handwritten journal entry, the first of may -
The situation with Miss Kate, it seems, has been resolved. I took the liberty of instructing Harkness to attend to her. I understand entirely that it was not my place to meddle in her affairs, and she did not appreciate the delicate sentiment and care with which I handled the situation, but something needed to be done immediately and I fear that I am the only individual qualified for such action as necessity requires. When Harkness did, finally, attend to Miss Kate, there was avoidance of the subject on her part followed by a ridiculous display of emotion, at which point I took the only natural and acceptable course of action in leaving.
I did not return until much later. Miss Kate was asleep and I was afforded an opportunity to speak with Mr. Harkness alone and unperturbed by the delicacies of female emotion. At which point I had a very serious conversation with him regarding the consequences a man faces for his heedless actions and what the only honourable solution at that juncture was. Suffice to say, I was surprised to find that he had beaten my moral opinion to the punch, as they say, and asked for Miss Kate's hand in marriage. (For the record, I would have normally found such a claim from a man like Harkness to be an entire untruth, were it not for the actual sincerity I detected in his voice.) However, it seems that Miss Kate is as much a modern woman as I have suspected, for she turned his offer down. He appeared more distraught than anything, which I find surprising given his personality and predisposition to wanton debauchery, which one would assume would make him ill-suited for the institution of marriage.
This was all quite some days ago and I only now choose to pen the delicacies of the situation. Mostly, I fear, because I cannot bear the strain of Harkness' continual presence here for a good many reasons I cannot and will not detail. Suffice to say, it leaves my senses shaken in a way I cannot describe, aching for days long since past to which I fear I can never return. It would be quite one thing to find in Jack companionable acknowledgement of long past deeds, of wars now centuries old, and nothing more, but his countenance is much changed from then and I am at a loss. Captain, indeed! That man is damnable in his charisma. I should love nothing more than to hate him, forget all past connexion, and regard him as nothing more than a casual acquaintance, the ill-suited gentleman who burdened my good friend with an illegitimate child.
Now it seems in lieu of marriage they intend to live together in sin and the damnable man in question has extended to me an invitation for the same, not without a certain level of suggestion. 'Damn you to hell, sir' was my predictable response to such a ludicrous idea and all implications attached.
I will not deny that he raised a very good question in the face of my refusal, however. I have been quite relied on Miss Kate's generosity these past few months, a debt in which I will be forever, and am not of sound financial or modernised footing to brave the world, especially Miss Kate's, entirely alone. I rue that I am forced to admit to such a weakness, but there it is. Plain, honest, as truthful as a man can be. This is a brave new world for which I am as ill-suited as Harkness would seem to be for proper behaviour and conduct. Harkness' offer, despite whatever implications were made, came with arrangements for financial security along the vein that I am quite predisposed to accept: playing cards.
However, I am unsure what manner of city Las Vegas is, it sounds not unlike a Spaniard colonial endeavour, or how he intends we garner financial security in two nights within said city, but the proposal is, to borrow the words he so eloquently used, an offer I cannot readily refuse.