There were still no leads. Fabrizo disappeared without a trace. The city was teeming with young Italian men. Descriptions and eye witness accounts were no help. There was no way of knowing which, if any, of the stories were about him. If only he had some sort of distinguishing feature, something that set him apart from all the other dark haired, accented men, but Darrin could find nothing like that. Fabrizo came into the country alone. Jack was his only close friend. The people he worked with knew nothing, or more likely, they would tell nothing. Cal as furious about the lack of results, but he refused to call off the search. Darrin and his team would just have to get more creative. It would have helped if Cal stopped refusing to make Rose's disappearance public, but he wouldn't hear of it.

Fabrizo settled in easily, and soon they felt as if he had always been there. Rose was glad Jack had someone else to talk to. He would never say it, but she was sure he liked having another man around. As wonderful as their relationship was, there were times when they both wanted a little time apart. She wished there were more women nearby, but Lucy was the closest one. There was no chance of making friends with her, though Rose did occasionally wonder if a peace offering might help. If she sent Lucy something, perhaps things might change, or at the very least, maybe she wouldn't be so hostile. Being disliked didn't worry Rose, but she knew Lucy's opinion could influence the rest of the town's opinion of her. She didn't want to be ostracized by everyone in the area.

She and Fabrizo were getting closer. That was one consolation. They didn't have long discussions or share secrets, but they talked more now than ever before. Rose didn't feel quite so awkward around him, and she didn't worry he was judging her. Fabrizo saw how hard she tried to keep with the work, and he was impressed by how well she did. It was hard to tell she came from a world of leisure and privilege. She was funny too. He hadn't realized it before.

Jack liked watching the two of them become friends. As far as he was concerned, it was a perfect arrangement. Well, it was almost perfect. Fabrizo needed a girl of his own. Jack imagined the four of them as a kind of extended family, with Fabrizo as the brother he never had. Their children would grow up together, but there would be no pressure on them to fall in love. They would be free to see each other any way they chose—as cousins or as something more; it wouldn't matter either way.

Rose found Fabrizo's skills nearly as fascinating as Jack's. He knew things she never expected any man to know, and like Jack, he was willing to teach her anything she asked about.

"I thought cooking was considered a woman's task," Rose said, half-joking.

"Only a fool says that," Fabrizo replied. "In my village everyone appreciates good food, and everyone knows something about making it. Some know more than others, yes, but we all can manage."

"How did you learn?' she asked.

"My mother taught me some things; my father taught me others," he said. "They had different, uh—" He searched for the word.

"Specialties?" she offered.

"Si. Yes, that's it." He laughed. "I couldn't say it."

"You speak English very well, though."

"Not perfectly," he said. "But thank you. Soon, I will."

"You're welcome."

"You don't speak any Italian, do you Rosa?"

Rose shook her head. "I'm afraid not. English and French are all I know."

"That's too bad. But you know, I could teach you Italian."

"Would you?" she said eagerly. "You wouldn't mind?'

"No. It'll be fun. Jack knows a little. I taught him some," he said. "I got tired of translating for him," he added, with a chuckle.

"I was impressed by the way he wrote to you in Italian."

"It is impressive. And useful," he said.

"And useful," she agreed. "I always wished I could express myself in a language no-one around me could understand. Although, it seemed like I was always speaking a language no-one else could understand." She laughed wryly. "But I wished there was a way for me to express myself safely, you know?"

"We all wish that sometimes," he said. "I can understand why that would be important to you."

"I don't mean to sound self-pitying," she said.

"You don't."

"My life really wasn't that awful. My suffering wasn't anything compared to the things other people have to endure. At least, it wasn't too awful until I married," Rose said. "I wasn't happy, but I knew it could be worse."

"That doesn't mean your suffering doesn't matter," Fabrizo said. "And you know you aren't the only one who suffers, so you aren't—uh—"

"A brat?"

"Si. A brat," he said. "If that was you, Jack wouldn't love you so much."

She smiled slightly. "I guess not. You remind me of him. I can see why you're such good friends."

"I'll consider that a compliment."

"You should," she said.

Jack came in at that moment, sketchbook under his arm. "Whatcha doin?" he asked cheerfully.

"Talking," Rose said, leaning up for his kiss.

"I'm stealing your wife," Fabrizo said. "You leave her alone too much and with a Sicilian. Bad choice."

Jack took a seat at the table. "If she wants to go, I won't stop her," he said, shrugging.

"You wouldn't fight for me?" she said, gasping in mock horror. "Really, Jack?"

Jack put his hand on hers. "You want me to fight what makes you happy? Cause I won't do that."

Rose felt warm and silly. Every time he said something sweet for no reason her heart melted all over again. She wished she could stop herself from smiling so widely. "You convinced me to run away with you," she said. "What more do you want?"

At times like these Fabrizo felt out of place. They forgot about him completely. They gazed at each other, oblivious to everything else. It was funny and cute at the same time. He'd seen couples act this way, but he'd never seen Jack do it. Jack never formed attachments, not until Rose came along. Everything was always casual. He never promised anything he couldn't or wouldn't do, unlike some men who would say anything to get a girl's dress off. Fabrizo had never treated women badly, but after traveling with Jack for a while, he began paying more attention to the way he behaved with them. In his village women were often revered for their status as mothers or protected, but they were never equals. Jack was the first man he ever met who thought otherwise.

This was different than anything that had come before. Fabrizo was almost jealous watching them. In spite of the risk, they were lucky to have found one another.

"We can't keep this up forever," Ruth said. "Some people are asking questions. It's been months since anyone saw her. We can't just keep saying she's ill."

"I know that," Cal said tersely. "But no-one has reason to suspect anything. No-one else knows what that fiasco on the ship."

"Unless a maid or one of the stewards said something," she replied. "Or one of his friends. It could get out. It may have gotten out already. The story doesn't have to come from a reputable source to spread. You know how gossip works."

"We'll find her soon."

"You've been saying that all along, but we're no closer to bringing her back now than we were when this started," Ruth said. "She could be anywhere by now."

"They have no money," he pointed out. "Where could they possibly go?"

"Money doesn't stop a man like him. I think we saw that."

"I'm doing everything I can," Cal said. "Any day now, we'll find her. One clue is all we need."

Ruth wasn't entirely oblivious to what went on in her daughter's marriage. She chose to ignore or refused to believe the worst of it, as she had done with her own marriage and that of her parents. Most, if not all, husbands were harsh. Men were difficult to live with. Hadn't her own mother told her that often enough? Keeping them happy took effort. It was a thankless, unceasing job, and Rose never tried. That was the main problem. She deliberately tried Cal's patience.

More than once Ruth had explained the importance of getting along with men, of doing things the way they wanted. It was the price of their protection. Cal took care of them. His name and fortune sheltered them. What more did Rose want? Husbands were providers; they were necessary only for that and children. They weren't friends or companions. Women weren't either, with few exceptions. Her views, though shared by many, made for a rather small and lonely life.

"I hope so," she said. "I want her back."

…..

"No, no, thinner," Fabrizo said. "We're making noodles not bread."

"Like this?" Rose asked.

"Yes," he said. "Bene."

"Why don't I just make bread?" Jack suggested.

"They're not so bad," Rose said. "You just need to thin them out a little." She reached for his dough. "May I help?"

"Sure," Jack said. He stepped back and watched her work. The dough molded easily for her, rolling into the right shape and size. Fabrizo moved faster, making five to her two, but that didn't matter.

"What are you smiling at?" Rose asked.

Jack shrugged. "Nothing."

"Why don't you stop staring and help?" she suggested playfully. "Maybe we'll catch up to the Italian Wonder."

"It would take three of us," Jack said.

"She might have a better chance on her own," Fabrizo joked.

"You saying I can't do it?" Jack said, feigning offence. "I can do this."

"Sure you can," Fabrizo replied. "Right Rosa?"

"If he keeps trying," she said. "But it looks like he wants to give up. I never expected that."

"I'm not giving up," Jack said.

"I thought he could do anything," Rose said melodramatically. "But it's nice having a skill he doesn't," she added, laughing.

"You've got lotsa skills," Jack said.

"Oh yes, I can sit very still and be quiet for hours at a time," she replied. "It's so useful."

"You can do more than that," Jack said.

"I do wear clothes well," she said. "I'm like a living statue. I wonder if three's a demand for such a thing? I suppose I could be a model."

"Jack doesn't look happy with that idea," Fabrizo said. "Maybe you should teach French."

Rose glanced over at Jack. He tried to hide it, but she saw his frown. "Yes, I could teach French," she said. "I could teach you, in fact. We could trade, my French for your Italian."

"We'll trade," Fabrizo agreed. "I didn't really learn any when I was there."

"But Jack, you did, right?" Rose asked. An anxiety knot formed in the pit of her stomach. It was one frown; it could be about anything; it probably meant nothing. And even if it did have something to do with her, did it really matter? She and Jack could disagree. They could think and like different things. The way they felt about each other wouldn't change. There was no reason to be nervous.

But she was. Rose tried to shake it, but she couldn't. Being alert for signs of danger was second nature to her, even after a few months of peace and safety. Jack's grin settled her nerves a little, but she was still on edge for the rest of the afternoon. Her hands lost their nimbleness. "Maybe I can't do it after all," she said apologetically. "I must have spoken too soon."

"You'll get it," Fabrizo encouraged.

Jack noticed the way her hands gently shook. Everything else about her appeared normal, or it would to someone who didn't know her well.

"Maybe I should just stick to being still and quiet," Rose said self-deprecatingly. "It's nearly impossible to fail at that. Why don't I go bring in the laundry?" she suggested. "It's probably dry by now."

"I'll help," Jack offered.

"No, I can do it," she said. "At least, I think I can manage it."

Jack watched her go. "What just happened?" he asked, turning to Fabrizo.

"Do you not know? I assumed you did."

"Something upset her," Jack said. "But I don't know what."

"She's a very sensitive girl, no?"

"In some ways. The life she's had, it's…bothered her, you know? I thought she was getting over it," he said. "She's been so happy. You've seen the difference."

"She isn't so nervous lately," Fabrizo agreed. "She's a lot more confident."

"Right. It's like she always lived here," Jack said. "You'd never know those terrible things happened to her….I should go talk to her."

"Maybe you leave her alone for a while," Fabrizo suggested. "She may want some time by herself. Before, there were always people around. She might like the chance to breathe and sort things out."

"Yeah, you're right," Jack said, sighing. "She'll be fine."

….

Rose was quiet for the rest of the day. She responded when they spoke to her, but otherwise she said nothing. They went about their usual routine, but there was tension in the air. It made Rose even more nervous, which in turn bothered Jack, who didn't understand where her discomfort came from. They were caught in a cycle they couldn't escape. Fabrizo tried to lighten the mood, but his efforts were in vain.

Rose was brushing her hair when Jack came into their room. "Hey," he said. He smiled warmly at her reflection in the mirror.

"Hello." She smiled back, but there as a hesitancy in her eyes.

Jack kissed the top of her head. "Tired?"

"Not really," she answered.

"You wanna stay up?"

Rose shook her head. "No, let's go to bed. I'll fall asleep eventually."

She settled into his arms, but there was something different. Her body was rigid, as if she were uncomfortable being so close to him. "Rose, did I do something?" he asked.

"Why would you ask that?"

"You seem upset," Jack said. "You have since this afternoon. I don't know why, but if it's me, I'm sorry. I don't know what I did."

"It isn't you," she said.

"Then what is it? It can't be Fabrizo. You two've been getting along great. Haven't you/"

"It's not him either. He's wonderful. I really like him."

"Then what is it?" he asked again.

"I don't know how to explain it. I probably imagined it. When we were talking earlier, do you remember the way you frowned at me?"

"The way I frowned?" he said.

"When I mentioned being a model. You frowned. You tried to hide it."

"That's what upset you?" he said. "Honey, I didn't mean—"

"I know you didn't mean anything by it," Rose said. "I know how absurd it sounds. But when I saw it…there was this disapproval about you. You've never looked that way. I didn't want to say anything. It's so ridiculous. But it scared me." She looked up at him. "It reminded me of the way Cal looked at me. I don't know I felt it so strongly," she went on. "Little things terrify me. I get nervous, and it just builds from there. I can't control it."

"It's not ridiculous," Jack said. "You shouldn't talk about yourself that way. Your feelings matter, Rose. I don't care who told you they don't. It's not true. You've gotta be nicer to yourself. I can't do it all."

"I know. It's a very difficult thing to do."

"After what you lived through, I'm sure it is," he said. "But you're not in that anymore. You're with me, and nothing like that's ever gonna happen again. I understand it'll take more time to get over it, but you're getting there. You just hafta keep trying. Rose, if you could see yourself…"

"What would I see?" she asked.

"You'd see a smart, capable woman," he replied, kissing her cheek. "Beautiful and smart and brave."

"Do you really think I'm all of those things?"

Jack put his hand on her face. "I think you're everything," he said.

"You said that before. It seems like years ago, almost," she said.

"I meant it. If you get scared, that's fine. I understand. Just tell me when it happens. Tell me how to help. If that means leaving you alone, then I'll do it," he said.

"Would you stay this patient?" Rose said. "That helps more than anything."

"Of course." He hugged her tighter. "And I'll try not to frown," he added.

"You can frown. You can even disagree with me. Just…"

"What?" he prompted.

"You never yell," she said. "Or you haven't yet. Jack, don't ever, please."

"I wouldn't, not at you. You're my wife. That's not how you treat your wife."

"I know you believe that," she said.

"Because it's true," Jack said. "No matter what happens, no matter what you do, I'll never act the way he did. You know that. You trust me, Rose?"

"I trust you. I just forget sometimes," she said. "I forget I'm safe. That's almost a terrifying feeling. I don't always know how to handle it. When Fabrizo first arrived, I was glad he was here because I thought I needed to be around someone who disapproved of me, someone who didn't love me. I thought it would help."

"Why would you need that?"

"I've spent my life trying to please everyone," Rose said. "I never succeeded, but at least I knew what to do. I knew what was expected of me. With you, there are no expectations, or if there are, they aren't impossible. I can make you happy. I don't even realize I'm trying to sometimes, but you're pleased with me anyway. It's strange."

Jack was struck once again by how sad her life sounded. He couldn't believe she managed to survive in such a cold and hostile world. Had no-one loved her at all before him? Did no-one care if she was miserable? Or frightened all the time? Didn't they notice a causal change in expression could send her into a panic? It wasn't right. Thinking about her life made him angry. He wished he'd found her sooner. He wished he could have taken her away before she ever met Cal. He wished she'd never been hurt.

Jack held her against him and kissed her slowly, as if he could erase everything that happened in the past.

"I'm happy," Rose said. "Despite all the things I say and the absurd ways I behave sometimes, I'm really happy here, Jack. I wouldn't change anything. I'd go through all of it again, if I knew I was going to be with you at the end."

"You don't have to do that," he said. "And if you think you're happy now, just wait. Things'll get better."

"I don't know if I can handle that."

"We'll figure out a way," he said. "You're my wife. I'm always here for you."

Rose smiled. "Say it again."

"What? Wife?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Wife." He kissed her. "Mrs. Dawson." He felt her body shift, angling toward him. Her arms were around him now. "Rose Dawson," he whispered, nuzzling her neck.

"I like when you talk," she whispered.

Jack grinned. "I know," he said.