Chapter Text
Four years after the ‘death’ of her husband, and slightly more than four years into her relationship with Doug, Mary realized she had a problem.
Mary and Doug had never married, though the romantic nature of their relationship was obvious to everyone in Bridgetown. Doug had moved into the Bonnet household three months after Stede’s demise, after all. Every day, they strolled arm-in-arm through town, heads leaning close as they spoke to one another. Doug went to all of Mary’s family gatherings and Mary attended most of his art shows. The children even referred to Doug as their father, on occasion.
The fact that they remained unwed was unconventional, and not a little taboo. It wasn’t unheard of by any means, but it was generally considered best to keep such arrangements secret. And they did, to a certain extent. Mary had told her friends, of course, and Doug’s brother often brought his own children around to play with Alma and Louis. Neither of them explicitly mentioned their relationship to their other relatives or acquaintances, though it was clear that they also knew.
In a place like Barbados, their indiscretion could have been the end of them: Ostracism was the least they could expect if anyone chose to speak out against their arrangement. But Mary was a Respectable Widow and Doug was a highly regarded member of the community, and thus anyone who disapproved of their association held their tongues. And so, their relationship was allowed to remain an ill-kept secret, and Mary and Doug were left to their own devices.
Mary was comfortable with the way things were. But she feared the leniency granted to them would change, given her predicament.
“Doug,” Mary began one morning in early spring. She had just finished dressing for the day and had spent the last few minutes dithering over what to say. She brushed a nervous hand through her hair and waited for her lover to respond.
“Yes, Mary?” Doug replied, fingers nimbly doing up the buttons of his waistcoat. He was looking in the mirror as he worked. He glanced over to where her reflection stood behind him and continued getting dressed.
Mary took a deep breath. “I think I need to visit a midwife,” she informed him slowly.
Doug’s fingers stopped on the last button. Her lover’s eyes widened, and he mouthed what Mary had just told him in stricken silence. He jerked around to face her.
“Uh. You mean – “ he stuttered out. Mary nodded hesitantly. “Oh! Um. That’s . . . I mean. God. That’s wonderful! Er. How long?”
Mary sat heavily on the bed and shrugged, “It’s been maybe two months now? It will be at least seven more before the birth, though Alma and Louis were both late. Well. Assuming it gets that far.”
“Oh. Wow!” Doug ran a shaky hand through his hair and laughed. He sat down on the bed beside her. “This is all a bit unexpected, but – yeah. Um. How are you feeling? I know this isn’t something we had planned.”
Mary bumped her shoulder against his. “Frankly, it’s a lot to consider. I wasn’t intending to have a third child, but these things happen. And I may be wrong. Maybe I’ve started worrying too early and nothing will come of it. But now that it could be happening . . . I think having another baby might not be such a bad thing.”
“’Not a bad thing?’ You must have a stronger opinion than that,” Doug said. He ran a warm hand over Mary’s back and pulled her closer.
Mary wrinkled her nose at him, “fine, I’m a little excited. Now that the children are growing up, it will be nice to have a baby around the house again. Honestly, I’m more concerned about how we’re going to explain the child’s presence than I am about having another one. We’ll be the talk of Bridgetown for months, after.”
“Well, at least a handful of the residents are intelligent individuals. I’m sure they can work out why the kid exists without needing us to explain,” Doug teased.
Mary snorted and flicked him on the nose, “you know what I mean. They’ll try to make our lives a living hell if we don’t play this right.”
Doug hummed, tapping a finger on her back. “I don’t think it will get that bad. The other Widows aren’t going to leave you to rot, and I have a few friends of my own – if anyone speaks against us, we won’t have to fight them alone. We’ll figure it out.”
“I suppose we will,” Mary relented. His optimism reminded her a bit of Stede, though Doug’s cheer was far less annoying. Mary shook the comparison from her head before it could take root. She kissed her lover on the cheek, “I reserve the right to worry over it until we do, though. But how are you feeling about all of this? The child won’t just be mine, after all.”
“Ooh, maybe that can be our story. Mary Bonnet and her immaculate conception – do you think they’d buy it?” Doug muttered, snickering when Mary rolled her eyes at his suggestion. “In all seriousness, I’m excited as well. Alma and Louis are such a joy, I can only imagine how wonderful it will be to have a third child running around the house. So long as you’re happy to have another one, I’ll be delighted to raise them at your side.”
Mary smiled up at him, some of her nerves melting away. “I guess that settles it, then. Fuck what everyone in this town is going to think. We’re having another child, and they can try to rationalize that for themselves. I don’t give a damn.”
Doug grinned back and pulled Mary to her feet, “That’s the spirit, darling. So, what do you need from me right now?”
Mary pecked her lover on the lips and squeezed their hands together. “I don’t need anything at the moment. You go to work, and I’ll find that midwife. I’ll let you know what she says when I come home.”
“Alright. I’ll hold you to that.” Doug twirled Mary around in a circle and she laughed. “God. Seven months, you say? That’s hardly any time at all. I can’t wait!”
The midwife concurred with Mary’s suspicions about her gravid state. Georgina was a widow herself and gave Mary a knowing look when she knocked on her door and requested a private audience. The older woman kept their conversation strictly to business. She didn’t seem to care that Mary’s baby would be born out of wedlock, and hadn’t asked about the father beyond ascertaining whether Doug would be involved in the child’s care.
Georgina was a practical woman. Her door was always open to expectant mothers in need, she said, no matter their circumstances. Mary was sent on her way with orders to check in with the midwife in a few months. She appreciated the other woman’s pragmatic approach to childbirth and walked home feeling more confident in her condition. Everything was going to be fine.
When she got home it was early afternoon, and Doug was still in town. Her lover’s lessons would last for a few hours yet, and he wouldn’t be able to leave his studio until just before nightfall. Mary wasn’t sure what to do with herself for the rest of the day. She felt too distracted to paint, and the thought of reading was unappealing. She paced the house instead, running a hand over the back of a couch as she wandered through the parlor for the third time. She had so much energy right now, and Mary felt like she would burst if she didn’t find some way to channel it.
Mary tapped an impatient rhythm against a cabinet as she passed. There must be something she could do in her lover’s absence.
As much as she wanted to talk to Doug, Mary decided to expend her energy by tackling a different conversation first. After all, having a baby would affect everyone in the Bonnet house. She needed to let Alma and Louis know about their future sibling. Mary wasn’t sure how they would react: Alma had been too young to understand what was happening when Louis was born, and Louis had spent his entire life as the youngest child. She hoped they would be happy with the news, though she knew they might be less than thrilled.
But it was a conversation they needed to have. Mary determined that speaking to them individually would be best. Alma was the most level-headed of the two, so Mary decided to start with her. She called her daughter into the dining room and sat her down for a chat.
“I never thought about having another sibling,” Alma said once Mary had finished giving her the news. The little girl didn’t look enthused by the prospect, but Mary didn’t think she was upset either. “Will it be a brother or a sister?” She inquired.
“I can’t say,” Mary replied.
Alma furrowed her brow, “oh. Will they be like Jim, then?”
Mary laughed. “No, I mean – I don’t know if the baby is a boy or a girl, dear. Nobody will know until after the birth. And I’m not sure whether they’ll be like Jim. That’s something they can figure out when they’ve grown up a little. You can ask them then.”
“OK,” Alma paused and scrunched her nose, “How long do we have to wait for the baby to be born?”
Mary smiled fondly at her daughter’s curiosity. “That’s something else I don’t know for certain. Maybe seven months, but it could be more. Or less! It’s up to the baby, really.”
“Does this mean you and Doug are getting married?” Alma asked innocently.
“Ah,” Mary grimaced. “That’s . . . that’s a complicated question.”
Her daughter looked up at her with guileless eyes. “Why is it complicated?”
Mary considered her answer carefully. She and Doug had talked about marriage before. Neither of them felt driven to tie the knot, and they were both content maintaining their relationship as it was. Besides, after the decade-long fiasco with Stede, Mary had privately concluded that marriage was a bit of a sham. To her, it was an empty institution that bound people together with no regard for their own desires. The upper classes used it as a tool – a method for moving wealth and land ownership in the ‘proper’ direction, or forging alliances – and little more. Anyway, was it not enough that Mary and Doug loved each other? Why would they need to announce themselves before God when their unconditional affection was obvious to everyone in Barbados?
Maybe Mary was too jaded by her previous experience to give the idea enough credit, though. Many people were perfectly happy to wed each other; enough to perform the act more than once, in some cases. It couldn’t be all bad. Regardless of her reasoning, Mary didn’t think she’d want to get married again. But she didn’t want to explain her opinions about the tradition to a twelve-year-old girl, either.
“It just is,” Mary finally said, “It’s difficult to explain. But Doug and I are happy enough without getting married. That’s what’s important, isn’t it dear?”
“I guess,” Alma replied, looking unsatisfied with her mother’s evasive response. She tilted her head and frowned, “Does this mean we won’t be visiting father and Ed this year?”
“What?” Mary asked, a little thrown by the sudden change in subject.
“You said the baby would be born in seven months, and it could be earlier. But it just occurred to me that we’re supposed to go to Martinique around then. Ed told us they’d be at the villa six months from now, right? Will you still want to leave home if the baby could come any day?”
“Oh,” Mary breathed. In her excitement, she’d forgotten all about the plans she’d made the last time they had visited the pirates. Six months seemed like an eternity away, and Mary had been so focused on the present since she realized she was with child. It still seemed irrelevant, but Alma had a point. “No, I won’t want to go, then. I’ll need to stay here so the midwife can help me when the time comes. Thank you for reminding me, dear.”
“Of course, mother,” Alma said. If her daughter hadn’t looked disappointed before, she certainly did now. “Can we visit them after the baby is born?” She requested tentatively.
Mary hummed, “I’m not sure. I don’t know what their plans are – they might not be at the villa again for quite some time. And traveling with an infant isn’t ideal.” Alma shuffled glumly in her seat. Her daughter’s eyes were downcast as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. Mary sighed, “Why don’t I write your father and let him know what’s going on? Perhaps he’d be willing to coordinate a visit sometime this winter instead,” she conceded.
Alma immediately dropped her pout and beamed at her mother. She leapt out of her seat and threw her arms around Mary’s shoulders. Mary huffed a laugh and embraced her in return.
“Well. It’s easy to tell what’s more important to you, Alma dear,” Mary teased drily.
Alma pulled away to look her mother in the eye. “Babies are interesting, I guess, but pirates are more exciting,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Mary raised an eyebrow. “You sound like Stede, though I shouldn’t be surprised. You are your father’s daughter, after all. But it doesn’t matter. Unless you have any more questions, I think we’ve covered everything I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay,” Alma agreed, slipping away from Mary and towards the door, “Do you want me to get Louis so you can talk to him, too?”
Mary nodded, “That would be wonderful, darling, thank you for offering.”
Mary watched her daughter skip out of the room to find her brother. She shook her head. ‘Pirates are more exciting,’ indeed. Alma truly was much like her father, Mary thought fondly, though she had definitely picked up some of her mannerisms from Ed instead of Stede. Mary settled back in her chair to wait for Louis to arrive.
She started composing a message to the pirates in her head as she waited. Mary had no idea when they would get the letter and could only hope they stopped by the villa well before the date she was supposed to visit. She didn’t want to concern them, after all. But no matter when the letter was read, Mary knew her former husband and his pirates would be in for one hell of a surprise.