I didn't mean it to be any kind of cliffhanger. I thought that you'd all guess that Stephen would be able to save the boy's life. I actually changed this whole chapter around. It was just supposed to be a recap of what happened and how Christopher was injured, but those darn characters Rose and David don't seem to want to cooperate with me! I swear I hardly even know what the two of them are going to do sometimes.

Rosalyn Lavoisier, every time I see your name, I think of Antoine Lavoisier, the father of modern chemistry. Any relation?

Bean, good luck with the school year. I always find that the amount of work I have to do (no matter how little) expands to fill the time I have to do it. I have a math quiz tomorrow and I haven't even started studying...

The Truest Friend

The procedure had been difficult and the vigil long, but all had gone well and the signs were promising. Stephen had Christopher Stirling propped up on several folded blankets so that the fluid would run down from his head and prevent swelling. He checked the boy's pulse, which was slow and steady, then he felt his forehead. No fever.

In the predawn grayness, Tom Pullings made his silent way back to the surgery where Stephen sat alone. "I've brought you some vittles, sir," said the lieutenant, indicating a wooden platter covered with a rough cloth and a little tankard of ale. "Can't think you've eaten much since yesterday."

"How extraordinarily kind of you." Checking once more on his unconscious patient, Stephen lead Tom back to the little office that the Gallant's surgeon was allowing him to use.

"How is the young 'un?" Tom asked as the doctor began to eat. "He looks not too bad, all things considered, and… well, he is alive. That's more than we thought after the surgeon was through with him."

"He will live, I am almost certain." Stephen took a long quaff of ale. "The operation is not a new one, indeed, I have read about it in ancient texts, but it is not often performed. The boy is very young and should make a good recovery, but it is early yet. We shall see how soon he regains his senses."

"Rose finally fell asleep," said Tom. "Well, actually, we made her drink a fair bit of wine, and I think it was exhaustion that did it in the end. You have done a great service, doctor, for we all thought she would lose her mind. I think she might have, had you not been there. "

"I am glad that my humble services were effective," said Stephen. He took a deep drink and then brushed at his lips. "Mr. Pullings, could you tell me as much as you know about what occurred? I must own, I do not know any of it."

"Yes, sir, certainly. With the reports to the Admiral and hearing the others' stories, I've a better understanding of everything now, but if you'd asked me last night, I couldn't have told you."

"Has Colonel Pitt been taken alive?"

"Yes, sir, and he had nothing to do with the attack on the Gallant. You see, Captain Howard and our Royal Marines, along with the marines from the Gallant, went to arrest him and Old Frederickson. Captain Hawkes and I were sent to the magistrates to register the copies of the admiral's warrants. It seemed as if everything was going smoothly, but Captain Hawkes thought it was too smooth, for he was wary of the pirates of the Walrus who were here before us. He said that Rose had spoken to him the night before when he took her back to the Surprise, and some of the things she told him made him uneasy."

"I wonder what she told him," Stephen mused.

"I don't know, sir. Well, as you may be aware, Captain Hawkes has many, many friends and associates. He consulted with some men – you'd have to ask him who – and we learned that Old Bantam came and went in good faith without betraying Rose, giving the standard of the Crimson Rose and telling that she'd gone to the bottom of the sea, and the pirates were well-paid by Colonel Pitt. When the Walrus left, though, George Morton and some other men stayed, meaning to gain some revenge and the treasure that they thought was owed to them. He spread the word that Flint's treasure was aboard the Surprise, which was coming to port presently. Well, they were to attack the ship once the men had gone to arrest Pitt, board her, kill the hands that wouldn't join them, and take the ship with the treasure off to some secret inlet.

"Attack the Surprise?"

"That was the original plan, but when Morton saw Captain Hawkes, he told his men that it was Flint's son and that the treasure was aboard the Gallant. Morton thought Rose would be onboard as well and had designs to carry her off."

"Carry her off? Good heavens!" exclaimed Stephen. "But is it now common knowledge that Captain Hawkes is Flint's son?"

"No, sir, it is not. Leastways, not among the men, though some of the pirates seemed to know him. He told me that he had grown up with Morton and knew him very well."

"Knew Morton, eh? As Rose knew him in her youth. Interesting." Stephen took another sip of ale. "Pray, go on. What did you do when you learned of the plot to take the ship?"

"Well, we sent men to warn the Surprise, of course, and rushed back to the Gallant. When we got here, the fight was on. I think that Morton hadn't counted on such resistance from a handful of men and boys. That and he could find neither the treasure nor the lady. I cannot say precisely what happened before we arrived, sir, but the crew says the boys were fierce little fighters with young Mr. Stirling taking out quite a few boarders like a sharpshooter – a good eye and practiced hands, unlike the other mids.

"When we came aboard, there were already many dead or wounded. It was a bad fight, sir, and Captain Hawkes fought like a demon, a possessed man, even after he was wounded. When I followed him below, he had already come upon Morton who had a knife at the boy's throat, young Mr. Stirling's throat. I don't know how he recognized him. Perhaps someone called him Stirling, or perhaps he saw the likeness to Captain Stirling, for Captain Hawkes told me that the little boy looked exactly like his father. I can not say about that, but at the moment I came upon them, the villain was laughing and saying that his best revenge on poor Rose would be to kill her boy."

Stephen grimaced. Morton had certainly been right, for had the boy died, it would have destroyed part of Rose as they knew her.

"As for Captain Hawkes… well, sir, I ain't ever seen anything like it. Years ago, you may know, Morton and Rose quarreled and she shot him in the arm, or so Old Bantam told me, and told him she would shoot his balls off if he touched her. She must have told Captain Hawkes, for though he was already seriously wounded, he was cool as ice and sneered at Morton. He said that Rose couldn't have shot his balls off because he had none, that he was no man to have been bested by a woman, to have to resort to threatening a little child. Then, little Mr. Stirling – I don't know what he did, sir. He somehow grabbed Morton's knife and plunged it into his thigh. The brave little thing! Were his father alive, he would've been proud to see it. Morton crowned him with his pistol butt, then, and broke his little head, and Hawkes went after Morton in a rage. Killed him with his bare hands, he did, wrung his neck like a chicken, snapped it like a twig and told him to go to the Devil as he died. As I said, I've never seen anything like it."

"So Morton is dead," Stephen mused. "Does Rose know of this?"

"Yes, the admiral and Captain Hawkes talked with her. That, and there was quite a row between the captain and the commodore."

"A row? Between Hawkes and Commodore Bellows?"

"A vicious one, sir." Tom shook his head slowly. "I shall count myself lucky to never get on the bad side of Captain Hawkes."

Stephen smiled a little. "You are very brave, then, to willingly take him as a brother-in-law," he said, and the lieutenant grinned in response. "But, tell me, what was the argument about?"

"Captain Hawkes insisted that the older boy, Silvester, be released from service to the Coventry and come here to be with his mama. The commodore was having none of it, though. Oh, doctor, it was a rare foul row, and I thought Old Hawkes was going to call him out to a duel despite all his wounds. It was lucky that the admiral was there. He told them they were both cruel and thoughtless to be acting like strutting tomcats while poor Rose was out of her mind with worry and grief for the little boy. He was quite right, of course, and I thought he'd knock some sense into the two of them if he had to."

"Mr. Pullings, sir," said a man from the door. "You're needed on deck."

"Very well." Tom got to his feet. "Forgive me, doctor, but I think that's most of the story as I know it. I may have more to tell you later."

"Thank you, Mr. Pullings." Stephen sat finishing his meal as he turned over the incredible turn of events. There had been more than luck at work here, and he recalled Rose's gentle words: I'm sorry, Stephen, but your scientist's mind is too narrow to comprehend.

A few hours later, the surgeon came back on duty, but Stephen refused to leave his young patient yet. He hovered over the boy, determined, despite his exhaustion, to be there when the child awoke. The day was a long one, but at last Stephen saw Christopher Stirling open his eyes. The boy was weak and in pain, but there was no fever, so he sent a message to Rose that her son would live and that she could visit him now if she promised to be quiet and gentle: no kissing and petting of the injured boy.

In what appeared to be only a few seconds, the lady was there, pressing kisses upon the boy's hand and smiling at him in joy. Christopher recognized her, smiled, and was able to speak a little, very weakly. It was more than Stephen had hoped for, and he was finally satisfied that he could safely leave his young patient in the care of the surgeon.

As he prepared to take his leave, she asked him to wait a moment, and he did so in the little office, going over in his exhausted mind what he would tell her about the condition and the prospects for a full recovery. Never had he seen Rose look so haggard or sickly, but eyes were bright as she beamed at him. With great warmth, she came to embrace him and kissed him upon the face. "My dear, dear Stephen," she murmured, kissing his face and mouth while weeping and laughing. "My perfect, darling Stephen."

His knees weakened and he grasped round her with one arm while bracing the other against the table. She kissed him not hard nor deeply, but sweetly and with abiding affection, pressing soft little kisses against his mouth. Recalling the moment later, he wondered if she would have granted him anything he asked of her. He imagined she would have. As it was, awareness left him for a while and he kissed her back, savoring the mad perfection of the moment. It had been a long time since he had kissed a woman, and it overwhelmed him now.

An amused chuckled interrupted them. "If you would prefer a little privacy, by all means make use of my cabin."

Rose let go of him, and Stephen felt terribly drunk, as if he were reeling as they turned to face Captain Hawkes. "Fie, David, you are no sort of gentleman," she said. The scientist in Stephen found it remarkable that she could be so matter of fact and unaffected after such a warm flutter of kisses.

Leaning against the doorway, Hawkes grinned at the two of them. Despite his rather serious injuries, he looked quite nearly himself. "And you are just as wicked, if not more, little hypocrite. If you were not already engaged to a good man, I might have to insist that you marry the doctor."

Shooting him a look of disgust, Rose said, "Oh, go away, you rogue."

"Very well, but let me say my bit." Coming into the room, Hawkes shook the other man's hand firmly. "Well done, doctor, well done indeed," he said with a slight earnestness that seemed unusual for him. "Any man can take a life, but it is a miraculous few who can save a life. I am in awe, sir, in most humble and profound awe."

As had been the case from the moment he had first set eyes on the man, Stephen was impressed by his careless grace and fierce intensity. It now seemed ludicrous that anyone could see this man and not know that he was Rose's brother. "I am only grateful that it was not too late and that I arrived in time," he replied.

Hawkes smirked and arched a brow. "You are too modest, sir. I should like nothing better than to embarrass you all afternoon, but this shameless minx has done enough of that today. There's a bunk and a hot meal waiting for you when you're ready. You look fagged to death, if you don't mind me saying."

The last artless comment made Stephen laugh. Smooth, he thought, the man pretends to be rough but is really smooth as silk. "I am going to bed directly and shall probably sleep for the better part of the next day, sir."

"I am glad to hear it." Hawkes grinned and waggled his fingers at his sister. "And you behave yourself, lass, and don't think that our good doctor is to be a plaything for you." With a wink, he left the little office, and Rose sighed at his departure as one who was long suffering before turning back to Stephen.

"I am very sorry about that. He's a terrible rogue, and the woman that agrees to take him as a husband will have her hands filled," she began but when she looked at him, she smiled with her affection softening her eyes and expression. "However can I thank you for the life of my child?"

Not knowing what to say, he merely said, "Two things, my dear."

"Anything."

"The first is that you give your word that you will now eat and sleep properly for one in your condition."

"That is easily done."

"Also, you must tell Tom about the child."

"I shall," she promised, "but you ask very little."

"It is what I truly want from you. Now go back to the boy, and remember that he is to lie quietly for several days." Taking control of the situation, he kissed her formally upon both cheeks and departed swiftly lest he forget himself again. For sure, he was fervently relieved that Flint had not had any more children than those two.