A/N because I can't even manage giving up properly.

"… and the Amazons told us that – oh never mind. I suppose I'm just talking a bit too much because I'm nervous."

Why on earth would Roger be nervous? And what extreme circumstance would force him to admit it?

"Nervous of what?"

"You might say no."

"I really like the idea of living in a houseboat. And I don't walk in my sleep or anything."

"That wasn't what I was going to ask." And it was an extra stillness about him that made her realise what he was going to say before he actually said it. She nearly said something then, nearly asked him to ask her later, not now, not when it would still feel so much like being rescued. But the possibility that she might be presuming too much and the soul-shrivelling awkwardness that that would cause kept her silent for a moment, so that before she had really made up her mind he had turned to her and said,

"Will you? Marry me I mean?"

And it was so very, very important not to say the wrong thing, not to make the mistake that there would be no going back from.

"I'm definitely not saying no."

There was a long pause. A very long pause. She tried to get her thoughts in order. She couldn't look up at him.

There was something different about Roger's voice; it was both gentle and ragged when he said,

"But you're not saying yes either, are you?"

That made her look up at him. And there was a lump in her throat and she dared not trust her voice. Rowan looked down again. She nodded her head slightly. She couldn't quite manage to stop the few shameful tears that would force their way past her eyelids. It seemed a very long time before he drew her head onto his shoulder. She put her arms round him and felt him stiffen slightly.

"Are you going to tell me why?" his voice was tense.

And she did. It came out jumbled, jumping backwards and forwards through time. And she started crying again and stopped.

"So you're saying." Roger said slowly, "that you don't want me as your husband because you think I might be a good husband?"

"It's not that …." This was all hopeless. You'd think I'd get used to pulling the wreckage of my life down around me.

"….. and I do want to be married to you, it's just that, well people…."Rowan trailed off again.

"That what other people say is more important. Thank you. I think I understand now."

"That's not what…" but he was already threading his way passed her suitcase and out on to the deck. She sat there for a moment or two, perhaps longer, because when she followed him out he was already in Swallow and hoisting the sail. She knew he knew she was watching him.

"I'm sorry."

She didn't say it very loudly, but he must have heard because he looked up and gave the smallest of nods before Swallow slipped away from the houseboat.