IRELAND, AUTUMN 1867
Bowing his head before the rain, Jack reined in his steed outside Charles Fort. Situated outside Kinsale, south of Cork, Charles Fort was a 17th-century Trace Italienne star-shaped fortress with cannon grinning from the walls and sentries glowering at the gate. Water glinted on three sides, as the sea surged around the base of low cliffs.
“So this is to be my home for the foreseeable future,” Jack murmured to himself. Mary had decided to stay with David, saying she would bring him over later. Jack had not needed to sense her anger – Mary was not a woman to hide her emotions. Maybe you chose well, Mary. After India, I don"t wish to involve you in another mutiny.
“Captain Jack Windrush,” Jack announced himself to the sentries. “Of the 113th Foot.”
Both sentries were
