Authoress' Note: My goodness, I never thought this day would come! (I just couldn't wait to post this!!) After spending nearly 2 years writing this thing and finally getting it up online it is done. To some extent at least. I'm still working away at that epilogue. Please review when you're done reading!

The First Day of the Rest of Our Lives

It is a wonderful feeling to finally see the busy docks of Port Royal and the Union Jack snapping in the wind at the fort. The excitement of telling Elizabeth about my encounter with Will is overwhelming, and as soon as we make berth I search for Elizabeth's face amongst the elegantly bejeweled officer wives waiting on the dock. When I do not see her, my excitement turns into an anxiety that gnaws away at my insides. I take the carriage, which has been sent from the house, and when I arrive home at last I hasten up the front steps to greet Betsy at the door.

"Good to see you, Sir!" she cries taking my hat, and stepping back expectantly, "You had a successful voyage?"

"Yes," I respond absently, looking about me at a complete loss. I had expected to find Elizabeth waiting for me, but it seems she is nowhere to be found. Betsy follows me inside, shutting the door behind her, and bustling about as though nothing were the matter.

"Is something wrong, Sir?"

"Yes," I repeat, unbuckling the sword about my waist, "Betsy, tell me, where is my wife?"

Her face instantly changes from one of concern to gentle sympathy as she takes the sword and its scabbard into both hands, "Don't worry yourself, Sir. The missus was feeling under the weather this morning and decided to rest up for your arrival."

I open my mouth to ask the one million questions that are suddenly on my mind, but decide it's best if I seek Elizabeth out myself. Betsy seems to have read my mind.

"She's in the bedroom," she says, and I turn on my heel and bound up the stairs two at a time.

I knock on the door to our bedroom and am greeted with an uncustomary silence. Carefully, I open the door, slip inside, and close it quietly behind me. Elizabeth stands with her back to me, gazing out of the great bay window toward my ship in the harbor. Her crisp white dressing gown flutters slightly in an unseen draft. I stare at her brown hair, which has been plaited down her back, a style that I have never seen her wear before. She turns her head toward me as I take a step farther into the room.

"I saw your ship come in," she says, her voice quiet in the oppressive silence of the house.

"Yes," I reply as though urging her to say something more.

After a slight pause in which she glances down at the busy harbour below she continues, "And how was your voyage?"

"Well enough. I -"

I mean to tell her about my chance meeting with Will, but the words can't seem to find their way to my mouth. The look on Elizabeth's face tells me that now would not be the best time to bring up Mr. Turner. I swallow the words I long to say and clasp my hands behind my back. The silence lengthens unbearably and still no explanation for her absence presents itself. Then I remember Betsy's words from earlier. I take another hesitant step toward her.

"Elizabeth, are you well? Betsy mentioned you were feeling a bit poorly."

"No," she says, turning from me again, her deep brown eyes reflected in the windowpane, "I am quite well, thank you."

Her last word comes out slightly choked, and with a jolt of surprise I realise she is crying. Before I can move to put my arms around her, to embrace her or comfort her, she turns to me again. Shining teardrops make streaks upon her pale cheeks, and she closes her eyes to stop their flow. Opening them again, she speaks in a voice so low that I must strain to hear every word.

"James," she whispers, her voice wavering slightly. She makes a sound that is half way between a sob and what sounds like laughter, "Oh, James . . . I . . . I'm going to have a baby."

Now she turns to me fully, and my eyes go instantly to her hands resting on a slight swell beneath the white gown. She smoothes the cloth over beneath her hands and cries even harder. I am at a loss for words. Never would I have expected such a homecoming or a reaction to news that should otherwise be joyous. Brows furrowed I search for something, anything, to say.

"I'm sorry," I offer, knowing it will either do more ill than good.

Elizabeth gives another half-sob half-laugh and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. She gives me a watery smile, and taking one of my hands folds her self into me, so that I can feel the fluttering of life between us. It is a curious feeling, and I wonder how such a thing could cause her such heartbreak. Then everything becomes clear, as Elizabeth sighs, placing my hand underneath hers atop the swell of the gown.

"Why ever should you be sorry, James? I am not."

- Fin -

Authoress' Note: The end? Maybe? I'm not sure if I'm going to put that epilogue up, but this is definitely not the last you will see of me. I've grown very attached to this story, and I'm having a very hard time of letting it go, so you can definitely expect to see a list of "thank yous" or some other sort of nonsense that will make me teary-eyed and weepy.