She must have dozed off. It’s early in the evening. The smell of stew awakens her. It’s been so long since she ate that. She’s in bed in his rented room, covered by its sheet. Her clothes that were frumped into a corner, now hang from coat hangers. His broad shoulders are covered by his linen shirt again. Mesmerized, Sarah lets him feed her the stew.

She nods wholeheartedly when he says he hopes they will meet again. Jack then flourishes an orange from his hat and lobs it for her to catch. Sarah never tasted orange before.

The door closes with her sigh.

La Viuda watches from the Bridgetown port. A pistol attack is what she decided on. No poisons, no ruffians, no swords. Direct, clean, quick, then disappear into the crowd. If María Ximena learned anything is that complicated plans are just that: complicated. The simplest approach is usually the best.

There is something in the way that woman moves that alerts Jack. Liz sees it in his face. So, does Penelope.

La Viuda raises her pistols.

Two pies hit her in the face. The smoke bomb drops. Through it, she sees Jack blow her a kiss and order his men to cast off.

Liz unhooks her skirt. It swishes to the floor.

Distracted by her smooth legs, Sebastián doesn’t notice how Liz holds up her own sword—she’s not called ‘Cutlass’ Liz for nothing. He barely manages to hold off the attack and before he knows it, he’s on the floor with a blade in his neck and his own rapier out of reach.