A/N: Looks like there will be another two chapters after this one and I'm already at work on them. I hope you enjoy the latest!

"Ouch!"

Abigail pulled her finger from under the thick fabric she was mending to put her recently pricked finger in her mouth.

"Good heavens, Miss Pemberton," Mrs Porter said giving her a funny look. "That's the third time you've done that this morning, something on your mind?"

"No, no," Abigail said smiling a little. "Just…didn't sleep very well last night."

"Oh, I understand. I cannot wait to be on dry land again," Mrs Porter said before she launched into her usual complaints about sea travel.

Abigail tuned her out for the most part. However, she had to admit that the other woman had been correct, something was most certainly on Abigail's mind.

Said something was a very tall, very tan, very inscrutable man who could turn all of Abigail's thoughts and plans and insides into pure jelly. It was an attraction wrapped up in shared confidences and she truly didn't know what to do with any of it.

It wasn't just the kisses they'd shared, she told herself. Well, it wasn't just the kisses they'd shared. It was the way he looked at her as though she was someone to listen to, someone who mattered. It shook her deeply and in some ways, it frightened her. She'd been the focal point of a man's madness before and while this was nothing like that experience, Abigail felt terribly out of her depth.

She also feared that she'd be quite willing to give up a great deal if he asked her to.

Which he most likely wouldn't, but the thought worried her all the same.

"Miss Pemberton?"

Abigail came back to herself and met Mrs Porter's concerned gaze. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, my dear, whatever is the matter?" Mrs Porter asked, setting her own mending down. "You looked a hundred miles away. Are you well?"

"Yes, I'm fine, truly," she said as she tried to smile. "My mind is simply occupied with thoughts."

"You're worried about meeting this new family of yours, aren't you?" Mrs Porter said nodding. "Well, family's family, is what I always say. You're a nice, respectable, quiet young woman, they'll welcome you with open arms."

"That's very kind of you to say," Abigail said, uneasy with the compliments. "It isn't meeting them that's worrying me."

"Ah, the land," Mrs Porter said. "Well, my dear, I'm sure the menfolk will have it in hand."

Abigail frowned. "I want to learn, however. It's in my name, surely I should have some input."

"I hardly think they'll let you get a word in edgewise," Mrs Porter said a bit wryly. "Men tend to take charge in these matters. And especially as you're coming to them on your own, with no knowledge of the lay of the land, so to speak, I'm afraid you'll have your work cut out for you in persuading them to let you assist."

Abigail paused, her needle halfway through the material. The idea that her family wouldn't listen to her hadn't occurred to her. She nearly rolled her eyes at herself. Of course, they wouldn't listen to her. As far as they knew, she was only a spoiled young woman who had left potential prospects in America after her father was murdered by pirates. They'd never met her, and had most likely never known her mother after she had grown.

Panic and despair filled Abigail's chest and she struggled to maintain her composure as her uncertainty burned behind her eyes.

"Now," Mrs Porter continued utterly unaware of Abigail's distress, "It'd be a different matter if you had a husband."

"Would it?" Abigail replied a bit dully.

"Oh, yes," she said. "You know how men are. Only ever listen to other men even when it's us women who often know the way of things." She glanced up at Abigail. "You need a husband, Miss Pemberton if you want to get anything done your way."

Abigail stared at her and then said, "I…don't think that's likely to happen."

"Nonsense!" Mrs Porter said smiling and patting her hand. "You're a lovely young girl. A bit too independent, yes, but some men like that." Her gaze went a bit distant. "Mine certainly does."

"You're very lucky," Abigail said softly.

"And don't I know it," Mrs Porter said, she glanced at Abigail and she tutted. "Oh, I don't mean to worry you, dear. But you know how people need to see a man before they can even think of seeing the woman?"

"Yes," Abigail said with a sigh. "Yes, I'm afraid I do know that."

"And being married not such a bad thing, you know," Mrs Porter said. "I can say with some certainty that there are some lovely aspects to the entire institution."

Abigail tried to hide her smile. "Mrs Porter, I believe you're simply teasing me at this point."

"It's a married woman's prerogative," she replied winking at her and Abigail couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her. Mrs Porter joined in and that was how Mr Porter and their son found them a few moments later, still giggling over their mending.

"Uh oh," he said grinning. "When two females are carrying on like that, it usually spells trouble."

"And here I thought that was your name," Mrs Porter said smiling up at him as he chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Abigail ducked her head, still smiling as the family chatted amongst themselves, their son happily showed his mother the knots he'd learned to tie. The worry from earlier returned to Abigail's chest, along with a longing that seeing the Porters together only amplified.

She hadn't even considered marriage, let alone a marriage like the one the Porters enjoyed; one of laughter and affection. But now that Mrs Porter had planted the seed in her mind, Abigail longed for companionship. Billy's face flashed in her mind. Her skin tingled as she recalled how his hands had lifted her as though she weighed nothing, how his mouth had moved over hers, how he pitched his voice low when he spoke to her, and how he listened as though she was someone worth hearing.

She shook her head as she frowned and ignored the pang of envy at the familiar ease the Porters had with one another. Whatever it was that was occurring between herself and Billy, it most likely wouldn't lead to what the Porters had. The last thing that Billy Bones would ever do was propose marriage to her. She had to put that particular idea out of her head.

No, she'd carry on as she'd intended and simply hope that her family would be more open-minded than Mrs Porter posited.

As she mended and did her best not to stab her finger anymore, she wondered if she'd ever come to believe herself.

Abigail stepped out of her cabin and walked up the stairs to the deck on silent, slippered feet. She hadn't spoken to Billy since the night he kissed her, but he'd found her eyes earlier and nodded ever so slightly.

While she wasn't exactly well-versed in the ways of secret rendezvous, she threw caution to the wind and hoped that nod meant to find him later that night.

She crept towards the railing that she'd come to consider her own, but before she could reach it, a strong arm stole around her waist and pulled her into the shadows.

With a gasp, she turned and smiled when she saw it was him. He barely smiled himself before he kissed her. She rose up on her tiptoes and cupped his face in her hands. His beard tickled her palms and she hummed against his lips.

"This is a horrible idea," he murmurs.

"I know," she murmurs back. "I never used to make horrible ideas. I find I'm quite enjoying this one, though."

He chuckled into her mouth before he lifted her to sit on the barrel as he'd done the other night. This time, she didn't flinch when his hand curled around her waist and tugged her close. His mouth pressed kisses against her cheek and then down the length of her throat and Abigail let her head fall back as he moved. She had no idea anything could feel like this. Her heart beat so fast and her pulse pounded in her ears, she worried the entire ship would feel it.

He lifted his head and pressed his forehead to hers, lazily she opened her eyes to find him staring intently at her. She blinked and cupped his cheek.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I've…" He swallowed. "I've never felt anything as soft as you." He lifted a hand and slid it alongside her cheek. "As smooth as you." His eyes darkened. "As fucking sweet as you."

His mouth descended on hers once more and she was swept away. There was a difference to this kiss. She felt it in the way his mouth moved roughly over hers, the way his fingers dug into her sides. It felt dark and possessive and heaven help her…she wanted more.

Her head fell back once again with a gasp and she clutched him to her as his lips trailed along her throat. She felt the slightest sting of his teeth along her skin and her legs rose to curl around his hips without her meaning to. He rocked against her and she bit her lip to hold in the mad sounds that threatened to emerge from behind her teeth.

His mouth found hers again and he swallowed the sounds with his kiss and all Abigail could do was hold on.

All of a sudden, he stilled and his hands tightened painfully on her waist. She stared up at him when he lifted his head and stared at the darkness.

She heard someone heading their way, whistling cheerfully.

Billy held a finger up to his lips and she nodded, then he slipped away, out of the shadows. She pressed trembling fingers to her lips and closed her eyes as she tried to calm her breathing.

"Gates," a light voice called. "Didn't know you were on watch?"

"Timms," Billy replied. "I'm not. Just needed some air."

"I hear you," the other man said and Abigail heard the strike of a match. "Think that storm's going to come to pass, or will it skirt by us?"

"Think we've outrun it by now," Billy said. "But we're getting closer to England, we'll be feeling the gales soon enough. They're enough of a challenge without the rain."

"Your mouth to God's ears," Timms said chuckling.

Abigail remained as still as she could while the other men chatted about the winds and wondered how long it would be before she could move.

"Saw you talking to Givens earlier," Billy said. "Lad looked troubled. Anything to worry about?"

"Nah," Timms said before puffing on his pipe. "The lad's worried about going back to England. Been awhile since he's been there and he was worried about the gangs coming after him again."

Abigail closed her eyes and could practically feel the tension and anger in the pause Billy gave before he said, "He was impressed?"

"Half the younger lads onboard were," Timms said. "Told Givens not to worry, that he had a place with this crew, he'd be looked after. Didn't even have to go ashore if he didn't want to."

"Good of you," Billy said and she pictured him with narrowed eyes and jaw clenched. "Not all of them make it to a good crew."

"Speaking from experience, eh?" Timms said and when Billy didn't answer, he continued, "Yeah, well, I was lucky enough to choose this life. The lads that don't get that. Christ, they're half-starved, feral little things once the Navy's done their worst."

"It'll carry on," Billy said. "While Spain continues to rattle their sabres, England'll keep stealing boys off the street to fill the ranks. Fuck, has no one stood up against it yet?"

"Who's going to take on the Royal fucking Navy?" Timms asked. "Nah, a revolt'll only get you dead bodies in the street. And who the fuck listens to rabble like us? Things'll only change when you get the lords and whatnot on our side. People with land and money. And good fucking luck to that."

"Yeah," Billy said quietly. "Fuck."

"Fuck, indeed," Timms said. "Reckon you've seen your fair share of violence in the streets, yeah?"

"Too much," he replied. "Starting to think there has to be a better way, but fuck if I know what that is."

"Well, when you figure out how to get the lofty sorts to listen to us lower classes, you let me know," Timms said. "I got a word or two I'd like to share with them."

"You'll be the first I tell," Billy said chuckling.

"Better go relieve Carter before the man starts whinging," Timms said. "Good night to you, Gates. And to you, Miss Pemberton."

Abigail froze and then called back softly, "Good night, Mr Timms."

She heard something that may have been Timms clapping Billy on the shoulder, but she was too busy squeezing her eyes shut in a daze of embarrassment and amusement.

Eventually, she felt Billy come close and she looked up at him. Luckily, he looked more amused than concerned.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Are you?" she replied.

"My reputation isn't the one that'll suffer here, Abigail," he said lightly touching her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"No, it'll be Miss Pemberton's," she said smiling a little. "I'm all right, Billy."

He sighed and nodded, before looking away.

"It bothers you," she said. "The fact that they still impress young boys."

"I'd almost forgotten it was still something that happened," he said frowning. "Isn't that fucking terrible of me?"

"I imagine you've had your mind full of other terrible things these past years," she said sliding off the barrel. "What will you do? When we reach England?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I hadn't thought that far. Find another ship, maybe. Head east." He winced and his hands flexed at his side. "I can't start another war, Abigail. I can't."

"No one is saying that you have to," she said placing a hand on one of his fists.

"I know," he said looking at her. "But who's going to speak for them?"

She had no answer and just stood there, her hand on his for several long moments. After awhile, he cupped her hand and lifted it to his mouth where he pressed his lips to her palm and breathed in.

"Roses," he murmured against her skin, before he pressed a kiss to her index finger that had hardened after all her mending. "With petals made of iron."

She laughed. "Hardly. But thank you."

"You should go below," he said and she nodded.

"I know." She paused and then rose up to kiss his cheek. "You're a good man, Billy Bones."

The smile that crept across his face made her eyes burn with tears. "I'm not. Not at all. Don't go thinking that I am, Abigail."

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but he pulled her to him and crushed his lips to hers. Her head swam as he kissed her relentlessly over and over and she just did her best to weather the storm.

The following day found Abigail with absolutely no mending to do. She remained below in her bunk for a good portion of the day thinking about what she'd don when they reached England. She had some money and would find a way to get to her family's land, but beyond that she wasn't sure. Mrs Porter's mention of a husband had stayed with Abigail and she worried that the other woman had a very valid point. What if her family didn't believe her? What if they were the same type of people as the Blakes? What if…?

Abigail got to her feet and hurried from her bunk. She refused to dwell on what-if's, they did no one any good. She emerged into sunshine and blinked at the brightness of the day. Making sure to keep out of everyone's way, she made her way to the upper deck. The captain nodded at her and she nodded back. Eventually she found a place beside the railing and looked out over the ocean. White capped waves stretched on towards the horizon and she breathed in.

"I trust the men haven't taken advantage of your sewing skills to excess?" a voice asked.

Abigail smiled and looked at Captain McGann who had just joined her. "Not at all. They've been very polite and honestly, I'm grateful to have something to do."

He nodded as he looked at his crew hard at work. "Idle hands have never set well with me, either."

"Your crew is very diligent," she said. "I don't think I've ever had such a smooth sailing."

"They're a good lot," Captain McGann said proudly, his chest puffing a little. "Some of the younger lads board with fanciful ideas of being pirates, but we put that thought out of them quickly."

"I'm sure," she murmured. "I understand that a number of them were impressed into service initially."

McGann's expression clouded. "Yes, I'm afraid that's true. While I'm all for serving His Majesty, I do take strong opposition to the press gangs." He shook his head. "Beating a lad into submission is no guarantee for loyalty."

"I'm surprised it continues," she said watching the men scale the rigging.

"There's never a shortage of enemies, Miss Pemberton," he replied. "Spain is ever on our minds. And even with the pirate rebellion subdued, that certainly doesn't mean they no longer exist." He smiled a little. "But this is hardly suitable conversation."

"Of course," she said as demurely as she could. "But, if I may, have you ever encountered any pirates?"

"Once," he said chuckling. "They boarded, took the provisions, and left." He shook his head. "In truth, I've had worse experiences with the Royal Navy." He looked dismayed. "Miss Pemberton, you mustn't think-"

"I think nothing of the sort, sir," she said. "I've had some dealings with officers in the past; they can be very…single-minded."

"Yes," he said. "And excellent term." He sighed. "It isn't as though most captains I know haven't considered piracy. But I've a family, a name, and a ship. I have something that anchors me to this world. Pirates do not."

He lifted his head. "Ah, Mr Borden has my maps ready. Good day, Miss Pemberton."

"Good day, captain," she said as the man walked away.

Her gaze was inevitably drawn to the rigging and the large form of the man who occupied so much of her thoughts. He was perched on the foremast talking to a very young lad that Abigail thought could be the young Givens Mr Timms had mentioned the evening before. The young lad stared up at Billy and eventually Billy patted his shoulder. Givens nodded and then, easily shimmied down the rigging to the deck below. Abigail looked back up at Billy, who stared out at the sea. Eventually, he also swung his way back down to the deck.

She wondered what he was thinking of and what he'd do when they reached England. He said he wasn't ready for another war.

Heat filled her body when she recalled his kisses from the night before, the desperation and the restrained passion she'd sensed in his hands. She worried that he'd find some dark path and simply…slip down it without even realising what he'd done. She wondered if there was anything at all she could do.

Don't be silly, she thought. You have your own hands quite full of your own problems. Don't go borrowing another's simply because you like the way he looks at you. And listens to you. And touches you. Oh, you're hopeless. Even if you wanted to help, what could you possibly offer him-

An idea struck Abigail hard and sharp in her chest. She nearly gasped at the audacity of her mind to suggest such a thing, but… What if…?

I thought you told yourself no more what-if's? she thought. Although, the idea could be…a good one.

Plucking up some courage, she made her way to the small passageway along the edge of the upper cabin and worried her lip.

You've gone mad, Abigail Ashe, her mind whispered. Stark, raving mad. Do not do this!

When Billy appeared, she straightened and he stopped. His forehead creased with concern.

"Are you all right?" he asked coming to her, scanning the area around them.

She nodded. "Yes, I…" She squeezed her eyes shut. "I have something to ask you, but I fear this isn't the best location. Would you come to my cabin later?"

His eyes widened. "Abigail," he breathed.

"No, not like that, I'm not propositioning you," she said quickly, her face flaming with embarrassment. "I simply have…something to discuss. Please?"

He stared at her and then slowly nodded. "I'm on first watch, so it'll be well after midnight before I'm free."

"That's fine," she said trying to smile. "I shall see you then."

Without another word, she slipped past him and headed back to her cabin. Once inside, she pressed her hand to her mouth and wondered what on earth she was thinking?

"What if he says 'no'?" she murmured aloud.

Oh, my girl, her mind whispered back. What if he says 'yes'?

Later that night, after a very small meal, Abigail paced in her cabin. She crossed the tiny space over and over and replayed what she would say to Billy when he arrived. She considered dozing as it would be some time before he came, but decided against it. Her nerves were strung too tightly to even contemplate sleep.

She heard the watch bells chime and froze mid-pace. Turning towards, the door, she clasped her hands together and waited.

A soft tap eventually sounded at her door and she rushed to open it. Billy came in, his expression wary and goodness, he certainly took up a great deal of room. She'd known her cabin was small, but now it seemed unbearably tiny.

"Are you well?" he asked softly, his voice low. "Has someone been bothering you?"

She shook her head. "No, no. Everything is fine. I simply…" She took a deep breath. "I have something to ask of you and I'd appreciate it if you'd let me get everything out before you say anything, is that all right?"

Still bewildered, he nodded. "Of course."

"Very well," she said as she stood tall and looked him in the eyes. "It has been brought to my attention that although I have honest and legal claim to whatever it is that awaits me in England, my family there may be hesitant to accept me as a woman alone. In fact, it could be supposed that they will think rather ill of me should I turn up unaccompanied on their doorstep." She swallowed. "It has also occurred to me that while you have no desire to engage in another war, there are many things that you would like to see changed and I wondered if you'd considered alternative methods."

He looked confused but didn't say anything, so she continued.

"By alternative methods, I'm referring to politics," she said, fighting the urge to throw herself upon herbed and forget she ever started this, but her courage prevailed. "If you were a landowner, you would have some degree of clout in certain decisions made and would be able to influence certain things."

She drew a breath and lifted her chin. "I…propose a partnership. Between yourself and I." Her courage finally dwindled and she looked down. "Marriage. Would you consider marrying me?"

Silence reigned in Abigail's cabin. She could hear the crash of the waves against the hull and the thrum of her heart in her chest.

Unnerved by the silence, she lowered her eyes and plucked at her skirts as she added, "It wouldn't have to be a traditional union, if you don't care for one. It could truly be in name only. I wouldn't even dream of being so bold with a gentleman, but I believe there is… a measure of esteem and, um, affection between us. I…think this could be beneficial for us both."

After another long moment, she lifted her eyes to his.

Billy stared at her with wide eyes and an unreadable expression. He cleared his throat and said, "Did… You want to marry me?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "As I said, it wouldn't have to be a conventional marriage," she said haltingly. "I don't suppose you to be in love with me and I'm certainly not above admitting that I'm being incredibly selfish with this request. I have no idea what your plans are and I don't wish to insinuate myself into them. If you wished to remain at sea, then of course, you would do as you wished. I only ask because… Well, because, you seem as adrift as I am."

Something in his posture relaxed when she said that and something within her relaxed in response.

"Abigail," he said as he looked down at his hands. "I've killed men. I've killed so many men. Some that deserved it and some that didn't. I've betrayed people, I've stolen, I've…" He swallowed hard and lifted his eyes to hers. "I promised my brothers that I'd protect them. That I'd never betray their trust in me. And at the first chance at revenge, I betrayed them. Christ, Abigail, the things that I've done." He stepped towards her and she held her ground, her head tipped back, her eyes still on his. "They'll catch up to me in the end. Because they always do. And they'll catch up to whoever has the bad fortune to be with me. And I couldn't bear it if something happened to you as a result of my actions. You've been through too much of your own shit to have to deal with mine."

"I see," she said after awhile. She looked down. "I understand."

"Fuck," he muttered and took her hand in his. "You have to understand, there is a part of me that is aching to say 'yes' to this mad scheme of yours." She lifted her head and he smiled. "A man would have to be insane to not want to say 'yes'. And I'm many things, but I'm not mad. Well, not yet."

"You seem to be in possession of most of your faculties," she said as she smiled a little. "Billy, I'm not afraid. Not of your past."

"You should be," he said his hand tightened around hers. "You truly should be." He closed his eyes and asked, "Would this marriage honestly help you?"

"Yes, I believe so," she replied. "This world isn't very accepting of a single woman attempting to do things her own way. It's entirely possible the name alone would help. And I have no one else I'd even consider approaching with this. In truth, you're the only man I know that I trust."

He snorted, but didn't release her hand. "You seem…very pragmatic about this. I always assumed ladies had more fantasies."

"I suppose I did at one point," she said curling her fingers around his. "When Ned Low kidnapped me, he shot everyone on the ship. Every sailor, passenger, everyone." She closed her eyes, remembering all the screams, the cries, the smell of blood. "And then when he had me on his ship, he let his men throw me around like some kind of ragdoll in a horrible version of pass the parcel." Her lip trembled but she looked Billy in the eyes. "They threw me to him and he said that the only thing that stood between them and my virtue was his good graces. Then they drugged me and left me in a cell. I'd wake up to see him sitting next to me, running his hands through my hair." She set her jaw. "No man asides from my father had ever touched me before. Most of my fantasies evaporated away on that ship."

He stared down at her and his mouth twisted as he said, "Never have I appreciated Charles Vane more."

"Those were my sentiments when he told me what he'd done," she said. "I rather think I surprised him for a moment."

He smiled briefly, then gusted out a breath. "I should say 'no' to this, Abigail."

Her heart thudded in her chest. "'Should'?"

"Yes," he said nodding. "I should say 'no' and let you go your way while I go mine, but…" He winced. "I find I can't bring myself to say it." Abigail's breath caught in her throat and her fingers tightened on his. He looked at her. "Let me think on this. I'm not trying to deflect or draw this out, I just-"

"Wish to make an informed decision," she filled in. "I quite understand. Take as much time as you need." She laughed lightly. "You know where to find me."

He met her eyes and shook his head. "Are you sure you wish this for yourself, Abigail? No matter how we manage a, uh, marriage together, it has the distinct possibility of going sideways in a hurry."

"I'm sure," she said. "I truly am."

"Then I'll…" He shrugged. "I'll find you, yeah?"

"Yes," she said as she smiled.

Billy lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles, then he slipped out of her cabin.

Abigail stood in her cabin, frozen in place, her hand still aloft in the air. Then, with a sigh of relief and anxiety, she curled up on her bed and didn't sleep the rest of the night.

Abigail spent the next mending and fretting. Luckily, on the outside, it merely appeared as though she were concentrating on the fabric she held on her lap. However, her inner thoughts spun like whirlwinds. She had a hard time believing that she'd honestly asked Billy to marry her. But she had an even harder time believing that he hadn't said 'no'. At least, not outright.

She caught glimpses of him throughout the day until the weather turned too windy for her to mend easily on deck, so Abigail retreated to the quiet of her cabin.

Not hungry, she waved off Mrs Porter when it was time for their evening meal, and pled a headache. She figured that Billy would most likely need a decent amount of time to come to a decision, so she made ready for bed.

Clad in her chemise, with her documents still in the secret pocket in the front, she tried to sleep. She tossed and turned fitfully before she drifted off.

"Abigail," a low voice said in her dreams. "Abigail?"

She hummed and turned her face into her thin pillow.

"Abigail." A warm hand cupped her shoulder and shook it ever so slightly.

Her eyes opened.

Candlelight filled her cabin and she turned to find Billy crouched beside her bunk. It was his hand on her shoulder.

She sat up, her blanket fell to puddle in her lap. "Oh!"

"I'm sorry," he said as he held his hands up. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," she said, her hand going to her chest as she realised that she sat before him in only her chemise and that the shoulder had slipped in the night, exposing a great deal of her pale skin. "I didn't expect you."

He chuckled. "I'm sure. I mean, of course, you didn't. Why should you?"

"Yes," she said smiling slightly. "Oh, are you all right? Why…?"

"Why have I come?" he said and his forehead furrowed. "I, ah, well." He stood up and turned away, and then back towards her. "I originally came to tell you 'no'."

"Oh," she said, her voice small. "I, yes, of course."

"Abigail," he said and she looked up. He crouched back down beside her bed. "I said that I originally came to say 'no'. That was my intention when I entered your cabin, but…"

"But?" she repeated, scarcely daring to breathe.

"Did you know that you have Lyra on your skin?" he asked and his hand lifted to trace a shape on the curve of her shoulder. "You have six freckles in the perfect shape of the stars."

The pad of his finger slid across, then down, then across again and down. She shivered at his touch.

"I always felt such pity for Orpheus," she said. "He lost Eurydice simply because he looked back for her."

"Well, he was warned against it," Billy said, his finger tracing the shape of the constellation over and over on her skin.

"But he only wished to be sure of her," Abigail said. "He'd been through so much, he only wanted reassurance that she'd be near him always. He shouldn't have been punished for that."

He stared at her for a long moment before his hand cupped her face. "I'm not a good man, Abigail, I've told you that. I have no idea how to be a husband. I have no idea what good this will truly do you, and I'm terrified that this will spell the end for both of us. And yet…"

"And yet?" she whispered.

"And yet," he said his voice low and warm as his thumb smoothed over the apple of her cheek. "I'll marry you, Abigail Ashe. But only if you'll marry me in return."

She smiled as she turned her head to press a kiss to his palm. "I'll marry you, Billy Bones."

"We're mad, you know?" he said before he captured her mouth with his own. "Fucking mad."

Abigail couldn't reply manage a reply as a surge of fierce relief had swamped her, so she simply curled herself as close to him as she could manage.

It'd been a lark. Some kind of wicked impulse that led him to say he was Billy Bones. Just another way to get a free drink or two. But those drinks had turned into five and then a dozen and well, he'd always been good at telling tales.

"You're a wicked boy," his mam had always said. "Telling those tales'll get you into trouble."

She wasn't wrong, the man with brown eyes thought as the pressure intensified on his throat and blackness lined the edge of his vision.

He looked at the piercing blue eyes of a furious and slightly crazed Ben Gunn and tried not to smirk, hand to God, he tried. But, as his mam had said, he was a wicked boy.

"You're not Billy," Gunn said pressing his arm that much harder against his throat. "You're a fucking liar and you'd better crawl back to whatever hole you crawled out of. You're not getting a bit of it. Not one fucking coin, you hear me?"

The man did his best to nod and eventually, Gunn removed his arm and he fell to the floor. Coughing, he looked up at Gunn who sneered.

"It's only because I know that he'll eventually catch up to you that I'm going to let you live," he said. "Keep calling yourself Billy Bones and mark my words, he'll come for you. Like he comes for everyone who betrays him."

Ben Gunn spat at the brown eyed man's feet and then lurched away.

The man watched him go. Then he got to his feet and decided to try his luck back in England. Nassau had a way of creeping into your bones and he needed some place new to win over.

He wondered if the name Billy Bones worked the same kind of magic in the old country as it had in the New World?