Will walked Ana out to Mrs. Beatty's car himself, still not quite believing that she was going to spend a morning with that woman. Ana had tried to explain last night, talking about charity and caring for all the families that had lost a husband, father, brother, son, in the battle. He had brusquely replied that she would do more good for everyone by simply donating a large amount rather than subjecting herself to hours in the company of Ethel Beatty.

Ana had rolled away from him in bed at that, and he had to be quite persuasive to get her back into his arms.

The house was quieter with her gone, although Rigel was still around. That was pleasant, but Rigel wouldn't be much help for what Will had planned to do while Ana was gone. He grabbed a chair, settling it by the telephone and picked it up. It took a short while for him to get connected to London, but when it started ringing it was picked up quickly. A gruff voice sounded, "Vanderbilt residence."

Will cleared his throat, "Please tell Oscar that Captain Murdoch is calling."

"One moment, sir."

It was far less than a moment, and Will could swear he could hear the phone itself being fumbled for before Oscar spoke. "Will! Thank God, I mean, we knew you were all right but still, it's a relief to hear your voice."

Will took in a deep breath, "Oscar, I know."

"Well of course you know, we're talking."

"No Oscar, I know about you and Ana." The next words hurt, "That you kissed."

It was a long time before Oscar replied, Will could hear every breath. "Will, I'm sorry, it was wrong of me."

"It was cruel." Will spat, wishing that Oscar was in front of him so he could lay his hands on him. "She tortured herself after what you made her do!"

"Made her?" Oscar sounded incredulous, "I didn't make her do anything, Will. She kissed me!"

"You practically forced her into it." He growled, "Telling her how much you loved her, how hurt you were. What did you expect her to do, leave you in misery?"

"I never, ever, forced that decision on her! She did it of her own free will."

"How can you say you care for her when you forced her into that situation?" Will wished he could pace, "If you really did love her, you would never have done that!"

"I didn't!"

"You can forget our agreement in case I don't make it through this war, Oscar! I would rather she marry Charles Lightoller and let him walk around with two wives than be stuck with a horrible man like you!" For a moment, Will regretted his next words. "I certainly hope you're not going to treat this new girl like you treated Ana."

Oscar was quiet, his voice low. "You don't get to talk about Penelope like that, William. You've never even met her."

"Perhaps I'll make some confession to her and steal a kiss, would that make us even?"

"William-"

"Oscar," Will snapped, standing. "You will not contact Ana until we have settled this between us, face to face. Until then, I hope you're content with this Penelope."

Oscar was shouting now, "You can't control her, William! She isn't a slave!"

"She agreed to it, Oscar. Don't call her, don't write to her, don't run into her on the street, not until you've come up here and we have this out." Will had to stop himself from slamming the phone down, reminding himself that he would probably break it.

He buried his face in his hands, taking deep breaths. God, he wanted to strangle Oscar. He wanted to throw the man through a window and beat the daylights out of him. There was no desire to kill or maim him, but Will had no idea how else to get this anger out of him. He hated Oscar, hated the man.

He was only distracted from his thoughts by Rigel worming his head close enough that he could lick Will's face. He chuckled at that, ruffling the dog's ears. Throwing a stick for Rigel was a good way to work out his frustration, even if it meant that he was covered in sweat. when Mrs. Beatty's car pulled up and disgorged his wife. Ana wrinkled her nose as she walked up, "How long have you been out here?"

"A few hours." He shrugged, throwing the stick again. "Rigel needed to get exercised. Are you doing anything with him down in Southampton? He's getting fat."

Ana snorted, "He is not, he gets plenty of exercised. Besides, the Lightoller children run him ragged."

"So long as they're the ones exhausting him and not Nana." Will let her throw the stick this time. "The last thing we need is more puppies."

"Mother loves her puppy." She smiled down at Rigel, "At first she wrote about how she didn't need a puppy and the messes that would ensue. Now she writes to me about every little trick she does, she even sent a picture with her last letter."

Will ran a hand through his hair, "How is everyone back there?"

"They're doing well. Liz and James are apparently doting on little Richard, Zachary has no idea Sophie's boys aren't his and apparently the first time Morris saw them he cried for an hour. Ezekiel and Samantha are engaged, he's furious we won't make the wedding."

"He could always wait."

"Mother thinks there may be a reason the wedding is sooner rather than later."

"Hardly surprising," Will pressed a kiss to her cheek, laughing when she shoved his sweaty chest away. "You were enough to make me think about the benefits of a quick wedding."

"And yet you were the one to make sure I stayed celibate." Ana took his hand, leading all of them inside. "It's not that. Mother thinks America will enter the war soon, and if they do, there's likely to be a draft. Zeke wants to be married before, just in case."

"Ah," Will moved to the sink, rinsing the sweat from his face. "Have you heard anything about when to expect your people to join in?"

"Nothing official, it's all rumors." She sighed, sitting at the table. "Ethel was full of them."

"Rumors from America?"

"Rumors in general." She leaned back in her chair. "She's utterly convinced that Jellicoe was late arriving to the battle on purpose, and I am certain she's been talking to reporters about it. I swear, this charity meeting was more like a gossip section." Ana reached for the bag she had brought home though, pulling out a beaded purse. "We did decide on designs for fundraising though, look."

Will took the purse, examining it. It proudly bore the words 'The Lady Beatty Jutland Battle Fund' above a Union Jack, half a dozen other sayings joining it. Will pursed his lips, "'Remember the Lusitania'? You didn't have an issue with that?"

"I wasn't asked if I did." Ana shrugged, "But it will likely sell well, and the money is needed."

"I'd rather you make a donation than subject yourself to more time with her." Will set the bag down. "Is that possible?"

"It is, but this has made me think." Ana had a light in her eyes, and Will knew she was plotting something. "The wounded from the battle will all go to hospitals, and I can't visit them all to provide what help I can."

Will sighed, "Just say what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking that I should begin looking into expanding my charitable efforts." She smiled, "I could buy up old inns and hotels, hire nurses and doctors and provide a place for men who had to leave the hospital before they were ready to go back to work. And I can have people help with finding them work for when they're ready to leave."

He took her hand, kissing her knuckles. "You would be doing far more than Mrs. Beatty."

"You approve?"

"I think it's a wonderful idea, and that you are a wonderful woman for thinking of it."

"I've decided on a name, Murdoch Soldier and Sailor Homes, what do you think?"

Will blinked away a sudden rush of tears, "It's perfect." He stood, coming to hug his wife who squirmed in his arms. "What?"

"You're sweaty," She struggled away from him. "And you smell. Go take a show and you can hug me all you like."

"You could come shower with me."

She laughed, "God, you've been after me every day lately. Go take a shower and I'll consider bestowing my favors tonight."

Will smirked as he made for the stairs, because Ana was right. A night hadn't gone by that he hadn't had her at least once, and most days he found a moment or two to pull her into a corner for a kiss, or more. Everything was easier when he was in her arms, when he could just focus on the sensation of lovemaking or her touch.

Even when he had woken in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, convinced that he was back in the battle and the Unicorn had rolled over, her gentle hands had soothed him. She hadn't even asked him what his nightmare had been, only kissed his forehead and drawn his head down to rest on her breast.

He had rested easy after that.

In fact, the next several days were very restful. There really was nothing better than spending time with his wife, even if she kept her clothes on. Ana was already putting her plans for her charity homes into motion, she seemed to be on the phone all the time, but she always had a smile and a kiss for him.

He was enjoying a rare moment of her leaning against him, reading, when a knock at the door sounded. Ana was on her feet before he could even react, her head peeking through the door. "Yes?" Will couldn't quite hear the reply, but Ana glanced back at him before speaking. "He is, but I don't know if he's available."

Will waved his hand, "Let them in, so long as it's not a reporter."

"They're not," Ana stood aside, letting an older man and woman enter. Rigel perked up, coming over to sniff at them. Given that there was no growling, and that Rigel had begun to wag his tail, Will was certain the couple were not here to harass them.

The man stood, his hat in his hand. "Captain Murdoch, I…"

Will cleared his throat, gesturing towards the pair of chairs across from the settee. "Please, sit, Mr.-"

"Clarendon." The man sat, his spine straight. "Jerry Clarendon, and my wife, Lora."

"It's lovely to meet both of you." Ana said, sitting down next to Will. "What brings you over here?"

Lora lifted a handkerchief to her nose, sniffing. "Our son."

Will froze, watching as Jerry reached over to take his wife's hand. Jerry gave it a squeeze before turning back, "He was wounded during Jutland, he would have died if not for you."

Will swallowed, trying to find the words. "I, I was only doing what was right."

"We, we just wanted to thank you." Lora sobbed, dabbing at her eyes. "He's, he's going to have a difficult time, but otherwise he, he'd-" She broke off into another round of sobbing.

Ana glanced to him, her voice soft. "I'm glad my husband was able to save him."

"We also want you to have this." Jerry held out an envelope, and Will could tell it had cash inside it. "I don't know how else to do it."

Will held a hand up, "That's not necessary, my wife and I are very comfortable."

"Then my watch, it's not much but my father saved for it for months. It's real gold."

"Mr. Clarendon," Will stood, his hands held in front of him. "I didn't save your son for a reward, and I don't deserve one for simply doing what was right. He'll need that money more than I will, and you can pass that watch down to him."

Ana joined him, her arm wrapped around his. "If anything, we would like to send flowers to your son. Where is he?" Ana spoke gently, getting the details from his parents before leading them to the door. Will recognized the name of the hospital, he'd heard his surgeon talking about the progress they were making there in treating burns. Ana gave him a kiss before going back to the phone.

Will listened as she spoke to the hospital, not only arranging for flowers but for all his expenses to be billed to the company. It was easier to listen to her than to think about why that man was laying in that hospital bed, burns covering his body. Or think about how close Will had come to that fate. God, when he thought about how he'd stood calmly while the shells were whistling by it was enough to make his hands shake.

Damn, they were shaking. And when he tried to take a deep breath, it wouldn't come. He couldn't breathe, Christ, he couldn't breathe. He was drowning, he was under the North Sea and trapped and drowning and, and, and.

"Will, look at me!" Ana's voice cut through the fog, her hands around his. They were calm, holding his steady. "What's wrong?" He couldn't find the words, shaking his head. Ana pressed close to him, her arms around him. "Just talk to me."

"How do I keep getting through these events?" He whispered, clutching her to him. "Every time, it seems like I shouldn't but I get through. Titanic, Jutland, how many more do I have before my luck runs out?"

Ana squeezed him tighter, "I've been through them too."

"How, Ana? How do we always live, when so many others don't?"

"Maybe we're just too stubborn." She let out a bitter chuckle. "We just want to get back to each other too badly."

"Maybe we're cursed." Will muttered, although he felt Ana stiffen at that. "Cursed to keep on living and have everyone around us think us cowards."

"Cursed to have a future." Ana pulled back, her hands on his cheeks. "Cursed to have a family in a few years, cursed to be with people we love. I am glad to be cursed with that." Her touch was gentle on his face, "Will, talk to me, tell me what happened."

"I don't want to give you nightmares."

"I have nightmares enough already, you won't give me any more."

Bertie fidgeted in his chair across from Admiral Beatty who was leaned back and pondering the papers across his desk. "I have room on the Lion, you know. I'd gladly have you on, hell, I'll kick a few men off to make room for you."

Bertie grit his teeth, "I understand, sir, but I feel this would be best for me. I don't want any accusations of favoritism, against either of us."

"Surely being singled out by the hero of Jutland is only a benefit?" Beatty leaned forward, his eyes intent. "I promise nothing would happen."

Bertie hated it when people tried to weasel him into certain situations, especially when it was only for their benefit. "Sir, please, it's better for all of us for t-things to continue as they are."

"Surely you're going to tell Captain Murdoch."

"I am."

"Why don't we host a dinner? Ethel is already on her way, she wants to see you. I'm sure we could have something arranged for the end of the week."

Bertie stood, "Sir, I'm sorry, but I would prefer to tell the Murdochs in private. It's very k-k-kind of you to offer, but I must be going." He saluted, turned on his heel, and left the room before Beatty could try and ingratiate himself any further. He caught the eye of a man lingering outside the door, his plain khaki uniform standing out against the navy blue. "We're leaving, Colonel Macintosh."

"Yes, sir." The man, Colonel Ewan Macintosh, stood, adjusting the tartan cap on his head. "Where to?"

"We're off to see my new commanding officer." Bertie replied, following him downstairs and into a waiting car. The driver didn't need any instructions, Bertie had told him where to go already.

Macintosh rode in silence until they pulled up in front of the Murdoch house, eyeing it. "Shall I go in ahead of you, sir? It isn't secure."

Bertie clutched the leather case that had been in the car close to him. "I trust him, Colonel. Shouldn't one trust their commander?"

"Yes, sir." Macintosh held the door for him, leading him up the path to the door. "How shall I introduce you?"

"I'll introduce myself." Bertie did his best to stand taller, although all it did was make him aware of how narrow his shoulders were. "They have a large dog, but he's friendly."

"Shall I wait in the kitchen, sir?"

"W-wait where ever you like." Bertie reached out, giving a few weak knocks. They were answered quickly though, Anastasia beaming at him as she opened the door. He bowed, "Mrs. Murdoch."

"Lieutenant Johnson," She gestured for them to enter. "What a wonderful surprise, I'll fetch Will in from out back. He's gone mad for fishing. I swear, the Unicorn needs to go back into service before he cleans out the Firth."

Bertie waited with Colonel Macintosh in the parlor, the Colonel submitting to an inspection by Rigel. He was approved, the dog even licked his hand before showing his belly to Bertie, clearly wanting attention. Bertie had just knelt down to pet him when he heard a set of masculine steps, and he hurriedly stood at attention. "Captain Murdoch, sir."

Will waved him off, "We're beyond formality, Bertie."

"Not quite, sir." Bertie reached into the case, pulling out the first piece of paper. "I'm to join your officers."

Will took it, Anastasia reading over his shoulder. "Really? I had thought the Collingwood was a plum position. Not that I won't be glad to have you aboard, Bertie, but your career might not benefit from it."

Macintosh gave him a look, and Bertie's hand shook when he held out the second item from the case, a letter. "Sir, p-p-please, you need to read this." Will slit the envelope, pulling out the letter. Bertie followed his eyes, he already knew what it said. He'd seen his father write the damn thing.

Captain Murdoch,

I trust this letter will come as quite a shock, I am given to understand that my son has been communicating with you under an alias. He seems convinced that you have no idea of his true identity, which he views as a benefit. But if he is to serve under your command, then you should know his name. I am entrusting my son, Albert Frederick Arthur George, Duke of York, to your care.

My foolish boy wrote to me after the battle, threatening to resign his commission and join the flying corps in France unless I arranged for this transfer. Admiral Jellicoe fought me on this, he views it as some win for Beatty's group, but I am not doing this for politics. I am doing this to keep my son safe, and if he comes to harm under your watch, I assure you there will be hell to pay.

Kindest Regards,

George V, King of the United Kingdom and the British Dominions, Emperor of India

Anastasis was the one to speak first, her eyes wide. "Why didn't you say anything?" She suddenly blushed, "I'm not even sure how to address you. Lieutenant? Your Grace?"

Macintosh coughed, "Technically the correct term is Your Royal Highness."

"T-t-that," Bertie swallowed, his stutter thick. "W-w-won't be necessary. Please, call me Bertie."

Will set the letter aside, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Colonel, if we can have a moment." Bertie waited until Macintosh had stepped out of the room, his shoulders drooping as he turned to the couple. "Because everyone else knew and it was a blessing to have two people treat me as a simple officer." He shifted on his feet, looking to Will. "Because everyone assumes that since I went to Osborne I must know everything, and they wouldn't help. You did, even when you didn't know who I was. I finally had someone willing to help me."

Will sat, Anastasia joining him. She gestured to a chair, "Bertie please, sit. You'll have to forgive us, this is a lot to take in."

He sat, watching the two of them. "I didn't d-d-do this to try and fool you. I just, it felt good to not be Prince Albert."

"I can understand." Anastasia said, smirking when her husband turned to her with a rather incredulous look. "Oh, like you didn't enjoy coming to Southampton where you could get away from the excesses of New York? Even I like that, just to have an escape. That's all he wanted, Will."

Her husband sighed, smiling. "I know." He looked back to Bertie. "Who else knows?"

Bertie cleared his throat. "Admiral Beatty, Admiral Jellicoe. Lord Fisher. Some people will likely figure it out, sometimes they publish our pictures in the paper."

"I'll do my best to see that it's kept quiet onboard." Will looked toward where Colonel Ewan had tucked himself away. "Will he be joining you?"

"No, he's a bodyguard for when I'm traveling." Bertie shrugged, "Father insisted he accompany me when I'm not onboard."

Anastasia smiled, "Would the two of you care to join us for dinner? Will caught plenty of fish today, I can set it to bake and make a few other things to go with."

Bertie blinked, it sounded much better than dining with the Beattys. "So long as we're not upsetting any plans."

Will laughed, "The entire time I've been home I haven't woken up with a plan for the day. It's been nice."

"Well, that will change soon." Anastasia took his hand, glancing to Bertie. "Will was notified that the Unicorn should have her repairs completed by next week, so he'll be going back onboard."

Will must have noticed how his wife's eyes were shining. "I'll have time off soon enough, we can see each other soon."

Bertie nodded, "It's unlikely there will be another battle, not after the drubbing we gave each other. If Admiral Beatty can find time to play tennis every morning then I'm quite sure Captain Murdoch can be allowed a day or two to see you."

"Tennis?" Anastasia stood, coming to take Bertie's arm and lead him toward the dining table. "Now this I have to hear."

"Don't you have to cook?" Will teased, following them. "Or are you planning to make your poor husband put on the apron?"

Anastasia sighed, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, you men. It would be better to gossip over a glass of wine anyway. Will, perhaps you could find a bottle that suits everyone's taste while I slave away over a hot stove."

Will snorted as she moved past him to the kitchen, turning to Bertie and the Colonel. "Gentlemen, what wine do you all prefer?" Bertie managed to stammer out his preferences, while Colonel Ewan seemed uncomfortable at the prospect of eating at the same table. Bertie had just turned to tell him he could consider dining with them an order when the phone rang, Will stepping past him to answer, a bottle of wine in his hand.

He had a smirk on his face after picking it up. "Why Mrs. Beatty, what a pleasure." There was a pause, and Bertie saw Will pull away the phone away so he could snicker. "Why no, I haven't seen Lieutenant Johnson, oh, I'm sorry, Prince Albert. He stopped by to break the news and then headed out for dinner." Will rolled his eyes, "I'm afraid I haven't the foggiest on where he was headed." He hung the phone up after, chuckling. "I think she actually threw the phone down."

Bertie swallowed, "C-captain, I don't mean to make t-trouble."

"You're not." Will shook his head, "I have a strange feeling you'd much rather dine here than at her house." He held out the wine, "Pour a few glasses, I've got to tell Ana about that."

"I thought Mrs. Murdoch preferred to gossip over dinner."

"Oh she does, but she's going to need fair warning, because I have a feeling Ethel will be paying a number of calls on her. Or attempting to, at least."