Author's Note: We're starting to get into some angst, but all will be well. Reviews make my fingers fly over the keyboard.

Chapter 8

Jack was sitting where the priest had abandoned him facing the front of the small chapel, when Samantha entered. Without turning around he knew it was her, having committed every nuance of her scent and the sound of her footsteps to memory, long ago. He resisted the urge to walk up to her and plead for a final kiss. Jack had but a little while left in his mortal coil and he intended to do so with dignity.

"Samantha," Jack breathed softly, remaining perfectly still.

"How did you-"

A slight smile crossed his lips. "When it comes to you, my Samantha, I always know. But how is it you found me here? Or is it merely coincidence?"

It was Samantha's turn to smile as she explained, "I met up with the priest and got a pretty good idea that you were here."

Jack rose from his seat and walked towards her. "Shall we continue this discussion on the way to the house? It's slightly chilly in here and I don't want you getting ill when antibiotics aren't yet in existence."

Unthinkingly he offered her his arm and mentally kicked himself as soon as he did, fully expecting her to rebuff him. To his amazement her arm wound around his and she allowed him to lead her towards the house. Not a kiss, but her touching him civilly and voluntarily knowing who he was, was a moment to be treasured. Jack nearly fell over in shock as Samantha asked, "Are you scared? I mean about if you-"

"Am I afraid of dying?" Jack offered. "Not really. I'm concerned about leaving you alone, but other than that, I am not especially disturbed. Maybe a little annoyed at the timing and means."

"Oh," Sam replied weakly, uncertain of what to say. She wished she could think of something comforting to say, but everything that came to mind seemed trite and pointless. What could she say? They walked into the house and he immediately relinquished her arm. Sam was left standing in the hallway as Jack went into the ballroom for his sword. As she stood alone waiting for his return, she saw the first glow of the sun pour through the windows. Time was dwindling away, with every moment Samantha's heart began to ache a little more.

Jack returned to the foyer, rapier in hand, the blood wiped off and the blade shined wickedly. He coaxed the gleaming blade into the jeweled scabbard that hung around his waist,. As she watched, Samantha paled as an image of a similar sword piercing Jack's heart flashed before her. Having played their game so long and brilliantly, it was horrible to imagine it ending this way.

Noticing her pallor and the slight glint of tears in Samantha's eyes, Jack assumed she was scared about being alone in another era. He tried to reassure her, "You'll be fine my Samantha. I have no doubt you'll manage quite well without me."

The fact he was trying to comfort her, made the hurt even worse. Even now faced with death, Jack put Samantha first and the gesture touched her to the very core of her soul. Tears began to fall as she grabbed his arm and pleaded, "Please call this off Jack. Don't leave me alone like this."

"No Samantha, I have to do this." A bittersweet smile twisted his mouth as he told her, "As for being alone, were possible to die of loneliness, I would have been cold in the grave many years back. Just as you would have my Samantha had you ever admitted how isolated you've always been."

"Jack, I-" Samantha tried to speak, as he brought an embroidered handkerchief from his coat and began to dab her eyes. Staring into his dark eyes she felt the first true understanding she had from another human being in ages. He was right that she was isolated and now there seemed little chance either would ever know anything else. Sam forced herself to pull back slightly from the torrent of her emotions and to consider Jack. If he could put her first at such a moment, she owed him as much.

What could she do or say that would bring him even a small degree of happiness or comfort? Samantha wouldn't insult him by telling him she loved him because even though she now saw the potential, it would ring false with him. Jack had loved her, pursued her and was now prepared to fight to the death for her. The answer dawned on her as he lead her outside. As the sun brought the much dreaded day, Samantha wrapped her arms around Jack's neck and pulled his mouth to hers.

Noticing his shocked look when their kiss finally ended, she told him, "For luck."

A servant in the Marquis' livery rode up and informed Jack that his Master awaited him in the clearing. Samantha turned away as Jack spoke when a trail of climbing roses caught her eye. Her mind racing rapidly, she tore a blossom from the vine and wrapped it in the handkerchief. When the servant was gone and Jack turned back to her, she tucked the embroidered square inside his coat. She knew he wouldn't accept any tokens from her, so she took care to conceal the flower within the folds of the cloth.

"As soon as the duel is over, a servant will bring you word Samantha, but I don't want you there. It will distress you too much and distract me."

"Very well," she nodded reluctantly.

With a wistful sigh, Jack said, "I guess this is it."

Sam wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. "Promise me you'll come back."

Jack hesitated wavering between a kind lie and the truth. He settled for pressing his lips to hers one last time. "Good-bye my Samantha."

As he turned and walked away, Sam began to pray silently for her former enemy. Once he was out of sight, she walked into the house and sat on the bottom step. As she buried her face in her hands, she failed to notice her hand was bleeding from having been pricked on the thorns when she picked a rose for Jack...