Sharpe propped his elbows on the table's surface. It was a difficult favour to ask; he didn't like putting himself at such a clear disadvantage. Last night, Captain Sparrow had put the book before him and bid him to read what he could only stumble clumsily through and even then he would have preferred the chance to read aloud. But he didn't dare try it on his first night.

Now? Now he had to take a chance on someone. Molly, at least, didn't seem too fussed with the request. So he steepled his fingers against the bridge of his nose and listened.

As Molly continued to read, he finally registered her abandoned tea and so waited for the next best opportunity to interrupt her. A quiet little clearing of his throat.

"Care for a fresh'un, lass?" He asked gently. "This one's gone cold."

Sharpe touched her mug's handle with powder-burnt fingers.