The truth was, she did not especially care what Adam MacKay's fate might turn out to be at Nathaniel's hands.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite so enlightened and rational as I once was," she said. "You will do what you must."

"And so will you."

"Of course."

She thought he would be angry at her refusal to agree to stay out of this trouble, but he slipped his arms around her from the back and kissed her jaw. His breath was warm at her ear, and deep in her belly there was a quick blossoming of nerves. She turned in his arms, and he came up tight against her.

"What have I done to bring this on so suddenly?"

His lips at her ear, and a shudder of gooseflesh rushed up along her spine.

"I like it when you bare your teeth and get ready to fight," he said. "And then of course you're breathing. That always does the trick, too."

Elizabeth laughed, and he cut her off with a rough kiss, deep and immediate, his tongue touching hers. When he broke away she put her hands on his shoulders.

"I'm sure the bosun will find this all very enlightening, but--"

He pulled her into the shadows and kissed her again. Elizabeth felt all her objections slipping away when his hand grazed her breast. Then he stopped, and his eyes seemed very large to her, and his expression suddenly guarded.

"The watch."

She hadn't heard the footsteps, but the marine was upon them already. He walked on as if they were invisible; enough time for Elizabeth to gather her wits. She went back to the rail, and Nathaniel followed.

"So much uncertainty and trouble, and still you can make me lose my head. It is most unprincipled of me, given the circumstances." She said it aloud--a confession of sorts, and one that sounded silly to her own ears.

Nathaniel laughed, a dry laugh without conviction. "Only you can feel guilty about not feeling miserable, Boots."

She was not miserable, it was true. She had her children and her husband and Curiosity nearby, all in good health. Now that they knew what was bothering Hannah, that could be made right. There was every reason to believe that Hawkeye and Robbie were also well, if not as comfortable on the Jackdaw in the company of Giselle Somerville and Granny Stoker.

She was not miserable, because she knew with complete certainty that there was some way for them to get home, and Nathaniel would find it. She knew too that there was no way to say this to him. She might find some peace in the here and now, but Nathaniel would not be satisfied until he could act.

She put her cheek against his shoulder. "Do you remember The Tempest? We read it aloud last winter. One line stays with me these days: "Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground.""

"Ah," he said. "I know you're feeling yourself when you start quoting."

She pushed him playfully. "You once appreciated my quotes."

"I still do, Boots." There was something of his old teasing tone in his voice, something keen edged and welcome and she knew that he wanted to pick up where they had left off just a few minutes ago, but the hatch opened and he stepped away.

A shaggy blond head appeared above bony shoulders.

"Mungo," said Elizabeth, letting out a small hiccup of relief. "Why are you up so late?"

The boy hesitated, looking around himself as if he expected the quartermaster to jump out and box his ears. When he was sure there was no danger he sought out Nathaniel's gaze, as if to ask permission to come closer.

"Did you want to talk?" Nathaniel asked.

The boy nodded and came toward them, studying his feet with great interest. Mungo would go to great lengths to be in Elizabeth's company--it was not the first time he had sought them out so late at night. He had attached himself to her when they took him aboard the Jackdaw.

"I've got a wee somethin' for ye," he said, and brought out his hand from behind his back. Elizabeth drew back in surprise, for he held some kind of blade there, dark of color, long and slender.

"The neb o' a swordfish," said Mungo, touching his own upturned nose to illustrate. "It's gey sharp, missus. They swish it aboot tae kill squid and the like."

Elizabeth glanced at Nathaniel and he lifted one brow at her, not quite concerned and a little intrigued.

"It is very kind of you, Mungo, to think of us." He had wrapped the broader end in a piece of rawhide and she took it gingerly between two fingers. From the tip to the base it was as long as her arm.

"Did you catch the fish yourself?"

"Och, ne. A gey great monster, is a swordfish. The meat is richt tasty, forbye, bu' they fight like the de'il."

Nathaniel bent over to examine it more closely. "Where did you come by it?"

"A marine harpooned him. He gave the neb tae ma brother Charlie, and Charlie gave it tae me."

Elizabeth handed the sword to Nathaniel and resisted the urge to wipe her hands on her handkerchief. "Are you sure you want to part with such a treasure?"

Even in the near dark the boy's blush was clear to see. He sent her a sidelong glance. "Ye were kind tae me when I was injured, missus. I willna forget it."

Nathaniel asked, "How's that bump on your head today?"

The boy touched his forehead. "No' sae bad." He inched a little closer, still examining his own feet. Elizabeth sensed that he would roll over like a puppy if she patted his head.

"What's that?" Nathaniel asked, turning sharply toward the west, where a rushing noise seemed to come from the darkened sea.