"Do you mean to continue growling in the general direction of your wife for the entire evening?" Henry asked as he joined Charles in a less populated corner of the room. Charles barely spared him a glance before turning his attention back to Sarah, who had apparently set up court in his Drawing Room. The young people were flocked to her, especially a few of the young men, Mr. Nicholas Young was the one Charles most wanted to strangle at the moment.

"She shouldn't caught pneumonia if she planned to flirt all hours of the evening," Charles growled at his best friend, not caring that Henry smirked at him in response. Mr. Young was sitting very close to her on the settee, and seemed to be saying something only Sarah could hear.

"He's dandy, Charles," Henry explained, but there was an unusual terseness in his voice that caught his friend's attention, "It's what the ladies like in a gentleman nowadays... poetic and insufferable."

Charles was drawn from his own frustration momentarily to attend Henry's uncharacteristic loathing. At least the character Henry had assumed since their arrival on shore eighteen months ago. Since touching land Henry had been inexplicably delighted and amused with every instant of life, rarely did Charles detect what Henry was thinking unless his friend expressly chose to share with him. It was Henry's facade, just as Charles knew he was known to cower back into his role as a commander when faced with delicate situations, things... women. Which brought his thoughts back around to the angelic, golden haired darling that was his in name, but entirely out of his reach.

"Perhaps we should take up such talents," Charles mused to Henry, hoping to revive his companions shield of merriment. But as he followed Henry's gaze, his eyes landed on Amelia who was laughing and waving a fan at one of Leticia's brothers.

"It is not in my nature," Henry said in a low, angry tone, "To be poetic and romantic and anything she'd truly want in a husband."

"She?" Charles queried, but Henry ignored him, "I cannot allow you to devalue yourself so," Charles smirked, "You are exceptionally insufferable."

Henry could not help but laugh then, and Charles was glad to have restored his friend from whatever darkness was seemingly always below the surface.

"They make a pair, do they not?" Henry commented after a moment, and Charles nodded his agreement as they watched Amelia thread her arm through Sarah's and pull away from the hub to walk alone together.

"They used to be just like that," Charles stated, an nostalgia slipping into his voice, "Always tramping everywhere together."

"I remember it," Henry acknowledged with a twist of his mouth, "They were tramping after us."

"How things have changed," Charles said with a tired sigh, sending Henry into another fit of laughter.

"Are you suggesting we resort to pulling their braids and running away in order to garner their attentions?"

"You are speaking with a desperate man, Henry," Charles admitted jovially, he was remembering the afternoon he'd shared with Sarah, his desperation only growing worse.

"And you, a foolish one," added Henry.