“Don’t do this,” Jeremy implored, following Peter into his cabin.
“Get out.” Peter poured himself a glass of wine from the lovely crystal decanter they’d taken from a Dutch ship off the coast of Florida.
“I don’t like being pushed around. You know that.”
“Get used to it. I’m the captain, not you!”
Jeremy deftly stepped around him and poured himself his own glass as though Peter had not even raised his voice. “You think this woman will give you some kind of legitimacy? Or do you just want to wear her gown?” He took a sip and grinned. “I think we’d see too much ankle.”
“You go too far.”
“Well, I can never see enough ankle, to be honest about it.” Setting down his glass, Jeremy began the long process of undoing the buttons on his waistcoat. “Her mouth looks too small.”
“You know that I’ve ... we’ve ... I mean -”
“Is that really true? Or do you not want to admit that you’ve found happiness with a beautiful man? Happiness and an excuse to wear pretty baubles and sometimes dance?” Jeremy removed his coat and his shirt quickly followed. He took a large sip of wine before grabbing Peter’s and setting it aside. Taking his hands, he tugged the man he loved into a slow sway about the cabin.
“It isn’t natural,” Peter offered, his voice small and unsure.
“Feels natural to me. Feels natural every night when I kneel before you and kiss you to insensibility. When you kneel before me.” Pulling Peter close, Jeremy whispered in his ear, “We’re not going to Port Royal.”
“We’re not going remotely close to such a ghastly place. You and I, Captain, are going to retire. We’re going to hand this ship over to your most likely successor, who just might be that spirited woman, and retire to Patagonia.”
“Seems as good a place as any.”
And that is how Arabella became the new dread pirate Blood and how Peter and Jeremy retired and adopted a little girl who would marry a man named Roberts.
Patagonia is a nice place to retire, especially for pirates.