Abigail was standing at the foot of Captain Gibbons’s bed, the candlelight shining through her gauzy shift, showing the tantalizing outline of her lithe, curvy body. He held his breath as she sauntered towards him, finger pressed to her lips; he fought the urge to bolt out of bed, embrace her, and devour her with kisses. The corner of her mouth was upturned in a seductive half smile. Her silken, wavy hair glowed amber in the soft candlelight. She leaned over him, her hair tickling his face, neck, and chest, causing him to draw in a quick, shuddering breath. Abigail slowly reached out her hand, lightly drumming all over his body with her fingers. A rather odd thing to do, he thought; he wasn’t quite sure how to react with this…unexpected turn of effort. Ow! She pinched his big toe hard enough to draw blood.

He abruptly sat up—his room was heavy dark, save the purple velvet pre-dawn sky through the window. He was alone. It was a dream…but, he still felt something touching…

Henry bolted out of bed with a panicked yelp, squinting into the dark for the erstwhile muse of his fantasy turned nightmare. The skitter of small claws across his feet, induced another alarmed squalk as he frantically felt for his candlestick and flint to search for the creature loose in his room.

“Captain? Captain are you alright?” Abigail queried from the other side of the door. “What’s amiss?”

“Please! Bring light! There is a wild beast in my chamber!” He knocked his papers to the floor as he groped blindly for the flint. The rank smell of animal musk piqued his disgust. He kicked the chamber pot with a disconcerting slosh as he sprung upon the bed.

Abigail cautiously opened the door, candelstick in hand, Grace and Betsey close behind with a broom, frying pan, and basket to apprehend—or obliterate—the intruder. Grace stifled a giggle at the ridiculous scene.

“Where is it?” asked Abigail. “And…what is it?”

“If I knew the answer to either of those questions, madam, I would not be standing upon the bed!”

“All right, now, don’t get yer breeches in a bunch,” said Grace, reproachfully. “‘Cept you ain’t wearing breeches, now, are ye?” Grace unsuccessfully to stifled another snigger as Captain Gibbons, wearing only his night shirt, flushed dark red.

“Charles, get down on the floor and see if you can spot the, um, beast under the furniture. Captain, you take that corner with the wash basin. Grace, you shoo it out with the broom. I shall cover the area of the desk and chair. Betsey, you be ready to capture it.”

Whatever it was proved to be a worthy adversary of seek-and-find; those items the creature didn’t up-end, its captors managed to topple. By the time Betsey managed to clap it under the basket, the room looked as though a hurricane had swept through. The ridiculousness of the whole situation caused them all to grin and snort with laughter. The trapped assailant voiced his displeasure with angry, high pitched growls and rustling about.

“What is it?” queried Captain Gibbons, dabbing at the bite marks on his big toe with the tail of his shirt.

“I…I think I know,” Charles interjected, meekly. “’Tis a weasel. I thought it could live in my…”

“Charles…you wicked boy! Take this wild animal outside this instant! If it bites you, you deserve it!

“Oh, Captain Gibbons, my sincerest apologies. Here, let us tidy up,” said Abigail as they endeavored to set everything to rights. Captain Gibbons stepped into the hallway to discreetly don his breeches. When he came back, Abigail was neatly stacking his correspondence back upon the desk.

“No! Miss Campbell, those are…” Henry blurted out, louder than he meant, as he lunged to wrest the stack of foolscap. “I mean…forgive me, madam, do not trouble yourself with those. Thank you for, um, coming to my rescue.” Rescue? Henry, you are a damned coward and reckless fool! he chided, inwardly.

“Captain, I am profoundly sorry for the trouble we have caused you…”

“Please think nothing of it. No harm done. Do not be hard on the boy; I was not much better at his age.”

“Very well, then. Good night.”

“How’d I do, Abbie?” whispered Charles.

“Very well, my love. Most convincing. Remember: it is our secret.”