Soon, Desmond and I will be far from Collinsport.  His injuries will require constant attention, and that I can provide.  It will be a difficult life for a time, but never a boring one.  My life could very well be replete with regret were it not for adventure.  I might fall into fury and drink.  But that is not my path.

I think that Tad understands that it is not his, either.  Such was the lesson of our time at sea.  On his deathbed, I dearly hope that his last words are not, “Thank goodness that I had enough time for naps, filing, and domestic chores!”

The universe provides a playground of unique, bizarre, and unlikely experiences, and I intend to have every one of them.  Anything less will be an insult to my own posterity.  Now, I can happily add “dodged execution for witchcraft” to my list of exploits.  As harrowing as that has been, I shall wear that badge with peculiar and fervent pride.

I believe I will begin the next chapter in England, and finally accept that invitation to join the Club.  Will Daphne approve?  I suspect she has a dash of hellfire behind those eyes.

Set sail!



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