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               When they returned to the foyer, Jack and Emilia found their two young guests, chatting softly, while staring intently into each other's eyes.

               "Ah, ain't they cute?" Jack asked, smiling blissfully.  Just because his love life was on long-term hold, didn't mean that everyone else had to suffer.

               Emilia had to agree despite herself.  Charles and Margeret did seem quite taken with each other, and had even overcome some of their shyness, by the look of it.  It was almost a shame to disturb them.

               "Margeret, I brought that book you requested, 'The Birdwatcher's Companion To Malasian Aviary'.  I hope you enjoy it," Emilia stated, interupting the enamoured young people.

               "Thank you, Mrs. Rothschild.  You're very kind.  I guess I should be going.  My Mother won't be expecting me home so soon, but..."  Margeret tapered off, not wanting to hurt her host's feelings.

               "Oh don't worry about it.  It was lovely having you here," Emilia returned wholeheartedly.

               "Hey Darwin!  I have an idea.   Why don't you walk Miss Bellsot back to the mission?  Em and I have plans to go over, before I go back to the dock to speak with your Captain, and I really don't trust half the people on this island.  I wouldn't want anything to happen to her on the way home," Jack encouraged the young man, whose eyes were glued to Margeret.

               "Sure, Mr. Stiles.  Sure," Darwin stated, offering his arm to Margeret Bellsot, who tentitively looped her own through his.  After an awkward moment of silence, the two turned, and started walking away.

               Jack and Emilia waved goodbye to the oblivious young couple, before closing the door, and turning back towards the parlor.

               "Now, while you were off playing Cupid, I received a responce from my attorney.  You just have to sign the papers he sent, and we can redirect our attention to more aesthetic matters, food, music, attire.  Do you have any special preferences, Jack?"  Emilia asked, knowing full well that men never paid any mind to such things, and Jack was, if nothing else, a man.

               "You know, you're right!  I mean, I put together Napoleon's bacheolor party in one day, but this, this is MY party!   I have less than two weeks to make it an event this island will talk about for centuries to come!  Needless to say, I'm gonna need some of your ships.  How many strippers do you think we can import from all the different islands in this region?" Jack asked, his mind working out complex computations, as he spoke.

               "Jack!  Would you be serious for once?!" Emilia demanded, agitated by her partner's attitude.

               "Hey, I never thought I'd ever get married, which meant I never thought I'd have a bacheolor party.  And you're not the only one with an image to uphold, Sister.  This party has to be..."

               "An exercise in drunken, lawless, immorality," Emilia offered, stiffening at the distasefullness of the idea.

               "Couldn't have said it better myself!  You know, I really should start making a list!" Jack rebutted, grabbing a sheet of paper and a quill, as he planted himself behind his partner's writing desk.

               Realizing she would get no help in this matter, Emilia spitefully grabbed the ink bottle off her desk, and left the parlor, not giving Jack a chance to protest.  She had her own, far more important, list to make.  Let Jack get his own damn ink!
 

            The next day brought with it a deceptively calm morning.  While they received several dark stares and a few off color comments, no one in the marketplace had chased them away.    They had gone out together in order to put forth a united front, and to begin the process of being seen 'in love' together in pubic.  Things were going well, and holding hands was beginning to feel less awkward, when life turned them back on their ears with an anxious  Madeline Verinette dashing up to them.  Yeserday she'd snubbed Emilia, when they'd passed on the road.  Today she seemed more than happy to speak to them.

             "Emilia!  Jack!  Congradulations!  I just heard from Madam Hasden!  When is the wedding?" Madam Verinnette inquired eagerly shaking Jack's hand before grabbing Emilia into an brief hug.

             "Madeline, How did you, or rather, Edna, find..."

             "Find out about the wedding?  My dear, it's all anybody of any name is talking about!  You two have pulled off the coupe of the year!  So, when's the big day?" Madeline nearly cooed with excitement.   She lived for being at the head of the island's grapevine, and she wasn't about to miss being the first to speak with the newly engaged couple. Not having started the news had been bad enough.

             "Two weeks, actually two weeks from yesterday.  We're having a small, ship board, ceremony onboard the H.M.S.  Beagal," Jack informed, throughing his arm around Emilia's shoulder and earning a major glare of annoyance from his beautiful partner.  Jack didn't mind in the slightest.  In fact, it was all part of his greater plan.  Things were going perfectly, from his perspective.

             "Oh, that sounds so romantic!   Although, I'm sure our Dear Governor will be somewhat disappointed at not being able to perform the service himself.  That man has such a gift for oratory!" Madeline replied, bringing up her true subject of interest in the matter.  Her husband was an exporter and while he was quite sucessfull, both he and his wife recognized how their taxes and tarriffs were much higher than that of Madam Rothschild.  In short, she and her husband were not the close friends and oft companions of Governor Croque that Madam Rothschild and her foppish fiance', Jack Stiles were, and so their expenses were almost backbreaking.  It was Nepotism, plain and simple, but then again, so was the Governor's posting on Pulau Pulau.

             "Don't worry about old Croquie, I plan on making him my best man!" Jack announced with a light hearted chuckle.

             Madeline smiled back brightly, although she couldn't help but wonder just what Emilia was doing, marrying this borish, low class, idiot, when it was widely known she could have any man on this island and beyond, even with the accusations that had recently been thrown her way.  She was gorgeous and wealthy.   Common sense would dictate that she excuse her attache', put him on the next boat back to America, and marry well enough to quell this scandel, but Emilia chose to remarry beneath herself.  Although, it centainly wasn't the first time her actions confused Madeline.  The woman's entire life seemed at odds with her intellect.  Madeline's supposed friendship with Emilia had so far failed to get her closer to the Governor; as the younger woman kept Madeline at a personal distance.   Emilia was friendly enough, but she always declined invitations to picnic together or to attend the annual balls the Verinnettes threw.  Madeline had yet to figure out why Emilia Rothschild chose to elude her.  In her current status, Emilia could be running the island's grapevine and leading the societal order of Pulau Pulau instead of Madeline, if she meerly chose to apply herself to the task.  She often did things that seemed to counter Madelines assumptions of intelligence and social savy, such as choosing  to spend so much time among the lower classes or making such an unequal and ill thought out match for herself, as the one she was currently planning.  Something was a bit off when it came to Emilia Rothschild.  Still, perhaps Madeline could use this particular turn of events to her advantage.

             "You two must let me and Jean host an engagement party for the two of you!  We insist!" Madeline demanded, grabbing Emilia's hands up in her own.

             "Madeline, while that's very sweet of you, really..."

             "Oh no you don't!  I won't hear of your refusing Emilia Rothschild!  Jean and I want to do this for you two, and you can't break our hearts!  You never show up to our Balls!  We never lunch together, privately!  We're beginning to think you don't want to spend time with us!  Now, that is that!  Tomorrow at noon, we shall meet in the square, have lunch, just the four of us, and plan your engagement party!  This is going to be so much Fun!!!" Madeline gushed girlishly, again hugging Emilia quickly, before darting off into the marketplace, waving back as she went.

             Watching Madeline Verinnette go, Emilia sighed.  Out of the frying pan and into the fire.  And she knew exactly who to blame.

             "Jack Stiles, what the bloody hell was that!  I thought we agreed to keep this all as low key as possible, to keep from having to associate with the Bellsots, and entangel ourselves in a bigger mess than before!  Now we're having an engagement party!" Emilia railed at her smug looking partner.

             "I realized last night that keeping a wedding secret, with the possible exception of a quickie in Vegas, would be impossible.  This is a very small island, Em!  Word travels fast, as we just saw!  We're better off putting on the 'we're too in love, and way too busy planning our dream wedding, to pay attention to anything or anyone else' image in order to sidestep the Marauding Missionaries!  Think about it; Verinnette throws the most elaborate parties, and Madam Elitist only invites those she deems 'acceptable'.  The Missionaries are poor and mostly American.  There is no way she'd let that breed of vermin into one of her swarettes!  She'd spend an afternoon singing  bawdy sea chanties at 'The Drunken Pig', before she'd ever put them on her guest list!  Furthermore, she'll keep us both busy with party and wedding plans, as to be too surrounded by this island's social climbing butterflies for the Bellsots or any of their group to get near us!   Not to mention, it's all on her tab!  Trust me Em, this is definately a plus for us!" Jack explained to his still slightly skeptical partner.

             "Alright then, Jack.  For now, I'll go along with you on this one, but if I have to spend every waking hour over the next two weeks with a bunch of simple minded, constantly twittering about nothing, Socialites, so will you!  I want you right by my side, everywhere we go!" Emilia informed sadistically, pleased at the look of weariness on Jack's face.  She knew Jack had assumed that other than their planning session at lunch tomorrow, the actual party, and a fitting or two for his wedding clothes, he'd be home free in the coming days, while she ran around like a chicken with its head cut off for a wedding her heart wasn't truly even in.  Not if Emilia Rothschild had anything to say about it.  They were a team.  If she had to take a roadtrip through hell, he was going to be right along side of her, and Em knew from previous experience, planning an upscale wedding made hell look like a vacation.   Poor Jack.  She could almost feel sorry for him, almost!