Iwalked the length of the ship, making sure everything was in order but also looking for Henry. He had become an expert at avoiding me. Even on a ship with limited space, he managed to be everywhere I was not. I knew I shouldn’t think such things, but a part of me worried it was due to the fact that I resembled the woman of his nightmares. And now, Maria and I shared more than just a likeness or a distant ancestry. We shared blood. Close blood.

And the very thought turned my guts.

I found myself trying to imagine what Henry thought of it all. Was I hanging on to a doomed relationship? Would Henry eventually leave me in order to distance himself from everything that reminded him of her? My hand lovingly rubbed across my belly, silently cooing to the baby inside. Then another horrible thought flashed through my mind and my stomach rolled over. I’d been dreaming of the baby coming out with a full head of blonde curls and dark brown eyes.

But what if it looked like me?

What if our child joined me in the Cobham traits of dark curls and tanned skin? What if he or she added to the torment that Henry faced every day when he looked at me? The very thought of the man I loved rejecting our child made me want to vomit.

My lungs gasped for air as I fought back tears and sprinted across the deck toward my quarters. I barged through the door and slammed it closed behind me before my back slid down the wall where I pooled on the floor.

“Jesus, Dianna!” Henry exclaimed and ran to me.

Startled by his presence, I yelped and scrambled to wipe away my tears. “Oh, I didn’t know you were in here.”

“You needn’t be sorry,” he told me sternly and bent down to scoop me up off the floor. I couldn’t look him in the face as his hands wiped at mine. “Why are you crying? Is the baby alright?”

I sniffled at the wetness in my nose. “Yes, the baby is fine.”

“Then what is it?”

I shook my head, fighting with the words. Too many words. Too many questions running through my mind. “Henry,” I began and wiped my leaky nose with the back of my hand. “D-do you still… love me?”

Aghast, he pulled back. “Heavens, Dianna, why would you ask such a thing?”

“Let me rephrase,” I told him and finally met his eyes. “Can you still love me?”

His brow furrowed in confusion and his mouth gaped, free of sound.

“You won’t make love to me anymore,” I went on. “You won’t open up or let me help you.”

Henry let his hands fall to my arms and grabbed them tightly as he pulled me toward him, crushing my body against his in a desperate hold. “You are my very reason for living. Everything I am ends with you.”

He so rarely embraced me anymore and I let myself melt into him, nestling my face in his broad chest. “I just… I know you’re going through something, I know you’re dealing with your demons and I just… I worry about how much I look like one of them.”

I felt his chest rise and fall with a deep breath as he took in my words. I felt bad for doing it, but it needed to be said. How could we possibly go on if the woman he loved looked like the woman he hated? Henry’s chin rested on the crown of my head and he held me so tightly as if it were the only thing holding him together.

“Maria is a monster, Dianna. A plague cast upon the earth. She’s ugly inside and mirrors that monstrosity on the outside. I could never view her as beautiful in any way.” His words hurt me, cutting deep into my insecurities and multiplying them. “You may share her blood, but that is all.”

Surprised at his turn of tone, I shifted my head and tilted my face upwards. Henry pulled away enough to peer down and meet my gaze. “To me, no one in the world could match your beauty, your strength. It radiates from you like some sort of magic. A spell you’ve cast over me.” His warm lips pressed against my forehead. “You’re nothing short of–” he shook his head and sighed, “I’m not sure. Some sort of being I’m certainly not worthy of.”

I grabbed his face in my hands and held it tight. “But you are,” I insisted. “Don’t you see that? You deserve more than the life you’ve been given. And I want to spend the rest of mine making you happy. I came back for that. For us.” I felt the sobbing erupt from his chest and he nestled his face to my cheek. His walls were thinning, and I took the opportunity to break through. “We can be happy together, Henry. You just have to let me help you. You’d do the same for me, right?”

The man’s arms wrapped around my body like an anxious vice as his tear stained lips found mine. I took him in, every touch, every scent. Whatever I could get.

“I would lay my life down for you if it meant you’d never know pain or sorrow again,” he told me in a raspy whisper.

I reached around and grabbed his hands, bringing them together with mine at my chest. Just above my heart. “Your pain is my pain.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” Henry replied as he blinked away the tears. “It shall be over soon. I promise.”

I swallowed hard. “Over… how?”

“My demons will be put to rest. I swear to it. Whatever this is, this… darkness that haunts me at night, I’ll overcome it. I’ll be the man you need me to be. In time.”

“But you don’t have to wait,” I told him. “You don’t have to put anything to rest.” His guilty eyes shot to mine and I hoped he knew that I’d caught on to his plan to kill my sister. “There’s another way.”

“How?”

“Just open up to me. Talk. Rid yourself of the of the darkness through words and allow yourself to heal. Let me share your pain.”

Henry shook his head and backed away. “Jesus Christ, Dianna, I cannot burden you like that.”

I could feel my face flush with anger. Whether from the pregnancy hormones or just at his stubbornness, I had no idea. But I used it.

“I’m burdened, regardless, Henry!” I stalked after him as he made his way to the bed. “I deal with your pain from the outside every single day. I can see it through the window, but you won’t open the door and let me in. I can help. I promise.” He turned to face me, an incredulous look on his face and I sighed heavily. “You just have to let me. It’s as easy as that.”

“I’m afraid–” He stopped short and turned away from me again, hiding his face in shame. I watched as the broad muscles of his back heaved with heavy breaths and I stepped closer to gently run my hand over it.

“Afraid of what?” I asked.

He remained silent, but I could sense that I still had him, he was still vulnerable, and I waited it out. I continued to lovingly massage his back and pressed my body against him, willing my warmth to soften his fears. Finally, he straightened and turned to face me.

“I fear what you may think of me once you know,” he spoke, his voice hoarse from fighting back tears.

“Know what?” I asked. “Henry, there’s nothing you could tell me that would change the way I feel about you.

“You say that now.”

“I’ll always say it.” Carefully, I stepped closer to the man, took his hand and held it to my face. “It doesn’t have to be this instant. You can talk about it when you’re ready. At your own pace. For now,” I leaned in and closed the short space between us and pressed my chest to his before reaching up on my toes to kiss his lips, twirling my fingers in his tousled blonde hair, “Just love me.”

The broken man heaved a breath of defeat and I even caught the glimpse of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. “That,” he spoke with the deep growl I loved and missed so much, “I can do.”

I returned his grin and pulled at the drawstring of my shift, allowing the collar to loosen and hang low around my shoulders. “Then show me.”

Trembling, Henry’s mouth came back to mine and I felt him let go of the stress held within his bones. His strong arms loosened up, able hands caressed body, and I felt my center warm from the excitement. We quickly became a twisted mess of desperation and passion, clawing at one another, removing the layers of our clothes until there was nothing more than two naked beings standing before one another in a heap of linens and leather.

“God, I love you so much,” Henry told me as he stood and gazed at my nakedness. A few seconds seemed to be all he could stand. Massive hands grabbed at my thighs and hoisted me up where I eagerly wrapped my legs around his waist. He leaned back and sat on the bed, cradling me in his embrace.

I couldn’t stop grinning. Finally, I was getting through. Bit by bit, I would get my Henry back. I threw my head back in ecstasy as his lips and scruffy face brushed across the naked skin of my breasts, sending goosebumps scouring down. Yes, I would get him back.

And what better place to start?

***

“What about naming it after your mother?” Henry asked as we lay in bed and his fingers twirled mindlessly in my curls.

“Constance?” I replied, put off. “Nah, I don’t really care to continue the Cobham names, if I can help it.” My fingertips trailed along the pale skin of his chest, noting all the tiny scars left behind and admired how they glistened a pinkish silver in the sunlight. “What about your mother? What was her name?”

Henry’s face softened at the memory and he smiled. “Audrey.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” I told him. “It’s settled, then. If the baby is a girl, she’ll be Audrey.”

The glorious man in my bed leaned in and took my mouth in his, an all-encompassing kiss that left me breathless. When he pulled away, I gasped for air and shifted closer to his naked body. “And if it’s a boy?”

I shrugged, still reeling from the kiss. “Uh, what was your dad’s name?”

Henry quirked an eyebrow and grinned. “Archibald. I’m not sure I wish to inflict that on my son.”

I laughed and playfully pushed at his shoulder. “Why not? Archie. It’s cute.”

“For a boy, perhaps. But he’ll become a man one day.” His lips then pursed in thought. “What about Arthur?”

My heart skipped a beat at the name. One that I hadn’t heard in so long. “My dad?”

“Yes,” he replied. “It’s a strong name. Fit for both a boy and a man. Your father seems to be lost in your life’s story. Why not keep his memory alive?”

The sentiment touched my heart and I swallowed hard against the tightness that suddenly formed in my throat. After a moment’s thought, I nodded. “Well, then. Audrey for a girl. Arthur for a boy. I like those options.”

“I as well.”

I held his bushy face in my palm and thumbed the skin under his tired eyes. We remained there, bodies twisted together, as we held each other’s gaze and silently assured one another that everything was going to be alright. It had to be. We both knew it.

“You need a shave,” I said.

His hand reached up and rubbed his short blonde beard. “You don’t like it?”

“Actually, I do,” I told him honestly and then laughed. “Much better than Finn’s. But I know you prefer cleanly shaven.”

“That I do,” he replied. “But I quite like it. For now.”

My lips widened. “Then so do I.”

I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of the window and saw that the sun was low in the sky. It was getting late. We’d stayed in bed most of the day and suppertime crept up on us. As much as I deeply desired to remain in bed with my pirate king, I couldn’t ignore my duties much longer. Someone would come looking for us soon.

“We should probably get dressed and head out,” I suggested. “Before Finn and Gus come beating down the door.”

I shifted towards the edge of the bed, but Henry’s hands grabbed my waist and swiftly hauled me on top of him. I could feel him growing with excitement beneath me and his hips drove upwards.

“Let them,” he growled.

I pushed at his naked chest and laughed as I attempted to remove myself from atop him. But he grabbed my arm and pulled back. I knew he was just being playful, so I tried to ignore the slight force he used and the protest my shoulder made at the tug. I remained in a half on-half off position and waited for him to let go. Everything would have been fine if he’d just let go. If he just didn’t hang on for that second too long.

Henry’s face changed, shifting from happy to suddenly stunned shame and he released his grip from around my wrist. I tried to hide the way I held it to my chest as I got out of bed and reached for my clothes. But the skin stung. Should I have said something? Or would that cause him to retreat the short distance I’d help him travel on his road to recovery?

I heard him behind me, rummaging through linens and shoving on his black pants. His footsteps closed in and stopped at my side. With great willpower, I met his eyes. His sorrowful eyes. The man plunked down in my red chair and slid his fingers in between mine.

“I’m sorry,” he said, a barely audible whisper. “I-I don’t know what that was. I panicked at the thought of you leaving me. Even to get dressed.” His fingers dropped from my hand and I peered down as he leaned forward in the chair and wrung them through his long, blonde hair. “What’s wrong with me?”

I finished tightening my leather belt and tucked in my white cotton shirt before squatting down in front of Henry and bringing my forehead to his. “Nothing we can’t fix,” I promised. “There’s going to be hiccups. There’s going to be fighting and emotions flying high. What you went through, not just recently, but ever since you met,” I swallowed hard, “her… it’s going to take some time.”

Henry’s head raised up from his lap and he stared at me. He was always a hard man to read, the stone-cold expressions he often wore protected whatever thoughts ran through his mind. But in that moment, I read him like a picture book. He was scared. He was tired. And I knew the pirate was unsure whether he could overcome the darkness that haunted his dreams.

“I promise,” I told him.

His dark eyes stared at me unblinking. “At what cost?”

“Whatever it takes.”

He was still unsure, I could tell. But Henry inhaled deeply and stood, taking my hand and helping me to my own feet at his side. A long, gentle kiss was placed on my forehead and he held me tight to him. “Let’s go eat.”

He wasn’t retreating. A good sign. I held on to that thought and gave him a smile. “Yeah, let’s go eat.”

***

Supper was something that Lottie called stone soup. As I prepared my rosemary buns for the oven, she told me a story of how the dish came to be. In small villages where people sometimes struggle to feed their families, each house would be tasked to bring one item to the center of town where a giant cauldron could be found boiling over an open fire. A potato here, a carrot there. And a stone for good measure. A giant pot of soup would be made, and everyone would be fed. I smiled at the tale as I placed the buns over the oven’s fire.

“How’s the baby doing today?” Lottie asked me.

“Good,” I told her and took a seat on a wooden stool. “It’s quiet most of the time, but I’m only just out of the first trimester. I should feel some kicking in the months to come.” My friend’s brow crinkled in confusion and I realized I was using modern terms again. Something they often got annoyed with. “Uh, first trimester. The first three months of a pregnancy.”

Lottie nodded in understanding. “I sometimes forget you’re from the future, you know,” she admitted and came to sit next to me. “Then you speak such strange things and I’m quickly reminded.” Her hand patted my knee. “If I could lend you some words of caution, it would be to watch your tongue once we arrive at our destination.”

“What? Why?”

“Newfoundland is a more relaxed, smaller version of where we’re going,” she began, carefully choosing her terms. She pursed her lips in thought before proceeding. “It’s just… people scare easily. Anything new, anything different. Women have been hung for witchcraft for far less than a few words.”

My stomach dropped at the realization of what my friend was trying to tell me. “I see.”

“I just want to you be careful,” she replied. “Be safe.”

Smiling, I accepted her intent. “I will.”

Just then, the swinging kitchen door flung open and Finn barged in, sniffing the air. “When’s the grub goin’ to be ready?”

Lottie stood and went to check the giant pot of steaming soup. “Soon.” She grabbed some bowls and handed them to the giant Scotsman. “Set the tables.”

“Set the tables?” he balked and eyeballed the stack of bowls thrust into his hands. “What do I look like? A bloody servant girl?”

Lottie stood with her hands on her hips, face unwavering. “You look like someone who has two hands. And if you want any of the food I’ve been slaving all day to make, then you’ll do as I say.”

I tried to stifle a laugh as Finn and Lottie locked into a staring contest, one that he lost before it even began. I then watched as his bearded face wrinkled with a massive grin. “Aye, good thing I likes ye.”

She rolled her eyes. “Lucky me.”

Finn exited through the swinging doors and I helped Lottie hoist the giant pot of soup onto a rolling cart that Gus had made for her. I often wondered when they’d just admit their feelings for one another and get on with it. He was always silently courting her.

I remembered when he made the cart, a simple thing, really. I was roaming the decks one night, unable to sleep with Henry’s tossing and turning. He was on watch that night, but the water was calm and the sky clear. He was whittling the wheels out of scrap wood we had down in the hold.

When I asked him what he was making, he responded with a short and final reply of ‘wheels’. The next morning, Lottie woke up to homemade wheels fashioned into a trolley with a shallow wooden crate on top. Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink, but she refused to talk about it.

I watched their modest courtship from afar for too long. I felt like playing devil’s advocate today. Peering down at the wooden trolley and the steaming pot that sat in it, I said, “This thing sure is handy, hey?”

Lottie stopped to grab a handful of spoons. “Yes, it certainly makes my job easier.”

“That was nice of Gus to make it for you.” I caught a slight pause in her body and her gaze purposely avoided mine. “He really seems to like you. It’s been months. Do you not feel the same for him?”

She huffed a hot breath of air and stood with her hands on her hips. “Yes, I quite like him. There. Is that enough? Now let it be.”

She pushed on the cart, but I stood in front of it. “Why is it such a touchy subject for you? Has Gus… did he do something?”

Lottie’s face twisted in offense. “Goodness, no.”

“Then what is it? Why won’t you guys just be together?”

“I’ve tried,” she replied. “He won’t.”

Confused, I asked, “What? You mean–” I shook my head, “sorry, I thought Gus was into you.”

“He is.”

Now I was beyond confused. “Lottie, you gotta give me more information than that.”

I could sense her irritation with me, but she never said anything about it. My friend was a quiet and private person, that much I knew long ago. But I told her everything. She knew all about Henry’s dark secret and the struggle I was going through.

“Augustus is a wonderful man,” she began. “I’m quite fond of him. He’s sweet, kind, and handsome.” The hem of her apron fiddled in her fingertips. “But I…”

“What? You want more?”

“No, on the contrary,” she informed me. “It’s he who wants more from me.” Lottie’s pale cheeks flushed pink once again as she seemed to recall a memory. “I kissed him one day.”

My eyebrows raised, and I smiled. “Really? And he wanted to go further?”

“Yes, but not in the sense that you think,” she spoke uncomfortably. “Before we go any further, Augustus wishes to be married.” The last word carried with it a heavy sense of distaste.

I laughed. “God, Gus is so old-fashioned.” Then I remembered that he really wasn’t. Not for that time. “But that’s really sweet. Is that, um, not what you want?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I never gave much thought to the possibility. I’m a pirate, through and through.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be married.”

She shrugged. “I suppose not.”

“Look, just keep doing what you’re doing. You like each other, that much is obvious. Spend more time getting to know one another and if it leads to marriage, then so be it.”

“Will you and Henry ever wed?”

A hard lump formed in my throat at the mention of marrying Henry. I told myself a while ago that if he ever asked me again, I’d say yes. But he hadn’t brought it up since I returned to the past and I began to worry if it were off the table.

“Maybe,” I told my friend and forced a smile, “someday.”

Just then, someone pushed on the swinging door and it whacked me in the back.

“Christ, when are we goin’ to eat?” Finn bellowed from behind me. “We’re wastin’ away out here.”

I turned and rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’m sure you’re whittling away to nothing since lunch.”

His face scrunched into a grin. “The boys be wantin’ to play cards after we eat.” He sniffed the air and waggled his eyebrows. “And I be wantin’ them buns of yers.”

I looked at Lottie. “Wheel this out and start serving, I’ll get the buns from the oven in a few minutes.”

The two of them left and I walked over to the cooking area to grab thick towels we used to grab hot things. As I bent down to check the buns, I heard the doors swing open again.

“Sorry, Finn, they’re going to be a few more minutes,” I spoke.

“I’m not here for the baked goods,” the person replied, a deep and raspy voice that tickled my heart. I turned to find Henry, clad in his black leather outfit, blonde hair loose around his shoulders. “I’m just here to check on you.”

“Check on me?” I asked.

He came toward me slowly, carefully. I wished he didn’t feel the need to be that way. I wanted him to just take me in his arms, like the rough and tough pirate king I fell in love with. But there was something to be said about a man who didn’t trust himself.

“I just worry when you’re gone,” he told me. “When you’re not with me.”

My heart hurt at the sight of his pain and I opened my arms. “Come here.”

The relief that washed over his body was hard to ignore as he slid into my embrace. I nestled my face in his hard chest and Henry’s hands held me tightly. I relished in the moment. One free of anger and fear.

Our faces pulled away, so we could bring our foreheads together. My eyes stared at the softness of his pink lips under the blonde facial hair he now sported, and I brought my hands up to caress the velvety hairs before placing a kiss on his mouth.

“I love you, you know that, right?” I told the man.

“That I do,” he replied with a grin. “And I you. I may doubt a lot of things, but our love is not one of them.”

“Remember that thing you asked me back at that tavern?” I dared to say, swallowing hard against my nervousness. He pulled away to get a better look at my face and I could see the confusion on his. “The, uh, the big question? Before I told you about my time travelling secret?”

Henry’s face washed with realization and he nodded. “Yes, I recall asking you to be my wife.”

“Is that… is that still on the table?”

To my surprise, Henry let out a heavy laugh. It was a sound I hadn’t heard come from his body in months and it startled a yelp from me.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes crinkling with the wide smile that’d found its way to his face. “I adore you when you’re nervous.”

I pushed at his chest and turned to check on the buns again. They were ready, so I grabbed the towels and pulled the tray from the cast iron oven. “I’m not nervous,” I began, “just curious.”

I dumped the buns onto a wooden board as Henry’s hands slipped around my hips from behind. My skin scoured with goosebumps as his scruffy face nuzzled my ear. “Are you asking me to marry you, Time Traveller?”

I dropped the towels and spun in his arms. Grinning wildly, I replied, “Maybe.”

“I have every intent on making you my wife, Dianna.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” he affirmed. “When the time is right.”

“How will we know when the time is right?” I asked, trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice. We were having a baby, for Christ’s sake.

“There are some things I’d like to take care of first.”

I slid my hands inside his leather coat and trailed my fingers up the bumps of his spine. “Like what?”

“Well, I’d like to have my mother’s ring, for one.” He paused thoughtfully. “But, seeing as it was aboard The Devil’s Heart, I’d like to find or fashion a special ring for you.”

“I don’t need a fancy ring,” I told him, my hands now caressing the expanse of his back. “I just need you.”

Henry’s body pushed mine against the edge of the wooden countertop, and I could feel his arousal growing at our nearness. His voice low and raspy, he replied, “I’m yours. As long as you’ll have me.”

His hungry mouth found mine and engulfed me in a slow but passionate kiss. When he withdrew, his hands reached for the collar of my white blouse and pulled it loose, so he could trail warm kisses down across my shoulder.

“But I won’t have my wife without a ring. One that means something.” More kisses on my skin. I threw my head back in ecstasy. “And I won’t have my child born a bastard.”

I snapped to attention. “But that means–”

“That we’re on a deadline,” Henry finished for me. “Once we reach England, I’ll search for the perfect ring and then we’ll be wed.” He grabbed my thigh and brought my leg up to his waist as he pressed himself against me. “That is if you don’t mind not having a wedding in Newfoundland.”

I pushed back as he hoisted my rear end up onto the counter, allowing my other leg to secure a grip all the way around his hips. “I don’t care if we’re married in the North Pole. As long as I’m with you.”

This was the most Henry had been intimate with me in the span of a day. Ever since we set out on our journey. It was only a matter of two days before the nightmares began. Then the violent tossing and turning started which led to the incident, the breaking point, just a mere two weeks in.

Ever since then, Henry had refused to relax around me, to touch me sensually. I knew his fear. I felt it, too. But it was nothing compared to the desire I harbored for the man before me. His fingers scrambled with my thick leather belt and the button on my slacks.

“Curse these Jesus garments,” he mumbled through heated kisses. “Why don’t you just wear a dress like a normal woman? It’d be much easier.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “For whom?” I took over and successfully undid my buttons in half a second. “I hate dresses. I’m not a lady or a normal woman. I’m a pirate.”

Henry’s mouth widened at my words. “Yes, my pirate queen. That you are.”

I lifted my bottom, so he could yank my pants off and then grabbed his face. “And you’re my king,” locking in a hard gaze, I added, “never forget that.”

The kitchen was ours as we hastily removed parts of our clothing, clawing at one another like animals in heat. Pots and pans strewed about as they fell from the counter. Surely, everyone could hear the commotion from the next room, but no one dared come and check.

Truthfully, I was so lost in the moment with Henry that I wasn’t sure I’d even notice someone entered the room. When I was with him nothing else mattered. The world could have been on fire and I’d never know. The man entranced my soul and I happily handed it over, trusting him to keep it safe and warm.

I just hoped he trusted me with his.

***

After an evening playing cards with the crew and Finn constantly teasing about the noises he’d heard from the kitchen, I threw down my winning hand and laughed. A few weeks back, I’d taught everyone how to play poker and once they caught on, it quickly became a regular pastime. Back home, I used to join in on John’s poker nights with the guys. We’d play for loonies. There on The Queen, however, we played for jewels.

The table before us was covered in cards, mugs of rum, and colored gems of all sorts. Rubies, emeralds, sapphires, strings of pearls. We’d split the Shellbed Isle treasure evenly. I insisted on it. We were kings and queens on the sea, waiting to reach land and spend our riches. But there on The Queen, our spoils were nothing more than playthings used to pass the time.

“Yer cheatin’!” Finn accused for the third time and threw his cards down on the table.

“I assure you I’m not,” I told him and pushed my winnings back to the center. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to keep any of it. I was just playing for fun.”

“Oh, no,” he replied and pushed the pile of treasure back to me. “Ye won fair‘n square. I dinnae need yer pity treasure.”

Gus’s eyes rolled at his friend’s display of childishness. “Christ, Finnigan, just work on your body language,” he suggested. “You’re a dead giveaway. Even I knew when you had favorable hand and when you did not.”

Gus was right. The Scot vibrated proudly each time he had a decent hand of cards and grinned maliciously around the table like the villain from a kid’s TV show. Likewise, he groaned and grunted like a child each time he had bad cards. I played him every time.

“Keep the treasure,” I told him. “And if I win it next time, I’ll keep it. Deal?”

Finn muttered Scottish curse words under his breath and he scooped the pile into a leather satchel. Lottie stood and began to clear the table of dirty dishes. I was about to get up and help her when a hand gently tugged at my arm. It was Charlie.

“Hey,” I said with a smile.

He returned the expression and began to jot something down on his notepad. His voice returned but the sound always came out in a strained gurgle of choppy words. I glanced down at the paper.

Baby?

I smiled. “It’s good.”

The young man beamed and nodded before jotting something else down. Something longer. Finally, he turned the paper to me.

Get to England. See my Mother?

My heart tinged that he even thought to ask. I threw my arm around his shoulders and inched closer to him on the wooden bench. “Charlie, you don’t have to ask to go see your mother. Once we get there, we could be facing all sorts of dangerous things. Or we could be sitting around like waiting ducks, hoping Maria will just appear. You’re better off at home with your mom. I’ll make sure you get there, okay?”

Charlie’s eyes twinkled with wetness and he rested his head in the crook of my arm. I knew he was almost a man, just a couple years away, but he’d always feel like the sweet boy I came to know and love. He risked so much for me that night in the woods and it nearly cost him his life. I would forever be in his debt. Besides, saying goodbye to a dying parent is something every child should have the chance to do. That’s a regret I’d take to my own grave.

Henry sat at my other side on the bench, calm and content with just being near me. He leaned back and crossed his arms as the others gathered their things and helped Lottie clean up before we all turned in for the night. I cuddled Charlie close as the evening grew quiet and the crew retreated to their bunks, one by one. Soon, all that remained were the three of us, and Charlie was fast asleep on my shoulder.

Henry helped me get him to his bunk and then we both retired to our quarters. I was full of warmth and glee. It filled my belly like the hot soup and I couldn’t wipe the smear of a smile that graced my expression as we undressed for bed.

“You seem happy,” Henry noted as he slid in next to me under the quilts.

I threw my arm over his chest and snuggled up. “I am. Things are finally looking good. We’re nearly there. Charlie gets to say goodbye to his mother. And I have a wonderful man to share my bed.”

“Is that all I am, then?” Henry quipped and rolled to his side, facing me. “A body to warm your sheets?”

I laughed and inched closer, soaking him in. “The only body I want.” I flicked the tip of my tongue out and slowly caressed the curve of his upper lip, driving out that deep groan I often fished for.

“You’re a glorious creature, you know that right?” he spoke as he swiftly moved on top of me.

Grinning at the pirate, I rolled my hips upwards and answered cheekily, “I know.”

“You’ll be the death of me, woman.”

I grabbed onto Henry’s hips and pulled him against me. Hard and forceful. “Then let us die together.” Hungrily, I took his mouth in mine, as he so often did to me. Then I pulled away, leaving him breathless, and moved my lips across his as I spoke, “Just for tonight.”