Having Capt. John move to stand behind her with hands on her bare shoulders, re-established their developing relationship but the hussy was relentless.  Da sat sipping wine and enjoying the unfolding events, curious to see if Rosy’s infamous temper or his teachings on warfare would win the internal battle.  In matters of the heart, she saw no flexibility in the rules, either you respect given boundaries, or die.  Gently moving her chair back so she could gracefully stand and give Capt. Angelique the impression nothing was going to happen, Rosy immediately went into action.  She pushed the woman away from Capt. John, grabbed her arm and twisted, pinning it painfully behind her back. In the same movement, drawing a wicked blade, strapped to a garter on her thigh, giving Capt. John a healthy view of shapely leg and lacey underthings.  Blade against the offending woman’s throat, and arm close to breaking, Rosy looked at The Morgan.  “Her life is in your hands.”  Making the woman scream in pain by twisting her arm a wee bit.  “Get this through your thick head, John is mine.”  She growled in Capt. Angelique’s ear, making Capt. John smile.  It was the first time she’d used his name informally and he liked it.  “You come near him again, rubbing anything against him, and I’ll feed you to the fishes.”<br/><br/>“Rosy, the woman is a guest in my house,” The Morgan reminded her.  Rosy nodded in agreement, “Yes, but everyone knows John and I have made our intentions known.”  She argued.  “He said as much just now and she still wouldn’t back down.  I say she’s overstepped her welcome and I have to right to protect my own.”  Everyone in the room was tense, what was The Morgan to do?  Capt. Angelique was a guest who did exactly what Rosy said.  How much clearer could Capt. John be than moving away to stand behind Rosy, hands on her shoulders? The Morgan had a situation on his hands, a very sticky situation. Everyone waited with bated breath.