrived in Lady Rosalind's possession. Dump them into the sea, ha! Yet the woman was singularly infuriating, and he was growing very near to tossing both her and the crates in the sea just to be finished with the business. Paid well, yes. Patience of a saint? No. Whatever the lady's business with his employer was made him very curious, but he was beginning to feel like a mouse caught between two cats. Even if she was the prettier of the two, he recognized that dangerous glint in her eyes. When Rosalind suggested the warehouse, he finally relented. It would not meet the terms of agreement already established, but at least he could be rid of this Norman harpy. "Aye, madam, the warehouse it is." He promptly held his hand out for her coins. When a small bag landed in his hand, he hefted it, then nodded. "Come, Angus." Looking past the Picardie demon, he nodded to the onlookers. He gave one last smile to the lady. "Well fought, madam. I suggest you go warm yourself up. You seem to be on the wrong side of the crowd." The captain blinked in surprise at the arrival of the Spaniard. No fool he, he waited to hear whose side this intruder thought he was on before speaking next. Rosalind, for her part, wiped the glower from her face and smiled at the interruption. The captain may well be right, she thought with a swift look around the docks. She had not wished discretion with the captain, who had used privacy to his advantage during their previous meeting to bully her into accepting the delivery. Yet Rosalind lived life in the background and abhorred being the center of anything -- it was not her pride that was insulted here. "Ah, it is good to meet you, Captain de la Costa. I am sorry if we were ... " she waved her hand, her usual eloquence fleeing with her temper. Fortunately, she had a moment to gather herself as he took her hand. She curtseyed politely. "It is nothing worth troubling yourself over. I believe the gentleman and I have come to an agreement. Have we not?" At the captain's nod, Rosalind smiled tautly. "I am Rosalind Lamont, in service of Her Grace."
Chantal: Now, this was an interesting exchange indeed! Noticing the approach of a man from the corner of her an eye, Chantal poked Owena in the ribs. Her protector looked like those green eyes had bugged out of her head. "Oh do stop gawking at that poor man! He is not some prize stallion you are buying..." A shake of head given, blonde curls swaying about her face, Chantal gave a nod and curtsy,"Greetings, sir, I am Chantal May Rose." Though, honestly, it seemed his attention was on the other woman. Completely understandable, considering she was having issues as to where Chantal was just dealing with a troublesome companion. Rude mannered chit that she was!
Marcos: Once her hand was taken, the chaste kiss placed and her name taken to memory, he released her hand as he came up from a low bow. " A pleasure Senorita Rosalind Lamont." He straightened his stance and looked to the other captain before eyes fell back to Rosalind. "Eh... Senorita.. I am thinking, if you do not wish to be troubled to mucho with matters such as these... might I suggest you be more clear on what you want where and how it is to get there.. si? Y eh... by clear... I mean crystal clear...then there would be no misunderstandings.. hm?" He would flash her a grin, charming this one was whether he was taken or not. Marcos always seem to have that way about him whether he wanted it or not. Those dark eyes then shifted to another arrival, another woman and he would again smile as he greeted her. "Buenos Tardes Senorita..." The Spaniard gave a sweeping gaze over the many faces that were now gathered about.
Rosalind: "The situation is quite clear," she said soberly, despite Marcos' charm and the captain's smug sense of victory. "Some crates arrived from Scotland, and the captain believes that they were intended for me. Upon examining the crates, I realized they were not my possessions at all, nor would I have any use for them. I asked him to take them back, which he did, but what did I receive this morning, but a notice of his return, and a demand that I claim my possessions. So now I simply ask that he takes these crates here, to that storehouse there, for a time in which I can find a more reasonable captain to return these crates to their rightful owner." Or throw them into the sea herself, if she so felt like it. She stamped down the flame of rebellious temper that flared in her and smiled almost pleasantly. "I am sorry we caused such a scene, but we are both of an intractable nature."
Chantal: That inner voice told Chantal not to speak, that this business was not hers, was ignored. It had been some time since it'd been listened to. Indeed it had only been the other night that some snooty woman had been told exactly why her husband did not like her company. Quite an unpleasant scene that had been. Yet, Chantal had felt such pity for the poor man! "If the belongings are not yours then perhaps a notice could be posted? One here and one, perhaps, sent back with this Captain? That would likely help the rightful owner to find them and get them off your hands."
Marcos: Marcos would look back to Rosalind and listened as she explained the situation in detail. By the time she finished, that grin had evolved into a smile and the smile into laughter. It wasn't done in disrespect to her or any others currently present but this amused him very much. Once he regained control of himself, with a smirk still, he'd give his reply. "Ah.. well Senorita Rosalind... should your captain aqui... not agree to accepting such a difficult task then perhaps I can help you find a man befitting the job.. eh? I know such a man.. in fact.. I am that man...Y Si..." Now looking to the other woman." I am thinking Senorita Chantal has a fine idea." He added as he was now looking between them all. Some wondered how on earth Kaori was able to handle such a man like him. Not only was he charming but he could be such a pain in the rear if the situation was serious or less than such.
Rosalind: "You needn't mock me, monsieur!" she complained wryly, just as her Scottish captain opened his mouth to protest. He was not intractable! Whatever that was. She studied the lady with her helpful suggestion. "The rightful owner already refused to accept, which is why this man plagues me today. Quels que soit," she added, throwing her shoulders out and lifting her chin. "I do not want them, but I will store them." It chafed her to be wrong, but she saw no easier route than paying for the space in a warehouse. "Well, why are you still here?" she asked the captain, one brow arched pointedly. The captain bowed and took off, shoving the boy in front of him. Angus stumbled a bit under the rough handling, then quickly took off for his ship. Rosalind sighed, and dropped her forehead into her hand. "Ah, I am sorry to involve anyone in this. What a headache."
Chantal: "Un monsieur si ennuyeux qui un," Chantal's gaze followed the now departing Captain. Then her sapphire gaze went to the polite Marcos. Apparently this man was a gentleman! A comment was not made though on the crates. Apparently it was a sore subject that the woman, Rosalind, seem inclined just to drop. If that was her wish then Chantal saw no reason to disagree. "Well, it seems that he will now leave you be, miss."
Marcos: "Que?!" He asked. "I am mocking you?...No no no Senorita... I am only trying to help.. but" He gave a shug of his shoulders. "If you would rather be stuck with said crates... then perhaps I am no longer needed aqui..." He took a step back and watched as the other two males took their leave. "Senors.." He said in their depature before looking back to the ladies. "Je suis desole que je ne pourrais pas etre de plus d'aide a vous." Marcos said and yes, in her tongue. He bowed to both women and turned on his heel. "Adios Senoritas..." He added as he took but only a few steps off. The french... they always made things more difficult than necessary he thought, but if he knew women, he knew that she'd have a change of heart and indeed need his help. This of course had him smiling, of course neither woman could see this now as his back was to them and he was departing.
Rosalind: She laughed, first at Chantal's comment, and then warmly in response to Marcos. She wished she hadn't been so uppity -- it was not a side she often showed. "You were very helpful, Captain," she called after him, folding her arms across her chest. "I may have thrown him in the harbor if not for you," she added in French, once she was certain the Scottish captain was out of earshot. And that certainly would have made returning her shipment back to Scotland more difficult. "He was worse this morning, when I spoke to him more privately. I -- well, I do not take well to being bullied." She wished she could offer further explanation, but there really wasn't any need for it other than to prove she was not the wrong party in this misadventure.
Chantal: Captain de la Costa's use of the french language, quite well, was not missed. Chantal raised a brow, curiosity sparkling in the eyes that followed him. Sapphire gaze swung to Rosalind, humor on her face and the smile that curved her lips,"I do not blame you, Lady Lamont. Being bullied is...enough to make one pull the hair from their head." Chantal had dealt with that enough to know. Luckily for her, all the blonde strands were still in place. A sign of strength.
Marcos: Marcos heard her words and they had him pausing, glancing to her over his shoulder and his eyes narrowed. Did she mean bullied in the way he thought? If so... Dios be with him for Marcos would make him regret whatever wrong he had performed against her. He turned to face them fully once more. "Senorita... did this captain of yours handle you in a dishonorable manner?" He asked, already he sensed the answer but he needed it to be confirmed. He began to close the distance again between himself and the women once more. Perhaps it was disrespectful to inquire such details... but if what happened, happened in the manner he thought...Marcos would right the wrong. His family and his people not ones to take to those type things with little to no care. Where he was from, women were treated like goddesses, despite how difficult or bullheaded they were. Already that hand eased itself to the hilt of his rapier, praying she would give him the reason he was looking to unsheathe it.
Rosalind: Rosalind's face was still heated from the argument. Though her expression did not change, her face blanched, answer enough to his question. "You seem to have all your hair, my dear!" she said, her tone a bit over-warm as she playfully examined Chantal's blond head. "Though I would be bald if I was given to that habit." She grinned, then turned to Marcos. "Captain, please -- he was paid to do much worse than he managed to accomplish. My concern is with his employer, not the brute himself. I do believe he will have what is coming to him, though, for God is just." Rosalind had far too many such men in her life to hound a ham-fisted merchant captain. She paused, surprised at her own flip answer. She inclined her head apologetically. Perhaps she should grow accustomed to reactions like Captain de la Costa's. It was horrifying that she was making violence a relative question at all. She had never been a woman who believed in moral relativity. "He did, monsieur, and I would not mind if the Lord's justice were...expedited."
Chantal: "As is yours." The words were warm, a compliment in many ways. Obviously the woman had not let that rude captain get the best of her. Attention was turned to the approaching Captain de la Costa, gaze sweeping from head to toe appraisingly. Not rudely, just to hold the mental imagine in her mind for future encounters. Yet, it was the words of Owena, meant to be a whisper though not succeeding, that had her face flushing red as laughter came,"I'd love to watch him expedite a bit of justice..."
Marcos: Marcos watched and listened, waiting for the very thing he needed to send him to do justice., even if it were by his own hand. Once it was had, his jaw would tighten and just as calm and collective as he could be, he would nod, smile, and give a nod to them both. He turned once more and walked in the direction the other captain and boy had moved in. He was set to find this man and make him pay for such acts, whether that debt was fulfilled with his life or some other precious item of choice would yet to be known. Marcos was a worldly man, spoke and understood many languages. He needed to in order to do business and unfortunately in this same business you ran into shady characters. Making a man like Marcos have the need to learn and know how to handle himself and take care of things should the occasions arise. This being one of those occasions, he was set to make sure things were handled properly... properly in the sense of how things worked when on the seas.
Rosalind: She worried over her lower lip as Marcos took off. Her heart somewhere in her throat, she nevertheless managed to smile. "My lady, I don't think I got your name. Understandable, though...." She closed her eyes briefly. She could act as stolid as she wished about the day's events, but she was still human. Bruises would fade and she'd live to fight another day, even if she was bothered that she wasn't necessarily doing all the fighting. Never a subscriber to romantic notions, she was still playing too much the part of damsel in distress.
Chantal: "I am Chantal Rose." Noticing the way the woman closed her eyes, concern appeared openly on Chantal's features. "Lady Lamont, are you well? Would you like to sit?" There were always places to find a seat and if need be Owena could be sent to borrow one. It was noted that Captain de la Costa had went off to dispense justice and she worried. Hopefully nothing untoward happened to the gentleman.
Rosalind: "Oh, no, I'm fine. And please, call me Rosalind." She smiled, her eyes opening. "It has just been a very long day. And I am sorry if I distracted you from anything? Ah, were you shopping?" She took Chantal's offer anyway, only so far as to find some steps to occupy. She gestured for Chantal to join her.
Chantal: Following after, noting that Owena was coming along, Chantal took a seat by Rosalind. "Only if you will call me Chantal." Smiling warmly, folding hands in her laps, she'd look around at those moving about the city. "Oh, nothing important. I was doing a bit of shopping for my children. My daughter has been wanting a new gown so I was in search of some fabric to use. Though I have not found anything. My attempts at bartering have not gone as I wished..." A glare was gained from Owena at this comment, but Chantal pointedly ignored it.
Rosalind: "I know of a good shop nearby. When we are finished here, I could show it to you." She had arrived in Skye with nothing in the way of possessions. Her first several days here had been a whirlwind of buying bolts of fabric and other necessities. Rather than hand off the task to a lady's maid, Rosalind had acquainted herself with Turas Lan by shopping for herself. She studied the ship currently holding the crates at the center of today's controversy, hoping to catch sight of Captain de la Costa. He had been every inch the gentleman, and she had no idea how to repay him.
Chantal: Chantal had returned to Skye feeling as though her world had shattered. Only her children and the few trinkets taken from the camp that had been her home for years. It had been with the aid of family, a large one, that she had begun to find her place again. Of course, the task of raising three children alone was not an easy one. "Oh that would be wonderful. To be honest I do not have quite the head for choosing fabrics as I once did. My daughter is nine and quite finicky over what she wears."
Marcos: It may have seemed like forever since Marcos had disappeared into the crowd, going in the direction of the man that had done wrong in the eyes of many and especially Marcos. With his rapier pointed into the back of the other captain, he directed the man in from which both had just been. Both men were a sight...tell-tale signs of a scuffle had happened was more than evident from the torn clothes and the scratches and scrapes on each man's face. Marcos was smiling of course where as the other was not in such a joyous mood. "Hola senoritas... I come bearing a gift for Senorita Rosalind." He said as he pushed the man forward a bit more by his collar while the other hand continued to press the rapier's blade tip into his back. "I am thinking he has something he wishes to say. Is this not right mi amigo?" He asked with another jerk and harder press of the blade before the captain grunted with discomfort and nodded in agreement as Marcos' eyes looked back to the women.
Rosalind: "Well, with demands like those, no wonder." Rosalind smiled. "It's difficult to find fabric for a princess still prone to grass stains." She stood up upon seeing Marcos and the Scottish merchant captain. Thankfully, their argument earlier was but a distant memory for those passing by, and they earned no more than the casually interested glances of new arrivals. She studied the Scot's face. Marcos had not been as kind to him as the Scot had been to her. Rosalind's bruises were easily hidden beneath her dress. Sheer obstinacy on her part made them nearly painless. She glanced up at Marcos. "Thank you -- I mean, I do not know how to thank you for this, but you have my sincerest gratitude." The merchant captain looked unamused at Rosalind's speech, but with the blade poking his back, made no comment until he was told to speak. When he did, Rosalind listened very carefully, then thought hard about her response. She was used to doling out justice as the Lady Inveryne, just as she was used to giving mercy to those who deserved it. The man had been following the orders of his lord, and Rosalind could not be too severe with him. "He apologized. I cannot demand more than that from him."
Chantal: "Indeed." Laughing softly, sapphire eyes moving from two children racing around the feet of a woman, she grinned,"Synnovea, my daughter, is a Lady except when her brother antagonizes her. Do you have any children?" It was a perfectly natural question to ask, in her mind. Noting that Owena had perked up, even dusted off her vest, Chantal smirked,"I would say that Captain de la Costa is making a return..." And sure enough, there was the man. A polite nod of head was given,"I am glad to see you return safely, Captain."
Marcos: Marcos was worried very little how people gawked and stared at he and the Scotsman as they moved through the street until they reached their destination. Marcos went as far as winking to a few of those that passed them by in a humored way. To him this was all just a game, the game of control. Who had it over whom, how, and for how long.. all for which Marcos was mastering now. Once the man apologized, he swiftly turned him to face him. Dark intense eyes narrowed and out of no where did a fist of fury come, making contact with the Scotsman's chin. As the Scotsman was thrown off balance, the Spaniards rapier was lifted and lowered with a quick swipe, slicing off all four digits of the Scotsman's left hand. "That senor is so you do not forget to never strike at a woman." Marcos moved quickly behind the Scotsman as he was bent over and boot met rear end, sending the man down into the earth. "A message for your Lord as well... tell him he will soon be dealt with as well." The rapier was cleaned off then with a cloth tucked under his cape and sheathed while the Scotsman captain scrambled to his feet and moved off. The Spaniard then returned his attention to the women before an arm was lifted and his sleeved was used to wipe away the moisture from his brow. "Por favor Senoritas... I am sorry this day has not been bien for you... hopefully now it will be."
Rosalind: "No. No children," Rosalind said with a light shrug and a half smile. "You are lucky, Chantal. Three." She laughed a bit at the description of the children. "I had no brothers, but I imagine I would forget my manners, too, in such circumstances." It was an odd thing to discuss while de la Costa took care of the merchant captain, but make no mistake -- Rosalind forced herself to watch the entire thing. Though it was brutal, it was the justice she had asked for. She curtseyed deeply to the Spanish captain. "It is much better now. I wish I knew what to say to such kindness." As Rosalind watched, the boy the captain had sent after her dragged the captain to his feet and pulled him toward the ferrier. They left without a word -- just grunts of exertion, and a half-completed curse from Angus. She hoped the boy found a better man to serve, and soon, for his sake. Then she turned back to the captain. "Are you unhurt?"
Chantal: Oddly enough, none of what was being done bothered Chantal in the least. Briefly her sapphire gaze would flicker to the scots captain who was being beaten by Captain de la Costa. Yet, it was as though the woman watched a simple conversation. Worse had been seen by her, honestly. "Synnovea has two brothers. The one is quite young and as yet not much of an aggravation." The fact that she was lucky wasn't disputed. The children were a blessing. Smiling at Captain de la Costa, she murmured,"Such a gentleman to aid a lady so."
Marcos: " I am bueno.. only scratches.. they are nada. So por favor, do not worry yourselves." He said as he began to readjust and situate his clothing the best he could for a not so rough appearance. Dark eyes moved in the direction of those that fled, making sure they took their leave. Eyes would narrow a last time as he gruffly huffed in an exhale before looking back to Rosalind and Chantal. "I do what I think mi madre would be proud of. I know she would not be muy feliz with me if I did not at least try to right some wrongs when given the opportunity...si?" He said with a small grin as he adjusted the last of his slightly tattered clothing. "Well, if you will excuse me Senoritas.. I must be on mi way. I hope the next time we met, it is on better terms." He added with a flash of his charming smile. "Buenos Tardes Y Adios..." The Spaniard said as he dipped his head to the women and began to move off. There was one other person to deal with before he could say the score was settled on behalf of Rosalind. Soon, the Spanish Captain was just another face among the crowd and he disappeared entirely.
Rosalind: She smiled. "Oh, Captain, I would very much like to have met your mother." She would have, too. There might be some secrets worth gleaning if it produced a man as honorable as de la Costa. They would be useful to know, some day. She canted her head, studying him as he walked away. "He certainly is chipper for a man on a mission." The expression vanished and soon Rosalind's concentration was back upon Chantal. "I certainly have reason to take you to that stall, Chantal. I owe the man new clothes, at the very least." She pulled her shawl around her shoulders and secured it again with the heavy brooch she'd purchased with her own limited funds.
Chantal: "Take care and be safe, Captain de la Costa." As the man left, Chantal looked over at Rosalind. Brow was raised, humor in sapphire eyes,"He is indeed. That one is an interesting man." Making a mental note to encounter him again, if only to sate the piqued curiosity, she smiled. "Oh, then shall we head in that direction? Owena will keep an eye on us to make sure none accost us."
Rosalind: "Definitely." She needed to get her mind off this business as quickly as possible. No doubt it would rear it's ugly head again soon, but until then, was it unreasonable to ask for a few hours of delusion? She shook her head in wonder. "Of course, that would be wonderful." They headed in the direction of the fabric seller, and if the day's events were not completely erased from her mind within a few minutes, they were certainly far from her new priorities.
Rosalind: It had started off as any other walk. She set her pace and kept with it, avoiding crowded streets as much as she could, though sometimes, a crowd was simply unavoidable. As she emerged from one such crowd, her maid caught up to her and handed Rosalind a letter. Rosalind read it briefly, then crumpled the paper and tossed it into the nearest brazier. She made her way down to the docks, had words with the man in charge of her latest shipment from the mainland, and scowling, set off back toward the castle. She didn't think she could walk fast enough to shake free of her worries, and all the joy had drained out of her day, leaving her rather tired. Just as she thought she was well quit of the docks, a boy tugged on her sleeve. "Madam, what are we to do with those crates?" he asked, looking as wroth as Rosalind felt. Rosalind threw her hands up in the air in an entirely Gaelic gesture and turned around. She had more shouting to do, apparently.
Chantal: Turas Lan was a vastly different environment than the cottage or the inn that Chantal usually inhabited. The valleys was home, but here was where she shopped. Coming into town every so often for supplies or for little stuff that might be needed- a bolt of cloth to make a new gown for Synnovea, a toy for Haji, or a knew sword for William. Gifts were always welcome to her children. This was one trip where she had not brought them. Instead the only person with her was Owena, one of the Strongarms that was borrowed from her duties at the inn to act as protector if need be. Strolling along the streets now, the woman in her pants and vest trailing behind, Chantal's sapphire gaze moving about to encompass everything as she made idle chatter.
Marcos: Marcos would pause and glance over his shoulder at the sound of a woman shouting in a Gaelic rant. He smirked as he turned to fully face the direction she was in with his arms coming up to cross over his chest. The Spaniard was obviously amused by this and stood in silence as his dark eyes watched the scene unfold before him. Women... they just didn't seem to fully understand the merchant ways of things. The boy whom she was agitated with was simply making sure he did with her things what she wanted. What person wouldn't want their cargo well looked after and handled? From the corner of his eyes, he would see another nearing the area and watched a moment with her as her companion hurried along to catch up. Before long, his eyes moved back to the first woman to see how she handled things. Should assistance be needed, he'd give it.. after all... from a merchant like himself, surly he could be of help in some matter of way.
Rosalind: "I do not care what you do with the crates. What have you to complain about if you receive coin for each crossing? Dump them into the sea if you desire, Captain, they are not mine. Shall I pay you again?" Rosalind, behind her usually placid mask, was seething. Wrath was certainly not one of the sins she was guilty of when she took herself to the confessional, but this was a matter that had persisted for far too long already. Generally an expert in these things, having managed a great household or two in the past, she knew precisely why she was so angry, and unfortunately for the captain, it had nothing to do with him. She pulled the edges of her shawl around her, though fury had heated her skin to a warm blush. "Je suis désolé, monsieur," she finally announced, not sounding a bit sorry. "I will pay you well to place the items in storage, but please...." She stepped closer to the man, inclining her head so that her words would not be easily heard beyond herself, the captain, and the messenger boy. "Plague me no more with this business. Is this acceptable?"
Chantal: Normally not one to nose in the business of others, Chantal found herself this day pausing to observe. The woman who seemed to be giving the fellow a tongue lashing seemed to have drawn many an eye. Folding her hands at her waist, Owena now caught up, Chantal raised a brow and grinned at her very put out companion. "Someday, when you realize I am not a child, I will stop leaving you behind. Next time do not interfere in my bartering." Chantal was not old, but neither young. Enough of the world had been seen by her blue eyes, and their were inner scars enough to prove it.
Marcos: A dark brow would arch as he continued to watch the woman only grow more aggravated before finally exploding. A shake of head was made before arms fell to his sides. One hand moved to idly rest on the hilt of his rapier and he'd close the distance between himself and the trio involved with such delicate matters. "Buenos Tardes Senorita... y too Senors... eh, I could not help but watch and ask mi-self if perhaps I am able to be of some assistance to this... matter. "Por favor.. forgive me...for not introducing mi-self right away. I am Captain Marcos de La Costa of Espainia...currently under the command of La Senora Duchess. " He would offer his hand to all as it left his rapier and should the lady accept, he would take her hand, bow and place a chaste kiss to the back of her hand rather than her knuckles. After all, he was a man already spoken for. The last thing he needed was for people to get the wrong impression of him, by the passer bys that is.
Rosalind: The captain stepped back as she stepped closer, and from his expression, it was clear he would not give up in his mission. No matter how persistent the woman was, his employer had paid him well to ensure these crates arrived in Lady Rosalind's possession. Dump them into the sea, ha! Yet the woman was singularly infuriating, and he was growing very near to tossing both her and the crates in the sea just to be finished with the business. Paid well, yes. Patience of a saint? No. Whatever the lady's business with his employer was made him very curious, but he was beginning to feel like a mouse caught between two cats. Even if she was the prettier of the two, he recognized that dangerous glint in her eyes. When Rosalind suggested the warehouse, he finally relented. It would not meet the terms of agreement already established, but at least he could be rid of this Norman harpy. "Aye, madam, the warehouse it is." He promptly held his hand out for her coins. When a small bag landed in his hand, he hefted it, then nodded. "Come, Angus." Looking past the Picardie demon, he nodded to the onlookers. He gave one last smile to the lady. "Well fought, madam. I suggest you go warm yourself up. You seem to be on the wrong side of the crowd." The captain blinked in surprise at the arrival of the Spaniard. No fool he, he waited to hear whose side this intruder thought he was on before speaking next. Rosalind, for her part, wiped the glower from her face and smiled at the interruption. The captain may well be right, she thought with a swift look around the docks. She had not wished discretion with the captain, who had used privacy to his advantage during their previous meeting to bully her into accepting the delivery. Yet Rosalind lived life in the background and abhorred being the center of anything -- it was not her pride that was insulted here. "Ah, it is good to meet you, Captain de la Costa. I am sorry if we were ... " she waved her hand, her usual eloquence fleeing with her temper. Fortunately, she had a moment to gather herself as he took her hand. She curtseyed politely. "It is nothing worth troubling yourself over. I believe the gentleman and I have come to an agreement. Have we not?" At the captain's nod, Rosalind smiled tautly. "I am Rosalind Lamont, in service of Her Grace."
Chantal: Now, this was an interesting exchange indeed! Noticing the approach of a man from the corner of her an eye, Chantal poked Owena in the ribs. Her protector looked like those green eyes had bugged out of her head. "Oh do stop gawking at that poor man! He is not some prize stallion you are buying..." A shake of head given, blonde curls swaying about her face, Chantal gave a nod and curtsy,"Greetings, sir, I am Chantal May Rose." Though, honestly, it seemed his attention was on the other woman. Completely understandable, considering she was having issues as to where Chantal was just dealing with a troublesome companion. Rude mannered chit that she was!
Marcos: Once her hand was taken, the chaste kiss placed and her name taken to memory, he released her hand as he came up from a low bow. " A pleasure Senorita Rosalind Lamont." He straightened his stance and looked to the other captain before eyes fell back to Rosalind. "Eh... Senorita.. I am thinking, if you do not wish to be troubled to mucho with matters such as these... might I suggest you be more clear on what you want where and how it is to get there.. si? Y eh... by clear... I mean crystal clear...then there would be no misunderstandings.. hm?" He would flash her a grin, charming this one was whether he was taken or not. Marcos always seem to have that way about him whether he wanted it or not. Those dark eyes then shifted to another arrival, another woman and he would again smile as he greeted her. "Buenos Tardes Senorita..." The Spaniard gave a sweeping gaze over the many faces that were now gathered about.
Rosalind: "The situation is quite clear," she said soberly, despite Marcos' charm and the captain's smug sense of victory. "Some crates arrived from Scotland, and the captain believes that they were intended for me. Upon examining the crates, I realized they were not my possessions at all, nor would I have any use for them. I asked him to take them back, which he did, but what did I receive this morning, but a notice of his return, and a demand that I claim my possessions. So now I simply ask that he takes these crates here, to that storehouse there, for a time in which I can find a more reasonable captain to return these crates to their rightful owner." Or throw them into the sea herself, if she so felt like it. She stamped down the flame of rebellious temper that flared in her and smiled almost pleasantly. "I am sorry we caused such a scene, but we are both of an intractable nature."
Chantal: That inner voice told Chantal not to speak, that this business was not hers, was ignored. It had been some time since it'd been listened to. Indeed it had only been the other night that some snooty woman had been told exactly why her husband did not like her company. Quite an unpleasant scene that had been. Yet, Chantal had felt such pity for the poor man! "If the belongings are not yours then perhaps a notice could be posted? One here and one, perhaps, sent back with this Captain? That would likely help the rightful owner to find them and get them off your hands."
Marcos: Marcos would look back to Rosalind and listened as she explained the situation in detail. By the time she finished, that grin had evolved into a smile and the smile into laughter. It wasn't done in disrespect to her or any others currently present but this amused him very much. Once he regained control of himself, with a smirk still, he'd give his reply. "Ah.. well Senorita Rosalind... should your captain aqui... not agree to accepting such a difficult task then perhaps I can help you find a man befitting the job.. eh? I know such a man.. in fact.. I am that man...Y Si..." Now looking to the other woman." I am thinking Senorita Chantal has a fine idea." He added as he was now looking between them all. Some wondered how on earth Kaori was able to handle such a man like him. Not only was he charming but he could be such a pain in the rear if the situation was serious or less than such.
Rosalind: "You needn't mock me, monsieur!" she complained wryly, just as her Scottish captain opened his mouth to protest. He was not intractable! Whatever that was. She studied the lady with her helpful suggestion. "The rightful owner already refused to accept, which is why this man plagues me today. Quels que soit," she added, throwing her shoulders out and lifting her chin. "I do not want them, but I will store them." It chafed her to be wrong, but she saw no easier route than paying for the space in a warehouse. "Well, why are you still here?" she asked the captain, one brow arched pointedly. The captain bowed and took off, shoving the boy in front of him. Angus stumbled a bit under the rough handling, then quickly took off for his ship. Rosalind sighed, and dropped her forehead into her hand. "Ah, I am sorry to involve anyone in this. What a headache."
Chantal: "Un monsieur si ennuyeux qui un," Chantal's gaze followed the now departing Captain. Then her sapphire gaze went to the polite Marcos. Apparently this man was a gentleman! A comment was not made though on the crates. Apparently it was a sore subject that the woman, Rosalind, seem inclined just to drop. If that was her wish then Chantal saw no reason to disagree. "Well, it seems that he will now leave you be, miss."
Marcos: "Que?!" He asked. "I am mocking you?...No no no Senorita... I am only trying to help.. but" He gave a shug of his shoulders. "If you would rather be stuck with said crates... then perhaps I am no longer needed aqui..." He took a step back and watched as the other two males took their leave. "Senors.." He said in their depature before looking back to the ladies. "Je suis desole que je ne pourrais pas etre de plus d'aide a vous." Marcos said and yes, in her tongue. He bowed to both women and turned on his heel. "Adios Senoritas..." He added as he took but only a few steps off. The french... they always made things more difficult than necessary he thought, but if he knew women, he knew that she'd have a change of heart and indeed need his help. This of course had him smiling, of course neither woman could see this now as his back was to them and he was departing.
Rosalind: She laughed, first at Chantal's comment, and then warmly in response to Marcos. She wished she hadn't been so uppity -- it was not a side she often showed. "You were very helpful, Captain," she called after him, folding her arms across her chest. "I may have thrown him in the harbor if not for you," she added in French, once she was certain the Scottish captain was out of earshot. And that certainly would have made returning her shipment back to Scotland more difficult. "He was worse this morning, when I spoke to him more privately. I -- well, I do not take well to being bullied." She wished she could offer further explanation, but there really wasn't any need for it other than to prove she was not the wrong party in this misadventure.
Chantal: Captain de la Costa's use of the french language, quite well, was not missed. Chantal raised a brow, curiosity sparkling in the eyes that followed him. Sapphire gaze swung to Rosalind, humor on her face and the smile that curved her lips,"I do not blame you, Lady Lamont. Being bullied is...enough to make one pull the hair from their head." Chantal had dealt with that enough to know. Luckily for her, all the blonde strands were still in place. A sign of strength.
Marcos: Marcos heard her words and they had him pausing, glancing to her over his shoulder and his eyes narrowed. Did she mean bullied in the way he thought? If so... Dios be with him for Marcos would make him regret whatever wrong he had performed against her. He turned to face them fully once more. "Senorita... did this captain of yours handle you in a dishonorable manner?" He asked, already he sensed the answer but he needed it to be confirmed. He began to close the distance again between himself and the women once more. Perhaps it was disrespectful to inquire such details... but if what happened, happened in the manner he thought...Marcos would right the wrong. His family and his people not ones to take to those type things with little to no care. Where he was from, women were treated like goddesses, despite how difficult or bullheaded they were. Already that hand eased itself to the hilt of his rapier, praying she would give him the reason he was looking to unsheathe it.
Rosalind: Rosalind's face was still heated from the argument. Though her expression did not change, her face blanched, answer enough to his question. "You seem to have all your hair, my dear!" she said, her tone a bit over-warm as she playfully examined Chantal's blond head. "Though I would be bald if I was given to that habit." She grinned, then turned to Marcos. "Captain, please -- he was paid to do much worse than he managed to accomplish. My concern is with his employer, not the brute himself. I do believe he will have what is coming to him, though, for God is just." Rosalind had far too many such men in her life to hound a ham-fisted merchant captain. She paused, surprised at her own flip answer. She inclined her head apologetically. Perhaps she should grow accustomed to reactions like Captain de la Costa's. It was horrifying that she was making violence a relative question at all. She had never been a woman who believed in moral relativity. "He did, monsieur, and I would not mind if the Lord's justice were...expedited."
Chantal: "As is yours." The words were warm, a compliment in many ways. Obviously the woman had not let that rude captain get the best of her. Attention was turned to the approaching Captain de la Costa, gaze sweeping from head to toe appraisingly. Not rudely, just to hold the mental imagine in her mind for future encounters. Yet, it was the words of Owena, meant to be a whisper though not succeeding, that had her face flushing red as laughter came,"I'd love to watch him expedite a bit of justice..."
Marcos: Marcos watched and listened, waiting for the very thing he needed to send him to do justice., even if it were by his own hand. Once it was had, his jaw would tighten and just as calm and collective as he could be, he would nod, smile, and give a nod to them both. He turned once more and walked in the direction the other captain and boy had moved in. He was set to find this man and make him pay for such acts, whether that debt was fulfilled with his life or some other precious item of choice would yet to be known. Marcos was a worldly man, spoke and understood many languages. He needed to in order to do business and unfortunately in this same business you ran into shady characters. Making a man like Marcos have the need to learn and know how to handle himself and take care of things should the occasions arise. This being one of those occasions, he was set to make sure things were handled properly... properly in the sense of how things worked when on the seas.
Rosalind: She worried over her lower lip as Marcos took off. Her heart somewhere in her throat, she nevertheless managed to smile. "My lady, I don't think I got your name. Understandable, though...." She closed her eyes briefly. She could act as stolid as she wished about the day's events, but she was still human. Bruises would fade and she'd live to fight another day, even if she was bothered that she wasn't necessarily doing all the fighting. Never a subscriber to romantic notions, she was still playing too much the part of damsel in distress.
Chantal: "I am Chantal Rose." Noticing the way the woman closed her eyes, concern appeared openly on Chantal's features. "Lady Lamont, are you well? Would you like to sit?" There were always places to find a seat and if need be Owena could be sent to borrow one. It was noted that Captain de la Costa had went off to dispense justice and she worried. Hopefully nothing untoward happened to the gentleman.
Rosalind: "Oh, no, I'm fine. And please, call me Rosalind." She smiled, her eyes opening. "It has just been a very long day. And I am sorry if I distracted you from anything? Ah, were you shopping?" She took Chantal's offer anyway, only so far as to find some steps to occupy. She gestured for Chantal to join her.
Chantal: Following after, noting that Owena was coming along, Chantal took a seat by Rosalind. "Only if you will call me Chantal." Smiling warmly, folding hands in her laps, she'd look around at those moving about the city. "Oh, nothing important. I was doing a bit of shopping for my children. My daughter has been wanting a new gown so I was in search of some fabric to use. Though I have not found anything. My attempts at bartering have not gone as I wished..." A glare was gained from Owena at this comment, but Chantal pointedly ignored it.
Rosalind: "I know of a good shop nearby. When we are finished here, I could show it to you." She had arrived in Skye with nothing in the way of possessions. Her first several days here had been a whirlwind of buying bolts of fabric and other necessities. Rather than hand off the task to a lady's maid, Rosalind had acquainted herself with Turas Lan by shopping for herself. She studied the ship currently holding the crates at the center of today's controversy, hoping to catch sight of Captain de la Costa. He had been every inch the gentleman, and she had no idea how to repay him.
Chantal: Chantal had returned to Skye feeling as though her world had shattered. Only her children and the few trinkets taken from the camp that had been her home for years. It had been with the aid of family, a large one, that she had begun to find her place again. Of course, the task of raising three children alone was not an easy one. "Oh that would be wonderful. To be honest I do not have quite the head for choosing fabrics as I once did. My daughter is nine and quite finicky over what she wears."
Marcos: It may have seemed like forever since Marcos had disappeared into the crowd, going in the direction of the man that had done wrong in the eyes of many and especially Marcos. With his rapier pointed into the back of the other captain, he directed the man in from which both had just been. Both men were a sight...tell-tale signs of a scuffle had happened was more than evident from the torn clothes and the scratches and scrapes on each man's face. Marcos was smiling of course where as the other was not in such a joyous mood. "Hola senoritas... I come bearing a gift for Senorita Rosalind." He said as he pushed the man forward a bit more by his collar while the other hand continued to press the rapier's blade tip into his back. "I am thinking he has something he wishes to say. Is this not right mi amigo?" He asked with another jerk and harder press of the blade before the captain grunted with discomfort and nodded in agreement as Marcos' eyes looked back to the women.
Rosalind: "Well, with demands like those, no wonder." Rosalind smiled. "It's difficult to find fabric for a princess still prone to grass stains." She stood up upon seeing Marcos and the Scottish merchant captain. Thankfully, their argument earlier was but a distant memory for those passing by, and they earned no more than the casually interested glances of new arrivals. She studied the Scot's face. Marcos had not been as kind to him as the Scot had been to her. Rosalind's bruises were easily hidden beneath her dress. Sheer obstinacy on her part made them nearly painless. She glanced up at Marcos. "Thank you -- I mean, I do not know how to thank you for this, but you have my sincerest gratitude." The merchant captain looked unamused at Rosalind's speech, but with the blade poking his back, made no comment until he was told to speak. When he did, Rosalind listened very carefully, then thought hard about her response. She was used to doling out justice as the Lady Inveryne, just as she was used to giving mercy to those who deserved it. The man had been following the orders of his lord, and Rosalind could not be too severe with him. "He apologized. I cannot demand more than that from him."
Chantal: "Indeed." Laughing softly, sapphire eyes moving from two children racing around the feet of a woman, she grinned,"Synnovea, my daughter, is a Lady except when her brother antagonizes her. Do you have any children?" It was a perfectly natural question to ask, in her mind. Noting that Owena had perked up, even dusted off her vest, Chantal smirked,"I would say that Captain de la Costa is making a return..." And sure enough, there was the man. A polite nod of head was given,"I am glad to see you return safely, Captain."
Marcos: Marcos was worried very little how people gawked and stared at he and the Scotsman as they moved through the street until they reached their destination. Marcos went as far as winking to a few of those that passed them by in a humored way. To him this was all just a game, the game of control. Who had it over whom, how, and for how long.. all for which Marcos was mastering now. Once the man apologized, he swiftly turned him to face him. Dark intense eyes narrowed and out of no where did a fist of fury come, making contact with the Scotsman's chin. As the Scotsman was thrown off balance, the Spaniards rapier was lifted and lowered with a quick swipe, slicing off all four digits of the Scotsman's left hand. "That senor is so you do not forget to never strike at a woman." Marcos moved quickly behind the Scotsman as he was bent over and boot met rear end, sending the man down into the earth. "A message for your Lord as well... tell him he will soon be dealt with as well." The rapier was cleaned off then with a cloth tucked under his cape and sheathed while the Scotsman captain scrambled to his feet and moved off. The Spaniard then returned his attention to the women before an arm was lifted and his sleeved was used to wipe away the moisture from his brow. "Por favor Senoritas... I am sorry this day has not been bien for you... hopefully now it will be."
Rosalind: "No. No children," Rosalind said with a light shrug and a half smile. "You are lucky, Chantal. Three." She laughed a bit at the description of the children. "I had no brothers, but I imagine I would forget my manners, too, in such circumstances." It was an odd thing to discuss while de la Costa took care of the merchant captain, but make no mistake -- Rosalind forced herself to watch the entire thing. Though it was brutal, it was the justice she had asked for. She curtseyed deeply to the Spanish captain. "It is much better now. I wish I knew what to say to such kindness." As Rosalind watched, the boy the captain had sent after her dragged the captain to his feet and pulled him toward the ferrier. They left without a word -- just grunts of exertion, and a half-completed curse from Angus. She hoped the boy found a better man to serve, and soon, for his sake. Then she turned back to the captain. "Are you unhurt?"
Chantal: Oddly enough, none of what was being done bothered Chantal in the least. Briefly her sapphire gaze would flicker to the scots captain who was being beaten by Captain de la Costa. Yet, it was as though the woman watched a simple conversation. Worse had been seen by her, honestly. "Synnovea has two brothers. The one is quite young and as yet not much of an aggravation." The fact that she was lucky wasn't disputed. The children were a blessing. Smiling at Captain de la Costa, she murmured,"Such a gentleman to aid a lady so."
Marcos: " I am bueno.. only scratches.. they are nada. So por favor, do not worry yourselves." He said as he began to readjust and situate his clothing the best he could for a not so rough appearance. Dark eyes moved in the direction of those that fled, making sure they took their leave. Eyes would narrow a last time as he gruffly huffed in an exhale before looking back to Rosalind and Chantal. "I do what I think mi madre would be proud of. I know she would not be muy feliz with me if I did not at least try to right some wrongs when given the opportunity...si?" He said with a small grin as he adjusted the last of his slightly tattered clothing. "Well, if you will excuse me Senoritas.. I must be on mi way. I hope the next time we met, it is on better terms." He added with a flash of his charming smile. "Buenos Tardes Y Adios..." The Spaniard said as he dipped his head to the women and began to move off. There was one other person to deal with before he could say the score was settled on behalf of Rosalind. Soon, the Spanish Captain was just another face among the crowd and he disappeared entirely.
Rosalind: She smiled. "Oh, Captain, I would very much like to have met your mother." She would have, too. There might be some secrets worth gleaning if it produced a man as honorable as de la Costa. They would be useful to know, some day. She canted her head, studying him as he walked away. "He certainly is chipper for a man on a mission." The expression vanished and soon Rosalind's concentration was back upon Chantal. "I certainly have reason to take you to that stall, Chantal. I owe the man new clothes, at the very least." She pulled her shawl around her shoulders and secured it again with the heavy brooch she'd purchased with her own limited funds.
Chantal: "Take care and be safe, Captain de la Costa." As the man left, Chantal looked over at Rosalind. Brow was raised, humor in sapphire eyes,"He is indeed. That one is an interesting man." Making a mental note to encounter him again, if only to sate the piqued curiosity, she smiled. "Oh, then shall we head in that direction? Owena will keep an eye on us to make sure none accost us."
Rosalind: "Definitely." She needed to get her mind off this business as quickly as possible. No doubt it would rear it's ugly head again soon, but until then, was it unreasonable to ask for a few hours of delusion? She shook her head in wonder. "Of course, that would be wonderful." They headed in the direction of the fabric seller, and if the day's events were not completely erased from her mind within a few minutes, they were certainly far from her new priorities.