The Stowaway

Bonus Epilogue

"God help me, she'll drive me to madness," he muttered under his breath. But Eliza could have sworn that there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Tom still did not smile often. His stern or stoic expressions were a habit that was hard to break, but when he did smile, it was at her or their children.

"Come here," Tom commanded, though a smile, a wicked smile did appear.

"No." Eliza grinned darting away from him. "Update to the November 20th entry!" she cried as she jumped up on the bed when Tom lunged for her. "My wife is –"

"My wife is infuriating!" Tom interrupted as he stepped up onto the bed, the weight of them both standing upon it making their footing unsteady. He lunged for her again and Eliza yelped, laughing, as his arms encircled her waist and pulled her down on top of him, so that her back was lying against his chest. He held her tightly, and she felt a puff of his breath as he blew her hair away from his mouth.

Eliza laughed as she squirmed against him, but Tom's grip only tightened. "She is infuriating, but I love her anyway," she finished for him.

"Mmm, if I must," he acquiesced, and she felt breath against her neck as he uttered, "Do you mean to tell me that you dropped your breeches in front of my men?"

"Just Echo," Eliza whispered back, her cheeks hurting from smiling.

Eliza felt his hand lower to her belt, and with one swift motion he had it unbuckled.

"Show me, Eliza."

***

The air really was freezing as it was late November, and Eliza was thankful that while at sea she dressed like a man. It was so much easier to keep warm without a skirt billowing about her ankles. Of course, now she wore clothing that fitted and was made for her, and not her husband's breeches which were a foot and a half too long for her.

Eliza rubbed her hands together as she and Tom emerged from the cabin and overlooked their crew working on deck.

"This does not mean that I approve of your behaviour, Eliza," Tom murmured under his breath as he draped his arm around her shoulders and cuddled her close into his side. He dropped a kiss on top of her head.

Eliza grinned, craning her neck to look up at him.

Tom smirked when he saw her expression. "Wipe that smile off your face. You haven't won."

"I beg to differ," Eliza countered. "I wonder what I shall have put on me next."

Tom's grip tightened. "Don't test me," he warned slyly, leaning down to gently press his lips against hers.

"Papa!"

Both Tom and Eliza jumped at the cry of their eight-year-old son, Thomas, and all teasing vanished. Eliza had memorised every tone, every cry, every shout that either one of her children could make, and Thomas was terrified. What on earth could have happened?

Thomas came streaking up the deck, closely flanked by Tom's seventeen-year-old younger brother Ned, who was now Tom's first mate aboard the Eliza Lee. Lissy, their three-year-old daughter came toddling along behind them with absolutely no sense of urgency save to follow her brother.

Tom and Eliza tore down the steps as Thomas leapt into his father's arms. "Papa! Mama!" Thomas panicked, panting, his green eyes wide with fright.

"What on earth has happened?" Tom asked desperately.

By then Lissy had reached them, too, and Eliza seized her for a sense of security. "What's the matter?" Eliza asked Ned, who, too, was panting at the base of the steps.