'I'm sure I'll live Miss Lynch' he joked, 'I'm made of sterner stuff than that. ' he said, his voice a little rasping as the powdery pigment seemed to adhere to every drop of moisture in his mouth and nose as soon as he drew breath. 'Although a spot of tea might be in order' he had to admit that the colour in her hair, and on her clothing, although not natural were becoming, especially when coupled with the young lady's energy and vitality. He was an outgoing man himself, and finding someone who could match him in silliness and good humour was a rarity. Many ladies of their particular class where either so over awed with his position or tarred him with the brush that Fitz Prewett had dipped, as the man who had taken up the mantle of the Cannons captain. 'Would you care to join me for tea Miss Lynch? I will let you pour as penance for your ghastly attack!' he joked.

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