Chapter Text
Mary waited up for Doug. She was far too keyed up to sleep or to focus on her painting, so she curled up in an armchair by the fire in the sitting room and ran her unseeing eyes over the same line in the day’s newspaper over and over again as her mind raced. The sound of the front door opening had her snapping the paper shut and leaping to her feet.
When Doug appeared in the sitting room he looked startled at first to see Mary there, then smiled his warm, loving smile and opened his arms. She slid into them gratefully, sighing as she settled her head against his chest. Doug stroked her hair.
“You didn’t have to wait up, dear,” he said.
“I know.” Mary snuggled closer and Doug tightened his arms around her. He always knew when she needed comfort and never, never failed to offer it. God, she loved him. “I love you,” she said. “You know I love you, right?”
“Of course I do,” he replied. “Do you doubt it?”
“I sometimes worry,” said Mary, the words muffled by Doug’s shirt, “that my not wanting to marry you… that it hurts your feelings. That maybe you think, deep down, that it means I don’t.”
Doug placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pried her from his person, until he was able to look down at her face. Cautiously, Mary met his gaze. What she saw there was nothing but the deep affection and understanding she’d always known with him.
“Darling, do we need to talk about this?” he inquired. “Properly, I mean.”
She nodded gratefully. “I think we do, yeah.”
Doug led her over to the loveseat where she sat with her legs curled under her and her head on his shoulder, his arm tucked securely around her, firm and comforting.
“The truth is that I do wish we could get married,” he said, after a short silence. “It’s something I always pictured for myself and a commitment I’d like to make with you. And if I’m perfectly honest, there’s a small part of me that can’t help feeling like I’m paying the price for Stede’s failings.” Mary’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach and she began to protest, but Doug continued before she could find the words. “But, despite all that, there’s a larger part of me that understands that your choice isn’t really about me at all. It’s about you.”
“How—how do you mean?”
“I know the real reason you don’t want to remarry isn’t because of how bad things were with Stede or because you don’t love me enough to move past that. It’s because being a widow gives you the kind of freedom you couldn’t have in any other way, and you don’t want to lose that again. Isn’t that right?”
“It is.” Mary leant back far enough that she could see his face. Her heart was in her chest again, pounding happily, and when Doug smiled at her it skipped a beat.
“I do understand that, my love,” he said softly. “And though I could assure you that I would never try to curtail your freedom in any way if we were married, the fact is that any marriage, no matter who it’s with, would mean sacrificing who you are.” He took her hand and linked their fingers together. “I don’t wish to take your liberty or anything else from you, Mary. More than anything I just want you to be you. Happy and free. As long as you have that and I get to be part of your life, I’ll be happy too. So if you want to know if it hurts my feelings that you don’t want to marry me, the answer is that it doesn’t hurt exactly, just makes me a little bit sad. The way people are sad when they want something they know they’ll never have. But I’m okay living with that kind of sadness. I understand the reason for it. And I don’t love you any less for your decision.”
“Doug,” Mary choked, “I love you so much. So much.”
“I know.” He pulled her closer, pressed a kiss to her forehead and stroked her hair. “You have the freedom to do anything, go anywhere, be with anyone, and you’re here with me. Because you choose to be. That’s how I know you love me.”
Mary sighed as she sank deeper into his embrace. “I’m so glad that’s settled because I have, er. Something to tell you. Something, um. Unexpected.”
“Is it that Stede’s here?” asked Doug. “With the man I presume is his Ed?”
“Yes!” Mary exclaimed. “How did you know?”
“I stopped into your studio before I left for the school this morning and I saw them there. Stede looked a bit worse for wear. I’m guessing he needed your medical care?”
“Yes, but I don’t think he came here for that. He was shot and had nowhere else to go.”
“Well, I’m glad he came here, then. Will he make it?”
“Yes, I’m almost certain. He’s healing well and with no infection.” Mary sat back so she could look at him. “You’re not upset?”
“It’s your house, Mary,” said Doug. “Your decision. And I know you’d never let anyone die, not even Stede. Not for real, anyway.”
“That’s exactly what I said!”
They shared a chuckle that faded into a comfortable silence, broken after a moment or two by Doug asking, “Do you want to hear something crazy?”
“Of course,” said Mary.
“Ed—I didn’t get that close a look at him, he was asleep and I didn’t want to wake him, but from what I saw… he looks exactly like how I always pictured Blackbeard.” He chuckled again. “Can you imagine? Stede, and Blackbeard?”
“Yeeeaaah,” said Mary. “About that.”
She filled Doug in on all the details, from Ed showing up at her studio door with a near-death Stede in tow to how they’d worked together to treat the wound and their afternoon spent in friendly conversation, getting to know each other.
“I know he’s, like, a legendary pirate and all, like I know that,” said Mary. “I know he’s probably killed a lot of people and done other terrible things. But he’s just so lovely. Sharp and funny, and he tells great stories. And he loves Stede so much. It’s the softest thing. They fit incredibly well together. I’m so happy Stede has him.”
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
Mary nodded. “I do.”
“That’s good,” said Doug, with his warm, generous smile. “I’m glad you met him, though the circumstances could have been a bit better. I feel like you needed that.”
“I feel that way too. I feel like I understand Stede better now.” She grinned at him. “You can tell a lot about someone by the choices they freely make. And by the people they freely choose.”
“You can,” said Doug. “I believe that very strongly.”
“So do I,” Mary agreed. “Let’s go to bed.”
They headed upstairs hand-in-hand, but as they passed the guest bedroom, Mary paused.
“I think I’ll just check in on them, make sure Stede’s okay,” she said.
“Sure.” Doug kissed her hand and then released it. “Take your time.”
She watched him proceed down the corridor and disappear through their bedroom door, then carefully pressed her ear to the door of the guest room. No sound came from within, not even Stede’s characteristic snoring, so she eased the door open just a crack and poked her head inside. In the faint glow of the moonlight slanting down from the window she could just make them out, the pair of them curled around each other and fast asleep, with Stede’s injured shoulder carefully bolstered by a pile of pillows and Ed’s head resting on the other. Stede’s cheek lay on Ed’s head and his arm curled around Ed’s shoulders. His fingers, Mary noted, were twined through the long locks of Ed’s hair. He was snoring, but faintly—perhaps the angle of the pillows helped him breathe better, she deduced, and resolved to test that theory on Doug. With a smile she withdrew her head back through the doorway and carefully shut the door behind her.
“How are they?” Doug inquired, when she came into their bedroom.
“Fine. Asleep. Stede seems okay.” He seemed far better than okay. He seemed content. Happy and fulfilled and complete in a way she’d never known him to be, not once in all their years together.
“So everything’s all right, then?” asked Doug as he got into bed.
“Yeah.” Mary nodded as she slid in next to him. “Everything’s perfect.”
Bright and early the next morning the four of them sat down and had breakfast together. Mary marvelled at the scene. Had anyone told her just two days earlier that not only would she soon be sharing a table with her not-so-very-late-after-all husband and both of their respective lovers, but that she would immensely enjoy herself whilst doing so, she’d have had a jolly good laugh at their expense. Yet, here they all were, eating and chatting and laughing and having a grand old time. It seemed that wonders, as the saying went, did in fact never cease.
When the meal ended, Stede returned to the guest room to rest and Doug headed out to the school. Mary and Ed lingered at the table over a final pot of tea. She was just about to ask if he’d like to sit with her in the studio again, when he placed his hand lightly on hers and said “Mary,” in the most serious voice she’d heard him use. “I think Stede and I better leave today,” he continued, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’ve been more than generous but we can’t risk putting you and Doug in more danger by staying any longer.”
“It really is unlikely that they’ll come looking for you here again,” protested Mary. “And Stede is still recovering.”
“I know that, but I think it’s best. We have a home to be getting back to. And we should probably let our mates know we’re alive.”
Mary considered this. “Well, all right,” she said. I’d prefer if you stayed another day or two just to be on the safe side with Stede’s injury, but I understand.”
“I thought you might.” Ed’s eyes twinkled at her in that lovely way they had, a way Mary realised she was truly going to miss. “You do understand things, don’t you, Mary Bonnet.”
You understand me, was what Mary heard, and it was to that she replied, “Yeah, I think I do.”
On impulse she leaned over and wrapped her arms around Ed’s shoulders. It was an awkward angle for a hug and she could sense his surprise but then he shifted to face her and returned it warmly. His arms were strong and comforting, and he spread his hand wide over her back in a way that felt protective. Mary pressed her face into his neck and squeezed him tighter.
“I’m going to miss you,” she said. “I’m so glad we met.”
“Me too,” said Ed gruffly. “But who knows, maybe one day our paths might cross again.”
“Under better circumstances, I hope.” Mary leaned back to smile at him. “No more gunshot wounds, if you please.”
“I’ll do my best,” laughed Ed.
“Of course you’re welcome to come back again any time. Preferably as guests, if that’s at all possible.”
“We do enjoy costumes and a bit of role-play,” Ed mused. “I’m sure we could invent some characters respectable enough to visit the sainted Widow Bonnet in her home without drawing suspicion.”
“The sainted Widow Bonnet would be pleased to welcome you,” replied Mary in her best Prim Widow voice. Then, hesitantly, she added, “Maybe sometime when the children are here?”
“You know, I’d like that,” said Ed, after a brief pause. “I’d like to meet them. And I think Stede would like it too. He feels bad about not being in their lives at all, even though he knows Doug’s a great dad to them.”
“Alma still has that half a petrified orange,” Mary informed him. “She took it with her when she went to finishing school.”
“Aw, Stede would be really happy to hear that.” Ed smiled softly. “He keeps the other half on a bookshelf at our place. Sometimes I catch him watching it with a sort of wistful look on his face.”
“Well, I think that settles it,” Mary declared. “You’ll have to come back.”
“Hey, you know I’m at your command." Ed held up his hands. “Don’t forget, I owe you my life.”
“Ed, really.”
“Yes, really. It may sound dramatic but it’s the plain truth and I always repay my debts. Whatever you need, as long as it’s within my power I’ll do it. All you have to do is ask.” He met her eyes, his solemn and deeply sincere. “Just ask, Mary. I mean it.”
“I will.” She placed her hand on his and gave it a squeeze, as he had done to her. “I promise.” Then, both to lighten the mood and because it was a pretty pertinent question, she asked, “How will I reach you, though? I’m guessing the postman doesn’t make it as far as your island.”
“No, not quite.” Ed grinned, then tapped the side of his nose. “But Stede and I have our ways. Let’s just say we’ll be in touch.”
That evening, as darkness fell across the island of Barbados, a hired carriage travelled swiftly along a remote coastal road. It drew to a halt quite suddenly and at a most unlikely spot, nowhere near any town or settlement or any useful harbour. The coachman, who had been paid handsomely for his unquestioning cooperation and complete silence, made no comment on the situation.
Inside the carriage, Mary was busy triple-checking the bags she’d packed, with Ed’s leather outfit and some more of Stede’s old clothes, along with plenty of bread and cheese and oranges and several flasks of water. Mary had also provided Ed with all the ingredients for Stede’s various salves and poultices, and several lengths of clean linen to wrap his shoulder with. Together, they had carefully gone over the instructions for preparing everything, though she and he were both aware that it wasn’t really necessary. Ed knew what he needed to do and Mary had every confidence that he would do it, as competently as she could herself. It was just nice to sit down and talk it through, to make absolutely sure.
“Now, are you sure you have everything you need?” she asked him now.
“Yes.” Ed took the bags from her before she could check them again. “Everything I need. You made certain of that.”
He glanced at Stede as he spoke. Mary sighed.
“All right, then,” she said. “I suppose you’d better be going.”
Ed leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. His moustache and beard tickled but his lips were soft and warm, as was his breath as he whispered, “Thank you, Mary.”
She nodded, smiled, touched his face just briefly with the palm of her hand, and then he opened the door and slipped from the carriage, silent as a cat. Mary watched as he disappeared into the falling dark, with the bags slung over his shoulder and an arm firmly around Stede’s waist.
Doug’s arm slipped comfortingly around hers. “We’ll see them again,” he said. “I made Stede promise.”
“Ed promised too,” she replied. “I just hope they’ll make it home okay.”
“Darling, they’re pirates. They’re used to danger, and the sea. They know what they’re doing. They’ll be fine.”
“Yeah.” Mary settled back into Doug’s embrace. “They’re pirates. They’ll be fine.”
And so would they, she and Doug. Mary felt sure of that now. They’d all be fine.
“Let’s go home,” she said.
And so they did.