'I am going to have the lot of you sacked. I am going to make sure you never set foot on a rowboat, much less a ship, ever again.' Minerva announced with lethal calm as a trepid silence blanketed the room. The two crewmen turned pale as the captain's lips thinned into a frustrated line. Minerva fought back tears of fury as she saw her husband never having looked worse for wear. His clothes were in disarray, he was sporting a purple bruise on his cheek and was currently casting up his accounts into a bucket with such violence Minerva felt her own stomach turn. Minerva kept her eyes on Ben's hunched form, letting it whet her rage.

'There is no need to overreact. He's mostly in the same condition we found him in.'

'Overreact? Overreact?!' Minerva snarled as she turned her fury at Captain. 'You have my husband in shackles! His lip is split! His jacket is torn!'

Duchess, who was crouched over Ben's prone form, let out a hiss of agreement. Ben groaned, his head still hung over the bucket.

'Would you rather we let every ruffian attempting to steal their way into first-class do so without any recompense? I imagine a woman of a station as high as Your Grace's would be the first to withdraw her patronage if that were so.' The captain responded tersely. Minerva's mouth opened and closed with no response found.

'Well, you might have treated him with some compassion!' She settled on, finally. 

'Your husband attacked my crew.'

'He would never.' She turned to her horribly seasick husband. 'Tell them you didn't.'

Ben's green face somehow flushed with his guilt.

Oh, bollocks!

She looked around the room searching for any way to not concede the point to the haughty captain. She saw three pairs of irritated eyes and realized that her only ally was once again casting his guts up into the bucket.

Oh, double bollocks.

'Oh, very w-well! I am sorry for all the fuss,' she sighed petulantly. Perhaps ingratiating herself in front of the captain may prevent the chances of her husband getting thrown overboard. 'We shall be more than happy to speak to your company about your professionalism. I thank you for all your vigilance. Please help me carry my husband to my suite.'

'Not so fast, madam.' The captain replied tersely. 'On my ship, unruly passengers are not set free with only a slap on the wrist. You will be fined. And your husband's deck privileges are revoked for the next two weeks until he proves that he can behave himself.'

'You cannot confine him to his rooms! He is seasick.' She gasped in outrage. 'He needs the fresh air!'

Ben, helpfully, vomited once more. How much could one man even produce that much?

'How unfortunate. If your husband needs his deck privileges so badly, he is welcome to stay in third class, they have access to the lower decks, as you well know.'

Ben shook his head in desperate appeal. The bloody captain held all the cards.

'Oh, very well! Please just have him carried to my room.'

'Of course, Your Grace.' The captain somehow managed to make his bow disrespectful.

By the time the bath she had ordered arrived, Ben had finally stopped being ill, though he seemed rather weak and his body was slightly warm to the touch. The lemon grass tea she had forced him to drink seemed to have settled his stomach. Neither of them had broken the silence that had settled in the suite as the servants had rushed to fill a tub. She walked over to her husband who was slumped on a sofa and commanded, 'Up!'

His eyes sprang open, bloodshot and weary. Her heart rioted at the passion contained in his eyes as his gaze trained on her face. 'Minerva-'

'Do not speak!' She snapped at him, eyes welling once more with tears. 'Of all the stupid, reckless, foolish things you could have done! You could have been h-hurt! They could have kept you prisoner all t-the way to America! And I wouldn't have known.'

'Minerva,' he sighed as struggled to his feet and he somehow managed to pack a universe's worth of longing into that one phrase.

'Not a word out of you! I am holding on to my sanity with the barest of threads, if you start speaking, I shall start weeping so much that they will have to commit me to an asylum, do you understand? Not. A. Word.'

He nodded slowly and allowed her to undress him, unbuttoning his shirt and helping him shrug off his. She allowed her gaze to roam his figure, a startled gasp leaving her lips as she saw clear marks of fingers along his neck.

'Who did this to you?' She demanded, her vision going white with fury. 'One of the crew? Because if so, I swear to God-'

He shook his head. 'Needham. Long story.'

Well. Needham was a dead man if Minerva had anything to do about it.

'Ophelia?'

'Safe. Also a long story.'

Minerva nodded. They had much more important things to discuss before he told her of how things went with Needham. She averted her eyes as he let his trousers drop and kept them averted until she heard his relieved groan as he entered the water. She pulled up a stool beside him, waiting for him to soap and rise as she applied a salve to his split lip. Duchess came and settled at her feet, purring. She took his hands, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckle as a tear slipped onto his skin in spite of her best efforts. She pressed another at the angry ring of injured flesh where the shackle had gone around his wrist.

'Don't cry for me, my love,' his thumb caressed her cheek with aching tenderness. 'I'm not worth it.'

'I didn't want this. I didn't want you to do this,' she sniffled. She was so tired of all this weeping! Perhaps she ought to stop drinking water! It seemed to be the only way to stop this madness.

'I know, sweeting.'

He slowly rose out of the water, belted a robe across his waist, and offered her his hand. Two parts of her warring inside; the part of her that had been so very hurt by him along with the part of her that loved him so much she thought she had left a piece of herself in England. She placed her hand in his as she watched the tension leave his body.

'How did you even manage this madness?!'

'When I reached Dover, this vessel was booked full. I bribed a man traveling third class to give his passage to me. I did not anticipate that on top of my fear of open water, I also have the propensity to get rather horridly seasick. The first night I spent only being ill. The second night I made sure to not eat a bite and I tried to find my way to you, at which point I was accosted. I tried to force my way through them but there were two of them, I was on an empty stomach and the ship was rolling beneath me. I really wasn't much of a challenge for the experienced seamen.'

'What are you even doing here?!' She began to cry in earnest now as he enveloped her in his arms. It felt so good to be in his embrace. She felt comforted by him even as her heart twisted in fear.

'Why would I not be here? You told me that you would not let me drown and I held onto that belief for dear life.' He tipped her chin up and his eyes burned with the intensity of his emotions. 'How could I have not come? Did you-' he broke off as his voice grew thick with his own tears, 'did you expect me to just let you walk out of my life? For good? Let you leave with such hurt and bitterness between us when I love you so damn much that I feel like I will cease to exist without you? Did you think I would not fight for you with everything I have in me?'

'You don't-' her throat closed up as a maelstrom of emotion choked her; heartbreak, fear, hope, love. 'You don't have to say that. I know that you don't understand-'

'Of course I do. I love you. I started falling in love with you the day we spoke about your father and Charlie. By the night we got drunk together, I was yours for the taking. I love you. I have loved you since Cornwall. I wish I understood sooner, I wish I had told you sooner. But what else could this feeling be? The fact that I do not feel whole without you? The fact that I would rather carve out my own heart than hurt you like I have ever again?'

'Oh, Ben,' she buried her face in his chest and allowed him to pass soothing circles over her back.

'I wish that I did not let my fear make you feel as if I did not trust you. It was my fault, I was just so afraid that I did not stop to assess the situation with the calmness it was due. It felt as though my brain had stopped working and all that was left was the fact that I could lose Ophelia as I had lost Charlie. I made the worst mistake of my life that night, I know it. Knowing that I had hurt you enough to make you leave me, Minerva, I have never in my life known any pain akin to it.'

'I didn't mean to-' she began as he pressed his thumb to her lips, beseeching her silence.

'You are my love, my first and only. You are my lifeblood. You are the very breath in my lungs. Without you, there is no joy, no happiness, and no life. There is no peace. And if that is what you deem to be the appropriate penance for what I have done, I will live the rest of my life knowing that my heart beats across an ocean and not in my chest. I will do it gladly for there is no one for me after you and I would give you anything you wanted, even if it was to be rid of me.' He rested his brow against hers. 'But, if there is even a single kernel of forgiveness left in your heart, I humble myself before you and beseech you for it. Forgive me. Give me one more chance and I will spend every waking moment of my life making sure you do not regret it. I will be the kind of man you both need and deserve. Please, tell me that you love me still and that I have not broken us beyond repair. That I have not ruined the one good thing I have ever done.'

'I do!' She cried out vehemently. 'Of course, I love you still. Of course, I forgive you, you daft man. You crossed an ocean for me. Even when I was hurt, I loved you. I wished I didn't so that it would hurt less. I have only wept these days without you. I missed you every second and then hated myself for missing you. I am so sorry for leaving as I did. I didn't mean it. I don't want us to live apart. I want us to be together. Please forgive me for forcing your hand into coming after me, but please believe me that I never imagined that you would. Forgive me for running instead of having a difficult conversation and risking the hurt. Forgive me for letting one mistake overrule the hundreds of things you did right.'

'You have nothing to ask forgiveness for. I would cross a thousand oceans for you,' he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her with the same desperation she felt. 'Thank God. Thank God. I love you so much. Never leave me again, my heart can't take it.'

'Never,' she promised him between kisses. 'Never, never, never.'

As they broke apart, he grinned at her and her heart grew wings at his smile, fluttering against her ribcage. 'I have something for you. Wait here.'

He quickly crossed the room and rummaged through his torn jacket for something and extracted a crinkled-looking piece of paper. He offered it up to her with an apologetic look and then waited expectantly while she unfolded it and tried to make out the smudged writing. She gasped and her face snapped to his, 'This is a-'

'Marriage license, yes. Marry me.'

'We are already married.'

'Benedict and Minerva Montgomery are, yes. This is a marriage license for Benjamin Montgomery and Veronica Marksham. Marry me.'

Minerva could only gape at him in shock. 'What are you on about?!'

'The first time we got married, it was neither of our choice. I am asking you now, marry me. This time, it is your choice. And I am asking you to choose me. Spend the rest of your life with me. Go to summer fairs under aliases with me. Be my partner for every waltz we ever encounter. Be the one I reach for when I wake up in the middle of the night. Be my wife, my friend, my lover, my treasure.'

'Ben.' She was breathing heavily as he took her hands into his own and pressed feather-light kisses to her knuckles.

'Be my family. Make fun of my uptight ways with our children, let us be the kind of family that ribs and jokes with each other. Teach me how to find the joys of life in the little things. Love me, until death do us part. Minerva Catherine Montgomery, choose me to be your husband, to have and to hold. I'm certain you know the rest of it, you weren't drunk to high heaven on our wedding.'

She let out a watery laugh before she launched herself at him. He caught her as she nodded with great enthusiasm and kissed him with eagerness. 'Yes. I would always choose you. I love you, I love you, I love you.'

'God, woman, I love you.'

He leaned in and captured his kiss again, but this time this turned from desperate to smoldering as Minerva untied the sash from around his waist and ran her fingers across his chest in open invitation. If he was too tired, he was welcome to refuse her.

'Minerva,' he groaned a warning as her hands slid lower and lower until she had her hands wrapped around his shaft. She felt him harden and fill out her hand as his breathing grew ragged.

'No?'

'Yes, God, yes. Need you. Always need you.'

'Then have me.' She said, arching her neck provocatively. His lips descended upon her skin and his hands upon the laces of her dress. She cried out as he bit into the skin of her neck where her pulse beat and smoothed it over with gentle sucks and licks. She felt moisture rush between her legs and he rubbed her nipples through her bodice before he loosened it. Then, her stays were gone. Her gown and petticoats followed shortly and then she was tumbling backwards onto the bed as Ben settled between her thighs. As he moved down to pleasure her with his tongue, she pulled him up and begged, 'Ben, please. I'm ready. I can't wait, I need you.'

He muttered both curses and prayers as he shucked off the robe and grabbed her legs, he bent her legs at the knees, forcing her to open up to him. He lined himself with her and thrust home all the way in one brutal movement that had both of them crying out. His thumb circled her clitoris as she felt herself spasm around him. 'Christ, you have such a pretty little pussy. Look at how well you're taking me all the way. I'll never get enough of it.'

'Ben, please,' she whimpered as he thrust into her with slow, sure, long strokes. 'Faster, please.'

He obeyed, finding the pace she liked, stimulating her bundle of nerves until she cried out her sweet release. He only managed to hold on a minute more before he began to throb inside her. As he made to pull out she wrapped her legs around him. She cradled his face in her hands and kissed him. 'I want everything. Don't hold back.'

With a loud yell, Ben buried himself to the hilt and found his own release inside her.

He collapsed beside her and pulled her into his arms.

They held each other and murmured reassurances of love and tenderness until they could muster the energy to make love once more.

Over the course of their journey, they discovered it was the most efficient way to keep Ben's seasickness at bay, so they made love often and enthusiastically. So much so, that it was to no one's surprise that Her Grace found that she had missed her cycle the first week after she disembarked at the Boston harbor.

It was also to no one's surprise that His Grace turned out to be the worst of mother hens, refusing to let her climb the stairs unaided, refusing to let her walk significant distances until one day Her Grace snapped and informed him that she was pregnant and not a China doll. He begrudgingly lessened his coddling once the physician also agreed with his wife. One thing he refused to be moved on, however, was his refusal to travel back to England while his wife was pregnant. In spite of Her Grace's insistence that pregnant women traveled all the time, His Grace simply argued that they could treat their stay in America as an extended honeymoon. When she pointed out that he would miss Parliament, he only replied that English politics would not collapse without him and when she tried to argue that his firstborn would be American, he simply replied that his two most beloved people on the earth would have something in common.

His Grace never did stop being high-handed.

The positive side to their extended stay in America was that Minerva and Ben were by Sister Agatha's side in the final months of her life. Sister Agatha and her family had been invited to stay with the Montgomery's, so their house was often overrun by her rambunctious grand nephews and nieces. At some point Duchess had had her kittens, so then their house was overrun by children and felines.

Sister Agatha and her rowdy family were also the only ones invited to the marriage of Benjamin and Veronica, a private ceremony held in one of the many rooms of their Boston townhouse. The old matron had even shed a few happy tears.

His Grace would often comment that it was among the best times of his life, second only to the births of his three children, all of whom would conspire to turn his hair grey far earlier than it should have. They were Minerva Catherin Montgomery's children, too after all.

There were laughs and happy moments, right along with the sad ones and the fights with one another and fights with their very opinionated children. But, all in all, it can easily be said that the Duke and Duchess of Rothbury lived and loved happily ever after.