When Elizabeth's eyes slid to the bottle, he held the fuller one out to her, the rum sloshing inside the glass.
Then he stepped out of the doorway, squishing past Elizabeth with the raise of an eyebrow, both eyes focusing downward, to her face, as he brushed against her.
"Mmmm."
Jack uncorked the bottle, bringing it to his lips and stopping just short of his mouth.
"How's my father?"
He took a drink, acting as though the question wasn't even asked. If the Bretheren Court had met, Elizabeth had met his father. That was almost too hard to take, right there.