"Miss Summers?" There's a hint of potential disappointment in his voice. He'd admired the woman from a distance but -- ah, well. Spoken for. And spoken for quite highly, in the end. The Captain was a bit beyond smitten. So smitten that Sharpe could only really remember his high praises for the barmaid instead of any incidental chatter about her other job.

"That teeny thing? I..." Of course, this lady didn't look much more formidable in her own right. And it wasn't as though he didn't have his own fill of experiences with dangerous women.

Sharpe hemmed and hawed and idled and finally sat next to her. "Tell us what happened, then."