His intention dawned on Temperance a fraction too late for her to do much to stop his fumbling fingers from their intended task and though the very thought would have made her feel as though she was drowning – ironically – she could see the logic in it. Her fingers joined his and she nodded her understanding, each gasp of air being better used on her lungs than any attempt at speech; soon enough she had pulled, tugged and otherwise ripped the buttons from her coat and it sank without her. Her heavy wool skirt followed suit and she clung to Mr MacKay, still too panic-struck to be appalled, in her shirt and underclothes, both considerably lighter and much more able to keep her head above water.

She spotted the rope he was attached too and reached to take hold of it herself, one arm still firmly around his shoulders. Between the two of them they managed to kick their way to the edge of the boat, although Temperance would acknowledge that he had done most of the kicking, and by the time they reached the side of the boat she was shivering, shock and cold combining to leave her limp and clinging to the rope purely by the grace of the Lord.

“I can’t…I…climb…”

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Wonderful set by Lady <3