Antonia whirled around at the sound of that voice, her face lighting with a wide and genuine smile for the helmsman, suddenly sure she had never been so happy to know Jax was close by. The rogue did not break character, the facade of Antoinette Greene firmly in place - and she was content that he did not do so for her, playing along as he had from the very first.

She curtsied low to her "guest," returning his bow with a deft display of grace. The rogue took in the clothing Jax wore, recognizing its origins of course - not that she would ever say a word - 

- Though Antonia's mind was quite made up that Thomas, so tall and commanding a figure, wore these clothes [i]far[/i] better than his helmsman.

And undergarments, it seemed. Yes, most certainly, undergarments... 

"Well, in all fairness? We both know it was that devilish rascal, my Oncle Nathaniel, who secured your place here at this evening's festivities," she replied, all trace of the rogue's Cajun patois erased, replaced by the silken Parisian accent of the gentlewoman Antoinette. "But it is [i]truly[/i] good to see you here tonight Monsieur Jax, and you certainly cut quite the dashing figure when not being nearly trampled in the streets of Port Royal." 

"And Mademoiselle Beauchamp?"

She took a step back, all the better to take in the stunning loveliness that was the First Mate this night. She took one of Nicolette's hands, as nimble as they were deadly, between both of her own, giving her finger's a friendly squeeze. "It is my pleasure to meet you, and might I say? Your ensemble is breathtaking. You are positively [i]radiant[/i] this evening." 

Antoinette released Nicolette's hand, smiling widely at the sweet little detail she found so charming. Her own fingers went first to the velvety soft crimson and ivory hothouse roses she had braided into her ebony hair, and then reached upward, as if to brush the lovely wild blooms in the golden woman's long tresses - though she truly touched neither her, nor the night blooms. "Why, even to the flowers in your hair. Such a rarity!" 

The gentlewoman turned back to the table for a moment, taking up two crystal goblets of red wine, offering one each to Monsieur Jax and Mademoiselle Beauchamp if they would. 

"And touching on matters both rare and unexpected, I have had the pleasure of meeting - and sharing a dance - with your [i]Capitaine[/i] Lightfoot already [i]ce soir.[/i]" The rogue knew there would be no need to expand on the message she received, with perfect clarity, instead adding only, "He speaks quite highly of the skills - and judgment - of you both."

Grey eyes turned toward the direction from which she'd only just come, utterly unable to make out either Thomas or the Commander beyond the voluminous skirts or over the heads of the partygoers. 

"As a matter of fact, I have only just left him, talking with my Robert. Oh -[i] pardonnez-moi,[/i] you met him only in passing, did you not Monsieur Jax? That would be [i]Commander[/i] Robert Murray." Her gazed returned to the magnificent pair before her, wearing a mild smile that deliberately did nothing to hide the flash of confusion, and perhaps a touch of concern in her eyes. 

"The officer in charge of the garrison of Fort Charles," she added meaningfully. "This is his home."