Notes: Well, it's been 84 years... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry this took so very long. I would love to promise that it won't be *checks notes* another 2 years before I update next, but life has a way of getting in the way. I hope you enjoy this little update and do let me know what you think! THANK YOU so much to everyone who has read and reviewed and encouraged me to carry on with this little rowboat of a ship and this little epic of a story.


For the second time in her life, Abigail found herself seated in a Nassau tavern. In fact, it was the exact same tavern that she'd thrown herself into the strong arms of Lady Hamilton, and later met Captain Flint himself. This time, however, she was seated close to the bar and not at the table in the back. And this time, she was a little bit older, possibly wiser, and certainly not as overwhelmed at the sights and sounds of the busy tavern. This was not to say that she took everything she saw in stride, but perhaps this time, she wasn't showing every single thought and reaction on her face.

She glanced towards the table in the back where she'd eaten her first warm meal since she'd been taken, and if she concentrated hard enough, Abigail could almost feel the gentle pressure of Lady Hamilton's hand on her shoulder, giving her strength and projecting calm.

Deciding to do her best to impersonate Lady Hamilton's poise and bearing, Abigail sat a little straighter and looked around for Tandi, a woman Madi had introduced to her and who was to be, in Madi's words 'a partner, and possibly, even a friend'. Tandi had disappeared into the back rooms in search of a woman who could help them. The words of the Maroon Queen echoed in Abigail's mind:

"We do not ask you to help us. Only do not hinder our cause. If you can promise this, we can promise you assistance," she'd said after Madi had explained who and where Abigail had come from and what she'd hoped to do next.

Abigail, utterly taken with the regal queen, had nearly sworn to do everything in her power to single-handedly tear apart England's tyranny, but instead had solemnly sworn to do her best to be an asset and not a burden.

The Queen had inclined her head and Madi had smiled at Abigail, the smile of a woman who knew that she had another ally in the world. Feeling the same, Abigail had smiled back.

Shortly after Abigail met the queen, Madi had introduced her to Tandi, a young woman with bright eyes that missed nothing, and a sharp tongue that promised to keep Abigail on her toes.

"I'm not your maid," Tandi had said at one point as they stood on the Walrus deck, the Maroon Island disappearing into the distance behind them.

Abigail had turned to her with a frown. "Of course you aren't," she said. "Has someone called you so?"

Tandi looked her straight in the eyes. "I rather thought that perhaps you had. In your head, if not out loud."

"No," Abigail replied shaking her head. "Not once have I thought that. In fact, I think that Madi may have made the wrong decision by lumping me with you. I bring very little to this partnership."

"You bring your name," Tandi said. "And you bring your power."

"Power?" Abigail asked. "What power is that? I had no claim to my father's land or title-"

"Not that kind of power," Tandi said dismissively, waving her hand in the air. "You have a kind of power that comes simply from who you are. You're a white English lady. There's weight there."

Abigail thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. "I believe I take your point, in that case." She tilted her head to the side. "Is this why you think Madi paired us together? Do you think I'll be able to open doors that would otherwise be closed to you?"

"Oh, I don't think it," Tandi said smiling a little. "I know it. Give it time and watch. You won't need to go looking for opportunities to prove yourself. They'll come to you."

"That seems rather optimistic," Abigail said. "Not to mention unfair."

Tandi shrugged. "That is the way of this world. This is not to say that you won't need to get those soft hands of yours dirty or put in the work."

Abigail glanced down at her hands that after weeks on an island fishing, lugging buckets of water and firewood to and fro had actually hardened in places. She smoothed a finger over one particular callus on her palm and said, "I'm not afraid of hard work; and I won't let you down. I'm very aware that it's you and not me who is risking the greatest amount."

"As long as you know," Tandi said, but her eyes softened as they slid over to Abigail. "This may be beneficial to both of us, this partnership that Madi has engineered."

"I hope it will be," Abigail said. "May I ask, what are you hoping to do once in Nassau?"

"If you mean what are we to do once we arrive, we are to head straight to the tavern and meet with Eme," Tandi said facing Abigail fully. "She will most likely give me my old post back and we will find some kind of accommodation."

"And in the longer term?" Abigail asked. "I won't ask you to tell me any secrets, but…" She glanced behind them at the dark speck that was the Maroon Island. "The island seemed so peaceful. Why are you going back to Nassau? Is it only to assist with the rebellion?"

Tandi had given her a look that seemed to suggest that Abigail had finally asked the right question.

"It is to help my family," Tandi said. "But I'm also hoping to help myself." She smiled and Abigail was struck by how lovely Tandi was and how much she wanted to know more about her. "I want what you have, Miss Ashe. I want power. I know it won't be the kind that comes so easily to you, I know that I'll have to work hard for it. I want it just the same. I want a place that is mine. Do you understand?"

"I believe that I do," Abigail said. "And it's Abigail. Not Miss Ashe."

Tandi nodded sharply, smile fading from her face. "Abigail, then. And what is it you're looking for, Abigail? You who could simply return to your people and be well taken care of?"

"I could, yes," Abigail said turning her face into the wind as the sea spray misted over her skin. "But none of it would belong to me. Is it so hard to believe that I'd like a place of my own, as well?"

"Yes," Tandi said bluntly. "When Madi told me of you, I thought you might be mad. An English lady? Wanting to make her own way? In this world?" She shrugged. "But then I heard that you'd been stranded on an island as well as kidnapped by pirates. Stands to reason that you may be a little touched in the head after all that."

Abigail laughed. "You may be right. After everything, it would make sense if I were to turn out to actually be mad."

"Let's hope it does not come to that." Tandi's eyes narrowed. "And that sailor? Will he be a problem?"

"What sailor?" Abigail asked.

"The big one who keeps staring at you no matter where in the world you go," Tandi said rolling her eyes. "He's just been hit in the face with a coil of rope while up in the rigging."

Abigail fought the urge to look up and had shook her head. "He won't be a problem. He's made that quite clear."

Tandi straightened her skirts. "Don't be too certain. Men are always a problem."

Abigail was inclined to agree, as leaving the Walrus had been another challenge altogether. She could tell that Captain Flint still longed to find a way to dispatch her back to England or find a suitable tower for her to reside in. But perhaps he, too, had felt the phantom guidance of Lady Hamilton away from drastic actions and had simply told Abigail, "There is clearly little I can do to dissuade you from your plans. However, should you find yourself in peril, rest assured I will lend my assistance if I'm able."

"You cannot know how much that is valued, captain," Abigail had replied as they watched Nassau come into view, Tandi close by, not bothering to disguise her interest in the conversation. "I thank you for your assistance getting me this far."

"I hardly did anything, Miss Ashe," he said wryly. "However, far you've come in this world is most certainly down to you. And perhaps with the help of my boatswain."

Ah, yes. Flint's boatswain.

In the present, Abigail took a sip of something that was supposedly tea, but tasted more of ale, and wished with all her heart that she could forget what Billy Bones' hands felt like on her bare skin. Or what his voice sounded like after he laughed. Or how bloody safe he'd made her feel. Instead of the wretched limbo she currently felt, caught between vivid memories of him and the desire to forget.

In truth, she hadn't spoken to him without an audience since the island. He'd seemed to throw himself, quite literally, into his work and the camaraderie of his brothers. She'd seen him after one of his brawls and he'd been grinning like a mad man. Well aware that he was doing his own method of forgetting, she'd done what she deemed best and what he clearly wanted – she kept her distance from him. Her mind applauded her resolve even whilst her heart ached.

Staring into the depths of her mug, she recalled their brief exchange before she'd left the Walrus for Nassau. Still sporting bruises from various scraps that had seemed to plague him since they'd boarded the Walrus, he'd approached her where she waited with Tandi for the longboat to be readied.

"You're still set upon this course of yours?" he'd asked.

Arching an eyebrow, she'd replied, "Are you?"

He'd snorted, taking her point. "Yes, Damn us all, I am." He paused. "I know that..." He broke off as a crewman had brushed past them and he frowned. "Damn it, this isn't… I didn't mean for…"

"Don't," Abigail had said shaking her head, not wanting to hear an apology or another excuse. "Don't...do whatever it is you're trying to do right now. We've chosen our paths, as we knew we'd need to. God willing, we shall both find some sort of success." She hesitated and decided to aim for hopeful instead of the bitterness still lingering in her heart. "I believe in us. We've come this far, haven't we?"

Billy shook his head. "Abigail Ashe. I do believe you'll surpass us all." He stepped in close. "Should you need me. At all. At anytime, for any reason, I'll come to you. I promise."

So many promises in such a short time, Abigail thought lifting her mug to her lips and finding that she'd managed to down the entire drink at some point.

She hadn't had a chance to respond to Billy's promise as the call to board the longboats sounded and he'd immediately placed his hands on her waist and effortlessly lifted her into the boat.

Abigail had resolutely not looked back as they'd rowed for the Nassau shores. And now, she did her best to not think about her days on the island, or how they had been an addictive combination of peaceful and yet exciting.

What's passed has passed, my girl, she thought. You'd best be thinking of what on earth you're going to do next.

She was distracted from her musings as Tandi emerged from the kitchen with another woman who seemed mildly familiar to Abigail. They walked towards Abigail with their arms looped and the other woman was saying to Tandi, "I knew you would find your way back here."

"Of course, you did," Tandi said fondly. "I'm so very glad to be back."

Eme shook her head. "You are a foolish woman, but I am glad to see you." She looked at Abigail and inclined her head. "Miss Ashe. I'm Eme. Welcome to Nassau."

"Thank you," Abigail said. "I knew news travelled quickly on the island, but…"

"I recognised you," Eme said gently. "From the last time you were here." She looked her up and down. "You look much better than the last time, if I may be so bold as to say."

"Thank you," Abigail replied smiling slightly.

"As I understand it, you had just been through an ordeal," Eme said. "And I believe you've recently experienced another. This one involving a shipwreck?"

Abigail glanced at Tandi who shrugged and said, "People like to tell stories. Yours is an especially entertaining one, I expect."

"So it would seem," Abigail said with a sigh.

"Eme, we're looking for work," Tandi said. "May I have my old position back?"

Eme pursed her lips. "Against my better judgement, yes." She looked at Abigail. "However, and no disrespect Miss Ashe, but I'm not having inexperienced hands in my kitchen."

There was an emphasis on 'inexperienced' that Abigail took to mean 'untrustworthy', which she quite understood. She'd have to prove herself before anyone trusted her with their secrets.

"It's quite all right," Abigail said. "I'm sure to figure something out."

"Let's get you back into it, then, if you're so eager to burn your hands again," Eme said to Tandi before she looked to Abigail. "Will you be all right on your own?"

"Oh, yes, thank you," Abigail said smiling. "Please don't let me keep either of you."

Abigail watched them head into the back and thought about her options for an occupation; which seemed rather slim at present. After contemplating her mug for several long minutes, a smooth voice interrupted her thoughts with, "Welcome back to Nassau, Abigail Ashe."

Abigail looked over in surprise and quickly got to her feet. "Mistress Max, how do you do?"

"I do very well," she replied smiling as she gestured for Abigail to sit back down and she also slid onto a stool. "Although I confess to a great deal of surprise at seeing you here. When word reached me of your adventures, I thought surely someone was telling tales. And yet, here you are."

"Here I am," Abigail said feeling awkward and desperately unkempt beside the immaculately put-together Max. "I had wondered if I should make my presence known to someone. You, in particular, as I have some memory that you were kind to me previously."

"I wasn't sure if you'd remembered me," Max said. "You were rather..."

"Drugged?" Abigail suggested. "Extremely. But I remember Miss Guthrie and Lady Hamilton bringing me to you and you ensuring that I had something to eat and drink."

"Hardly a grand gesture," Max said.

"It was the first true kindness anyone had shown for my welfare in some time," Abigail countered. "It may have seemed trivial to you, but to me, it was a moment of great impact."

Max inclined her head. "I'm glad I was able to do what little I did then." She paused. "Does Miss Guthrie know you are here?"

Abigail shook her head. "I haven't seen her, if that's what you mean." She frowned. "I confess being uncertain as to how things truly stand in Nassau. I am no longer the daughter of a respected English Lord, I am simply a single woman without much means. I hardly expect that I'll be invited for tea. I have nothing to offer."

"That remains to be seen, doesn't it?" Max replied. "You need not worry about Eleanor. She will come to you if she has need of you." Abigail frowned, as that sounded somewhat mercenary. Max continued, "I take it that your presence is not to be a secret, then? You are seated rather prominently in my tavern, after all."

"I have no wish to be a secret. I have nothing to hide," Abigail said, doing her best to not think about the gold coins secreted away in the lining of her dress. "I'm here simply because I have no where else to go. My original plans were, well, sunk, as it were. You'll have heard of the Hadley?"

"I have," Max said. "I believe you, or your alias, was considered lost at sea."

"It seems that I've fallen into a habit of such circumstances," Abigail said with a sigh. "I sincerely hope this is the last time."

Max smiled. "As do I."

"I don't suppose you know if any of my belongings found their way to shore?"

Max frowned. "We did take some goods in trade for repairs to the ship. I shall enquire about them and let you know."

"I'd be most grateful," Abigail said.

"What do you intend to do on Nassau, Miss Ashe?"

"I'm not...entirely sure," Abigail replied. "I have a few skills, but not much expertise. I will need to find a way to support myself. I have a...companion who is assisting me."

"A companion?" Max asked. "I had heard that you had a companion on the island with you; is this and your present companion one and the same?"

"No," Abigail said feeling her cheeks flush. "No, indeed not. My companion is a friend of Eme's. Her name is Tandi, she used to work on the island."

"I remember her," Max said her eyebrows rising. "You do manage to meet the most interesting people."

"I haven't determined if it is a talent or a curse," Abigail said.

Max laughed, and said, "Knowing people is always a good thing. Even knowing the wretched ones. Knowing people means learning things, which is always valuable." She tilted her head as she regarded Abigail. "In terms of an occupation, perhaps you should consider the skills you haven't considered to be skills."

Abigail frowned and was about to ask Max to clarify when a young woman approached them to whisper in Max's ear. She listened and then nodded.

"I will come straight away." She turned to Abigail with a smile. "I'm sorry to leave you, but this should only take a moment or two. I will return. Please stay. I think we have much more to still discuss."

"I'm at your disposal," Abigail said, falling back on courtesy even though her thoughts whirled.

She watched Max leave and breathed in the scented oils she left in her wake. Abigail wondered what on earth Max could possibly want with her? She was a disgraced English woman. She was hardly a prize.

Her thoughts were once again interrupted, but this time they were interrupted by a loud yet friendly cry of, "Mermaid!"

Startled, Abigail looked over to see none other than Mad Murphy making way to her. In spite of herself, she smiled happily. "Mr Murphy! I am glad to see that you made it back in one piece."

"Never any doubt of that, mermaid," he said cheerfully plonking himself down in the seat beside her. "Glad to see you made it off your island."

"All thanks to you," she said. "You have my immense gratitude. If you hadn't sent word of our peril, I might still be on that island."

Which is a bad thing, right? her treacherous thoughts taunted her with and she resolutely ignored them.

"Gratitude? For telling the truth?" Murphy said in disbelief while he grinned. "It's me that owes you, mermaid. Won my drinks worth and proved my point, didn't I?" He peered at her. "What'll you be doing here? No better island to be on?"

"Not at present," Abigail said, "but I'm sure I'll find my way, one way or another."

"Well, I'm at your service, mermaid," he said placing a hand on his heart. "Where's our Billy? Shouldn't he be looking after you?"

"I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea where he is," Abigail said. "Ours was a temporary situation, you see."

"Ah," Murphy said suddenly serious. "I do take your meaning, mermaid. These things happen, don't they?"

"And who's this, then?"

Abigail turned to see Tandi approaching them with a scowl on her face directed at Murphy.

"Tandi, this is Mr Murphy," Abigail said. "A friend. Thanks to him and his wondrous coracle, he's the reason we made it off the island."

"Is that right?" Tando said still eyeing Murphy with undisguised distrust. "Looks like a drunk to me."

"Oh, well, I'm that, too," Murphy said grinning. "Imagine taking to the sea in naught but a coracle sober? You couldn't do it!"

Tandi nodded once. "That's a fair point." She looked at Abigail. "I've arranged lodgings for us."

"You have?" Abigail said. "That's wonderful."

"You haven't seen them yet," Tandi warned. "I'm needed in the kitchen for the next while. You just stay here."

"That's two people who want me to stay here," Abigail muttered rolling her eyes.

"Who else wants you here?" Tandi asked sharply.

"Mistress Max."

"Oh," Tandi nodded. "That's no surprise, is it? She'll be wanting to know what you know."

"Which is very little," Abigail said.

Tandi shrugged. "For now."

"The pair of you are making me head spin," Murphy said. "You always talk this fast?"

Abigail suppressed a smile at Tandi's sigh of annoyance. "Is he going to be problem?" she asked Abigail.

"I think he's fairly harmless," Abigail said.

"Fairly harmless, that's me." Murphy said. "My fighting days are well over, miss. Over and gone into the murky past."

Tandi said something in her dialect that while Abigail didn't know precisely what it was she said, she could gather the gist of it.

"Stay out of trouble," she said to Abigail. "And try not to get shipwrecked in the next few hours."

"Your compassion knows no bounds," Abigail replied.

Tandi shot her a glare that was tempered by the upwards curve of her lips. "Silly English lady."

Abigail rolled her eyes even as she smiled.

After Tandi had disappeared into the kitchen, Murphy said, "Don't think the lady likes me much."

"I don't believe she does, no," Abigail said sympathetically.

He shrugged. "I' m a hard fella to like. I'm the first to admit it."

"I rather thought the opposite," Abigail said. "Well, after I pointed a knife in your direction."

"You did, didn't you? Bloody hell, that was a sight," he said grinning. "Our Billy ever show you how to make proper use of the blade?"

An image of sitting astride Billy, knife at his throat, his hands wide and warm on her waist as they grinned breathlessly at one another flashed in her mind.

"He did, as a matter of fact," Abigail said, shoving such images to the side. "Don't know how much damage I'd do, but I know the sharp end goes into the soft parts."

"That's the general idea, all right." Murphy made to say more but raised voices from a nearby table took his attention away.

Two men sat staring at a piece of parchment and the one in a red shirt said, "It's no good, Jonesy. I can't read the fucking thing. Could be telling me I'm the king of fucking England and I wouldn't fucking know."

"Oi," Murphy called out. "There's a lady present, lads."

The men looked over and then looked Abigail over. She schooled her expression into as severe a one as she could.

"So there is," Jonesy said. "How'd you find yourself a lady, Murphy? And how much of a lady is she?"

Abigail heard the innuendo in his pronunciation of 'lady' and sighed inwardly.

"Found her on an island, as a matter of fact," Murphy said. "This is the mermaid I told you lads about."

"Where's her tail?" the man in the red shirt asked looking at Abigail's rear.

"On her island, you idiot, where do you think it is?" Murphy said. He leaned towards Abigail. "This here is Finch and Jonesy. They crew here and there." He turned back to the men. "And you'd best be behaving. Mermaid here is Billy Bones'."

Abigail saw red for a moment and considered objecting, but the way the men leaned back warily gave her pause.

"Bones doesn't fuck, everyone knows that," Jonesy said hesitantly.

"Don't mean he doesn't look after what's his," Murphy said tapping his nose.

"Can you do magic, mermaid?" Finch asked as his fingers scrunched the parchment in his hands.

"I'm afraid I don't, usually," she said even as an idea stuck her. "However, I can read that to you, if you'd like?"

All three men looked at her in wonder.

"You know your letters?" Finch asked eyes wide.

"I do. Do you need assistance?" she asked.

"Do I ever," he said getting to his feet so quickly, his chair clattered across the floor. "Fuckin- pardon me, bloody militiaman gave this to me this morning. Don't know what to make of it. Bloody bastards know most of us can't read. Don't know why they're handing this mess out to us."

To keep you under control and introduce bureaucracy hoping to wear you down into following the rules, Abigail thought. So that one day when they throw you into prison for one reason or another, they will be able to tell you that you'd been warned. Never mind that you can't read what they've given you.

"Well, let's take a look, shall we?" she said as she took the parchment from Finch. She scanned it quickly and raised her eyebrows. "Mr Finch, do you own a ship?"

Finch frowned. "I has a dinghy. Nothing to brag about. Took it off an old fisherman's hands a few months back as he'd passed and it was going spare. Only use it for fishing when the mood strikes. Why? What's it say?"

"Well, this says that you must remove your ship from its present mooring to a place more acceptable and out of the way of the commercial vessels. If you fail to do so, you will be placed in jail and the ship confiscated," Abigail said before she looked up and met Finch's disbelieving gaze.

"That's it?" he asked. "They want me to move my fucking dinghy? It's a bloody dinghy! It's not in the way of, what do they call them? Comm- comme-"

"'Commercial vessels'," Abigail said. "I expect the governor is attempting to regulate the harbour so that the ships who are involved in trade take priority."

"'Course they take priority," Jonesy said. "You always get out of their way when they come in, but they don't come all the way in cause the harbour's not deep enough. Only small things can manage! What a fucking joke!"

"It truly says they'll throw me in the brig if I don't move her?" Finch asked looking at the parchment.

"I'm afraid so," Abigail said showing him the parchment. "It's this line right here, see? You'll have to spend at least five days in jail should you not comply with the writ. That word there? It reads 'jail'. And that phrase there? It reads 'failure to comply'."

"Son of a bitch," Finch said in wonder taking the parchment back. "'Jail'. That's what it looks like." He looked up and smiled at Abigail. "Wouldn't have had the first clue, miss, if you hadn't read it. Thank you."

"Will you be moving your boat, then?" she asked.

He sighed. "Reckon I will. Hardly seems worth being thrown into jail all over a dinghy that can barely float." He searched the room and called out, "Davy! Davy! Oi, lad! You still have that writ they gave you? You ever figure out what it said?"

"Nah," Davy, a young lad with a scraggly beard called back. "Can't put the letters all together so's they make sense."

Finch jerked his head towards Abigail. "Murphy's mermaid'll read it! Bring it here. She knows her letters."

"Know my letters," Davy scoffed. "Just don't know all of 'em." He looked up at Abigail shyly. "You can read this, miss?"

"Abigail," she replied. "Call me Abigail, and yes. I'd be happy to read this for you. In fact," she said as her idea and something rather like hope began to bubble in her chest, "why don't you tell me which letters you know and I'll simply fill in the blanks for you."

As Davy showed her the words and letters he knew, Abigail patiently listened and praised him when he got them right and gently corrected him when he got them wrong. More and more men came closer, most of them with bits of parchment and letters and even a few broadsheets in hand.

She was in the midst of reading aloud an article from a broadsheet dated two years prior when Tandi appeared. She elbowed her way to Abigail's side and murmured, "Told you those opportunities would just walk right up to you. You'll believe me next time I tell you what's what, won't you?"

"I absolutely will," Abigail murmured back before she carried on with the goings on in London from two years ago.

Eventually, Max returned, too. She looked around at all the men crowded close to Abigail and a speculative look crossed her face. Her smile towards was a lovely cross of conspiratorial and proud and Abigail returned it as she continued to read aloud.

I've found it, Abigail thought with a hesitant kind of wonder. My place. I've found it.


Billy's right cheek ached. He wasn't sure if it was a result of that initial fight with Dooley, from when a coil of rope hit him right in face when he'd been distracted looking for Abigail on deck one day, or from the other fight with Dooley a few days back.

In any case, it fucking hurt and it was his fucking fault that it hurt, so he figured he couldn't actually complain about the damn thing.

However, a part of him figured that if he focussed on his bruised cheek, he'd forget about his bruised heart. Which, to be completely fair, was also his fucking fault.

So, he was left to ponder that ache in his face as he followed Ben Gunn into Nassau in the direction of the tavern. He thought about whether or not it was just a bruise or had Dooley managed to crack a bone somewhere.

He thought about his cheek all the way until he stood in the tavern doorway and promptly stopped thinking about much of anything.

Because seated primly, spine straight in the middle of a crowd of murderous, thieving pirates (and fuck, was that fucking Mad Murphy right beside her with a smug smile on his face?) was Abigail Ashe reading aloud in her clear, soft, steady tone.

"Dear Jonas, Not sure if you still live and not sure if I care." She paused and glanced up at a man Billy thought was named Daniels.

Daniels grinned. "Not to worry, miss. Me brother hates me as much as I hate him. You carry on."

Abigail smiled a little as she nodded and Billy felt his guts clench. He wondered if he made some kind of noise, because he noticed Ben glanced at him in concern.

"Married Mary Smith," Abigail continued reading, "as she says that since you are not coming back, she will settle for me and my pigs. Says pigs is better than a man who is not around or alive to care for her." She paused to take a breath and then carried on, "Mam passed a week back and Da says you ought to know. If you are alive, hope that you stay away. If you are dead, then don't figure this letter will be read. Your brother, Michael Daniels."

Billy watched her as she raised her head and said gently, "I'm so very sorry for your loss, Mr Daniels."

Daniels shrugged and looked down at the letter still in Abigail's hands. "We all die, miss. That isn't much of a surprise. Just hard to believe Mam went 'fore Da. She always had more spirit than any of us." He made a face. "Can't believe Mary went and married Mikey. Him and his ever-loving pigs. She'll regret that, miss, she will. They smell something awful and'll eat your hand off when they get angry."

Abigail handed his letter back to him. "I'm sorry it wasn't pleasant news in your letter."

"Aw, that don't matter, miss," Daniels said grinning. "It's me first letter. Thought I'd never know what it said. Now I do!" He frowned. "Reckon I should write back?"

"If you'd like," Abigail said slowly. She looked around and Billy suddenly noticed that Max had been nearby to her the entire time. "In fact, would you like me to teach you how to write back?"

Daniels blinked at her. "You can do that, miss? Teach us letters?"

"I can, and what's more, I'd like to," she said as she raised her voice to announce, "In fact, I'd be happy to teach anyone who wished to learn their letters. I understand that there have been some publications issued by the governor that are not always easily understood..."

Oh, fuck me, Abigail, Billy thought. Don't do it. Don't get involved.

"I would be honoured to help everyone to understand what is written," Abigail continued and the crowd murmured with a few grins and nods here and there.

"And I would be most happy to let you use the tavern for your lessons," Max said coming to stand beside Abigail. "Provided a nominal fee is paid to Miss Abigail for her time? Is that satisfactory, gentlemen?"

There was some further murmuring, but to Billy's dismay, most of the men seemed keen and grinned as they fumbled with their bits of parchment.

"Thank you, Mistress Max," Abigail said smiling serenely. "That would be much appreciated." She paused and lifted her chin. "I would like to add that the reading of personal correspondence will always be free of charge."

She's done it, Billy thought as the men cheered. She's won the fucking lot over. They'll pay her and she'll teach them their letters and she won't need you.

As Billy watched Abigail chat with the men while Max and the woman who'd been by Abigail's side since they'd left the Maroon Island and god damn Mad Murphy stood next to her, he felt his cheek ache even more.

And as per usual, there was no one to blame for it except himself.