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I let out a shriek and twisted away from them, swinging my leg until I felt it hit them. Conscious that I couldn't run forward in case the person in front, who now knew I was here thanks to my scream, was a foe I knew I was going to have to fight my way out of this corner. The person stumbled, their fingertips brushed against me. I kicked out again, hitting them in the stomach. In the gloom I saw that they were bent double, completely winded. Without really thinking about it I grabbed both shoulders and kicked them as hard as I could between the legs. The yelp they let out informed me that my opponent was male. I took a blind swing in the darkness and hit his jaw. While he was momentarily incapacitated I knocked him to the ground. I pinned him down and then panicked over the amount of time I had before the figure with the torch reached us. Unsure of what to do with the one I had pinned I settled for taking another swing at him.

I could hear him panting to recover. Knocking him to the ground had clearly winded him. He grabbed my arms. I struggled, squirmed and kicked as hard as I could. He pushed me. I resisted, but he managed to get out from under me. I bent my knee and slammed it into his ribs. His grip slackened momentarily and he cried out in pain. I tried again, but when I had concentrated all my effort on my legs he had managed to push my slackened upped body down onto my back. I twisted again and tried to kick him. He pinned down my shoulders. My arms were then free to punch him. It never occurred to me that he was not hurting me deliberately until he panted, "Stop… hitting… me… you… lunatic."

I stopped. "Jack?"

"Yes love," was the strained reply. I froze for a second. Then I hit him again. "Ouch."

"Sorry," I said almost immediately after I had done it. I wasn't really sure why I had done it. I couldn't see him in the dark, but I wished I could. I needed to see his expression. I reminded myself that I wasn't angry with him. I tried to stay calm and rationally work out what to do, how to act… But then I felt him kissing me in the dark and all reason went out the window. God knows how he managed to find my lips. I slapped him.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry," I said automatically, but I didn't mean it as much as I had the first time. He had to learn that he couldn't just kiss me with no explanation of whether he was staying or leaving me. There was a silence. I wondered how to ask him, what to say. Maybe I should just hit him again…

"Isabel?" a man's voice made me turn, confused. The torchlight was hurrying towards us. I had forgotten about the second mystery person. And he knew me too… oh good. "Isabel is that you?"

I squinted as the flickering flame cast light over Jack and I. A face loomed at us. "Fitzwilliam!" I gasped. What was my cousin doing here? His eyes were wide on mine for a second, then he looked outraged and disgusted. I felt offended until I realised he was looking at Jack. He sneered down at him. Beside me I heard Jack mutter "Bugger". I realised then how it would have looked. He had had his arms around me and he was the one pining me down and after the sounds of a struggle it would have seemed like he had been the one beating me up, rather than the other way around.

"Get off my cousin," Fitzwilliam spat out his disgust. Before we could move he had laid down his torch on the forest floor and pulled Jack up by his collar. I heard the click of a gun's safety and in a flash I was on my feet with my own gun drawn. Fitzwillaim pushed Jack to his knees before he felt the barrel of my gun at his neck.

"Step away from my husband," I said. There was a long silence.

"Your what?"

"My husband," I repeated calmly.

"He is your husband?" Fitzwilliam stammered, "But… but… he's a pirate."

"I know."

"And your husband?" he asked again, just to clarify.

"Yes," I nodded. "And I would much appreciate it if you didn't blow his brains out."

"I'd appreciate it too actually," Jack piped up. Fitzwilliam looked from me to him. "Especially since I am the father of the child she is now carrying."

I thought for a moment that my cousin was about to faint. He made a strange kind of choking noise before he whispered, "What?"

"You can't see it," Jack said wisely. "You wouldn't notice. It's inside her at the moment, but it is there. It is real and really there. Really, really real."

I couldn't tell if the last part was for the benefit of Fitzwilliam, or himself. Fitzwilliam looked at me. "Is this true? You're pregnant?"

I nodded, then realised it was probably too dark for him to see me. "Yes, I'm pregnant."

"And he," Fitzwilliam shook Jack roughly. "Is the father?"

"Yes."

It was then that Fitzwilliam fainted.

I leapt back as he landed on my feet. Jack stood up and brushed himself off. There was a long silence. The circumstances were so odd and I had no idea how to react, or what to say to him. Should I say anything at all? Time passed and neither of us spoke. I turned away from him, resigned to giving up. I started to walk away. What should I do about Jack? What should I do about my unconscious cousin? I wanted to cry, or scream… or even laugh. I bit my lip to hold in whatever it was that was trying to come out.

"Dad gave me your letter," he said.

I stopped. "Did you read it."

There was a pause, "Yes, love."

"Oh."

Silence. I wondered whether I should just keep walking.

"Did you mean what you wrote?"

This time, I turned. "Yes."

His outline walked towards me and picked up the torch that was still alight. I saw my letter in his other hand. It was open and I could see the writing, but couldn't make out the words. Not that I needed to, I knew what it said by heart. He shook his head, "I can't do this."