Jack awoke first the following morning, to the welcome sight of Phryne lying spooned against him. The bruising would be terrible, the ship's doctor had explained, and her voice would likely be hoarse for a few days, but she would suffer no lasting harm. Jack had held her hand tightly while she was examined and while, having dragged a screeching Miss Arnay away to the security of the ship's brig, Master Rudd had taken her husky statement. Now he leaned over her, running his eyes along her sleeping form. It had not been the wedding night either of them had expected. But still...

But still, as he gazed at her, he could see her left hand resting on the pillow, and her wedding ring gleaming on her finger. He laid a tender kiss on her shoulder, then shifted his arm, laying his left hand over hers so that his ring was touching its mate. The sensation of wearing it was still unfamiliar to him, but after coming so close to losing her the sense of having something which connected him to her, even when they were apart, was more precious than ever. The words she had whispered in his ear as she held him close the night before - "There have been so many men in my life, Jack. But you - you are the only one I have ever wanted to spend the rest of my life with" - came back to him, and he smiled. God willing, that would be many, many years yet.

She stirred in his embrace, frowning as the pain in her throat and around her neck registered, and making a soft noise of discomfort.

Jack kissed her shoulder again. "Wake up, Mrs. Robinson," he whispered softly. "Your husband wants to kiss you."

That made her smile sleepily as she rolled over onto her back. "I never promised to obey you," she reminded him, frowning again at the harsh sound of her voice.

He pouted, as she so often did when she wanted something from him. "But I really, really want a kiss," he mock-begged, and she chuckled and gave in.

They broke apart after a moment and she sat up, wincing slightly. "Sorry, Jack, but I really do need a glass of water. Or maybe some tea."

He nodded in understanding. "Of course. I'll ring for the steward."

...

A while later he set his cup aside and turned to her. "Phryne..."

"Hum?" She let him take the empty cup from her fingers, then tilted her head back obligingly as he laid a gentle finger under her chin and lifted it lightly. "How bad does it look?" she asked, wincing again at the odd sound to her voice. The tea had helped, but not enough.

"Bad," he admitted. "And it'll probably look worse before it looks better. You might want to wear a scarf for a few days."

She shuddered slightly at the thought. "I'm not sure I want to feel anything around my neck for a while, love."

He leaned into her, so his breath tickled her skin. "Not even this?" he asked, and laid the first in a series of gentle kisses over her bruises.

She felt the familiar flush of heat through her body and relaxed with a sigh. "Well, maybe that," she admitted with a smile, before giving herself over once again to the delicious sensation of her husband's touch.

...

They docked in Colombo that evening, and were relieved to see a group of officers from the local police force, alerted by Morse from the Europa, waiting on the dock to escort a handcuffed Sofia Arnay away, along with her jewellery and the collection of passports. They bade farewell to young Robert, who was met by a servant from the family mansion, and then, ashore themselves, were driven to the police station to give their statements, before heading to Government House to formally register their marriage. After which Jack could see Phryne was exhausted, so he flagged down a taxi and directed them back to the ship. They could sight-see another day.

And they did, because by the following morning Phryne was more or less recovered and unwilling to pass up the chance for an elephant ride to the nearest ruins, or the opportunity to sample curries at the local market, or shop for curios in the inevitable bazaar. Thus they once again returned to the ship laden with gifts and souvenirs. And while a part of Jack was heartily sick of wasting hours haggling for extraneous possessions another part of him was immeasurably grateful to see his wife restored to her usual spirits, even if her sweet voice was still decidedly roughened and she was – to her frustration – able to speak rather less than she was accustomed to.

It was a relief to both of them when, four days later, the Europa set sail and they could watch the coast of Ceylon recede behind them.

...

Champagne corks popped and the band played as King Neptune demanded a kiss as tribute from every woman in first class, his mermaids collecting a similar prize from the men. Jack pecked two maids in fancy dress awkwardly on the cheek, while Phryne gave the trident-wielding, fake-bearded chief steward a sultry look and then, at the last moment, tugged his wig down playfully over his eyes before pushing him slightly away. Then the mermaids draped long ropes of fake pearls around everyone's necks as a keepsake to mark their crossing of the equator. Phryne squeezed Jack's hand when it was her turn but gave no other sign of discomfort, although the bruises around her neck had now spread and turned an ugly green-yellow and, as she had predicted, she was still reluctant to wear anything that fitted too closely over them.

They were dancing together when Jack felt a hand on his shoulder. It was a slow dance and he was rather enjoying holding Phryne close, so he initially ignored it, but the grip tightened and he turned, annoyed, to see one of a pair of American gentlemen who had joined the ship in Colombo standing behind him.

"Mind if I cut in?"

Phryne tightened her grip on Jack and glared daggers at the interloper, so he knew she wasn't in favour of the idea.

"As a matter of fact, I do." He began to turn back to Phryne, but the American pulled him back.

"Say now, that ain't the way it goes."

"Isn't," Jack corrected, acidly. "And as a matter of fact, that is exactly the way it goes. I'm dancing with my wife, and I have no intention of allowing you to cut in."

Phryne smiled up at him, pleased. Since they had boarded the Europa in Ceylon, Harvey Price and Marion Nash had succeeded in offending almost everyone in first class, including Phryne, who was not easily offended by unconventional behaviour. It was not that they were intentionally rude, but rather that they seemed to be possessed of a relentless bonhomie and insatiable desire to befriend as many of their shipmates as possible, regardless of whether their shipmates were particularly interested in establishing a friendship or not. And they seemed to have an unerring instinct for the times when Phryne and Jack were sharing a moment of particular intimacy, and just when they most did not want to be disturbed they would hear an enthusiastic American "well, hey there!" and one or both of the men would come bumbling in like overenthusiastic puppies wanting to play. It was enough to drive any newly-wedded couple to distraction.

Now Price was attempting to cut in on their dance, a practise which may have been common in the States but which most certainly was not common in either England or Australia - or on board a ship sailing between the two.

Price sighed, as though he were the one dealing with an oaf and not the other way around. "I don't know what's wrong with you Brits that you won't share your dames."

"First of all," Phryne began, "we're Australian, not British, and secondly I'm his wife, not a box of chocolates to be passed around." She settled herself back into Jack's arms. "Now go away; we're busy."

"I'd like to apologise," Ernie Wolfe said gallantly when she danced with him a little later on, "for the poor manners of my countrymen."

"It's quite alright," Phryne assured him. "I would never judge an entire nationality by a single poor example."

Wolfe glanced across at Jack, who was keeping an eye on them over the head of his own current partner. "I'm not sure your husband feels the same way."

Phryne smiled affectionately. "My husband has a much stronger sense of propriety than I do."

"He's the jealous type?"

She thought about this for a moment. "Actually, no," she remarked, almost surprised. "Not anymore."

...

Two days later, Jack was strolling along the promenade deck when he noticed a dark line on the horizon. Narrowing his eyes, he stared intensely at it. How long had it been, he wondered, since they had left Ceylon? He watched for a while longer, as the line resolved itself slowly into a distant, but nearing, landmass.

"Excuse me!" he asked a sailor who happened to be passing by.

"Yes sir?"

"Over there," he pointed with mounting hope. "Is that Australia?"

The sailor, who had made this trip many times before, heard the excited note in the gentleman's voice and smiled. "It certainly is, sir. We should reach Freemantle tomorrow or the next day."

Jack, as Phryne had noted, had a strong sense of propriety. In particular, he did not run or shout in public except in dire emergency. But now he took off at a run towards the sundeck.

"Phryne!" he called as he rounded the corner.

"Jack?" Phryne laid down the book she was reading and regarded her husband over the top of her sunglasses. "Is everything alright?"

He ran to her side, grinning like an idiot, and grabbed her hands. "Come with me," he urged. "Come, Phryne, come and see."

"Just a minute," she laughed. "Let me slip my shoes back on."

Jack jiggled impatiently from one foot to the other while she replaced her shoes on her feet, then offered his hand to draw her up and led her at a near run back to the railing.

"Look." He stopped and pointed, standing behind her with one arm about her waist. "Look, Phryne, what do you see?"

"Is that..." she peered out across the water, then broke into a grin, turning to meet his excited gaze with her own. "Jack, is that Australia?"

He nodded, and she flung her arms around his neck, crowing with laughter. "Home, Jack. We're almost home!"

She had flown across the world, and he had sailed after her. They had solved a murder, and a robbery, and somehow still found time to become man and wife. And now, after almost a year, at long last, they were coming home.