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Chapter I Aboard the Indy

 It may have been long ago, but I remember it as though it were yesterday...

 We sat companionably together, laughing ruefully about how his love and great understanding for mathematics was incomprehensible to me, while my love and understanding for music was incomprehensible to him. Nevertheless, there was a tension, a magnetic pull that drew our shoulders together, and pulled our eyes toward each other when we thought the other was not looking. I knew I looked as all the other women and girls on board, in my first truly fashionable dress. My father had disapproved of the empire styles, so new to us in 1800, and therefore, although mine was cut higher than the other women, and I did wear a petticoat with it, still my shoulders and a hint of cleavage were to be seen, as was a hint of the shape of my legs.

Horatio, although I was required to always speak of him as Lt. Hornblower, was proud as a peacock in his dress uniform, now with the silver buckles instead of pinchbeck, and looked extremely proper, until one saw the smoldering eyes and sensual mouth. It was beyond my comprehension how such a man could see himself as "gangly," and "unattractive," yet I knew that this was Horatio's true belief, and not simply a ploy for feminine attention.

I felt honored that he had been directed by his captain to entertain and partner me once more at one of Captain Pellew's famous parties, as well as relieved and flattered that he appeared to enjoy himself, for I had heard from others that he had little polite conversation and was known to stand rigidly, staring straight ahead when confronted with what others would call female charms. This was now the third of the parties that Captain Pellew had organized in the Caribbean ports that my family had been invited to, and the third time that I was partnered with Horatio, although this would be the last time as the Indefatigable, or Indy, as it was known to it's officers and the young of Jamaica, was due to sail for England in two days time. Therefore, tonight, many of the young women of the town and the young officers as well had slipped off to find more private areas to say their goodbyes. Horatio and I, having not developed such a relationship that required goodbyes, were seated along the rail, enjoying the sight of the night sky. Horatio attempted to explain to me the uses of the stars in navigation, but as it had to do with higher maths, I'm afraid that I was confounded. Finally, I touched his sleeve, and laughed up to his face that he truly must stop now ...and then he looked at me

I had never believed before that a look could be as devastating as that look was: full of a heat which I did not understand, and stopping him in mid-word, and I in mid-laugh. Slowly, oh so slowly, perhaps to give me time to stop him, his mouth lowered to mine in a gentle, restrained kiss. His lips were full and soft, and I was so surprised, that my eyes remained open to see his close with a flutter of long, silky lashes.

The kiss was short but I felt that it opened the doors of our souls, and then he ended it with a nibble of my lips. His eyes opened, and if anything, the heat was greater now, and he slid his arms around my shoulder and waist, and kissed me once again, this time with more pressure and more heat. It felt as though something inside of me had melted, and I moaned softly with the melting, and as my mouth opened to his, it felt as though he melted into me as well. His lips left my mouth then, and moved along my cheekbones and jaw, and along the side of my neck as his fingers tangled with my hair. I tried to keep my hands still, for I had been taught that a lady does not participate in such low behavior, but of their own volition, they reached around and then up his strong back, and into those mahogany curls that I had been longing to touch since I had first seen him. They were soft, softer than my younger sisters' hair when I brushed it, and warm. Now he kissed my neck as it joined my shoulders, and the feel was softer than the silk of my shawl, and lighter than the breeze in the starlight. I shivered with his touch, and he tucked me closer into his arms, with my head under his chin. I attempted to caress and kiss his neck and shoulders as he had done mine, but was foiled by his uniform.

"No fair," I whispered, as I kissed the corner of his jaw and the tip of his ear. In a flash, he was on his feet, apologizing to me! "I-I'm sorry, m'lady, this should not have happened..." and then I drew him back down beside me, and kissed him gently on the lips. "No, that was not what I meant."

I loosened his silk cravat, and kissed him again. He stopped all movement, and looked at me warily, as though I had suddenly become a dangerous creature to him. Then I opened but 3 buttons on his shirt collar, in order to reach that smooth, firm skin about his neck and give to him the same pleasure he had given to me. I could see a hint of the shadowy muscles of his chest above the neck of his vest, and the firm tendons joining to his shoulders. I kissed him once more on the lips, and then moved my lips to his neck, and his shoulder, and then to the small hollow at the base of his throat where his pulse sped, and now it was Horatio who moaned softly, and brought my face up to his for a kiss that was searing in it's heat and burned away all thoughts of propriety as he lifted me and shifted me onto his lap, and I felt through my gown his firm muscles supporting me. I still don't know how long that kiss lasted: it seemed to grow through eternity, and yet to end before it had started. For end it did. From the other end of the deck, I heard voices and footsteps approaching, and opened my eyes. Horatio, too, opened his, and almost as quickly as the interlude started, we were standing separately, each trying to straighten ourselves into a semblance of neatness before we were reached. I had the easier job of the two of us, as all I had to do was smooth my hair back into it's chiffon. Horatio, however, was struggling with his buttons and cravat, and I must confess that I giggled at his discomfiture, and at first he glared at me with frustration, and then laughed himself. Although I'm sure that only his Captain would have noted his not-quite-perfect cravat, it was our ill fortune that it was his Captain, along with my father and another planter whom we had heard approaching.

When they reached us, we were leaning on the railing, and Horatio was pointing out stars to me once again. My father, never a fan of teaching a female esoteric knowledge, clapped Horatio on the shoulder, and suggested that he stop wasting his time. Now, I know this sounds cruel, but in a man of his years, and who had never (to his knowledge) met a woman who enjoyed information, he thought he was saving me from boredom. While I knew that the knowledge would not remain with me, I wanted nothing more than to continue listening to that velvety, husky, voice, with its intonations so different from those of my home. I would not have cared if he recited rhymes from the nursery to me, as long as he kept talking... and looking... and, perhaps if I were very lucky, kissing?

  Horatio simply blushed, and I saw his Captain cock an eyebrow at him, which suggested to me that the cravat had been noticed. Stealing a glance at Horatio, I believe that he came to the same conclusion. We started, perforce, to move along with the Captain's party, and after some steps, I realized that I had dropped my shawl at the railing. Horatio pleasantly volunteered to fetch it for me, an act which won him a smiling nod from Captain Pellew, and back he went. I hoped that he would take an instant (or more) to fix his cravat during his errand, and he must have, for it was perfect when we met back at the quarterdeck where the party was being held, and even Captain Pellew made a small salute to him.

I was beginning to realize that the gossip on the island, that Captain Pellew was a rich, humorless man who was a harsh taskmaster to his crew, might well be founded more in misunderstanding than in truth. For a humorless man would simply have embarrassed Horatio, and therefore, me, and a taskmaster would never have hosted and appeared to enjoy the parties that Captain Pellew had. As I came to this conclusion, I smiled a small smile, which Captain Pellew apparently caught, for, to my great disbelief, he winked at me! I had to hide my laughter behind my fan, and even so, my father assumed that I was coughing, and began to pound my back. After the uproar subsided, Captain Pellew announced a new entertainment for the guests at the party: a display of speed and agility by the crew. Each division of 5 men would run a relay race, touching a flag, and returning to the start, to be followed by another member of the same division. The only difference this relay held from those commonly engaged in by children, was that the target flag was atop the mainmast, and so in addition to running on the deck, the competition also included for each man ascending and descending through the riggings. In order to prevent someone "accidentally" missing the flag, Captain Pellew announced that he had stationed Acting Lt. Kennedy atop the mainmast to watch all touches.

The M'men and Lts. were all waiting with their divisions, walking that fine line between calming them too much and slowing them down, or driving them to wild excitement, and inciting dangerous risks. Horatio's division appeared to range widely in ages, from a man clearly older than my father, to young men, clearly pressed on the last trip to England. They were all talking cheerfully, with the biggest and most muscular man in the division, named Styles, taking a starting stance at the line. The rest of the division sorted themselves out by some method I have never yet divined, with the oldest man, Matthews, at the end. I was not sure if that was so that he would not have to run if their division lost, or simply the luck of the draw.

What I knew was that I found it hard to take my eyes from Horatio, although it was fascinating to see how his division was different from the others. For example, there was a visible camaraderie in Horatio's division, as well as a team plan, seen when they sorted themselves out in order. At the same time, one other team was beginning to brawl over who should lead and who should finish, and a third team was complaining that they did not want to be involved at all! And all the while, Archie Kennedy, who had become the pet of all the young women of Jamaica, sat atop the mainmast and exhorted his division (who, to do him credit, were almost as organized as Horatio's division) to do well.

Captain Pellew signaled to his First Leftenant, Mr. Bracegirdle, to start the race, and the men were off. Surprisingly to me, Styles, from Horatio's division was not as quick as I thought he would be. Still, he made up some ground on the way down, as he slid along the ropes (rat lines? shrouds?) with ease. The division that had been arguing over who should lead started a second after the signal was given, but were now in the lead. The division that didn't want to participate was far in the rear, moving very slowly. Archie's division was in the middle of the pack, about even with Horatio's. But as each man took his turn, it was noticeable that Horatio's division was catching up with the leaders, who had run their quickest men first, and were now slowing down.

Horatio's division had apparently chosen to run their slowest men first, and finished with Matthews giving an astounding display of speed and agility, and winning easily. The guests applauded, along with a buzz of comment regarding the race we had seen. While living on an island, we were of course accustomed to ships and riggings, but no one had ever before seen what a trained crew on one of His Majesty's naval ships could accomplish, and it was a sight to behold. Captain Pellew applauded as well, and informed Mr. Bracegirdle that Lt. Hornblower's division was to have an extra spirit ration, which led to huzzahs for Mr. Hornblower, as the crew all trooped below. Music and dancing were resumed, and those officers who were escorting guests began to return. Horatio took slightly longer than some of his shipmates, including Archie, but was full of profuse apologies when he returned, having gone below with his division for a moment. Archie, escorting Sarah, the daughter of the governor of the island, came up to us at that point. I could have wished they had not, for Sarah had long been a thorn in my side. She was absolutely convinced that each man she met was longing to marry her, and appeared to enjoy being cruel to those who did not meet her exacting standards: a title (or the chance of one), a fortune, and an ornament for her looks. It was she who had informed all of the daughters of Jamaica that Lt. Hornblower had no interest in feminine charms. Now, after our interlude at the railing, I began to wonder if Horatio had not sought her favors and company and thus angered her, or if he lacked a title and fortune, and she was thus attempting to be certain the rest of us were aware that he was ineligible. "Well, 'Ratio, once again you've beaten my division in a competition! Will you never let us win?" "Of course, Archie, as soon as you deserve to," replied Horatio. Sarah, who had been looking idly around the deck and tapping one toe to the music, fanned herself gently, and suggested that she was certain that I would prefer to dance with Archie at that time, but to my surprise, Horatio said "But this dance was already promised to me, Miss Everard, so I'm afraid that Archie will have to wait." And with that, he swung me onto the cleared area for dancing. Now, as this was not a waltz but a country dance, there was no opportunity for us to talk, and to sort out what had happed before the race, but at least Horatio was dancing. It was not one of his favorite activities, due to his lack of musical understanding, so I treasured his prevarication all the more. However, the musicians tended to use a strong beat in their playing, and this seemed to help him (and I'm sure, several others), maintain the dance appropriately.

After the dance had ended, Horatio returned to my side, and we moved down the side of the ship to our spot on the railing. Neither of us seemed to know how to begin the conversation, which I suppose was not unusual, and so we stood silently, and I, at least, felt very stupid.

Finally, as I understand these things usually happen, we began to speak at the same time, and wound up laughing again.

I touched his sleeve, and said, "You first."

Horatio took a deep breath, looked out to sea, and said, "I'm sorry, Lady Anne, but I must apologize for my actions earlier. They were not those of a gentleman in His Majesty's Navy, and were unconscionable." I had been looking out to sea as well, but now I turned to watch his face as he spoke. The wonderfully mobile face that had laughed, the eyes that held a spark of mischief as he attempted to explain maths to me and a flame as they neared mine, were rigid, and almost stony as he recited (for that is the only word that comes to mind!) this astonishing apology! "Lt. Hornblower, stop. Are you telling me that you did not enjoy what occurred between us?" I tried to stop my voice from quavering, and think I succeeded, for I wanted above all else honesty from this man. Neither pity nor ingratiating humors would serve. He did not directly answer me. "Lady Anne, you yourself know that baser enjoyment does not render an action appropriate, but more often renders it inappropriate, and a blot on the honor of the actor." "Lt. Hornblower, that does not answer my question. Please," and once again I touched his sleeve (I had touched that sleeve more that evening than ever before, or likely ever again, but since those drugging kisses, I needed to touch Horatio and was afraid to do as I wished. So, I settled for his sleeve). "I need an honest answer, and I will not reproach you for your honesty. *That* is where the honor of the actor lies in this." I watched his face turn to me, his eyes searching mine doubtfully, a small frown bringing together his brows. "Lady Anne, you are wealthy, the daughter of a Lord and planter, friend of those in high places. I shall never be more than an officer in HM's Navy, and while that has been my sole ambition and is my pride, it does not lead to your side." "Lt. Hornblower, you still do not answer my question. I am aware of you and your life, and I am aware of my life. I am also aware that I do not comprehend all that has happened tonight, and I need your assistance to do so. I must know how what has happened tonight has affected you."

His eyes heated slightly, and then he drew back, as though afraid to be near to me, and once again looked out to sea. I feared that it was so, that he did not wish to be near me, and that those kisses that had so destroyed my peace meant nothing more than a physical release for him and that he would be glad to be apart from me. But if that was so, why had he chosen to dance with me after the entertainment when he could have passed me on to Archie? And why were we apart from the party, here on the rail in solitude? Could it be simply his orders from Captain Pellew to entertain me? I couldn't... wouldn't believe such a thing, and yet if not... Would I ever understand men and their intentions? Lt. Hornblower dropped his head and studied his arms on the railing. Then he turned to look at me, and the heat that earlier had so scorched my soul was again unmasked in his eyes. "Lady, I cannot describe how I have been affected. Standing here with you now, it is as though a part of me has been removed from my body, and I must gather you back to me to be whole. But again, it is not proper, and it must not happen." His eyes dropped back to his arms, and I could see the muscles in his back tighten as though to shield from a blow. I moved closer. "Then...since I feel much the same way, is it not ridiculous that you call me Lady, and I must call you Lt. Hornblower, Horatio? Please, let me hear you say my name." And with a groan, he turned to me, pulled me into his arms, and buried his mouth in my hair, saying "Oh, Anne, what have you done to me?" I slid my arms around his back, and snuggled my face to his chest, feeling warm and safe. His arms ranged up and down across my back, learning the length and curves of my body and leaving heat where they passed. His lips pressed to my ear, and then, wonder of wonders, his tongue tasted the skin between my ear and hair, and was warmer by far than his mouth or hands. I gasped, and looked at Horatio in awe, and finally, he kissed me again on the lips. Those warm, wide lips touched mine gently, then with more firmness, opening my mouth to his, and then that silky, smooth tongue touched mine, and I felt a melting, dropping sensation in my middle that I had never known before. I pressed against him, feeling through all the layers of clothing we wore how firm his muscles were, and how we fit together as do pieces of a toy puzzle. His fingers splayed above the back of my bodice further heated my body, and their calluses were a contrast to the smoothness of his lips and tongue. Finally, we broke the contact, and I said, "I trust that means that you enjoyed this."

 It must have been the wrong thing to say, for Horatio released me, and again leaned over the railing. I was about to wish that I was the railing, when he slowly said, as though to someone who willfully misunderstands, "Again, Anne, what I have or have not enjoyed is not important here. You will, I know, be expected to make an advantageous marriage. I can be thought nothing except a fortune hunter here, and your father will certainly not countenance a relationship, even if I were to remain here longer. But that too is a factor: the Indy sails for England in 2 days time, and I will be gone. When the Indy returns I shall not be aboard as I am to be reassigned when we reach Portsmouth. So, you see, this should not have happened, and is *not* to happen again."

"Horatio, I understand what you say, and I also understand the needs and requirements of propriety, many of which I have shattered tonight. It is true that I will need to marry to suit my family, and that is one fragment of my life. It is also true that you fascinate me, and that I have never been as ...driven... by my response to a man as I am by you," and his eyes grew wide as his head whipped around to stare at me, "No, you great silly, I have not been free with my kisses or my name, but that is my point. I do not know what is to come of this in the short term, although I do know that there will be nothing in the long term. But, unless you do not wish it for your own reasons, I would have this fragment of time... of my life... with you." That was far bolder than I could have imagined being earlier in the afternoon, but it seemed that my mouth and my body both had taken control of my mind, and were jointly determined to have what they could of Horatio. To tell the truth, I think my mind may have been encouraging them to continue as well. Now it was my turn to stare at my arms on the railing. Had I been too bold? Was Horatio now regarding me with distaste that my actions and desires were so unladylike? Would I ever feel that warm, silky skin at his shoulder and chest under my lips and fingers again? And then his hands turned me to him, and mine slid under his coat, closer yet to his body as he kissed my eyelids, my cheekbones, my throat, and finally, again, my lips.

"Oh, Anne, as if I could refuse you, even if I wished to! But know that I will not harm your chances of fulfilling your family's requirements. And in that, you will not change me." A final kiss to my forehead, and Horatio released me to take my elbow and escort me back to the main gathering which was now diminishing as guests departed for their homes. I returned to my father's side, bid a pleasant evening to Capt. Pellew and Lt. Hornblower, and sat silent on the carriage ride home.

 Chapter II

Morning at Home

I woke early the next morning, with a cool sea breeze blowing the light curtains at my windows. Cat, my personal maid (so named according to the family history, because as an infant her cries sounded like those of a cat), entered with my chocolate and a roll.

"Well, Miss Anne, awake already? You must have had a boring night to have needed so little sleep!" Cat laughed at me, for well she knew my slothfulness in the mornings. We had been raised together, and she was only a few weeks older than my 17 years and 2 months. I only smiled, and sipped my chocolate as Cat began to gather my morning toilette.

"No, not that one. I'll wear the lavender today. I feel like royalty," I said as she removed a pale green ensemble. She looked at me, raised her eyebrows and made a moue with her mouth, but did as I asked. I moved to my dressing table, and Cat began to brush my hair smooth before tying it back into a smooth tail with a deep purple ribbon that matched the one about the waist of my dress.

I understand that there was a new and exciting entertainment last night at Capt. Pellew's party," Cat began, while we looked at each other in the mirror. "Yes, he held a relay race for divisions of seamen to go up the mainmast and back down. It was exciting to see all of those men racing up the riggings, and then flying back down. Some moved so fast, I almost thought they had fallen! It was very different than what we see of the transport crews." "But I understand that that Lt. Hornblower's division won." Cat held Horatio in low esteem, partially I'm sure because her older sister was Sarah Everard's maid and no doubt repeated Sarah's views on him, but also because of something I had heard whispered among the men and servants, but never explained or seen about "hosing on deck"... I still didn't understand what was meant, or what the problem was... I mean, didn't the crew always hose and scrub the deck? Wasn't that how it was kept so clean? Well, whatever the meaning, Cat really did know better than to tell tales to me.

"Lt. Hornblower's division demonstrated the most organization and forethought, and therefore deserved to win. Are you concerned with a sailor in another division that you would rather have seen win the race?"

Cat blushed, lowered her eyes, and shook her head firmly. "No, Miss Anne, none of those sailors for me! Why, they'll all be gone and no telling when or if they'll come back! No, Miss Anne, I'll choose a man who stays here with me!"

"Yes, Cat, I think that would be the wisest course. After all, if you left with a sailor, who would wake me so gently in the mornings when I wish to sleep?"

We laughed (and it seems that during that week I laughed more than I ever have before or since, and I do not yet know why. Perhaps it was the beautiful Caribbean weather, perhaps the people I was with, or perhaps it was just a time for laughter). As I was leaving my room, Cat told me that my father wished to see me in his office before I left for town. As the eldest daughter in a motherless home, one of my duties was to oversee the shopping for the household, and this was a day when the farmers would be bringing produce to the village for sale. While our plantation was large and supplied most of our needs, there were still occasional purchases to be made in town. Perhaps Father had a special purchase for me to make. I was not overly concerned, for although I knew that he did not understand me, I also knew that he loved me in his own way, and wished only to see me happy in life.

At the foot of the stairs, I turned right and knocked on the door of Father's office. He bade me enter, and when I opened the door, I could see through the large doors at the end of the room that the beach was blue and gold, with the side windows giving onto the lush, green gardens of our home. Father was continuing to check his figures, so I moved to the beach doors, and looked out over the sea. Fishing boats were already returning from their morning sallies, and children who worked in the kitchens were returning with the morning's catch of crustaceans for luncheon. A typical, beautiful, day on my island home.

Finally Father turned, and said, "Well, Anne, sit down. It is beyond me how you can dance and talk all night, and then be energetic in the morning. Although your mother was the same way when we were courting, so perhaps it is a thing you get from her."

"I don't know, sir, but I do know that I feel happy and good this morning, and ready to face the day."

"I am glad to hear that, Anne, for you will have a rather busy day today. I spoke with Governor Everard last night, and Captain Pellew, and several other planters. Many of us on the island have been concerned regarding our daughters and their futures. Those of you who have been betrothed and married to planters' sons from the islands appear content and happy, but many of you do not seem to have found an appropriate match in our home waters. In the past, it has not been practicable for you to return to England to meet eligible men because of piracy and war, but Captain Pellew assures me that a safe passage may be had at this time. Therefore, when the convoy of goods sails in 2 days under the Indy's escort, one of the ships will also take you, Sarah Everard, and Melissa and Claudette Smyth-Byrne to England. You will go to your aunt in London, and be presented at court this season. We will see if perhaps you can be persuaded to settle your affections on someone there."

I was astonished, to say the least. While I knew that the physical feelings I had felt last night with Horatio were considered acceptable within a marriage bond (although always something of a matter of shame for losing control and propriety), I had not thought to seek such a marriage partner yet. I was, after all, only 17, and had thought that I had not to hurry. I expressed this to my father, being careful not to seem upset or angry, for I truly was only surprised. Fortunately, as I have said, my father did care for my happiness and content.

"Yes, I know this is sudden. It is not something that I have looked for either, but during this lull in the war and consequent piracy, Captain Pellew assures me that your safety on the voyage can be guaranteed at this time, and that this may not be the case when the Indy returns, or for several years thereafter. If you think you may have a partiality toward a son of the islands, tell me, and you shall stay here. If not, it is time for you and I to think of your future, and to place you where it may be found. Consider this when you go to town today, and let me know your decision when you return, for if you choose to go, we must make preparations. And if you choose not to go, I must inform the master of the *Enchante* that you will not be sailing with him. There is limited passenger space on board, and in addition to you 4 young ladies, each of you will take your personal maid, and Miss Georgia, the elder sister of Governor Everard will act as your chaperone on the voyage. So you see, if you do not go, there will be space for another daughter to return to England, and that family must prepare quickly as well."

"I understand, Father, and I will consider this carefully today. I will return before luncheon is ready, and will let you know my decision at that time."

And so we parted, Father back to his books and figures; I to the carriage that waited at the front door. I climbed silently into the carriage, and let my thoughts take me where they would as we drove into town.

As I perused the stalls and shops for produce and spices, as well as fabrics brought by merchants, I considered my options. No, I had never been attracted to the sons of the planters. I had not, however, considered this a problem because of my age. Perhaps I simply was not ready to be attracted to a man. But then last night... with Horatio... ahhh, I was ready to be attracted. I no longer had any question about that. But now that I was ready, would I be attracted to a man from home? Well, I didn't think so. For one thing, many local men were at the party last night, and I had politely greeted several acquaintances this morning in town, and I was not attracted to any of them. No, it appeared that I was attracted to Horatio, and not to men in general. Were there men like Horatio who might attract me in the islands? I didn't think so. Given my father's position, as well as our friendship with the Everards (regardless of my feelings for Sarah), I had met most of the eligible men in the Caribbean already, and was not attracted to them. All right, were there more men like Horatio in England? At least that seemed possible. After all, that was where Horatio was from. And he was right that, although there was a strong attraction, we could not develop a lasting affection. So, now I knew what I would do. If I was attracted to men like Horatio, and not men unlike Horatio, I must find another man like him who would be appropriate. I could only hope that such a man existed, and that he would be found in England among my aunt's acquaintances. I completed my shopping, and gave orders for the parcels to be taken to the wagon that had followed me into town and would return to the plantation. As I was approaching the carriage, I saw Acting Lt. Archie Kennedy approaching me. He removed his hat, and made a courtly full bow, with an elegant leg. I smiled, and returned a deep court curtsy to him in kind.

"Well, Lady Anne, and how do you do this glorious morning?" he smiled, as he took some small parcels from my hands.

"Oh, it is such a pity that the weather is so foul here in Jamaica that we are obliged to remain inside for fear of the chill and rain," I twinkled back to him. We walked along, chatting of inconsequential things, back to my carriage.

"Did you enjoy the party last night," he asked finally. "Of course, but then I have always enjoyed Captain Pellew's parties. Do you know if other ship's companies are so amiable? If so, I hope for more fleets to anchor here!"

"As far as I know, Annie, the Indy is unusual in that respect, as unusual as Jamaica itself."

"What a pity then, for we have all enjoyed our time with you here, and only hope that your officers and men have enjoyed it as well." "Oh, I think we have. I know that some among our crew have not enjoyed other landfalls and occasions near so well as they have being here."

"Truly? Oh, Archie, what a nice thing to say. I only hope that it is so."

A Yes, I know that I had told Horatio that I had not been free with my kisses or name, but Archie had become like a pet, or a big friendly brother to me in the weeks that the Indy was harbored here waiting for the convoy, and we had been on a naming basis for some time now. He had *not* however, been granted my lips. Nor did I intend for him to know that Horatio had. Although I knew from discussions with my friends that Archie was considered to be incredibly handsome, with thick gold hair and blue eyes that women would give jewels for, and a swagger to his walk that suggested he was aware of his looks, he did not attract me in that way. Apparently, I required mahogany curls and eyes, and a still, quiet depth of the soul that I now could find only in Horatio. Still, in our talks I had learned that much of Archie's behavior was an act, and that even as Horatio believed himself to be gangly and unattractive, Archie believed himself to be too insignificant for notice. Honestly, and men say that women are vain and overly concerned with their looks and popularity! If only they would listen to themselves!

I had, however, learned something of Horatio from Archie. Horatio was the son of a doctor in Kent, and had joined the navy late, after attending school much longer than most boys. Archie told me that Horatio loved to read, and could make classical allusions all through the day, but that rarely did the crew or officers know what he was referring to. Nevertheless, I had gotten the sense from Archie that Horatio was a valued member of the crew: valiant, intelligent, honorable, and that Archie considered Horatio to be a model for him of what a Lt. should be. I also knew that Horatio was not overly impressed with the daughters of the island, and had been heard to grumble over being impressed into service escorting some of the local girls at parties and dances. I may have become bold in the past day regarding Horatio, but I confess that I was not willing to ask Archie how Horatio felt about me, although I wished I could find some way to do so.

At that point, Archie tilted his head sideways and looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. "Do you know who else enjoyed the party lastnight?" he asked, mischievously. "Well, let's see. I am sure that Sarah enjoyed your company, and I know that my father had a pleasurable conversation with Captain Pellew... oh, and the Smyth-Byrne sisters were fascinated by the race the divisions ran... is there anyone else?"

He gave a little crow of laughter, and a slight squeeze to my elbow as he guided me. "Lady Anne, it must be that thoughts of you kept the entire wardroom awake last night, as Lt. Hornblower insisted on trying to determine what is so entrancing about music to inspire you so. Now, you are not the first person to love music that he has known, but you are the first person to drive him to discuss music with the rest of us. I could almost wish you to perdition, for then I might have gotten some sleep!" "Oh, Archie! You cannot hold me responsible for Lt. Hornblower!"

"Oh, Annie! But I do! I have known Horatio for several years now, since we were on the Justinian together, and this is new behavior for him. I think it is also new behavior for you?" and his eyes became serious. "Horatio is my friend. I hope you are also my friend, and I would not see either of you hurt. Are you sure that you know what you are entering into?"

I sighed, and sat on a bench near the carriage. "No," I shook my head. "I do not have the slightest idea what I am entering into, nor do I have the slightest idea what Horatio... yes, and he too calls me 'Anne' ...is entering into. All I know is that I have never felt this way in my life, and that I want to continue to feel this way, and that it cannot be so. No lasting relationship can exist between us. But that does not stop me from wishing." Archie sat beside me, and patted my hand. "If it is any consolation, I believe that Horatio feels similarly. He was most insistent that I come ashore today to purchase stores, and reminded me several times that were I to meet you, I should give you his regards."

"Archie! I thought you were my friend!" I cried in astonishment.

"What? What have I done? Have I done something wrong?"

"Horatio sent a message to me, and you waited to deliver it? How could you?"

"Oh, Annie," he gave a laugh, and a small quick hug to my shoulders, "and if I had delivered the message sooner, and you did not feel this way, would you have liked it any better?"

"Archie, don't be reasonable! You cannot know..."

His finger touched my lips. "Yes, I can. And I will help you and Horatio as best I can, my almost-little-sister. Now, Horatio will be free this afternoon, and will likely be in town on errands. Do you think that you will still be here then?"

I was about to say yes, as my schedule was generally my own to manage, when I remembered that I had told my father I would give him my answer about traveling to England at luncheon. I thought for a moment. "No, Archie, I will not be. But my father gave me some news this morning. It appears that the Enchante will be traveling with the convoy, but will also be carrying several daughters of our community to England, including myself. I must return home to set packing and arrangements in motion, but I do know that I can make a reason to return to town by mid-afternoon, and can remain here until early evening. Will that suffice - or am I being too bold?" Archie was the only man of whom I could ask that question.

"Yes, that will serve. I will tell Horatio, and unless fire or flood intervenes, he will find you in town this afternoon. Now, you must return home, and I must return to the Indy." And with that, we parted.

The carriage ride home was filled with rapid thoughts: what should I take, could Horatio possibly want to see me today as much as I wanted to see him, how much dunnage would be allowed, could he possibly taste as sweet as I remembered, could I leave my family for an aunt I had only met once in a country I had never seen, and had Horatio truly kept the wardroom awake all night over me? Did I truly think we could find a quiet, private place to be alone together in daylight in town? Or was that not the purpose of his seeking me out? The pleasure in knowing that I would not be left by Horatio in 2 days, but would travel in the same convoy was counterbalanced by the pain in knowing that Horatio would travel in the Indy, and so I would not be with him after we sailed. Oh, how incoherent I was becoming! Could I make it through this day?

I mounted the steps of my home still mulling over all the new information I had. Could it be that Horatio felt as off-balance as I over this? Was there a chance that I could find someone like him if I were to return to England? (Yes, I know that return is the wrong word if one has never been there, but in the islands of the West Indies we were brought up to consider it "returning" for we were English, even if we had never set foot on that island.)

I know it sounds cold to tell of the intensity of my feelings for Horatio, and then announce that I would seek someone like him, but in that time and place the notion that romantic love would outweigh all was not accepted in the upper classes, and neither Horatio nor I could have gone that far against our teachings. Also, I knew that I could not be happy with a husband who was not with me, and I knew that Horatio could not be happy without the sea. While in peacetime, a Captain's wife might accompany him on some short voyages, a very junior Leftenant's wife was not so free, and during war, none might do so. No, pining for Horatio was no more reasonable than when my youngest sister pined for a blue parrot in place of her green one. Rather, the best choice would be to make the most of what was available, and go on to live my life. With that, I entered the dining room for luncheon.

Chapter III

And What of the Afternoon?

Luncheon in my home was almost always a pleasant affair. My sisters were released from their lessons, in part because luncheon itself became a lesson in manners and in part because their governesses and tutorsneeded relief from their high spirits as well. Our father almost always joined us, and would occasionally tell us of friends and acquaintances he had met with during the morning, or would meet in the evening. Today, while the footman seated me, Father nodded and passed me a plate of roasted beef.

"Anne, do you have an answer for me?" he asked.

My sisters fell quiet, their chattering stilled at this departure from our usual easy conversation. They did not appear frightened or concerned, but curious.

"Yes, Father, I have an answer, and I will go to England on the *Enchante* to seek my future there." With that, both sisters began babbling at once: when was I going, would they go too, how would they go on without me, and how would I go on without them? Father fondly, but firmly quieted them, and requested the butler inform Cat of our plans, and have her begin to organize my things for transport. Then we discussed what would occur.

The *Enchante* would have room for several trunks for each of us in her hold, although we would be limited to one sea chest available in the cabin for each of us, and one for each two servants. As we would be the only passengers on board, no gowns or formal wear would be necessary. All four of us girls would share a room on the ship, and would be expected to sleep in hammocks, as no bunks were built into transport ships except for the captain. Miss Georgia would be housed in an adjoining cabin, and would have absolute control over our activities, including confining us in our cabin if we (or the crew) should become objectionable, although neither was felt to be likely (I think this was mentioned as a means to deter my sisters from wanting to go also, although I cannot be sure of that). The trip itself was likely to take several weeks, if not 2 months, and we would be expected to make do with inadequate space, sailing rations if the trip outlasted the fresh food, limited water, and lack of company. Father indicated that he regretted sending me under such privation, but that the times occasioned his haste, and he was sure I would understand. Messages were being sent via a courier that would be expected to reach England at least several weeks before us, so that relatives could meet us upon our arrival.

I had expected all of this, and so was neither surprised nor perturbed. Instead, we discussed what I could expect in London and during the Season. Father seemed to think that I would be most enthralled at the mention of balls, but then he never did really grasp that I enjoyed learning about how people live, and that what I looked forward to most of all was seeing life on a ship during the voyage, and how London differed from Jamaica upon arrival.

Following luncheon, my sisters returned to the nursery for a rest period during the heat of the day, and I began to discuss with Cat what would be necessary to take of my things. The answer was almost everything, as well as ample funds for more. You see, given the climate in Jamaica, all of my belongings were suited to hot summer days, and England, of course, also suffered through winter. With the lack of time before embarkation, I would not be able to have my dressmaker create appropriate gowns, but would have to purchase them in England under the guidance of my aunt. I could at least hope that her taste was more modern than Father's! We removed dresses from armoires, and planned which would required freshened accessories, and what was complete as it was. This was my plan. In order to pack efficiently, I must acquire those freshened accessories today, and that meant another trip into town, which meant I would be able to see Horatio. Before mid-afternoon, I had a list of items to purchase. Although Father suggested that I simply send Cat and spend the remainder of the afternoon recruiting my strength for the voyage, I stated that I needed to see what was available myself and could not delegate that responsibility. He demurred, as I expected, and once again I entered the carriage for the trip to town.

This time, however, I was not occupied in thought for the journey. Oh no. Instead, I fairly bounced on the seat, anxious for my first sight of Horatio, anxious to be with him again. Fortunately, the driver and footman had by this time heard the news that I was to be leaving for England, and assumed that my excitement was due to the journey, and not for any other reason. I left the carriage at the town center, and suggested that both men retire to the inn on the square, where I would meet them when I was finished. I emphasized that it might take me quite some time to finish, and that they should not be alarmed if it was so. Then I left for my purposes.

Truly, there was not much necessary for me to purchase. Father had always been generous with my clothing allowance, if stuffy regarding fashions, and I knew that I would be able to freshen and accessorize much with what I already had. However, for form's sake, I shopped and compared, and purchased ribands for my dresses and hair, and gloves against the chill in England. As I was leaving the milliners, I saw Horatio approaching me in company with the First Leftenant of the Indy, Mr. Bracegirdle. Both men bowed, and offered to carry my parcels. As I had only a few, Horatio was able to carry them all, and suggested that Mr. Bracegirdle continue on his own errands. Fortunately, either Mr. Bracegirdle approved of our rendezvous, or, knowing Horatio, assumed that he was merely being polite, and left quickly.

Horatio and I looked at each other, almost as if to see if we really remembered each other, and I found that I had forgot how entrancing was his smile, the hint of knowledge, the gaze that could change from proper to heated in an instant, and the scent of man of the sea... perhaps some sweat, wool, and a portion that was indefinable, but heady, and must be Horatio himself. We neither spoke, but turned and walked as though toward the square, and then further on, and then past the center of town. I watched him closely out of the corner of my eye, seeing the smooth play of his muscles in his tight, white breeches; the easy balance of his shoulders as he walked alongside me; the length of his fingers as they shifted on my packages. I felt a flush stain my cheeks as I looked at his hands, and felt his eyes on mine. When I looked up, Horatio had a disgustingly superior and smug smile on his face that caused me to laugh, and then him to laugh. We left the main thoroughfare, which at this point had narrowed to a lane, and moved behind an outbuilding of an empty house, into the lea of privacy afforded by its shelter, where Horatio inelegantly dumped my packages, and backed me up to the wall, kissing me fiercely.

I was shocked, but not so much that I couldn't participate wholeheartedly in the kiss. I slid my arms about his body, sending one towards his neck under his coat, and one lower, to find the shape of his hips in those fascinating breeches. His arms too, moved over my body as though to relearn the length and breadth of it, and then settled me closer to him on my toes to reach up along his body and feel his length along me. And what length it was... hot, fiery, insistent, and fitting so well that again I was reminded of a puzzle interlocking pieces to make a new whole. Again I undid his cravat... (easier today, as Horatio had merely tied it as a neckerchief and tucked the ends under his vest, unlike the formal wrapping he had worn last night), unbuttoned his collar, and slid my hands onto his smooth skin. Without releasing my mouth, Horatio unbuttoned his vest, and shrugged both vest and coat from his shoulders. I had not realized before that his linen shirt featured an open placket below the collar almost to his waist, and now all that beautiful, ivory skin in such contrast to his tanned face and hands was there for me. I slid my hands down from his neck to the center of his chest, and then to the side where I could feel his heart pounding as tribal drums. His hands shifted me again to be close to him, and then one of those incredible, long, hands, moved languorously up my side, and slid across the side of my breast, leading to a gasp from both of us.

"Does it feel as good to you?" I asked, as I boldly moved my palm across his breast as well, feeling his nipple jump to my hand - a shock, for while I knew that men had nipples, and I knew that women's nipples must needs be sensitive in order to nurse infants, I had never imagined that men's nipples would be sensitive to touch as well.

"You tell me," he breathed against my jaw, as his palm warmed my breast from outside my gown, and then he slipped a finger inside the neckline to caress the top of my breast above my nipple.

My head dropped back, exposing my throat, and Horatio trailed kisses down the length of it to the tops of my breasts, and then slid my gown down over my breasts, leaving them covered only with a thin chemise. He bent his head to my nipple, lipping and tonguing it, while my fingers tangled in his curls and my breathing came rough and fast with the sensations, and his hand smoothed and weighed my other breast.

I have ever been cursed with a mind that must consider everything at once, even if it is not the proper time to do so, and I found myself considering if these feelings, this need, this drive were the true reason for societal strictures on unmarried couples being alone together. I know that had I even come close to imagining the feel of Horatio, both to my hands and lips and from his, my father would have had to marry me off long ago if only to save our reputation! I could now understand wantons, and felt a deep desire to continue on with our explorations, no matter the cost.

My knees wobbled with the sensations running through my body, and we knelt together on the grass, then sat, then laid, with Horatio atop me, still kissing and fondling each other. And, oh, the blessed weight of a man on my hips... the length of his legs and body measured against mine... and then Horatio rolled quickly, taking me with him, and now I was seated astride his rocking hips, with an intimate feel of his body reaching for mine through his clothing - as I'm afraid my skirts and petticoats were rucked up about my thighs. The feel of his moleskin breeches, covering his firm body, rocking with our heartbeats... it was as though his body called to mine, and my inner core responded with a wetness I had never before felt. His hands now pulled the neckline of my chemise down, and spilled my breasts into his hands, as water over a fall into the depths of a pool. He teased and taunted my nipples with his fingers, then crunched up as he tugged me down for his lips to close on my breasts again. It was an exquisite sort of pain, one that I hoped never to end, and one that I determined to give him in return. I smoothed his shirt up out of his waistband, away from his body, and leaned down to suckle his nipples as he had done mine, and he arched his back as though in pain, but also held my head to him, murmuring "Don't stop," as his other hand slid up my leg outside my skirts, and clenched and stroked my buttocks. I stretched out along his length as he had done to me, and though the feel of his skin on my breasts made me gasp, I again felt his body seeking my warmth, and an equal drive for me to be filled by him... to take his seed... to grow new life.

  As that thought, if something so incoherent could be counted a thought, entered my mind, Horatio seemed to wake from a dream. His hand ceased it's explorations, while the other gently tipped my chin up for a sweet and short kiss, and then gently moved me to sit as he did, then to rise, when he raised the necklines of my clothing to their proper places, and buttoned his collar. "Anne," he said, leaning over to stroke my hair and cheek with the palm of his hand, "You make all my resolutions to respect your family dissolve into nothingness just by being... and yet I would not have it any other way... I think. I must admit that my life would be easier, although not nearly so rewarding, had I not met you."

I turned my head to place a small kiss in his palm before speaking. "I well take your meaning, and am myself torn between continuing as we have begun, or returning to safety from myself at town."

He shook his head, a slight smile, "Lady Anne, how is it that you have hidden this wanton, bold girl in your skin for so long? Has she never crept out to play before this?"

"No, Horatio, as far as I know, she had not existed until last night when you called her forth, and now I do not know how I shall tame her again."

"Then it is as well that we sail tomorrow evening when the convoy is finally assembled. Captain Pellew does not favor leaving at dusk, but prefers that to waiting through another full night. So tame your wanton you must, as I will not endanger your eventual marriage and I hope you will not either."

"Horatio, there is something I must tell you," I said as he clothed himself in the formal garb of an officer again, and we gathered my packages from the grass. "My father has decided to send me to England with the convoy, along with 3 other girls, so that we may seek husbands there. We shall be traveling on the *Enchante*, chaperoned by the governor's elder sister, as part of the convoy."

He stopped, considered. "This is a complication. Not a problem, not a cause for despair, but a complication. I was informed by Captain Pellew this morning that the *Enchante* would be transporting some of the daughters of island families to England, but was not given any names."

"I know how complicated this becomes, and I too was just made aware of this during the morning. I am aware that you will be on the Indy with your duties there and I will be aboard the *Enchante*, attempting to stomach Sarah Everard for far too long for comfort, but know also that my thoughts will be of you, and my heart will recall your touch and scent fondly as we go." He pulled me into his arms again, not to kiss and caress this time, but merely to hold close once more. I snuggled into his embrace, breathing deep of his scent... subtlely changed, intensified since our interlude, and imprinting his vest button into my cheek.

He sighed. "We must return now. I have already been told off to supervise the loading of the *Enchante* tomorrow afternoon, but know that we neither of us will be able to find time to rendezvous with all that we must accomplish. This is farewell, and my heart... and body as well... will recall you no less fondly than you do me. Would that things were different, and that I could approach your father, but I treasure what you have given me and would not seek to change our time last night and today.@

"Yes, you have given me my fragment, and I will cherish it. I know now what I must find in a man to be content, and thank you for that knowledge." With that, we turned and walked back to town, and to the inn where I recalled my driver and footman to take me home. As we drove out of town, I turned and saw Horatio standing in the road, solemnly watching me drive out of his life.

Chapter IV

Changes

My carriage ride home, in direct contrast to the earlier ride to town, was quiet and thoughtful. I was still in awe of the feelings my fragment of life with Horatio had engendered, and found them impossible to keep out of my mind long enough to reason through what my next move should be. I would try to plan what would be in my sea chest, and Horatio's eyes would distract me. I would try to arrange in my mind how to best go on in England, and I would recall the length of his legs. I would consider how best to alleviate the pain of living with Sarah Everard for the voyage, and would feel Horatio's warm skin against mine. Then I was brought up short. How shallow! How utterly snobbish! How could I have condemned Sarah and several other acquaintances for considering a man only by his title and wealth rather than for himself, and yet here I was considering Horatio only in terms of his physical attributes. Oh, yes, there it was. Did I try to spend time talking with him, learning of his dreams and hopes? Did I seek a common intellectual goal? No, all I did was act the wanton and glory in physical sensation. How lowering to discover that for all my self-congratulation I could be as shallow as the next person! And then as I turned my head, a whiff of Horatio's scent rose to my nostrils, and I was carried away again.

Upon my arrival, I again began to organize my things for the voyage, forcing my brain to concentrate on the task at hand rather than my memories of Horatio, and the evening passed quickly. I finally fell asleep with reminders, plans, and fashions whirling through my head, only to dream an incredibly arousing dream that Horatio and I had continued in our explorations of this afternoon, although the dream remained frustratingly vague, for I was not certain exactly how one proceeded from the point Horatio and I had left off at. When I awakened at dawn, feeling as though I had not slept in weeks, I was drenched in sweat and my breasts and nether regions were tender with longing. Yesterday I had gloried in these feelings, but this morning I wished them to perdition.

When Cat arrived with my roll and chocolate, I was already dressed and considering which of my books and sheet music I would take with me. My violin was already packed in one of my trunks, its wooden case cushioned on all sides by soft clothing. How I wished I could take it with me in the cabin, but the lack of space demanded that I not have it during the voyage, even though it was the activity that calmed me more than any other and I would have sore need of that living with Sarah. I would have liked to have played it for Horatio, to see if he could not begin to appreciate what I found entrancing in music, but then I recalled that I would not be with Horatio. Unfortunately, this realization combined with my lack of rest left me in a foul humor, and by mid-morning, everyone including my sisters and Cat were seeking reasons to be other than where I was. I sent word that I would not be at luncheon, and instead retired to my favorite spot in the gardens: a shaded bench beneath a wide, old, tree where I could read or think in peace.

I settled my back against the trunk, and looked up through the leafy branches. As a child, I had done this until I grew dizzy and seemed to flow up through the tree and into the sky. Today I did not do so, but attempted to reorder my intentions and life. I had made good progress, when I heard footsteps and voices on the path. Hoping against hope that it was Horatio, I rose. I was not sure whether to be pleased or disappointed to discover that it was Archie, with Melissa and Claudette Smyth-Byrne, the twins who would be sharing the cabin with Sarah and I on the voyage, one on each arm.

"Well, Lady Anne, and are you set to sail?" called Archie gaily. "My companions assure me that they cannot bear to be home with their packing, and must be out and about to take leave of their friends while others do the toil."

"Oh, Anne," chimed in Melissa or Claudette, (I could not tell which, for they affected identical clothing and were as like as two grains of sand from the beach, even to their coloring, as they had golden skin and hair with blue eyes), "Are you not thrilled? Is this not the chance of a lifetime? To be protected from harm by our stalwart navy, to perchance be stopped by pirates and boarded! How can one remain calm?"

This was so like the twins. While I enjoyed their company, they frequently flew up in the boughs with improbabilities and imagination, and at times gently chided me for being so practical. My father once compared us to a pair of chattering parakeets with a robin when speaking to Mr. Smyth-Byrne, who agreed and laughed. I am still not certain how we became friends, but perhaps we were all able to suspend our natures long enough to enjoy each other. We moved through the gardens together, discussing styles and dresses, and with Archie giving us information on the best way to cope with swaying floors - no, decks - and suggesting that one or more packs of cards be brought on board to provide activity. He grinned up at us from a tilted head, and asked if we wanted tips on dealing with our hammocks, a question he well knew to be beyond the bounds of propriety. One of the twins rapped him on the sleeve with her fan, while the other whirled away with a toss of her head.

Mr. Kennedy! To discuss such with ladies... well, I never!" But the effect of the words was spoiled by the giggle and blush that accompanied them. Truly, Archie was a pet and friend to all. If only he could see that, and see what others felt his worth to be. After a time, the twins wandered further down the path ahead of Archie and I, and we had a few moments of privacy. "So, Annie, your afternoon was peaceful yesterday?"

"Archie, 'peaceful' is not the best word. But I would not have missed it for the world. Were the officers allowed any rest last night?"

"Yes, but I believe that much of that was due to Horatio having the early watch, and most of us having already succumbed to sleep when he returned below decks. I have rarely seen him so in alt as on his return from town, and yet he seemed to swing between joy and despair this morning."

"I can understand that, for I have felt the same. Archie, I hope that you never feel this way."

ABut yesterday both of you were so happy. What has changed?"

"Nothing has changed, and that is the problem. We have not named our feelings to each other - I'm not sure that we've named them to ourselves yet - but we both know that there is no future for us together.

A Therefore, when I recall yesterday... the party on the Indy... I am in alt myself. When I recall that that is all there will ever be, I am in despair. And yet, how can it be despair, when I have made the choice to go to England myself? If my despair were real, would I not be prostrate at these events? How do I reconcile my emotions with my life?"

Archie hugged me gently, and while I absorbed strength from his sturdy shoulders, I found that part of my mind was also cataloging the differences between his build and Horatio's. No, while I felt strongly about Archie, the connection, the force that drew me to Horatio, was not present. But Archie was good to snuggle with, to receive comfort from.

"You know that I would do anything I could to help you, Annie, but I think there is nothing to be done."

"I know, Archie, thank you, and that is what helps me to move on with my life. And on that note, I must return to packing, and I'm sure Melissa and Claudette will be missing you by now."

"Actually, I think they are probably very happy by themselves, but you are right. I will see you when you come to board later this afternoon." He gave me another small hug, then walked down the path to find the twins.

I returned to my rooms, calmer now than I had been in the morning. Cat had finished packing the large trunks, and we had chosen the informal dresses to be packed in the sea chest for transport in the cabin. Surveying the over-full chest, I admitted to myself how much easier this task was with the new empire fashions than it would have been in my mother's day, when full skirts with side hoops and heavy stays were worn. I was sure that perhaps 2 dresses could have been taken then, and at least with the thin muslin dresses and chemises, I could take several sets of clothing and still have space for a nightgown and light robe. Outer wear, a cape and stout shoes, and even an oiled jacket. Needlework and a book for pleasant occupation. Grooming items: my mirror and brush, soap and a towel, and the chest was complete.

Cat informed me that she would be sharing a sea chest with her sister, and that as they were the same size, her sister would be bringing clothing for both of them. That certainly relieved my mind, as I had only just realized that it would have been extremely awkward to finish loading her chest at the docks, and with all the hurried packing, neither Cat nor her sister could reasonably be expected to get the necessary things to the Governor's mansion.

Two footmen were called to remove the trunks and chest to the wagon waiting below. My things would be taken to the docks early so that the ship could be loaded and packed safely. After dinner, we who were traveling would go to the docks to board ship, and shortly thereafter, we would leave for England.

Cat helped me into the dress I would wear as we left, a simple muslin in pale blue with a chiffon to lace through my hair, and I went downstairs for my final dinner with my family at home.

It was a bittersweet time: in honor of my leaving, my favorites were served, and yet my sisters were unnaturally quiet... usually, such reticence would indicate either plotting of mischief, or a recent scolding for mischief. Even my favorite chocolate cake was not enough to bring smiles for more than an instant to our faces, or appetite for more than a few bites to our mouths. Fortunately, dinner soon ended and the carriage was brought around to carry us to the docks. Cat had traveled with the trunks earlier and would be awaiting me on board.

 I felt torn as we traveled along the roads. I wanted suddenly to remain here - I didn't need to be married; I was sure that someone in the islands would serve if necessary; how could I even think of leaving my home and family? While at the same time, I wanted desperately to move on: to get on with my life; to further explore what I had with Horatio; to find out if it was unique or replicable. Why was the carriage moving so slowly? Would we arrive at the docks to find that I had missed the ship?

As all things do, the carriage ride came to an end ... at the docks. I had not missed the embarkation, as a matter of fact, Sarah Everard had not yet arrived, nor had her trunks, and even from a distance I could see that Horatio was fuming over the delay. His division carried out their orders smartly, ignoring cat calls and sneers from the crew of the *Enchante*, who lounged along the beach. It seemed unusual that a Royal Navy crew would be put to labor loading a convoy transport which had it's own crew, and I commented on this to my father, who had just spoken with Mr. Bracegirdle, also on hand to see that the goods ships were complete before the convoy sailed.

"Yes, Anne, it is unusual," he replied. "But I understand that the crew of the *Enchante* was displeased over vacating their cabins for your party, and full of specious complaints about injuries that prevented their fulfilling their usual duties. Captain Pellew, in the interests of getting under weigh promptly, offered yesterday to have his crew finish the loading, and has confided to Lt. Bracegirdle that he believes all will be well once the convoy has set sail. See, there stands Lt. Hornblower, your escort at the parties, directing the operation. I understand from Pellew that he has high hopes for that young man... pity he has not better family connections or expectations, for I could almost believe that you and he would suit. Of course, that is only conjecture."

I turned to look out to sea, fanning my face, and willing the blush that had entered my cheeks to subside. How could Father have guessed? Was he more observant than I had given him credit for? This development would need to be thought on for a long time.

"Yes, Father, I will say that I found him amiable as my escort, although I could wish that he entertained more pleasure at music than at math. You would know better than I if a man is a good choice as a suitor."

"Which brings up a point that you should be aware of. I have written to your aunt. I wish you to make the best possible marriage that you can, providing that you are happy with it. To that end, a lesser title or smaller fortune, provided that you are content with the man, will be accepted. You know your duty to the family, and I wish to make it as easy for you as possible."

"Thank you, Father. You have ever been good to me, and I know that I will miss you dreadfully very soon. I think I may even miss my sisters, although perhaps not as much."

"I would be much surprised if you did. But when you return, as a married lady with your family, you will find them much improved. Time has ways of altering everything." And with that, he turned and began to speak with other planters and family friends as we waited. Knowing my father and our culture's beliefs about showing strong emotions, I thought that this was likely to be as strong a farewell as I received from him, and I was right.

Now I could finally turn and watch Horatio surreptitiously. He looked so strong and in control as he bade his division make ready the supplies and stock for our food; a rock or a cliff could not have been as straight as his posture, hands clasped behind his back when not gesturing to his men. And yet, my hands and eyes remembered him as more slight and fine than he appeared today... the bulk of his vest and coat must obscure that perfect body, more like a rapier than a broad sword: strong and supple, smooth and shining... and I must stop these thoughts before I cast myself at his feet and begged to be taken on board the Indy instead!

Fortunately, the Everard family arrived at that moment, and in the bustle of swaying Sarah's trunks aboard and apologies from the governor for their tardiness, I was again able to cool my cheeks. Soon it was time to go aboard ourselves, and in the same boat that had transported our trunks and chests, Horatio's division rowed us out from the docks to the *Enchante* as he manned the tiller, carefully keeping his eyes on the *Enchante* ahead instead of on us. All four of us, along with Miss Georgia, craned our necks to see the last view of our families for long years, possibly forever. Suddenly, this change in my life became very real, and very threatening. The boat we were in, and even the *Enchante*, seemed much too small for the way the sea had grown in these two days, and I could not breathe with all the trackless space to traverse on our way. Sarah even looked frightened, but only momentarily until she recalled her absolute status, and smoothed that mask over her face again. Melissa and Claudette seemed to recover from their feelings of fear and change first, and were soon chattering to each other as well as Sarah and I about the looks of the *Enchante*, and what we could be about to experience. They seemed to be much more content at leaving home and family than Sarah and I were, but then again, they were so close to each other that I doubted their departure had the same meaning for them that it did for the rest of us.

                  Chapter V

Embarkation - the Ship and Life

When we arrived at the *Enchante*, there was a slight delay while the hoist was rigged to lift us aboard. No proper young lady would climb the side of the ship, although I looked longingly at Horatio's division going rapidly up the side to arrange for us. It would have been so much easier to simply tuck up our skirts and climb than to wait for the chair to be lowered, seat ourselves, be strapped in, and then lifted (or swayed, as Horatio called it) aboard ship, swung in, lowered, unstrapped, and removed from the chair. It took over an hour just to get the 5 of us aboard, and even if Sarah had not become prostrate at the sight of the hoist and required liberal application of her salts, it is unlikely that it would have saved more than 10 minutes, for Horatio was unrelenting in his determination to get us aboard and his division back to the Indy so we could all set sail. I think that Sarah and her aunt were somewhat astonished when Horatio announced that "Miss Everard was being swayed aboard now, whether in a faint or conscious, as the straps would protect her," but I know that I had to turn away to hide my giggle, for Sarah became prostrate any time she did not like the turn of events. Now really, what did she think? That Horatio was going to carry her aboard? That anyone would? Or that the sea could be lowered for the *Enchante* alone, so that Miss Everard could step easily to its deck? Better to grow up, and do what was necessary... and with that, I was back to surreptitiously watching Horatio make the necessary arrangements. (Hmmm... did I find Horatio necessary?) He bent slightly, and as his head came up to check his work, the setting sun glinted on his curls, and the small furrow between his brows smoothed with his smile. Was there not some way I could steal aboard the Indy and into his cabin? How could I live with the twins, and not Horatio? How could I marry another?

As his men were leaving, Horatio took his leave of Miss Georgia and the rest of us... bowing correctly to Melissa and Claudette, who giggled; bowing to Sarah, who had extended her hand for a kiss and was ignored; taking my hand for a kiss, and winking up at me as his tongue touched my palm. While they rowed back to the Indy, and Captain James of the *Enchante* introduced his mates who would guide us below, I leaned on the rail and watched out of the corner of my eye, trying to discipline my mind to think only about seeking out my future in England, rather than pining for my blue parrot of a Horatio.

With that thought in mind, I followed the others below to our cabins. The arrangement was thus: below the main deck were a set of 3 cabins along one side of the Enchante, each opening onto what was called the wardroom, or main living space for the crew. Miss Georgia, as the chaperone for all 8 of us (counting our maids, whom she also was to deliver to England untouched) would have the middle room to herself, although when we saw it, none of us envied her. It was smaller than any of our closets at home, and smaller by far than how we expected to live! And the word "hammock" - well, to me that had conjured up visions of a knotted hammock slung between trees in the garden for a convalescent to recuperate, with pillows and blankets for comfort. But this - this horror - this hammock, in which Miss Georgia was expected to sleep for the duration of the voyage, was shaped more like a cloth box with no lid, and was perhaps as long as she, but not as wide as her shoulders. Rather than wide rods to hold the hammock open, this had narrow rods and was attached to 2 hooks in the cabin walls, where it swung precariously and took up at least 1/2 of the room. And even so, if the seas became rough, there was not enough space for the hammock to swing freely, and Miss Georgia would be flung again and again into the cabin wall by the hammock!

We were all shocked, and Sarah, with a toss of her head, loftily announced, "Well, at least we shall have more space. I know that I could never survive such a cabin as this."

Mr. Stone, the first mate, who had conducted us below snickered at that, and took us to the rightmost cabin, which would be for our maids. It was the same size as Miss Georgia's cabin, but had 4 hammocks slung, 2 on each side of the door, one above the other, on the self same hooks. Two of the maids would need to be hoisted up each night into their wriggling hammocks in order to sleep, and the two sea chests would just fit opposite the door, but could not be opened if anyone were in their hammock as they would be blocked. I looked at Cat with shock, and she looked back at me, but before we could say anything, Sarah hastily announced that she would now see our cabin.

This time the mate laughed outright, and so did I when I saw where we would be living. Yes, our cabin was the largest of the 3, but by only a minuscule amount. 4 hammocks were slung, 2 on the right vertically as in our maids' cabin, and 2 on the left next to each other. The mate, Mr. Stone, indicated that we could each choose our own hammock, and that as the cabin was normally home to 8 (8?!?! Really?!?!?) men, we could rearrange the hammocks into 2 vertical bunks, or 2 horizontal bunks, or 3 of us on one side, or 4 of us on one side... and he left us, still laughing rudely at our discomfiture.

Melissa and Claudette looked at each other, and said that they would take the side by side hammocks, even though whoever slept towards the wall would have to crawl either over or under the other if she had to leave her bed in the night. Sarah proclaimed that she would have the other side to herself, and that I was to sling my hammock over Melissa or Claudette's. Fortunately, Miss Georgia took a hand here, and reinforced that Sarah and I would share one side of the cabin, and that we could decide whether we wished to crawl over/under as Melissa and Claudette would, or whether we would be able to lift each other into the higher hammock. Scowling, Sarah said she'd take the other inside hammock, leaving me to crawl over or under. But truly, that did not bother me much, for I didn't anticipate spending any more time in that cabin than I absolutely had to. I wondered just how much my father knew about this ship, other than its name and that Captain Pellew felt it could carry us safely in the convoy. True, no one had ever represented it as a passenger ship, but this seemed uncommonly cramped, and the attitude of the crew and the mate as regards transporting us seemed unwarranted.

I left the cabin in company with the twins, and we went back up to the main deck. The captain's cabin was entered from the main deck, and was under his poop deck, as on a naval vessel. Captain James was an older man, and was very polite to all of us, offering for us to remain on deck as the convoy got under weigh. The crew was sent aloft to loose the sails, and we could hear some of them muttering as they went, about having to give up their comfortable (?!?) cabin for, and I believe the term I heard was "bints," but I am not certain. I do know that the looks they oozed over us were disturbing... hinting that these men knew what we looked like without our clothing. Horatio's eyes had held heat and desire for my body, but also with respect and longing. He may have treated me without the respect society expected (at my behest, certainly), but I knew that he respected my person, my self hood. There was no iota of respect in these men's faces, merely carnal knowledge of how to use us if they had the chance, and anger that they would not be allowed to.

I moved closer to Claudette and Melissa, and we agreed that none of us should come on deck alone, nor accompanied only by our maids, but that at least two of us should always be together. Realistically, that meant that for the voyage, Melissa, Claudette, and I would be always together, for they were never apart, and none of us would willingly pair with Sarah. On the other hand, Sarah had her aunt, and this would leave the three of us free for more explorations. So, as with everything, we concluded that there was good and bad in our situation.

A voice from above shouted "Signal ahoy!" and the captain took out his glass to look at the Indy. After perusing whatever he saw for a moment, he downed his glass and began to shout orders to his men regarding tacking and course. I did not then, and do not now, know exactly what he was talking about, but learned that Captain Pellew would give sailing directions to the convoy of 6 goods ships via a system of flags hoisted by the Indy. Each ship had it's own number, or flag, to identify which ship messages were being sent to, and it's own set of flags to signal the others as well. I also learned, as we voyaged, that the crews of the convoy were somewhat resentful of the Indy, and would attempt to ignore Captain Pellew's signals if they could, forcing the Indy to move about the ships much as a sheepdog herded the ewes at home. I did not envy Captain Pellew and his crew, for I knew too well the strain of monitoring and supervising but 2 headstrong sisters, and could imagine the stress of supervising 7 crews at once, with 6 of them being at such a distance that he could not box the ears of the defiant.

I do not know specifics on how defiant and sullen the other ships' crews were, but rather than becoming accustomed to this voyage, the crew of the *Enchante* seemed to become more angry and resentful as we went. They made rude comments to us, came too close when there was no need, even rubbing against us as they passed. One time, one of the men even opened our cabin door in the evening as we were preparing for bed, and then snickered as he apologized, saying that he had "forgotten" it was not for him on this voyage. As the days went on, the comments began to change from so much lewd in character to resentfullness, including mention of pay and money...I didn't know why. Were we expected to pay them a tip, much as a porter? Was it something else? Perhaps it had to do with the variety and type of food stores transported for us compared with theirs... perhaps with feeling out of control as the Indy directed all operations from afar... perhaps it had to do with our taking their cabins... perhaps it had to do with the fact that we were women, and they had had none for too long. Whatever the cause, the voyage degenerated fairly rapidly as we sailed, until Claudette (yes, living in such close quarters enabled me finally to tell them apart!) took to wearing all of her petticoats and chemises at once under her sturdiest dress to avoid the crew pinching her buttocks as they passed! We had all asked the men to stop, with no result, and even spoken to Captain James, who gave no satisfaction to us. When Miss Georgia, at our behest, applied to him on this, he insisted that his crew were respectful and would not have done such a thing. Then he suggested that we retire to our cabin for the night...and yet it was no more than 3 in the afternoon! Miss Georgia enforced that suggestion, but early the next morning found Claudette, Melissa, and I back on deck and out of the stuffy cabin.

Over the days of travel, we had found that it was most comfortable to be on-deck when Captain James was there, rather than his mate, Mr. Stone. Although Mr. Stone was always ostensibly polite and reasonable, he was one of the worst for oily, disturbing looks, and seemed to spend a great deal of time with the crewmen that pinched the most. Sarah was perhaps the only one of us who did not complain of being approached improperly, and insisted that we were exaggerating the behavior of the crew. But then, she had also commented that Mr. Stone was "romantic looking" during the first week of the voyage. Was he? Well, if that meant that his hair was shaggy and greasy, his beard neither shaved nor well grown, and his clothing including high cuffed boots and a dirk through his belt, I suppose he was. But he reminded me of nothing better than a pirate in a poorly written children's tale. When he was on-deck and the Captain was not, we tried to stay out of the way. But in the early mornings Captain James was generally to be found on the quarter-deck, and appeared pleased to see his passengers.

Captain James had allowed me to use his glass at times to see what I could see, and had taught me to focus it on various ships of the convoy. This morning, as usual when she was in view, I focused on the Indy, watching her sailors climbing the lines, cleaning the guns, scrubbing the decks. There appeared a commotion on what I later learned was the wash deck: a cluster of men, and waving from the masts. I focused closer, and saw my downfall. Horatio was naked on the wash deck, having sea water pumped over him! This then, must be what Cat had heard before we left, and truly it would be enough to make her doubt him: an all-over bath? Aboard ship? With cold sea water? He must be insane! But the sight of him... naked and glistening, water running down his back, hair streaming, and then he turned. No, the glass was not strong enough for me to see what I immediately attempted to focus on, but I could see the darkness at the top of his legs, and the broadness of his shoulders compared with his hips, and then it was done and he disappeared from view. I lowered the glass, and heard a sailor near me who was also holding a glass, make a comment about "legs to the neck," and turned to see what he could be talking about, but all he did was make a loose fist with his hand, and a pulling gesture to his friend. Melissa and Claudette were chatting as usual, and saw nothing unusual in my using the glass, so did not ask about it, but did ask why I was frowning when I turned. I explained what I had heard and seen from the *Enchante* sailor but not understood, and then Melissa said, to my shock, "Oh, he must have been watching Horatio taking a bath on the *Indy*."

She saw my jaw drop, and laughed. "Did you not know? He was famous among all of our maids and brothers. He takes a bath on the wash deck each morning by having sea water pumped all over him. Some of the sailors probably want to be friendly with him; after all, he's as pretty as a girl. But I think he's happy with Archie." My jaw dropped farther... I expected that next I would have to pick it up from the deck and reattach it.

Claudette noticed my confusion, took my arm, and led me to a seat on a coil of rope near the railing, with Melissa following. "Anne, have you never heard of such things before?"

"No... I haven't... and... Horatio and... ARCHIE????"

The twins giggled, and Claudette went on. "Well, really now, Anne, Captain Pellew is like most captains and doesn't allow women to live aboard ship. When they're at sea for months or years at a time, what are they to do? There are things that a man, or a woman for that matter, can to alone to feel good, but there are more things that can be done to one by another that feel even better. You have never discovered this?"

"No... I haven't... I do not understand!"

"Neither did we at first, but it was something we found by accident as children. And then we found that there were things that we could do... or have done... to enjoy men without damaging our futures. Archie was very good at them, and we asked if he would like to have Horatio join us, but he said Horatio just liked 2 person games, not 4, so the three of us simply enjoyed ourselves."

My jaw sank back to the ground... and my mind whirled. Did Horatio view what he and I had done as a "game?" Just how practiced was he... and had I been in the danger I thought from my actions? How much could I learn from Melissa and Claudette - but then, when and how would I use the knowledge?

Claudette took my arm again, and urged me up from my seat. "Come on, Anne, time for breakfast. Perhaps if we can find a private place later, we can explain more to you about all of this."

I think I agreed, but I do not know, for I was still attempting to understand what had been said, and then I realized that Melissa and Claudette knew about Horatio's baths! Had they seen him? I asked, and true to form, they giggled, and Melissa said, "Of course. We snuck out in the mornings at home to watch. Isn't he beautiful? So pale in his body, with such long legs... and it is true, you know, his member is long to match them."

"His 'member?' Melissa, do you mean what I think you mean?"

"What else could I mean, Anne? His organ, that hangs between his legs, and can be used to pleasure others. I wish he would have come with Archie sometimes, but never mind."

Well, now, that was too much. I was the one agonizing over him, and yet I had never and would never get to see him... and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry with frustration. We went below, and I ate in silence, attempting to digest my thoughts along with my food.

After breakfast, we adjourned to the main deck in a group: Melissa, Claudette, Sarah, Miss Georgia, and the 4 maids with myself. Hammock chairs had been rigged for us at Captain James' orders, and we generally spent the mornings engaged in needlework or reading on deck. I found myself drifting away into imagination again and again, and Sarah twitted me about it, claiming that I was imagining myself as a duchess in England. Melissa and Claudette snuck me commiserating looks, but the truth was, I was imagining what could Horatio's member possibly look like. I had, of course, helped with infants male and female, and living on a plantation, was aware of animal breeding, but none of this seemed to fit. People seem to grow generally proportionately, so if an infant's member would be large enough for what must happen... no that wouldn't work either. And animals, well, I just didn't know. And the worst was, I couldn't even ask. I knew that Claudette and Melissa would tell me, but shouldn't this be done in private? I could not imagine Miss Georgia allowing such a conversation (although I suspected that she knew less than I). And where were we to find privacy on the *Enchante*? I must needs simply hold my tongue, and wait.

Chapter VI

Waiting...for what?

The day lingered on, and I was no nearer to a resolution of my questions than I had been from the beginning. My needle plied slowly, as I recalled Horatio gleaming with water in the sunlight. My mind strove to imagine more detail, and to fit it with those incredible moments when we had touched and tasted each other, as I had thought thoroughly, although now I was not so certain.

Were these intense feelings a game? Should they be? Now my shallowness regarding Horatio was striking home with a vengeance. Had I only talked with him, rather than simply attempting to devour him, I might know more about his true intent. His words to me had been fair, and I had never heard from anyone that he was duplicitous, but I just did not know if I was simply a new toy for him, or if there was something deeper between us.

And yet, in the end, what difference would it make to either of us? We would not, and could not, be together, something both of us accepted. So why could I not move on and participate more fully in changing my own life? After all, that was the purpose of this journey, was it not? Or was it just the stated purpose, with my own intent being simply to be more near Horatio? Well, if it was to be near Horatio, I had failed miserably. Better by far to be at home with my family, than to be near enough to see him from a distance and to tease myself with imaginings of his beautiful body, knowing that I would never see it in truth.

I startled as Miss Georgia touched my hand. "Lady Anne, are you well today? The others have gone below to freshen up for lunch, and your maids are preparing the meal. You seem to be somewhere far away."

True, Miss Georgia and I were the only members of our group still on deck, and I had not noticed. I mumbled something about feeling warm and tired, and Miss Georgia felt my head, commenting that I was highly flushed, and she worried that I would have a fever. I grasped this solution quickly, and determined to spend the luncheon time resting in the cabin, in peace and privacy. Melissa and Claudette snuck in after lunch to see how I was doing, but the relative quiet and peace of having the cabin to myself for a time had worked some magic, and I was too drowsy to do more than flap a hand at them before falling asleep to more dreams of Horatio.

In these dreams, we were back on my island home, but instead of the fevered heat in our kisses and caresses that I had felt in life, we were more calm and relaxed. We drowsed together in a large rope hammock, feeling the soft breezes cooling moist kisses over our skin, smoothing silken skin as our clothing disappeared into mists. I felt safe and warm, wrapped in Horatio's body, our legs braided together, trailing my mouth over the scant fine hairs on his chest, darkening as they arrowed down his firm belly, toward that nest of curls wherein hid his member - which I STILL could not see.

I do not know where the dream would have taken me next, but I was suddenly awakened by banging and shouting, and my hammock was shoved back firmly into the bulkhead of the cabin. I gripped the sides to avoid tipping myself out onto the deck, and saw Melissa and Claudette leaning on the door to the cabin, and then Claudette stood up and began to shove one of the sea chests against the door. Melissa went to help, and I rose to find out what was going on.

As I did so, I heard more banging, someone running (falling? tripping?) down the stairs from the main deck, shouting, and - a scream? A high-pitched scream?

"Melissa! Claudette! What - "

"Anne, help us! We must get the door blocked before they get here!"

"But who? Why?"

"We'll tell you later. Help now, please!"

The three of us got behind Sarah's chest (it being the largest of the 4), and shoved as hard as we could to move it. Just as it reached the door, we could hear banging on the door itself, and a man's voice shouting, "Come on, little birds! We won't hurt you! Come out and play!"

The door bulged inward, but the latch held. And, with Sarah's chest against its base, it would not move. We heard more banging and shouting, some coming from outside Miss Georgia's cabin next door, and some from farther away - perhaps even on the main deck.

Now the men near us were shouting again, almost pleading, for us to come out. "We won't hurt you, we just want to see you," and there was loud laughter and the sound of back-slapping and metal cups being clinked. That was it. I knew now what was wrong about the sounds of their voices. These men were drunk, and were no longer controlling their impulses. I was relieved, for drunkenness wears off, and there would soon be no problem, once Captain James regained control of the ship. I turned to say as much to Claudette and Melissa, and was surprised to find them cowering together in front of the chest.

"What is it? This will end soon. You know that Captain James will not let it continue. Is Sarah in the next cabin with her aunt?"

"You don't understand, Anne," quavered Melissa.

Then Claudette took up the tale. "Captain James can't do anything. Mr. Stone has taken command of the ship, and has locked Captain James into his cabin. He opened the liquor stores, and promised the men that they could have whoever they could catch."

Melissa took over. "We were on deck when it happened. It was so shocking! One moment we were looking over the rail at a dolphin, and the next, there was shouting and screaming, and some of the men ran toward us. We ran below as fast as we could, and came here to try to keep us all safe. But I don't know if we can."

"But why?" I asked. "Has the entire crew mutinied? Is there no one on board against Mr. Stone?"

"Not that we could see. Oh, perhaps one or two, but what could they do against a crew of angry drunkards?"

"And the others?"

"Sarah and Miss Georgia were in Miss Georgia's cabin, we think, taking up a dress for Sarah. The maids were in their cabin, resting after cooking and cleaning from the luncheon. We were the only ones on deck, so if they had the presence of mind to block the doors when this began, they should be safe as well. But safe for how long is the question."

I still did not understand, and said so.

    "Anne, look at this cabin. Tell me where the food and water is. For heaven's sake, what shall we do with the chamber pot? And if that weren't enough, these walls are thin, and I know the carpenter can saw through them - Archie has told us how the bulkheads on naval ships are designed to be destroyed in a battle, and these are less well built than those would be. Unless someone comes to help us, our safety is momentary, particularly as we are less than half way through our voyage and unlikely to meet with any other ships. If Stone is smart enough to follow Captain Pellew's signals, he will not be found out and we are lost." That, I noted, might be our saving grace. Stone, who opened the liquor stores so early in his plan, did not seem smart enough to follow Captain Pellew's signals, and even if he were, was the crew in good enough condition to do so? If not, that meant that the Indy would be dogging our trail. Surely someone from the Indy would note the changes and question them? Surely someone would come, and soon enough? But first, we must ascertain the condition of our friends. Melissa crawled over to the common wall, and rapped on it sharply, calling softly to Miss Georgia. She replied, and indicated that she, Sarah, and Jill, Sarah's maid, were safe. They had been in communication with the other cabin, and Cat and the twins' maids were safe from the crew as well, although in their haste to block their door, Cat had fallen from her hammock and twisted her ankle, possibly breaking it. It was strapped now, and she was resting comfortably, but all 9 of us had the same worries: would we be rescued before we were taken? The noise in the companionway was diminishing; only a few voices asking us to come out, promising us a fine time. It seemed as though most of the men had tired of waiting for us, and with the perseverance of drunkards (that is, none at all) had gone off to find more liquor and forgotten us for the time being. Now was the time to plan for whatever safety we could create, while we had a breathing space.

Chapter VII

More waiting...

The first thing we did was to move another sea chest in front of the door. We had intended to lift it above Sarah's chest, to block the upper portion of the door, but even after removing most of the contents, the three of us were not strong enough to do so. Then we realized that we could perhaps do better if we lined the chests along the bulkhead wall with the entrance: even if the carpenter sawed through the wall, he would have to do so in the upper portion, and they would have to climb through to reach us. By doing this, we could no longer hang our hammocks as the sea chests blocked the lower hooks, and we could not lift each other up into the upper hooks. So, we piled the hammocks as (bumpy and poor) mattresses, with our blankets atop.

Then we took stock of our supplies: several bottles of wine the twins had brought to celebrate sight of England; a tin of caramels in Sarah's chest (yes, I know it was not right to search through her chest, but believe me, she would have done so first), and a further tin of biscuit - not the ship's kind, but soft and sweet for at tea. Well, we knew we wouldn't starve, for a while at least.

Finally, we began to concern ourselves with time: what time was it now, who had last seen the *Indy*, and where was she? When would it be likely that someone would come to rescue us?

As near as we could determine, it had been about 3:00 in the afternoon when Stone mutinied, and could not be much past 4:00 now. The *Indy*, although close to us this morning, had hared off to force another goods ship to remain on station with the convoy before luncheon, and we did not know when she would return.

Eventually, as the cabin darkened and ship quieted, we fell asleep still leaning against the sea chests. For once, my dreams were not of Horatio, but were nonetheless disturbing as shadowy figures sought to grab at us in the mists.

We awakened with the early light, stiff and aching with the unaccustomed joy of sleeping sitting up on a hard deck. The ship was as quiet as a ship apparently ever is: creaking and squeaking, thundering in the sails as the winds shoved and pushed, deep voices shouting orders. But at least there was no banging and shouting for us yet, or drunken voices raised in song. However, we knew that would not last forever.

Claudette and Melissa opened a bottle of wine, and we shared a biscuit each and a caramel, then began to brush out our hair and freshen ourselves as well as we could with no water for washing. Shortly, a rapping was heard from Miss Georgia's cabin, and we moved to the common wall for news.

Both other cabins had also blocked their doors with sea chests, and the occupants had also spent restless nights on the deck. Everyone was safe, everyone had found some supplies cached away, and everyone was scared, Sarah perhaps most of all. She kept frantically saying "I didn't think he'd do it! I didn't!" Jill, her maid, was apparently trying to soothe her, but finally Miss Georgia had to speak to her sternly, and then the story came out.

   Apparently, Sarah had formed the habit of venturing on deck in the evening watches while we thought she was with her aunt and her aunt thought she was with us. During those times, she had caught the eye of Mr. Stone, and flirted shamelessly with him. It was not clear why, for Sarah became almost hysterical when it was pointed out to her that she disdained commoners most times. Finally we simply had to assume that either she found Mr. Stone so physically irresistible that his lack of status had no meaning for her, or that she truly believed that due to her status as the daughter of the governor no one would dare upset her and she could do as she pleased. Whichever the actual situation was, it left us in a poor position now. Apparently Mr. Stone, whom Sarah kept referring to as "Teddy" (bleeccch), had indicated to her that the crew was extremely dissatisfied with this particular voyage, in part due to our passage.

Captain James apparently allowed his crew to negotiate for trade goods and food items for themselves in port, and then allowed them to ship in the *Enchante* whatever they had at little or not cost for resale in England. But on this voyage, due to our trunks and food stores, the men had had to resell their goods and food back to islanders, generally at a loss, for there was no space for them aboard. This loss of financial stability, coupled with the loss of fresh foods they had longed for and the loss of their homes, as they thought of their cabins, had led to this mutiny. For mutiny it apparently was. Over the days of the voyage, they had been forced to smell our meals cooking and to see us relaxing in the shade; they had been forced to give up some of their pleasures such as loud card games and rude songs; they had been forced to give up such privacy as they had once had, and knowing how uncomfortable it was for us to share such close quarters, we could understand their frustration at having even less space for themselves. So when Mr. Stone broached his plan of taking over the ship and cargo, he found ready compatriots, particularly as Captain James was earning a high fee for delivering us to England, but was not increasing his crew's wages at all. They truly felt that we were the cause of their misery, but even so, we had not intended to do so, did not wish to do so, and were not aware of their misery. Should we have been? Should we have paid more attention to their complaints and concerns before we boarded? Should perhaps our fathers or Captain Pellew have ascertained the reason for their attitude? It is hard to say. I know we teach our children to care for all, but in that situation, it was assumed that Captain James would look out for his crew, and the fact that he did not do so does not excuse us. Still, Mr. Stone had used the knowledge that there were 9 women aboard as another prodding point to drive the men to revolt: after all, if the crew shared the 8 of us (8? Did that mean that Sarah was to be his? Well, I wished her joy of him.), they could each have something to remember. And now, they seemed to believe that they had rights to us.

This was perhaps the most horrifying part: that these men could see no error in their intent to use us as a means to get revenge for their despair at their captain. We were not people to them, but merely convenient (well, if they could get through the bulkhead) legs to spread.

I could hear Sarah's weeping through the bulkhead, and Jill trying to soothe her. Miss Georgia was quiet for a time, then she apologized to both cabins for not controlling her niece more effectively, and for not being more firm with Captain James regarding the crew's attitude toward us, for in that case steps might have been taken to prevent this situation. While I know I appreciated her sentiments, and I understood later that Melissa and Claudette did as well, it truly was a moot point. We were where we were: huddled in rickety cabins, hiding behind chests of clothes from men who would have no compunction about harming us. And if they did not force their way in to us, we would eventually need to go out if only for food and water. Oh, if only the Indy were here, and could somehow see the problem! Sarah apparently indicated to Miss Georgia that "her Teddy" was an excellent sailor, and believed that if the crew was happy with their plunder (read: us), they would trail obediently along in the convoy and Captain Pellew would never know what had happened, being required to chase down the other goods ships and keep them in line. I believed that she might be correct, as I somehow doubted that Captain Pellew had that older sister/mother/governess sense that would tell when his charges were being too good, and therefore up to mischief. My experience with my father led me to believe that men, in general, viewed peacefulness as a relief rather than a blind for poor behavior. Our only hope was that Captain Pellew would not be so fooled, but would at least watch the *Enchante,* and note some difference in her sailing that would bring him to check.

It had been at most a couple of hours that we had been awake by this time, and none of us had participated in any great exertion, but we were all exhausted by the emotions we felt, and the stress and strain seemed to drive us to sleep, as if we could thereby escape our cells. Melissa and Claudette lay down holding each other, and I wrapped myself in my blanket as I too attempted to sleep again.

I do not recall my dreams this time, but I do know that the afternoon sun was beginning to sink when we were awakened by more banging and shouting on our doors, as well as on the deck. Once again, some of the men were drunk and seeking to have us out of the cabins and with them. However, the sound of shouting on deck was louder now, and angrier than we had heard earlier. It sounded as though Mr. Stone were having difficulty following Captain Pellew's signals...whether because he was not able to read them or because too great a proportion of the crew were below attempting to get to us to allow him to tack and hove to efficiently I still do not know. Either way, it appeared that the outcome would be the same. Captain Pellew was apparently sending up angry signals to the *Enchante* regarding her behavior, and from the loud boom that passed near us, may have even loosed a shot before her bow as a warning. We could only trust that the next action might be a boat from the *Indy* to reinforce the navy's control of the convoy, and that perhaps one of our particular friends might think to inquire after us.

In the meantime, I think the same thought crossed the minds of Melissa, Claudette, and myself at the same moment: if we could only keep much of the crew occupied below, Mr. Stone would have that much more difficulty following Captain Pellew's orders, and we might hasten our rescue. The problem was, how to do so and yet protect ourselves?

Melissa seemed to have come to a conclusion: she moved toward the door, and said (rather more loudly than for normal conversation, but not obviously shouting which would have warned the crew) "Oh, no, how could I come out into that crowd? It is too frightening... it scares me! Were it only my friend Bill awaiting me, I would gladly do so!"

We listened carefully, and had to giggle at the results, for there was no "Bill" in the crew! Melissa had added an unfamiliar name, and now the crew were engaged in trying to find out who had falsified his name and actually gotten close to one of us! It served to keep them occupied for several minutes, and ended with 2 suspects (a "William" there was in the crew, although called "Wil" and another man whom we did not know) being beaten and dragged away. During the discussion, we explained Melissa's idea to Miss Georgia, who forwarded it on to the maids, and all 3 cabins agreed to attempt a similar strategy. Ultimately, even though the shouting and calling from the men began again, it seemed that the thought we might consider coming out was enough to restrain the men for the moment into attempting to convince us that we would be safe with them rather than forcing the bulkheads and taking us by force.

  To this day I do not know why it should be so, that so many men seem to believe that they are irresistible to women and that we would gladly go to them. And yet, those who may be truly irresistible, such as Horatio and Archie, and... well, others, do not recognize this in themselves and are surprised by their reception. Can that perhaps be the key: that those who think too highly of themselves will not receive honor from others, while those who are humble shall be raised? Is that, perhaps, part of why Sarah was always so much disliked?

Whatever the key, I do know that we were able to keep the crew occupied for some time in confusing them with our calls and fears. To me, it felt as though it had been hours (although it could not have been, for the sun was still above the horizon) when we heard a new noise: a new voice hallooing from outside the ship, and Mr. Stone telling whoever it was to "Stand off, or have a musket to the face!"

We three looked at each other, and clasped hands tightly. Was our deliverance here, or merely more sailors to plague us? Then we heard it: Archie's familiar voice, shouting that "In the name of His Britannic Majesty's Navy, the *Enchante* was ordered to hove to, and belay those muskets." Our eyes closed, and we sank down into a heap of relieved, sobbing, femininity. Yes, now all we had to do was insure that none of the crew gained entrance before the men from the *Indy* reached us.

But even that was not as easy as we had thought it to be, for the crew, hearing Archie's voice, realized that if we did not come to their rescue, they would be doomed, and began pounding harder and longer, pleading with us to come out and join them; to show that we had not been harmed in any way. Even through our fears and determination to stay safely shut in, it was difficult to hear their pleading and to know that there was a basis for their fears without attempting to help them. But we had to survive ourselves, and none of us would have as the woman of a common merchant sailor. It is disheartening,of course, but when one has been raised as a gentlewoman, one does not have the skills necessary to survive alone for months on land, short of money, short of food and clothing, and with no skills for gaining any. No, we could not come out, but perhaps once the crew was under Captain Pellew's control, we could add the information we had gleaned from Sarah's confession, and some reparations for their losses could be determined.

>From what we could hear of the sounds on deck, Archie's men (division? crew? people?) were able to subdue those of the *Enchante*'s crew still above with some effort, but were not yet able to come below in search of us. The crew outside our cabins began to pound harder, seeking to break open the bulkheads and bring us out. Here our foresight proved helpful, for the small openings that the crew was able to force were not easily enlarged, and we found that Sarah's caramel tin was an effective weapon against the hands that strained through the holes. We did cause some dents, both in the tin and the hands, but were able to maintain our bolt-hole longer.

And yes, we did maintain it until the navy arrived. I understand that in adventure stories from the United States, the convention is that the Cavalry arrives in time to save those in danger, but on the high seas in 1800, it was the Royal Navy which acted as savior to more than one ship in danger. The sounds of fighting: shouting, punches, threats, thuds, all moved closer to us, then by us, then past us.

Finally, relative quiet prevailed. Oh, there was still commotion: men sobbing, some in pain from wounds and some with fear and sorrow; Archie shouting and ordering his men about confidently; higher pitched voices calling out from our cabins to familiar voices among the *Indy*'s men. But this commotion was welcome to us, not fear provoking.

Archie must have moved closer to our cabins, for his voice came from outside our door. "Lady Anne? Miss Everard? Are all of you alright? This is Acting Leftenant Kennedy, of HM frigate '*Indefatigable*.' Are you alright?"

Miss Georgia responded with relief, as did we three, and we could hear Cat and the other maids cheering from their cabin also. With much effort we shifted Sarah's sea chest back, and opened our door. The same was being done in the other cabins as well, for soon we were all in the companionway, hugging each other and the men from the *Indy* in our joy to be free, crying and laughing at the same time with our joy and relieved fears.

Archie deftly moved us to the wardroom, which his men had cleared of the crew members, and applied to Miss Georgia for an explanation of... well... whatever had happened. She explained the beginnings of the mutiny from yesterday (was it only yesterday? - it seemed like years!) through Sarah's information and today's ploys to keep the crew out of our cabins. Archie then asked for details from our cabin and from Cat's, and then, while he was attempting to make sense of it all, Miss Georgia asked him to have someone fetch Captain James as well. Archie dropped his eyes, took a deep breath, and informed us that Captain James was dead.

Mr. Stone had told Archie that Captain James shot himself in a fit of despair, and that he, Ted Stone, was only doing his duty in attempting to complete the *Enchante*'s voyage, but was unable to control the crew by himself. Archie had considered that to be barely possible, but Sarah's information contradicted it far too drastically. Also, if Mr. Stone's tale were true, why had he attempted to keep Archie off the *Enchante*? No, with our information, his own experience, and the condition of the crew, he knew that this was a mutiny, and that only good fortune had preserved our safety. Now he had to determine what to do next.

Archie could not leave the *Enchante* in the hands of the mutineers, but how could she be sailed safely home? Who was there to take command, and see that those crew members who had joined out of despair had a chance to regain their humanity? This was a job that required more than one acting-leftenant, valorous though he was, and a few trusted men. It was not as though we girls could be used: Archie had from somewhere to come up with the strong nucleus of a crew to control the *Enchante* for the remainder of the voyage. And then he looked up and grinned, and we knew he had found a way.

Chapter VIII

Responsibility

It was not long before Captain Pellew was rowed in his gig to the *Enchante* in order to assess for himself what had occurred. Archie had detailed 10 men from the *Indy* to remain aboard to see to the condition of the ship and keep us with the convoy, but there was no way for such a small number to continue to do so. Additionally, with Captain James requiring a sea burial, and Mr. Stone under guard, and the remainder of the crew needing to be questioned and sorted into those who were at fault and those who were desperate and might redeem themselves in some degree, well, there was just no possibility of Archie handling it all on his own. Although Melissa, Claudette, and I certainly admired watching him at his tasks. No, still not Horatio, and no, still not stirring my blood, but so in control... so masterful... so luminous, with that wide grin of pleasure in standing on the quarter deck with the wind in his hair and face.

And such pleasure for us to be on the quarter deck as well, out of our stuffy cabin, watching the ships breast the waves, heeling gracefully with the force of the water. Seeing men race aloft to keep the *Enchante* at station without fear of their harming us. It was not until this moment that I realized how much strain we had been under during this voyage, and now I realized it only because it was gone. Too, Sarah was gone, at least from our cabin. Miss Georgia was furious at her behavior, (although too well-bred by far to rant as I for one would have like to), and had decreed that Sarah would move into her cabin, and would remain at her side for the full remainder of the voyage. Sarah, still sobbing (we never did determine if she was sad because she truly loved Mr. Stone, or if it was anger and frustration at being controlled by another), meekly went into the middle cabin and did not come out until dinner. This left only Melissa, Claudette, and I in our cabin, and although the additional space was not great (after all, Sarah's sea chest remained, and Jill would have to enter each time Sarah needed something from it), yet the sense of privacy was there for us now, for we three were friends, where Sarah never had been.

Miss Georgia indicated that as we three had acted properly thus far, she would continue to act as our chaperone, but trusted us to "act with continued propriety and taste." If she only knew! But that, I suppose, was the point. She didn't really know, because we had acted with propriety and taste, or if not in our thoughts, we had at least acted with the common sense to keep it among the three of us. Whatever the reason, essentially Miss Georgia and Sarah kept to their cabin for the remainder of the journey, emerging only for meals and short turns about the deck for exercise. I have often wondered, thinking back on that time, whether Miss Georgia had an inkling of what was to occur, and gave tacit permission by her actions. Many years later, meeting her at a soiree, she patted my cheek and said: "Remember, my dear, forgiveness is always more easy to obtain than permission." Such a wise woman... and such a pity none of us, particularly Sarah, had known it before all of this occurred.

But then Captain Pellew arrived: bellowing, furious, storming across the deck with murder in his eyes, and we shrank back from him, almost not recognizing in this dark flame the courteous host of those parties oh, so long ago. This, indeed, was the terrifying Captain Pellew whispered of in Jamaica. He intercepted Archie, growling "Mistah Kennedy! Report, ... IF...YOU...PLEASE!!" and we feared for Archie's life.

  But Archie must have been accustomed to this roar, for he came to attention, gave a concise explanation of the situation and his actions to now, as well as the options he had considered for continuing the voyage. After, he slid a wink to us, and quirked his mouth momentarily. Captain Pellew appeared satisfied, as he cleared his throat twice, and then said, in a much milder tone, "Well done, Mr. Kennedy. Well done, indeed." It came to me then, that Captain Pellew's anger had been like my father's when I or my sisters had taken a foolish chance and he was worried for our safety. He was not able to express his fears and worries, and in the effort to hide them from us, exposed instead his anger at the situation which we assumed was directed at us. Yes, Captain Pellew would be afraid for this situation... both on account of Archie and his own men, as well as for those of us entrusted to his care.

He turned to us, and gently asked after our condition, and if we would not rather be below resting? But he accepted that we felt fine now that we were released, and wanted to remain on deck in the wind and spray. He turned back to Archie, and the pair walked away discussing the best plan to end this voyage. We had been told by Archie that some of the possibilities included parceling out the crew from the *Enchante* among the other goods ships, and replacing them with men from those other ships; seeking officers from the other goods ships to take it in turns directing the *Enchante* with her own crew (and thereby assuming that the only bad apple had been Ted Stone); tranferring all cargo and personnel from the *Enchante* to other ships, and sinking her in the Atlantic; adding a picked set of (perhaps 2 or 3) divisions from the *Indy* to the *Enchante* with an officer to act as captain for the remainder of the journey. Each of those choices had both good and bad points; each of them would have achieved Captain Pellew's goal of completing the voyage with an intact convoy in some way or another. But none of them were quite the correct choice, it seemed.

Re-crewing the *Enchante* from other ships would leave them vulnerable to missed bad apples in the crew, and would leave us at the mercy of men who were not familiar with the particulars of what this ship needed; rotating officers would have the same effect, as well as further exhausting those men and rendering them more likely to err; no other ship (except perhaps the *Indy* would be able to accomodate the 9 of us, which was the reason we were aboard the *Enchante* in the first place, let alone spreading the cargo out among the convoy; part of Captain Pellew's duty was to return safely with the entire convoy, even though this portion of it now belonged to Captain James' heirs, and Captain Pellew was not about to ignore part of his duty; a couple of divisions from the *Indy* would not have much effect on the *Enchante*, and a single officer would have quite an intimidating job at making this vessel seaworthy again. And yet, that, it seemed, was almost what Captain Pellew was considering.

"Mr. Kennedy, send the boat back to *Indefatigable,* with my compliments, and have Mr. Hornblower with his necessities and yours return in it. I shall expect to speak with you both regarding your further duties in the captain's cabin upon his arrival." And with that, Captain Pellew turned on his heel and entered Captain James' cabin.

Quietly we moved to the entry port, and waited for Archie to finish his instructions to the captain's gig crew. When he turned, the 4 of us moved to the relative privacy of the taffrail.

"Before you ask, he has not told me what he will do. He did snort at several possibilities, so I doubt you'll be transferred to another vessel, and I know he thinks little of the sailing abilities of the other convoy ships, so I doubt he'll rotate personnel. But there are still several options he has, and we will not know them until Horatio arrives."

Melissa and Claudette moved to flank Archie, each putting a hand through his arm. "We have not yet thanked *you*, Archie, for coming to us. How did you know?"

He blushed a little at that, stammered, and then seemed to decide to come clean with us, for that grin appeared again. "Horatio and I were scanning the decks for you, when we noticed that the care of the ship was being neglected. Not that Captain James was all that good of a sailor, but he did the best he could. And things weren't right aboard. We signalled to see if the ship needed help, but Stone signalled back to "keep off," that "all was well." Clearly it wasn't, so Captain Pellew sent me over to check it out."

"He must have enjoyed doing that," I murmured, with, it must be admitted, some sarcasm.

"Oh, if you think his choler when he came aboard was high, you should have heard it when he realized he might have to take action against a ship in his convoy! To do him justice, though, he didn't waver and as soon as we indicated the problem, we were sent to solve it."

"Archie," said Melissa with a slight frown, "Just what did happen? True, we were here and you were not, but we know very little. What did you learn from the crew, and from Mr. Stone?"

"Not much more than what we all had learned from Sarah. All 30 men of the crew were pretty much involved, although it seems that for most of them it was an act of desperation, and not something they planned well. Under a better leader, it could have worked. But Stone was greedy and impulsive, and weak, and was not able to control the situation well enough. Opening the liquor stores was a mistake, for too many of the crew were too drunk to keep the ship properly so that we wouldn't notice. And then too, Stone had apparently relied on Sarah's information that no one would miss the rest of you, not knowing that Horatio and I looked for you daily."

My cheeks flushed, and Claudette giggled. Archie knew he was missing something, but did not know what.

"Archie, Anne has scanned the *Indy* each day as well, but only once has she seen what she sought."

Now my cheeks flamed, and I attempted to turn away.

"Anne," said Melissa, "It's all right. We understand, and Archie will understand, and if all goes well, perhaps Horatio too will understand."

And then Archie did seem to understand, for he took my hand, and said, "Have my friends been telling tales out of the school room, Annie? You and I have talked about... other concerns... have you come to a decision?"

"I don't know, Archie. Perhaps I have come to know my mind, perhaps I have lost it. But even more than before, I wish to be with Horatio for whatever time there is. And many of the tales that Melissa and Claudette tell are... interesting. I have never heard of such, and to think that you..." and now it was Archie's turn to blush, and Melissa and Claudette to giggle again.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, well, um... oh look, there's the gig returning. I must meet Horatio," and he left us quickly.

Claudette and Melissa now moved to flank me, and we linked arms. "Anne, you embarrassed the poor man," teased Claudette.

"Hardly," I laughed back, "If Archie was embarrassed, it was due to your... tales. I wonder what he thinks will happen next?"

"I don't know, but I look forward to hearing Captain Pellew's solution as much as he does, or perhaps more," said Melissa.

With that, we moved to the rail at the front of the quarter deck, and watched Horatio come aboard, with a salute and a clap on the back for Archie. Then he looked up at us, and saluted once more, letting his eyes linger on mine for perhaps a fraction of a moment. Archie, ever the clown, kissed his finger tips to us, and then they were gone: into the captain's cabin, to hear the decision.

It was time for us, too, to leave the deck. Night was falling, it was time for a meal, and time to right our cabin and our selves; time to take the responsibility Miss Georgia had given us to go on about our lives.

When we arrived below, our cabin was already patched, and the sea chests moved back along the rear wall where they had been originally stowed. The hammocks had not been hung, but were folded neatly atop the chests, with our blankets also folded. I went to thank Cat and the other maids, for surely their cabin as well had required maintenance, but found that 2 of Archie's men were sitting with Melissa and Claudette's maids and Cat, and that all 5 were cheerfully laughing. Cat refused the thanks, saying that the *Indy*'s men had done all the work. The men, too, refused my thanks, saying that it was no more than what was required.

I withdrew, and went back to my own cabin. Melissa and Claudette had procured water, and were washing up and freshening their gowns. When I entered, they immediately set upon me to style my hair, and find what they determined to be my most flattering gown according to their standards.

"What do you think you are doing?," I cried!

"Do not overlook the little things," Claudette chided me. "He will be worried when he hears Archie's tale, and he will want to see you looking well. If you appear fatigued or worn, he will treat you as if you were porcelain... and you will not have what you wish."

"What do you know of what I wish? You mentioned as much to Archie... what *do* you know?" I asked. I had thought to keep my desires to myself... had I failed that miserably? And oh, how everyone must be laughing at me...

"Only what we see. You and Horatio were matched well at the parties, and we have heard the tale of his keeping the mess awake after speaking with you. Then too, he almost never came ashore unless ordered to, but did come to find you, we hear. As well, his eyes never seem to meet ours or any other girls, but they linger on you and go soft. Yours do the same on him, when he is not looking. Finally, yesterday, when you saw him bathing... and the wondering you did after... tell us if you do not wish to explore Lt. Hornblower, and we will let you be. But it seems that you may gain a chance, if you are ready to take it."

"Do you not think that we go too fast?"

"For who, Anne? You, or Horatio?"

"Either, or perhaps both. I cannot be quite comfortable rushing into this, but neither can I step away. Would it not be more fair to allow Horatio some choice as well?"

"Unless you plan to overpower him in his sleep, this will allow him a choice. He does not need to act unless he chooses to. But it also gives you a chance to determine what you wish. What will you do?

  "I will take it. We shall see what happens." And with that, we set about making me tempting - at least according to the twins' ideas. Of course, their ideas were based on more experience than mine, so their choices seemed reasonable to me, if a bit unusual. A fragile lawn gown, with but a thin chemise beneath it, low slippers, hair piled upon my head, with tendrils coiling down my neck, and a light shawl covering my shoulders. I wasn't sure if I felt beautiful,merely like a worm on a hook.

Soon, almost as soon as we had finished, Jill announced that dinner was ready, and we entered the wardroom for our meal. Miss Georgia and Sarah ate in their cabin, but the 7 of us made a pleasant meal of cold meat and wine before the twins and I went back up on deck to see the stars. Captain Pellew was debarking through the entry port, and Horatio and Archie gave him their salutes as he climbed into his gig to return to the *Indy*.

Archie and Horatio turned as we approached, and made small bows to us. Melissa and Claudette swept toward the forecastle with Archie, leaving Horatio and I to drift in the other direction.

"Lady Anne, I am please to see you well after your ordeal," Horatio said, rather stiffly. He was walking to my left, but kept his eyes firmly ahead or to his left, and away from me. His hands were behind his back, in that oh-so-proper naval position, but I could see that they were twisting and clenching, much as the muscle at the corner of his jaw did. I longed to touch it, to smooth away the tension, to press my lips to his, but this upright stranger was farther from the Horatio I dreamed of than had been the Lt. Hornblower I met for the first time at one of Captain Pellew's parties. Must I start all over again, even just for him to use my name? Had I done something wrong, or had whatever it was that we had had in Jamaica simply been a game? Oh, for an uncomplicated man, who would simply act on his feelings! Or wait - wasn't that what Mr. Stone had done? Perhaps I would simply start over with Horatio.

"Thank you, Leftenant Hornblower. Mr. Kennedy has informed us that you and he noted the... insufficiency of the crew here on the *Enchante* and began our rescue. We are most grateful to you." He ducked his head, coloring a little.

"Yes. Well. It was something that any good officer would have done. I trust that you will have a more pleasant voyage for the remainder of the time."

"I don't know yet. I begin to wonder if it will be more pleasant... more confusing... or painful."

"Come now, the flower of English womanhood fearing pain? Brace up, Lady Anne, think of tomorrow," and he flung out his arms, as would a poor actor on the stage at the thought of "tomorrow."

I stopped, furious. *This* was how Horatio reacted? The man I had dreamed of, visualized, torn my heart to bits over, and he had the gall to say 'Brace up, Lady Anne?" A... a... a sea monkey would have had more tact and sense!

My arms akimbo, I tapped my foot where I stood. He turned, questions in his eyes, raising those cinnamon eyebrows as if in perfect innocence. "Do you wish to go below, m'lady?" And then he smirked. I was not sure if I wished to slap it off his face, or kiss it off, but I knew I wanted it gone.

"What I wish is to know the reason for this change. When we parted, I had not imagined you to pine for me, but I also had not imagined that if we met again, you would act as... as if I were Sarah Everard! Do you think this is proper, *Mr. Hornblower*?"

He closed his eyes, and shook his head, as through repeating what I already knew. "Must we do this again? We both wanted... needed... the fragment that was ours in Jamaica. But this is the Atlantic, and I am no longer a junior officer with limited responsibilities and ample time of my own. Captain Pellew has left Mr. Kennedy and I to take command of this ship, with 10 men from our divisions on the *Indy*, and as many of the original crew as we believe to be safe." He paced as he talked, full of frustration combatting excitement, and concern battling joy. "There is no other way to get her to Portsmouth with the convoy whilst still keeping you passengers safe, and we do not know if this will suffice either. In order to maintain a secure watch upon the crew, at least until we get to know them and their capabilities, we will be trading off watches, so that one of us is always available. Our men will be doing the same thing. This is not a pleasure cruise, this is serious business, and my life is not my own until this ship arrives at Portsmouth, and then..."

"And then I will be, again, out of bounds. I did not understand, Horatio." I went to him, placed my hand on his arm, and looked up at that dear face, both of us still striving to retain control, and said "I'm sorry. I did not mean to make things more difficult for you. That would never be my choice."

I stepped back, removed my hand, and, head lowered, turned away. With an oath, his hands pulled from behind his back, curled about my arms, and pulled me to his breast, his mouth in my hair, legs spread as though to pull me into his body forever.

"Anne, I don't know whether to rue or revere the day we met, and I don't know whether to be overjoyed or afraid at our being together again, but I do know that I cannot be here, now, without holding you. I trust that you will be properly chaperoned after tonight, which may save me from myself."

I almost didn't hear him as I snuggled deeper into his embrace, rubbing my cheek against his chest and breathing deeply of his scent, sliding my hands up his back under his vest to stroke his warm muscles. Certainly listening and speaking were not high on my list of things to do. But he needed a response, and I needed to know how he would have me act toward him. "Um... Horatio... I don't think so. Miss Georgia has stated that she must remain in her cabin with Sarah, and that she trusts Melissa, Claudette, and I to 'continue to act with propriety and taste' for the remainder of the journey."

He stepped back, looking into my face, shocked. "She what?!? Does she *know* Melissa and Claudette? How could she say such a thing?"

I had to giggle: he sounded horrified! I had to wonder, for who - us, or he and Archie?

"Horatio, they are my friends. They are not *so* bad, are they?" I took his hands in mine, and looked up at his face in the moonlight, stepping close enough to again feel the heat flow from his body in response to my nearness

This took him a while to consider. He started to speak, stopped, then started again, giving his head a shake as though to cast off fatigue. "Anne, I know that well-bred young women do not discuss such things, and I do not wish to offend your sensibilities, but...well..." and he turned away a little from my face, "there are things that are generally not done... at least among polite persons... and... well..."

    "Oh," I said, smiling, "Like the morning baths they snuck out to watch you take in Jamaica? Did you know that we saw you from here yesterday morning? A most instructive view." All right, I know the last was not fair, and not even strictly accurate, but the look on his face - mingled fear, hope, anger, laughter - was worth it. "Horatio, we had agreed that we would not... compromise... my marriagability. I do not see in our proximity aboard ship a reason for that agreement not to continue." His eyes closed, his head sank back, as though in pain, although he continued to hold my hands. "I understand from Melissa and Claudette, and yes, even Archie, that there are... ways... to see that all are pleasured, and yet none suffer. Is this not so?"

His chin dropped, then his eyes opened to mine with that incredible heat searing me again, and he moved my hand to his groin, to feel the bulge tenting his trousers, and reaching for me. "Be careful what you wish for, Lady Anne, for being near to you is the most pleasureable suffering I have yet felt, and you do not know what you ask."

My hand slid along that incredible bulge; warmer than even his hands; firmer than the muscles in his arms and thighs; throbbing with desire even through the sturdy fabric of his breeches. I felt my cheeks redden, and an aching in my groin: a pleading to be joined with Horatio. I lifted my face to his, and his mouth covered mine with fierce longing. Our lips opened, and our tongues danced together, relearning the taste and feel of each other; our hands roamed freely, caressing and petting, and then we broke apart, and I gave a self-conscious laugh, placing my hands to my cheeks to cover their flames.

"No, I do not, but, oh Horatio! I do most earnestly ask that you grant me this boon, love, for I know our days are numbered. Even so, that is not all I wish. I have been most unfair to you, seeking only your lips and hands, and yet I would know of you as well... who you are, who you wish to be... why I seem to be in your thoughts when more beautiful girls are not. Surely that will not compromise either of our positions in life."

He laughed, bringing me back into his arms, and tipped his head so that our foreheads touched, and our noses bumped. "How could I refuse, m'lady, such a charming request?" and with a light, teasing kiss, he released me and walked me to the companionway where Archie waited with the twins.

Another bow, and we were left to go below while they returned to the Captain's cabin, there to do I know not what. But, knowing that I would see Horatio again in the morning, I went below to sleep with a singing heart.

Chapter IX

Instruction

Of course, regardless of our intent, we three did not sleep soon. Instead, we shared what we had (officially) learned from Horatio and Archie, (naturally, Archie's communications to the twins contained more humor and self-deprecation than Horatio's to me had, although that in itself suggested that Archie continued to believe he had to "act the part" of a buoyant soul, rather than being himself), dreamed aloud while awake about possibilities, and finally snuggled down into our hammocks to sleep.

The ship's sounds were different in the morning light... yes, there were still grudging men being chivvied up to the decks, but more of the men sounded cheerful, and willing to work. Too, for the first time, we heard singing as the men holystoned the decks. We arose, washed, dressed, and went up ourselves to see the morning sun.

Horatio and Archie were both on the quarter deck as we arrived, looking pale and weary. They nodded to us, but continued to pace up and down the leeward side of the quarterdeck, pointing, making sweeping gestures. It was clear that they had worked throughout the night to set order to the *Enchante*, and were finishing the chore now. The remainder of the convoy and the *Indy* were all visible from the rail, and a pod of dolphins raced alongside us, leaping with joy.

Melissa and Claudette moved aside, and then Horatio was there with us. Archie was nowhere to be seen for the moment. While Horatio spoke to all of us, his eyes remained on mine.

"Ladies, I am sure you wish for information. Mr. Kennedy and I have tentatively divided the ship's crew and watches, and will begin interviewing the crewmen today to determine the best use of their talents. Mr. Stone has been transferred to the brig aboard the *Indy* for transport to Portsmouth, and the civilian authorities there, and Captain Pellew has taken Captain James' body there as well for a sea burial later today. We trust that, should any man on this ship make improper advances to any of you, that you will not hesitate to inform us immediately so that it may be halted. Mr. Kennedy and I will be sharing the Captain's cabin, albeit at different times of the day, so you will always know where to find at least one of us if you need something and cannot find one of us on deck. Captain Pellew has authorized us to make you aware of our ships' position each day, so that you too may plan for your arrival in England."

Melissa smiled. "Very comprehensive, Mr. Hornblower. But what shall we do if a man aboard ship does *not* make improper advances to us?"

He shook his head, rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face. "Miss Smyth-Byrne, were I you, I would give thanks in those conditions."

Melissa pouted, charmingly, of course, and then Claudette spoke up. "With everything happening today, will you wish us to remain above decks, or below? Where will we least interfere with your work?"

Horatio appeared relieved at this sensible question, particularly coming from one of the twins. "It would be most helpful if you would remain above decks as long as the weather is fair. Mr. Kennedy and I will be interviewing the crew in the wardroom, and Matthews will be directing our men in keeping station on the *Indy* while we are occupied."

"Mr. Hornblower," I had to ask, "I was not concerned before about the small crew of this ship, but now I have to wonder: is there enough of a crew to keep the ship properly as we travel? How could Captain James have kept the ship going for so long with such a small crew?"

"You must realize, Lady Anne, that a goods ship does not travel under the same constraints as a frigate. Captain James was able to get by with so few men because he did not need to travel through the night as a regular thing, and was not likely to lose men to injury in war. Also, his men may have worked harder for him due to his plan of allowing them to import their own goods... where our sailors are pressed and receive little benefit, his chose to sail and had some say in their own destiny. That, sad to say, seems to be a big part of the reason for the mutiny as they felt their livelihood was being taken from them. Fortunately, the other goods ships in the convoy are also relatively undercrewed, and so Captain Pellew has been hoving to in the evenings, allowing most crewmen on all the vessels to rest. That, in part, is why we were able to bring some men from the *Indy* to the *Enchante* - and it will help us make it to Portsmouth, even though it will be a slower journey than the *Indy* could make alone." "What will you do with the crewmen who mutinied," pondered Melissa. "We don't, as yet, know. Certainly, all will labor under a sentence of at least flogging, if not death for their parts in the mutiny. But if they work with a good will, and display proper respect for the remainder of the voyage, that can be taken into account when we arrive home. And I know Captain Pellew values his crewmen, and will consider their opinions of the *Enchante*'s crew as well." "Will you be able to find out who was involved in what... I mean, which crewmen were..." I gave it up, as the question was somewhat convoluted, and my brain was fogged by Horatio's nearness. Horatio smiled at me, and said "I think so. We have the ship's roster and duty logs, which lists all of the crew and their assignments. Now we have to speak with the men, both about their participation and what they saw from others, and then put the pieces together to form a picture of the whole. After that, we shall formally assign men to positions and watches. But I'm not sure how far we will get today with this task. Captain James' burial will be later this morning, and Captain Pellew has already informed us that we will make little progress toward England today." "When do you expect us to make landfall," Claudette asked. "At least another 3 weeks if all goes well. After all, we have only been at sea for two weeks, and are not yet half the way there." Melissa, Claudette, and I all stopped at that. Just 2 weeks aboard the *Enchante*? No more? Only 2 weeks for all that had occurred? It boggled the mind! Sometimes I felt that we had always been here, and always would be. The twins seemed to feel the same, and we had no more questions we could frame at that moment.

Horatio offered to send word to our maids that we would breakfast on the quarter deck when he went below to begin with Archie, so we adjourned to our hammock chairs to discuss these developments and break our fast.

We were all somewhat astounded at the short period of time we had been traveling. I later learned that many people voyaging with a small, isolated group find their travel becoming almost a world unto itself, expressed best, I suppose, by the doxology: "As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be..." Had we lived before this voyage? What would occur after it was ended?

I know that up to this time, I at least had not considered reality for after the voyage. Oh yes, I had made grandiose plans to become all the rage in London (although I had enough sense to keep them to myself), and I will admit, capturing the offer of a Duke sounded as though it would be pleasant, but what would my actual life be like? I was accustomed to ordering a household, but also having much time to do with as I pleased. I was able to move freely about Jamaica, and to not be concerned over my name and reputation. Concerns about money and status had never crossed my mind. But how much of this would continue?

I knew that young women must be escorted about London, and I would need to either be with my aunt or a chaperone, or a group of friends with a chaperone. I had never been all the rage in Jamaica... why should it be different in London? Certainly, as the daughter of a provincial baron I was not anything exceptional. And what would I do with my time - my aunt would certainly order her own household, and as much as I loved music and missed my violin, could I spend the remainder of my time in music? How much of my time would I spend thinking of Horatio, and what would I have to think on?

At least I had made a start last night, in telling him that I wished to know more of him, and not just know more of physical intimacy. Perhaps I could learn to understand how and why we seemed so... pushed - or perhaps, tugged is a better choice - together, even though we both understood that nothing could come of it.

Melissa and Claudette gave rein to their curiosities as well this morning. "All right, Anne, we were polite last night, but now we must know. What has happened with you and Horatio? Please do not keep us on tenterhooks any longer!" said Claudette, leaning forward and clasping my hand.

"Really, nothing happened. At least not the way I think you mean it. We talked, and I will say that I was angry with Horatio because he had gone back to acting as though we were bare acquaintances at a rout. But then he explained... and we are not angry anymore."

"But... before we left, at parties that your family did not attend, Horatio always asked after you. Do you mean to say that you had not developed... an attraction earlier?" puzzled Melissa.

"No, not really. We were partnered at 3 parties, and I know that I found him amiable to be with, and charming, and even funny at times," and at this Melissa and Claudette looked confused. "But I did not know how he felt about me, and I felt only some bit of attraction. I spent more time with Archie, as he seemed to always be available and ashore. But for whatever reason, Archie has always seemed like the wonderful older brother I imagined as a child. He is kind, and handsome, and I enjoy his company, but it is not the same as the feelings I am trying to sort about Horatio. And I still do not know just how he feels about me, or why. I think I must try to find out."

Claudette slowly said, "That makes sense, I think. Melissa and I saw more of Horatio than you, apparently, and his behavior with both of us, and with the other girls does not sound like the Horatio you have described. He never joked with any of us, really never flirted, and was so painfully proper with Sarah, it is no wonder she began to intimate that he preferred men to women."

"But then, what would he want with me? Am I so mannish?"

"No, Anne, but you know how it is with Sarah. If a man does not fall at her feet, she must find a reason within him and not within herself. And Horatio is... beautiful. Handsome does not begin to describe him, and with Captain Pellew's backing, well, he may not be a traditional 'catch' at this time, but he will be someday. Maybe that was what drew Horatio to you: none of the rest of us made a pretense of doing anything but seeking a husband, and you were not," said Claudette.

Melissa agreed. "You know how it is with cats: they go to the person who does not seek their attention. It seems that Horatio may have been comfortable enough being with you to find *you* - the Lady Anne who plays the violin, and wants to learn whatever she can, and speaks her mind. I recall that Horatio seemed perhaps disappointed when he did not see you at parties, although he showed so little emotion or interest in general that we couldn't be sure. We thought he acted the same with you, or perhaps that you and he were so discreet, that your relationship was a secret."

"Oh, no. Granted, he was reserved the first time we were together, but so was I. After all, we knew nothing of each other beyond Captain Pellew's introduction, supported by Mrs. Everard. But he conversed amiably on many subjects, and if his voice was dry at times, he has a truly wicked smile that tells you when he is joking, if you can but catch it before it disappears."

"That must be it, then," laughed Melissa. "I find Archie so much more uncomplicated, and so very good looking, that I must not have looked carefully enough at Horatio to detect his jokes."

Claudette agreed. "Too, I prefer a more solid man. Yes, Horatio is beautiful, but too slender for my tastes. How could Melissa and I share him? There is not enough!"

Finally an opening for my questions! "What do you mean? Is it a thing you can - would - explain?"

"Oh, 'tis easy to explain, merely difficult to accomplish! You have found how stimulating kisses can be, with certain persons?"

"Not precisely. I have found how stimulating kisses can be with Horatio, but have not had much experience with others. Are kisses not always so... inflaming once you have reached a marriageable age?"

"No, only the best ones. And it is not always certain who will be the best for a person. You can imagine that someone will make you feel incredible things, and yet taste only stale breath on their kiss. But someone else, not nearly as attractive, may set your blood to boiling with only a chaste kiss. Life would be much easier if there were a sure way to tell how pleasant his kisses would be before you kissed a man!"

"Then, have you both tested many men?"

"More than our parents would approve of, but fewer than we wished to. Kissing is pleasurable, as is much contact with men. Archie is good at kissing, but we have not attempted Horatio. Do his kisses inflame?"

"They certainly do me! Sometimes they are soft, sometimes so hard I think that my lips will be bruised. And his tongue... I was astonished the first time it touched me! But it made me feel quivery inside, and want more... from his hands as well."

"Men have such different hands. Some are callused and some are soft. And they use them differently as well. We like the empire fashions, in part because it is so much easier to touch and be touched in light dresses."

"But how do you know... where to touch, and how? And how do men know that about you?"

Melissa smiled in an almost smug fashion. "For both men and women, you simply touch. If it feels good, you touch again. If it does not feel good, you touch elsewhere or stop. We can tell when a man likes how we touch him when he breathes harder, when his eyes close slowly, and when his body twists to meet our hands or lips. Perhaps they know about us the same way. We have not asked anyone this, but perhaps it is time to ask Archie."

"Then, do you expect to have time to be with him on this voyage?"

"We hope to, at least once the crew situation is straightened out. For right now, it does not seem that it will happen for us. Archie tells us that he and Horatio will probably be either sleeping or on duty for a while, and will have no free time. That is the reason they are sharing the Captain's cabin, as only one will likely be there at a time. Although, they are such close friends, they may find time to be together as well."

"Yes, Claudette... or was it you, Melissa, mentioned something about that before. What did you mean? Are they not friends, even as we three are?"

"They are friends, Anne, but it is not quite the same. Both Horatio and Archie are men. Archie is... what... 23 or so? Horatio perhaps a little older? Young men have needs and drives. That is why we girls have usually been so closely chaperoned at home, although as Melissa and I are so much together, we frequently were not required to have a chaperone. While most men want to be honorable, we have been told that it is sometimes difficult to hold back on those needs. Aboard ship, how can those needs be met? There are no women, and while there are things one can do to and for oneself, it is more pleasurable to be with a friend."

"But what do you mean? What can men do alone, or with a friend? Does this not require a man and a woman?"

"A man has his member, used for procreation. When he is... inflamed, it becomes longer and firmer, and very sensitive to touch. Some men stroke themselves, or stroke a friend, or perhaps even kiss a friend's member. They may rub their member along the body of a friend as well, until they release their seed. If the seed is not taken into a woman, there will be no children but there will be feelings of pleasure that may soothe the needs a man feels."

Melissa joined in. "But there are also needs and drives that a woman feels. And although we do not have such a member as a man, we too have special places that may be stroked or kissed, and are very sensitive to touch. If touching and kissing is all that is done, there is nothing to harm a marriage in the future. And it can feel so incredibly good, to touch and be touched, that it makes us more determined to find husbands who can bring these feelings to us, and often!"

"But how do you know who can inflame you? Is there some sort of emblem on a man's forehead that states 'This man is the one you seek' when you look at him? Must you test them all to find the one you want?"

"Oh, Anne, if we knew that, we would be rich above all for selling our method to other men and women! No, I suppose that is why we have tried many men. One day we will find the right ones," said Claudette.

"But in the meantime," slyly said Melissa, "Does this mean that we have seen... more... of Horatio than you have?"

"Yes, and you can have no sense of how frustrating that is! I did not know what Cat was so upset about with Horatio, and then to almost see him but not quite - and then you have! What can you tell me?"

"Not as much as you would like, I'm sure," laughed Claudette. "Yes, we did sneak out to see Horatio in the mornings when we could, but recall, the *Indy* was anchored in the bay, so we too had to use a glass and could not see all that we wished to. Horatio does have a long member, with a nest of dark curls like those on his head protecting it. We have never seen him aroused, and do not know how his member changes when he is. We did ask Archie to invite him to be with the three of us, but Archie said... oh, you remember we told you this! Horatio prefers to be one of two, rather than one of three or four. Archie, on the other hand, enjoys his pleasures and was content to be with both of us, touching and kissing. We thought perhaps you and Horatio...?"

"No, we have not moved so far as you. To tell the truth, I was not aware of these possibilities until you mentioned them to me, and thought I was courting disgrace by my actions with Horatio. It is a relief to find out that, although improper, there was no danger in our actions."

"Anne, that may not be strictly true. With a man like Horatio, who I understand to be strong and upright, and very concerned for acting in an honorable manner, there may have been little danger, but men are stronger physically than we are, and it is always possible that some man may not like to simply touch and be touched, but may wish to... consumate your relationship with or without marriage. You must be very certain of the intent and honor of a man."

"I can see that. Well, at least my body chose wisely who it would be attracted to: Horatio will guard himself, and Archie has told me that he will seek to assist us as well, in whatever way he can."

"Anne," Melissa joined in again, "Do you really not find yourself attracted to Archie in the same way as Horatio? He is so friendly and enthusiastic, and warm. How can you not be?"

I laughed. "I don't know, but Archie seems too much like a family member for me to be attracted to him in the same way. I do have strong feelings of caring for him, but it is a wish to protect him from others who may hurt him, to let him allow others to see his sad or worried side as well as the jovial one he shows us so frequently."

Now Claudette was puzzled again. "What sad or worried side is this?"

I was a little surprised that they had not seen more of Archie's personality, but perhaps they had been preoccupied with his... personality. "He sometimes has feelings of self-doubt, wondering if he can live up to Captain Pellew's expectations, and to Horatio's example. I don't think he feels that he is doing all he can do to be an excellent officer (for he will not stoop to being merely a good one)."

"But Anne, this is ridiculous! He is a fine officer!" Melissa was angry, as though I were impugning Archie.

"I know it is ridiculous, and it is not my idea. I find Archie to be a fine officer - he has a strong sense of loyalty to his friends and his ship, he is intelligent, and he is certainly pleasing to the eye and ear. But *Archie* feels that way at times - and worries that he will grow to be like some of the midshipmen he has known: in his 40's, and still unable to pass the exam for Leftenant, while watching his friends rise in rank."

"That would scare me as well," shuddered Claudette. "But we have not seen this side of him. Oh, at times he would be a little pensive, but he always laughed it off when we asked. How do you come to know this?"

"He told me... perhaps it was more of the cat idea? I did not ask why he was pensive after we had met on several occasions, I simply laid my hand on his arm and sat with him, and he told me. I am surprised that he did not bring you more into his confidence."

"That may not have been entirely his choice," admitted Melissa. "After all, when a man has two of us to flirt with, it may be hard to be pensive and reflective. We rarely are when we are with men, and they seem to follow our lead."

It seemed that all three of us had some thinking to do, and contemplation of the relationships we had with Archie and Horatio before we could hope to move them farther along, or understand that the end had been reached. As I applied myself to my breakfast, I began to consider.

Chapter X

Learning

I began to watch the seamen from the *Indy* working the *Enchante* as I ate. I recognized most of the men as being from Horatio's or Archie's divisions, and that made sense to me as they would know how to work together efficiently, and Horatio and Archie would know what to expect from them.

I was pleased to see joking and humor among them, although it seemed likely to get a bit rough when Styles emptied a bucket of water over Oldroyd as a joke. Two of Archie's men, Richards and Jones, were also splashed, and tossed their buckets back at Styles. It began to look as though we were in for a brawl, complete with sheets of water, when Matthews, also from Horatio's division, stepped in and acted the peacemaker. I am not sure what he said, but given that there were several arm waves toward our chairs, I suspect that Matthews was enjoining the men to be on their best behavior with us.

As they moved on to other tasks, Styles and Richards came past us, and both raised a knuckle to their foreheads, as a sort of salute. Styles also grinned, cheekily, while Richards looked a little shamefaced. And then my traitorous mind noted how closely their wet clothing molded to their bodies... and how firm their muscles appeared across their shoulders and backs... and how Horatio would look if wet... and I was off again! WHY must this happen so often now, when just three weeks ago, it did not? What had changed, to bring my mind so quickly off of the higher planes it was wont to inhabit in the past, and to revel in sensation? Had Horatio truly called out a wanton in me, and if so, how was I to keep her under control here and now, as well as after we arrived in England?

Matthews came up to us a few moments later, and offered to take our plates below so that we would not have to see the crew being interrogated by Horatio and Archie. We gratefully accepted his offer, and then Melissa thought to detain him and learn perhaps some more of his officers.

"Mr. Matthews? Have you served long under Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Hornblower?" she asked.

"Well," he responded doubtfully, "I can't so much as say long, but it's been a right smart time."

"It must be exciting," said Claudette."

He laughed. "Yes, especially when they're young midshipmen and learning the ropes... the tricks of being at sea. But those two have come along nicely, and I'll be sorry to see them move on to other ships, for then we'll have to train a new officer."

This was a new viewpoint to me. I had not realized before that, with midshipmen being so young at the beginning of their career, the crew was actually training them in some ways. We had always thought of the officers training the crew. But then I realized something else Matthews had said...

"Mr. Matthews, wait. Did you say that Mr. Hornblower and Mr. Kennedy will be moving on to other ships? Why would Captain Pellew send them away?" I asked.

"Well, miss, it's not that Captain Pellew would send them away, like as not he'd want to keep them with him. But the Admiralty has a habit of shifting officers around, and while it's a trouble to keep teaching them the way of a ship, it also has a good side when an officer comes to you knowing different types of ships and different waters. Mr. Hornblower found out before we came to the Indies that he would be joining a ship of the line when we return, and after Mr. Kennedy passes his exam, we figure he'll be moved on as well."

"A 'ship of the line,' Mr. Matthews? What is that? Like the *Indy*?" asked Melissa.

He laughed again, shaking his head. "No, miss. The *Indy* is a frigate - quick and strong. Captain Pellew takes us out as the eyes of a squadron, to find the enemy or give them grief ashore. A ship of the line is larger, heavier, and fights in a line of big ships against an enemy line of big ships. It's a whole different kind of fighting and sailing."

"I thought a ship was a ship, except of course that naval vessels are different than merchant ships," inserted Claudette.

This time Matthews only smiled at our naivete. "No, we have small vessels for special jobs, all the way up to three deck first-rate ships. If his majesty wants it done, there's a ship that can do it. But, if you'll excuse me, I must keep this lot working if we intend to make sail today." And with that, he was gone below.

More food for thought - and here I had thought I had learned as much as a female could while still at home! Horatio moving to another ship... I know he had mentioned as much to me, but I confess I had wondered if it were almost a ploy to avoid me. I had heard some small bits from Archie that both he and Horatio had come to the *Indy* from a larger ship... I think, the *Julius,* perhaps? Or something like that, and that they were pleased to serve under Captain Pellew aboard the *Indy*. It must feel almost like my journey from home to England for them to consider having to move on to another ship.

I knew that Archie would play the clown when that happened until he had found a safe place aboard his new ship, and that those who took him at face value would make him welcome. Once he was comfortable enough to be himself, he would be all right if he were with reasonable people. But I worried about Horatio. He was so reserved, so quiet, and so quickly intelligent without tolerating stupidity, that I could well see his new shipmates being put off him. I feared he would have the more difficult time adjusting to a new ship, and prayed that his new captain and crew would value him at his true worth.

The men were responding to instructions flagged from the *Indy*, and were taking in sail. Styles trotted to the companionway, and Melissa detained him for a moment.

"Oh, Mr. Styles," and she flirted her eyelashes at him, "Can you tell us what is happening?"

He saluted us again, grinning with pleasure, (did the man always look like that at women? As though we were a tasty snack? And why wasn't it as intimidating from Styles as it had been from the original crew?), and said "Cap'n Pellew is going to have Cap'n James' burial, and Matthews wants me to tell Mr. Hornblower and Mr. Kennedy so that they can watch, along with any of the crew here who cared for him." Then he was sliding down the ladder, and calling to Horatio and Archie below.

We left our hammock chairs for the rail, leaning on it, and looking across at the *Indy*. There was a crowd of men gathered at the entry port, both seamen and officers from the looks of the clothing. I was not sure we should remain on deck for the burial, but Melissa and Claudette pointed out that going below would not be particularly safe unless we went immediately to our cabin and stayed there due to the original crew being in the wardroom. Therefore, we stayed on deck.

    I was somewhat surprised when about 15 or 20 men came up with Horatio and Archie to see Captain James buried. I was also surprised by what I saw: apparently, a sea burial meant that the deceased was wrapped tightly (I eventually learned that the sail maker actually sewed them) into their hammock, which was weighted with cannon balls, and then tipped into the water. I don't know what I had expected, but I had thought there would be more... dignity. And yet, peeking out of the corner of my eye at Horatio, he was solemnity personified, and seemed to see nothing amiss in this abbreviated funeral. Of the crewmen who had come up, some 3 or 4 appeared much moved by the setting, while another few were clearly thinking more of being in the fresh air than of their recent captain. But most of the men seemed dazed and confused; not sure of what to do or where to go. After the body was tipped into the sea, Archie led the crew (both those from the *Indy* and those from the *Enchante*) in a prayer for Captain James' repose, and then he took about half of the men on deck below, while Horatio assigned men from his division or Archie's to pair off with men from the *Enchante* and work together for the remainder of the day.

Archie came back up alone, and flapped a hand wearily to us as he entered the captain's cabin without speaking. Horatio came over to us along the rail after speaking for a moment to Matthews.

"Ladies, how has your morning passed?" he asked politely.

"Well enough," answered Melissa. "Your Mr. Matthews and Mr. Styles were kind enough to answer our questions about ships and teach us something of naval parlance."

"But," inserted Claudette, "what we would really like to know is: what is happening now? And why?"

Horatio turned to me. "Lady Anne, have you anything to add to your companion's comments?"

"Only, 'more, please, sir!'" I gave back to him. "What has happened in your day, Mr. Hornblower, and are you making the progress you had hoped for?"

He dipped his head, a dimple flirting at the corner of his mouth for a moment. "Better than we could have hoped for, ladies. There appear to be a very few men who actually intended harm to any of you or to Captain James. It seems that Mr. Stone led them to believe that the mutiny would be a bluff, rather than a real thing, and they were shocked when he told them that Captain James was dead. The crew have been compliant and willing, and we will be bringing them up in watches to try them with our men. Matthews is sending the word to Captain Pellew on the *Indy* and we can make sail this afternoon."

"And what of Mr. Kennedy?" asked Melissa.

"Mr. Kennedy is indulging in some much needed rest through the next watch, when we shall trade places and I shall get some rest myself. Until we are very familiar with both this ship and its crew, at least one of us shall always be available. It seems the safest way to manage things."

I touched his sleeve. "Mr. Hornblower, have you yet broken your fast? May we have something brought to you?"

He turned to me and smiled. "My thanks, Lady Anne, but we were served below while talking with the crew. Although an invitation to join you ladies for dinner would not go amiss?" His eyebrows quirked up, and there was that smile again, as I had told Melissa and Claudette.

This time they too had seen it, and Claudette made her deepest court curtsy, as she said, "Oh, pray, Lt. Hornblower, wouldst thou grace our board this eve?"

At this he tossed back his head and laughed, the first free laughter I had heard from him since Jamaica. He shook his head, and replied with a bow and a grin, "I would consider it an honor... even more so if it were to be prepared by your own fair hands?"

Now it was Claudette's turn to laugh and shake her head, saying only, "You may trust me to order it prepared, but I do not think you are hungry enough to dine on what I might prepare in the kitchen... galley."

"Shall we expect Mr. Kennedy as well?" I wondered.

Horatio nodded, and said he believed so, but then he excused himself and began to direct the men about caring for the ship. We three were left alone once again along the rail, and I looked a question at Melissa and Claudette.

"Yes," they said in unison, "You were right!"

Claudette shook her head once more. "I would never have believed that Horatio would laugh and joke that way... he has always been so reserved before!"

Melissa agreed, and added "But that grin... such pleasure he promises! Oh, Anne, I do envy you!"

"I don't know," I said, leaning on the rail to watch the convoy. "I don't know if we shall move farther, or if we shall simply remain acquaintances. I still feel warm and flushed, and short of breath when he is near, but do not know if that is fair to Horatio or to me."

"I don't understand," said Melissa. "If you both agree to share pleasure, how can it not be fair?"

"I would be treating Horatio as a thing, much like the pleasure from a silk gown, not as Horatio. How can that be fair? Would it not be better to know more of him, and have him know more of me, and then decide what to do?"

Claudette seemed surprised at my attitude. "Do you anticipate so many opportunities to be with Horatio that you can cavalierly spend them in talk? And do you think he would appreciate waiting?"

"What opportunities there may be are what we will have. As to the other, Horatio has been most concerned for my well-being, and for not taking advantage of me. I suspect he may feel both relieved and impatient at waiting." My intent was a way of thinking that Melissa and Claudette could not understand, and I in my turn could not understand why they did not. After all, they had seemed as incensed as I when Sarah would treat people we knew as things rather than beings, but somehow, to them, the shared pleasure made it all right. No, as much as my body called to me to simply grab Horatio and glory in touch and taste and scent, it would not be right, and I was going to most earnestly work to avoid such.

The afternoon continued with little change: Horatio directed the men from both crews, who appeared to be melding well into one; Miss Georgia and Sarah came up for a walk around the decks, and then vanished below once more; Melissa, Claudette and I varied from reading aloud to needlework to standing at the rail looking out at the sea. I could not tell if it was one afternoon that took an eon to pass, or an eon that passed in a moment.

When it was time for dinner, we had the food brought up to the captain's day cabin. It seemed to be the best place for the five of us to sit together, and with the cabin door open, and Jill and the others coming and going, certainly not a cause for concern. Besides, there was a real table, with real chairs in there - and those were items we had missed since we left!

Archie had awakened just prior to dinner, and although he still looked fatigued, the dark shadows below his eyes were receding, and the haggard look of his cheeks was filling out. Horatio, on the other hand, was beginning to look as I would imagine a ghost might: moon pale skin, dark hair and eyes that were glazed with fatigue or pain. Still, he attempted to second Archie's host actions, and was careful to act with propriety at all times. After the meal (can it be imagined that I recall so many details, but not what we ate!), we sat to play cards for a time. With 5 of us, whist was not a possibility, so loathe to exclude one of us from the company, we played vingt-et-un for a time, even though Horatio felt it an insipid children's game.

His fatigue, the lack of real interest in the game, and Melissa and Claudette's proclivities combined to end the cards in a short time. They asked Archie for a tour of the cabins, and he excused himself and began to take them around the day cabin, and then into the night cabin, always careful to leave the door open, although we could not see them and they could not see us. However, we could hear their laughter and indistinct voices.

I moved to touch Horatio's arm resting on the table. "Horatio, are you well? Do you wish us to leave so that now you may rest?" He moved his hand to cover mine gently.

His face turned to me, with a tender smile, and he shook his head very slightly. "No, Anne, it is so pleasant to just sit with you quietly, that I do not wish to send you all away. But I do have a headache - a stupid thing that makes me dull. That I would gladly send away."

"Then, may I help you? My father often suffered from megrims, and we found that it helped to relieve his pain for me to massage his temples. At the very least, it may help you to relax and sleep when we leave."

He did not respond, but his grip on my hand tightened and he pulled me up from my chair. I moved behind him and placed my hands on the sides of his head, gently stroking from the center of that high forehead, out across his temples, and along to the back of his head. I knew that, at least at the beginning, it helped for my touch to be as a feather: light and delicate as it moved. I could feel the tension ebb from his silky skin as my fingers floated across it, and then his eyes closed and his head sank back to rest against me for a moment while Horatio made a sound suspiciously like the purr of a great cat. Slowly I increased the pressure of my fingers, and instead of moving to the back of his head, stroked from his forehead, over his ears, and to the base of his skull. Now his head and neck seemed to stroke back to my hands with the same rhythm.

My hands moved lower, to massage the cords at the back of his neck above and just into his collar, and now Horatio's head tipped forward as his shoulders and neck flexed with each stroke.

"This worked best when my father was in his shirtsleeves," I whispered to Horatio. He did not speak, but his jacket and vest were removed and on the table in a trice. Now I had more access to those shoulders... and they were tight and strained and knotted. Stroking would not avail to loosen those knots - only pulling and pushing and kneading would free his muscles. Now he seemed as a large doll - all soft and pliant, moving loosely from his hips as my hands pulled on his shoulders, being molded under my hands, placed as I would if I could use my feminine powers.

And then, ultimately, my hands spasmed, and I had to take them from his back. He turned to see me trying to straighten my fingers, and took them in his long hand to bring them to his lips.

"Thank you, Anne. You have magic in your hands. I will be in your debt for this evening's work." And there was that... blamed... open placket again, below his still-tied cravat, allowing shadowy glimpses of the paler skin beneath, as though a forbidden paradise. I ran my hand down the side of his face, along his neck, and across his shoulder before sliding it along the side of his chest in a light caress. He groaned and pulled me closer to him, burying his face in my stomach, winding his long arms about my hips, rooting with his mouth, and tipping his face up to brush the undersides of my breasts with his lips. I clasped his head to my body, running my fingers through those curls again, dropping kisses on his hair and forehead, and exploring his shoulders and back with my fingers from this new vantage point.

It seemed that he lost patience with this, however, and pulled me down across his lap to lay against his chest as his lips claimed mine... almost bruising me with their ardor. His hand smoothed my side, and slid up to cup my breast, his thumb gently stroking my nipple through my gown, and I matched the movement on his. I could feel him growing beneath my hip... seeking me, I felt. His eyes darkened, and his heart pounded in time with mine, and I felt as though I had opened for him, although I had no idea how or why, and just knew that I wanted to be here - stay here - with Horatio.

I do not know precisely how we would have continued if we had had the chance, for Melissa and Claudette led Archie back into the day cabin, and we moved apart, both of us flushed. Archie smirked a little at our discomfiture, and Melissa raised an eyebrow at Horatio's deshabille - and visible condition. He must have seen, for he turned sideways in his chair, and dropped his arm across his groin.

"Archie," he began, "the next time you have the headache, you must have Anne massage your temples. It is the most extraordinary sensation, and drives the headache away!"

"Ahh," teased Archie, "is that what we saw, 'Ratio? And to think your father was a doctor, and yet you cannot locate your temples! Or do you mean the other ones?"

Horatio was shocked into laughter by the bawdy comment, but before he could reply, and before the conversation went completely out of hand, I spoke up. "'Ratio?" I asked. "Is that what your friends call you?"

Horatio blushed a little. "Only Archie. He says it is the perfect name for me: being a form of Horatio, and yet being a term from mathematics. I... I am not sure if I am comfortable with it or not."

I laughed. "Well, as we have attempted to discuss mathematics before, and you know of my deficiencies, I think I shall continue to call you Horatio. Otherwise, I shall never understand you!" Then with laughter and camaraderie, we parted for the night. Archie escorted us to our cabin door, gently kissing each of us upon the forehead saying it was "what our fathers would have him do," while Horatio went into the night cabin to take his rest.

Chapter XI

Recess

So the voyage continued. Days flowed into nights, nights into days, and we five grew closer together in the sunlight and soft breezes. We had formed a pattern of being together when all were awake, talking and leaning on the rail, sharing meals and our thoughts. This time varied somewhat from day to day, particularly in the beginning as Horatio and Archie worked to bring the *Enchante* under naval control, but generally the five of us took dinner together in the captain's cabin, and made it ring with laughter and wit.

We found that, rather than playing vingt-et-un, we enjoyed playing charades or fox and geese, or other childhood games as they were more entertaining. I knew I could never admit that to my sisters: not after refusing to play such childish games with them at home! But when Archie was miming a scene from Romeo and Juliet, or Horatio was acting out Homer, or when Melissa and Claudette attempted to distract Archie and cheat at fox and geese, and then had to pay a pennance of a kiss, they didn't seem like childish games to any of us.

I still have not determined if Miss Georgia truly felt that we three could chaperone each other, or whether she relied on the honor of Horatio and Archie, but those three weeks of travel before we made Portsmouth and after they had secured the *Enchante* contained the most freedom that I had ever known in my life, and it seemed perfectly appropriate to whirl across the quarterdeck in the early dawn, bestowing a hug and kiss on each of our captains, or to lean over the rail watching for dolphins with the seamen keeping a firm grip on us to prevent our falling overboard. Although it was undoubtedly "not quite the thing," we became so comfortable with each other that casual touches, quick hugs or pats, perhaps even a peck, were commonplace among us. Our skin became more golden from the sun and wind, although never as tanned as the men. We had the run of the ship, but in deference to all of the crew, we did not invade their territory when they would be eating or resting. I had never before known that a ship had such nooks and crannies: small areas between larger bulkheaded areas, that had been turned into cabinets or cupboards, or storage closets where they were not expected.

It appeared that not an inch of space was wasted aboard a ship, and exploring the surprises became almost an Ali Babba's cavern for us. We found the ship's cat, gorged fat on rats and galley scraps, and scratched his belly 'til he purred for us. We found the additional sails that were kept in case of need, and marvelled at the amounts of canvas needed for each one, and how stiff they were to our hands when we saw them bell so softly to the wind. We found small cupboards with bits of rope and cordage, and some with nails and metal pieces. I sometimes thought that we could have explored for a full century, and not found all the hiding places. Melissa even began to create a story in the evenings about a hidden closet that contained a skeleton, which no one had ever found! After she told the tale to Archie, he began to pretend he had been the one to find it, and was carrying bones from the skeleton in his pocket. He sometimes referred to them as his " future relic of St. Nelson," and the blasphemy both shocked and delighted us.

Of course, this meant that Melissa and Claudette had to poke into all his pockets to find what he had there, (which of course meant that I had to help them succeed, and Horatio had to help Archie keep his secret), which ultimately involved tickling and snuggling and kissing and caressing on all parts, and a wonderful time was had by all. What was in Archie's pockets? Nothing much: a nail, a scrap of wood, a paper. Just enough to show that SOMETHING was there and scare us into their arms for protection from the dastardly skeleton.

Probably the only place we did not explore was the rigging: as free as we felt, we knew that we could not climb the rigging in skirts, and that we could certainly not take them off (even if we borrowed breeches or trousers - that would be almost as improper!). So, although we sighed as we watched the men fly up the rat lines and out the yards, we never were able to climb into the sky and watch the sea from a bird's view. But there was still much for us to do, even while remaining on the decks.

Daily the signals flew between the *Indy* and the ships of the convoy, and we learned to read them from Matthews and Styles, with some assistance from Richards and Jones, who seemed to be Archie's most stalwart hands. Daily the *Enchante* tacked and hauled and cruised as part of the convoy, and we learned which ropes to haul on to change tacks (although I suspect that when we "assisted" with this, we were merely being humored by the crew and at best did not interfere with them), and a little of how to estimate when we would be changing the tack we were on.

Now we were generally within eyesight of the other ships, and part of our day was spent begging glasses from Archie or Horatio, or Matthews, and watching for those we knew on the other ships (well, really only the *Indy*, although we came to recognize crew on the other ships as well and gave them pet names). We always waved to Mr. Bracegirdle and Mr. Bowles, and if we chanced to see him, to Captain Pellew as well. Mr. Bracegirdle and Mr. Bowles always waved in return, and once Captain Pellew even doffed his hat to us, which caused us great merriment.

A ship at sea is a crowded place, much smaller than the space to hold as many people and chattels on land. We were almost living in each other's pockets on that voyage, but to this day, I do not recall feeling crowded once Sarah left our cabin. It seemed that everyone minded their own business, and did not notice that which was not directed at them. This allowed for at least a feeling of privacy, and I know that we valued it for its scarcity. Still, we attempted to follow the rules of propriety as far as we could - and remembered to. Any one of us was never totally alone with Archie or Horatio; any one of us was never on deck alone at a time; during our meals and evenings, the door to the day cabin was always blocked open. Nevertheless, we felt that we were in our own private world, and there were cetainly... opportunities... for those activities that we all enjoyed.

Among others, we talked. Oh, how we talked. I learned of Horatio's childhood as the son of a country doctor from his lips, and he learned of growing up on an island plantation. I learned of his desire to be more like Archie: so easily friendly, so ready to participate in fun, while he learned of my desire to learn, to know about other peoples and places. Archie talked of his mother and sister, and gave us some tales of theatre life and jolly tales of the sea, but not so much about his father and brothers. Melissa and Claudette entertained us all with tales of their wild brothers' exploits at home. We had all come from such different families and ways, and yet we had formed a tight clasped family of our own for however long we had to be together.

Probably the most profound conversations Horatio and I had centered around our respective loves of mathematics and music. Horatio was comfortable with mathematics: the numbers didn't change; one always knew what to expect from applying operations to them. There were no surprises for him in mathematics, only certainty. On the other hand, what I sought in my music was the chance to express emotions that could not be said well (or with propriety) in words. The same notes could say so many different things, depending on the feelings and expertise of the musician. While I accepted what drew him to mathematics, and he accepted what drew me to music, I think we agreed to disagree, for each felt the other's reasons to be incomprehensible, and perhaps slightly insane. Perhaps if I had the chance to discuss this with him again, things might be different, for I have learned that music itself is mathematics: relationships between pitches and lengths of notes. It might have given us more common ground, although I do not believe that we required commonalities at that time, being content with each other and our friends.

I suppose our differences were most clearly delineated in his need for control, and certainty (or at least high probability), and my needing more expression of emotions. I suspect Horatio also quietly revelled in a smattering of feeling superior because in mathematics he was superior. Oh, this becomes entangled, but Horatio did not recognize in himself that he was superior - he told me that he felt as though he had not measured up to his and his captain's standards. I will agree that probably he had not, but I also could see that those standards were impossibly high, and that no mere human (was Horatio ever a "mere" anything?) could ever meet them. His grasp of mathematics was far superior to anyone else's that I, or Melissa and Claudette, or Archie had ever met. In this, he was comfortable. And in that comfort, although he yet retained his pattern of over-considering each choice and move, he began to blossom and to smile and laugh more freely, although he was never... and would never be... as light-hearted as Archie could be, given sunlight, fresh air, and friendship.

Sunlight, fresh air, and friendship there were in abundance at that time. Horatio and Archie had effectively melded the original crew with their divisions into a working whole for the *Enchante*. Several of the men from the original crew had apologized to us at various times for scaring us, and indicated their willingness to try to make it up to us. I will say that they were the best behaved group of seamen that I had (or have) ever seen after the mutiny was quelled.

Styles and Matthews seemed to take it upon themselves to be our protectors - not just of we three women, but of their officers as well. Once Matthews had pointed out to us how the crew trains its officers, we could pick out times and ways that they were doing so. It was such great fun to watch: Styles, like a great lumbering mastiff, looking and sounding so fierce but ready to play at any time (and particularly interested in the female of the species), joking and attempting to slip out of some tasks. Matthews, the smaller, intelligent terrier who kept at a thing until it was done, and who always seemed to know what was needed before anyone else did, including which crew members needed supervision to complete tasks (Styles!!!).

Horatio and Archie seemed to rely the most on those two men, and by the end of our 4th week at sea, there were evenings when both Horatio and Archie would play at cards or games with us through the evening, and then sleep until early morning, with Matthews at the helm and a couple of crew members dozing on the decks in case they were needed to haul sail. Then there were other nights, when Horatio and Archie would stay up on deck all night, with us there for a time, guiding the ship, and looking at the stars.

On one memorable night, we piled hammocks and blankets by the taffrail, leaving Matthews at the wheel, and stretched out in a long row to watch the constellations, and see if there would be falling stars to wish on. Of course, on that magical voyage, there were. And I wished that it would never end... that we would always be young, and in love with each other (all of us... not just Horatio and I, although we had not been so bold as to say this thing out loud), and sailing these diamond seas. I pillowed my head on Horatio's shoulder, snuggling in close to his side, and we whispered tales of life on those stars, imagining creatures living in the fire. Then Archie told tales from his Scots nanny about some of the constellations, and Melissa and Claudette added the West Indies tales learned from their nurses. It was a night of laughter, with kisses and soft touches, and the light breeze cooling our heated skin after hands and lips had warmed it sufficiently.

There is something seductive, I think, about lying with a man, even if you are doing nothing more than looking into each other's eyes while fully (well, perhaps not quite fully) clothed. Something about that horizontal view, and being so close that you can feel the heat rise from each other's body, and watch the moonglow create shadows across smooth ivory skin. It was very tempting, and I was not, upon reflection, surprised that we only watched the stars that way one time, although I was saddened.

One day, while Archie was on deck and Horatio rested, Melissa asked to learn to steer the ship - and was promptly told that the proper term was "helm". Archie immediately gave us all lessons at the huge wheel, tucking us one at a time in between himself and the wheel; helping to turn it by those long spokes. I teased him about holding Melissa and Claudette longer than he had held me, but he merely laughed, and said that I should see Horatio for more... intimate lessons. Then he tucked me in front of him again, wrapping that strong, sturdy body and those hard arms about me as he kissed my neck and gave me another turn at the wheel. (Tempting, tempting, but how could I consider such with my best friend... and my friend's - I know not what to call the relationship between Archie and the twins. But, for several reasons, Archie would have to remain as my older brother). I had learned from our explorations of the ship, that the wheel itself used a great rope loop to turn the rudder, which sounds as though it would be easy to control. But in reality, the ropes made the wheel stiff, and the force of the water below pushed on the rudder and attempted to wrest control of the ship from us. As I stretched my sore and tight shoulders and arms, I vowed that I would never again underestimate the amount of work it took to helm a ship at sea, and was glad of a back rub from Melissa to ease my pains - only to find that Archie had taken her place!

But when Horatio finally came on deck, with a smile for each of us, we surprised him by demonstrating what we had learned, so that he and Archie joked about sending back their divisions to the Indy, and taking us into the crew in their place. I believe I recall that the main stumbling block to this grand enterprise was going to be uniforms, (or as Archie imitated Captain Pellew, "uu-nee-forms) for us: we could not haul lines or climb the yards in skirts, and this not being a naval vessel, there was no slop chest for us to be dressed from. Archie got a wicked glint in his eyes, and suggested he had a solution which he was *certain* we would all enjoy, but before he could name it, Claudette and Melisa began to tickle him until he gave over and promised to behave - sometimes.

Now, this all sounds like an idyll: something that was too perfect to be real. I must admit that there were parts of the voyage that were not nearly as wonderful. The hammocks swung all night, sometimes slamming us into bulkheads or each other, and were impossible to lay comfortably in. Our clothing was always wrinkled and stale, and it was difficult to bathe in such crowded quarters. The food was monotonous (and since we had brought our own stores, how much worse must the crew's fare be?), and the water brackish. The ship creaked and moaned and banged with the wind in the sails all day and all night, and the sound was never regular enough that we could sleep through it comfortably. Still I would not have given up a moment of it, not even the worst moments during the mutiny, for it ultimately brought us Horatio and Archie.

But the best part of every day was the time that I could be with Horatio on deck a little away from the others. Generally in the shadows of early evening, generally when most of the crew had gone below. We would sit or stand along the rail, leaning against each other slightly, learning the feel and look of the other's face, measuring the other's body with our eyes and fingertips. Storing memories for those days after the voyage would end. And when the shadows were deep enough, we would kiss and caress. I would feel my body melt with desire for him, and hear him answer with a deep groan. I grew to know the feel of his coat... and vest... and shirt... and breeches... and the wonderfully firm muscles covered by them, but never the feel of enough of his skin. His hands learned my shoulders and spanned my waist, and I learned that just behind my ear was a tender spot that seemed to spread through my body as a flood whenever Horatio kissed it. As the days went on, I also learned just why Melissa and Claudette enjoyed the empire fasions so much, for they did make fondling and being fondled so much more entrancing than I could ever have imagined.

So the days and the nights passed, and we were happy and gay. But even so, no matter the idyll, there are times when one is simply not able to sleep. One night , about a week from Portsmouth, I was not, and felt it incumbent upon myself to leave the cabin in the (late night? very early morning?) wee hours. Melissa and Claudette were lightly sleeping, but when I turned or moved in my hammock, or grumbled at my lack of rest, they were awakened and not best pleased. So as quietly and quickly as I could dress, I put on over my chemise a cross-over bodice gown that I could fasten in front myself, and not have to wake someone for assistance with the buttons, left my hair loose and my feet bare, and departed the stuffy cabin for the fresher air on the deck.

I greeted Matthews, at the great wheel of the ship, with a wave, and he returned to me a nod. I had not been alone on deck at this hour before, and was mesmerized by the incredible depth and breadth of the night sky, gleaming with thousands of tiny stars in their deep velvet setting. The pale moon, hanging high as a crystal chandelier in a ballroom and throwing much the same magical light over the scene. The breeze, too, was cooler and fresher than during the heat of the day, and wrapped itself about me as though a cloak of soft comfort, while the bustling sounds of the crew in the daylight were reduced to rat lines singing in the breeze and muted thundering of the huge sails in counterpoint to the creaks and groans of the wood. I could close my eyes, and hear the sea borne symphony in the peace of the night, and felt myself sway as with a dance to that song of peace in the night.

Of course, on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic, peace generally does not last long. Shouting, crashes, bangs, laughter, and then the door of the captain's cabin burst open, as Archie crashed through it, followed closely by Horatio. We had all been up playing cards and charades fairly late, and when we left to go to our cabin, Horatio and Archie planned to make a final evening tour of the ship. Lord only know what else they had been up to since that time, (although I did wonder given this activity!), but at this point, they were apparently engaged in a wrestling match destined to scuttle the ship and send us all as refugees to the *Indy*! Archie was scrambling away from Horatio now, laughing, and clutching what appeared to be Horatio's ribbon from his queue. Horatio, grabbing at Archie's bare legs (bare legs? What was I seeing?) was trying to get it back. That was when I realized that neither was... well... appropriately dressed. Archie was in his long shirt, coming to about mid-thigh, and Horatio was - mostly - in his breeches (the cuffs were unbuttoned and flapping about his knees, and one side of the drop flap was unbuttoned and drooping), but both men were barefoot and tousled, and utterly adorable!

I covered my mouth with my hands to stifle my laughter, and moved back to the rail quietly as they had not yet seen me. I looked to Matthews, and he too was convulsed with quiet laughter at the play of the... well, boys at this moment. It was a game of keep-away, full of laughter and joy, and I had never seen Horatio so uninhibited up to that point. They grabbed, and tickled, and cursed, and rolled, and dove at each other to gain control of the battered ribbon, and finally fetched up at my feet. The shocked looks on their faces, as though caught stealing sips from their fathers' brandy decanters, caused me to break down into laughter again, and then Archie seemed to come to himself first, tossing me the length of ribbon and urging, "Run, Annie! Run!"

Caught up in the spirit of the game, I dodged toward the foc'sle, and an instant later Horatio followed. It must have been comical for Matthews to see, for as I dodged and wove to keep the silk from Horatio, he simply stalked me as a large cat might its prey: slow, confident steps, a swing of the hips and shoulders that was almost a swagger, his curls falling free along his shoulders, a dip of the head with a small, secret smile, hooding his dark eyes. Oh, this was a Horatio that I had not seen before, and he was as enticing as the finest satin, or the richest chocolate. If it would not have spoiled the game, I might have thrown myself on his chest, to feel that velvet skin against my arms and lips. But the anticipation (for I knew that he would prevail) was almost as heady as I realized the capture would be. So when he cornered me at the bow of the ship, and held out his hand, saying "Give it to me," in that husky tone, my mouth went dry and my heart pounded. Still, I could not give in so tamely, even (or especially?) to Horatio, and therefore I ducked under his other arm and raced back toward Archie and the quarter deck.

Horatio pivoted and dropped his arm, but managed only to stroke my side and hip, yet that touch seemed to burn through my dress and flesh, and weaken my bones so that it was hard to move away. This time, Horatio did not stalk me. Now he was the lion seeking the gazelle, and in but two bounds his hands captured my waist and pulled me to him. I twisted and giggled (for, intending to or not, he did tickle me unmercifully!), and would not give up the ribbon.

"No, Horatio, it is forfeit to me, and I shall keep it as a memento of this voyage," I pleaded to him. His grip loosened slightly, and he began to turn me to face him, with a soft smile upon his lips. Probably it would have ended there with a kiss, except that I caught sight of Archie out of the corner of my eye, and began to fling the ribbon to him as I called to him to catch it. Horatio now spun me around, and tossed me to his shoulder as a man would a sack of grain, holding me there with his arm about my thighs, and began to walk toward the companionway back to my cabin. I was astonished, for no man had handled me so before, unless as a very young child! I slapped his back and cried out, "Horatio! Put me down!"

  He did not. Instead, he slapped my buttocks! Oh, 'twas only one sharp slap, but again, no one had dared in my memory. I pushed my shoulders up, bracing my hands on his shoulder, to turn and remonstrate with him. Matthews choked from above us, and said, (trying so hard not to laugh), "Miss, better look sharp." I turned to see what he was talking about, and had to duck quickly, snuggling into Horatio's neck, to avoid being slammed into the top of the bulkhead when Horatio carried me past the companionway and into the captain's cabin. Archie was just inside the door, chortling and dancing, and Horatio put his free arm about Archie's shoulders, turning the three of us, while shoving Archie out of the cabin! He slammed the door, and pushed a chair up under the latch to keep the door closed. Archie was now alternately laughing and knocking, crying "'Ratio! I need my breeches!" And with that, I heard Matthews howl and sink to the quarter deck with unholy glee over our play.

Chapter XII

Education

But that was the last sound I heard from outside the cabin for a long time. I had braced myself up against his shoulder again, and looked down into Horatio's upturned face in the dim lamplight. His eyes were as a furnace, and the heat leapt across the space between us while he slowly slid me down along his body until my toes touched the deck, and his bare foot. He shuddered and closed his eyes, but still only touched me with that arm that had held me and supported me into the cabin. I raised my hand from his shoulder, and ran it along his cheek and jaw, feeling the slight stubble that had grown throughout the day, then ran my hand down along his neck and shoulder, sliding it in to cross his chest, feeling the steady and firm pounding of his heart.

Now both his arms closed about me, and Horatio lifted me to meet his lips: his hands gripping my buttocks and pushing my hips into alignment with his groin, forcing my knees to open and encircle him. My fingers combed through his curls and stroked his neck as our tongues danced and dueled, seeking to find all the hidden tastes and textures of our moist, warm mouths. Small sounds: mews, groans, almost but not quite words vibrated the air as we gasped with delight in the sensations we felt, the rare privacy, and the touch of skin to skin in unexpected places that we had not felt since leaving Jamaica. Finally our lips separated, and we leaned against each other: breathing heavily, hearts drumming erratically, as though having run all the way to Portsmouth from Jamaica.

He straightened, and moved me a little back from him, saying "Now you must return below, Anne, back to your cabin. I will see you in the morning."

I think he was surprised when I simply said "No," and burrowed back into his arms, stroking my cheek along his chest, gently tugging the fine hairs that grew between his taut nipples with my teeth.

"Anne, dear one, you must go, and go now, before your reputation is in shreds. It is still quick enough that you will be alright."

I kept my face tucked into his chest, breathing deeply of Horatio, listening to his heart slow, twining my arms about his waist and stroking his back. Horatio, on the other hand, did not seem sure what to do with his hands. They floated and fluttered, holding my arms, then tucking me in to his side, then moving my hips back from his. It was wonderful, and I did not at all wish to leave. "Then you will have to carry me, and I will not go quietly. I vow to wake the crew, Miss Georgia, and anyone else who can hear me." I could tell by his response (or lack of one!) that Horatio had not had any sisters, and probably had not seen much of women of any sort either, for he took me at my word. I was pleased that he had, but to be truthful, I do not know that I could have carried out my threat had he not.

Horatio sighed, and dropped a light kiss on the top of my head, saying as he rubbed his cheek along my hair, "Sweet, what will you then?"

"I would see you, and hold you, Horatio, and have you see and hold me. Will you?"

"You know that I would not... harm you or your chances... but this..." he began, but I stopped him, quickly placing my hand over his mouth. He almost distracted me from my intent, for he began to kiss my fingers, running his tongue over them and nipping the tips gently.

  "Horatio, we have not named these feelings to each other, but you must know that, at this time, I care little about who I may or may not meet in the future. I cannot say to myself 'Stop, Anne, do not have that which you need now in case you later need something else.' If there truly is to be another in my life, he will have to understand. But I cannot calmly face leaving you, and never learning... from you, and only you... that which my body demands. If it is hungry, it must be fed; thirsty, it must be watered. And at this time, I hunger and thirst for you... all of you, unless you do not wish it so for your own needs."

He took a deep shuddering breath, and closed his eyes. His face contorted as the muscles in his arms and across his shoulders corded for a moment. I was not certain whether he was preparing to firmly push me away and send me below, or to tighten his grip and keep me with him for as long as might be. All I could do was hold my breath and wait. Oh, I know that I could have pushed the balance. I could have reached down to fondle his member through his breeches as I had done on other evenings; I could have lapped at his nipple so near my lips as I had wanted to do on other evenings; there were many things I could have done. But in all honor (what little there might be in such a situation), I did feel that I had to leave some amount of choice to Horatio. And how like the arrogance of a 17 year old, to imagine that while standing in his arms, both of us partially clothed, stroking his skin, and telling him that I wanted him I was allowing him any choice at all!

And then his arms pulled me in close to him, and he lifted my chin with his finger so that he could gently, sweetly, kiss my lips. As mild as the intent may have been, the swift change from the furnace heat and frantic sensations of our earlier kisses to soft brushing, as a butterfly's wings, wrung a groan from me and melted my inner core so that had Horatio evaporated like a dream, I would have collapsed in a boneless heap to the deck. He pulled back, smiled at me, and tucked me under his arm as he might a precious gift. Then to my shock, he removed the chair from the door, and opened it, Archie falling in to land at our feet in amazement.

Before Archie could say anything but "Wha...," Horatio grabbed up his breeches from the floor near the doorway (what messes these boys - men - boys - whoever! could make when we weren't around to keep a watchful eye on them), and tossed them on his lap. "Good evening, Archie, I will see you when it is my watch," was all he said before again closing the door, with Archie once more on the outside.

Now his face was clear of the strain of decision, and his body glowed with a sheen of light sweat that heightened his scent and glistened along the ebbs and swells of his muscles and ribs. "Are you sure, Anne, that this is truly what you want? I am not much experienced in the ways of... what you ask, and I will try to... stop if you wish, but I do not know if I can promise."

I stretched up to kiss his mouth, touching only lips to lips, and moved my hands to the fastenings of my over-dress. It parted, and as I shrugged it slid down off my shoulders to hang as a stole across my elbows, leaving me in my chemise. Horatio's eyes heated again, and his breath came heavier and faster as his long fingers delicately traced the outlines of my breasts and nipples through the almost-sheer fabric before tugging open the drawstring that pulled in the gaping neckline. The fabric drooped, exposing the tops of my breasts to his gaze, and then his hands lifted them free of the chemise, which now slid off my shoulders to join the gown at my elbows. I straightened my arms, allowing my clothing to drop to the floor, and waited for Horatio's response.

  There was something heady in being naked for Horatio, offering my self to him, receiving his silent adoration and his tender kisses and caresses. I wanted so badly to return the gift, and raised my hands to caress his chest and ribs. His skin was so smooth and velvety, and yet firm with hard muscles sheathed by the flesh that alternately smoothed and tightened as I stroked. The beautifully thick and soft chestnut curls that I so loved to tousle and smooth on his head were not replicated on his body. The finer, tightly curled hairs were scant across his chest and added only enough contrast with his smooth skin to arouse me further until my hands dipped to his stomach and abdomen. There the hair thickened slightly, and seemed to form an arrow delving deep into his breeches, toward that mystery that I so longed to explore.

My finger tips slid into the waistband of his breeches, smoothing around his hips, feeling the points of his hip bones, and the spasms of his flesh at this touch. I tugged loose the drawstring at the back of his breeches, and felt them sag to catch on his hips as we stood, still protecting that secret that men guarded their daughters from. Now I brought my hands back to between us, and opened the buttons at his waist above the flap. Did his clothing cooperate as mine had? No, or perhaps it was his member that shyly wanted privacy, for the flap had caught across him, and did not let the breeches fully drop until I lifted the flap away. My face was still turned up toward Horatio's, but for the first time my hand brushed that velvety column of flesh itself which moved slightly, as a kitten - no, a tiger - to my palm, and then Horatio groaned as he swept me up into his arms, kicking free of our clothing, and carried me into the night cabin, to the wide cot tumbled with blankets where he slept.

No lamp was lit here, but some light from the day cabin entered through the door, and I could see in the shadows and highlighted planes of his face that Horatio felt some of the same exquisite pain that I did. I wanted to have, and taste, and know all now... and I wanted to wait, teasing and delaying, and prolonging the anticipation. Horatio laid next to me, wrapping me in his arms and legs, rubbing his body along mine. I could feel his member, long and firm and smooth, moving both as part of his body and to it's own needs, sliding along my abdomen, gliding along the hollow where my hip joined my body, spreading thick moisture as it went. I reached to clasp this treasure, and it filled my hand in its breadth. I could feel that the sheathe over the tip was pulling back to expose him in his glory, and that sensitive crown jerked and salivated at my touch.

"You see, Horatio, you hunger for me too," I murmured as I trailed kisses and tiny bites along the column of his neck and his shoulders. His hands moved unimpeded along my body, stroking and heating where they wandered, and then moved to bracket between my legs, lifting and melting me with their touch. Now I tugged at his member, sliding my hand along its length, stroking and patting, and then near its base, sliding my fingers through the springy curls, I found those taut, round balls that fit so well into my palm, and when touched, caused his member to seek my hand even more.

He gasped and arched his back, then used but a single finger to trace the private opening between my legs, and it was as though an electric eel had touched me - my brain stopped thinking, and all sensation fled to my nether regions to bask in his touch. He stroked, and I must have dropped his member, for my hands were suddenly clenching and flexing on his arms, as though to hold him next to me and prevent this feeling from ceasing. Through the haze on my sight, I saw him grin with pleasure, and then he slipped from my grasp. I clutched at his shoulders, afraid to lose him, but he slid his body down mine with his tongue recording the path he took as he evaded my hold, still stroking me with that magical finger.

  Then... his mouth at my core... and I do not know how I survived the incredible blend of rapture and pain, heat and cold, smooth and rough, but somehow I must have for my legs were wrapped about his shoulders, pulling him to me, while his hands maneuvered my hips in a circular motion. I tried to speak, to ask what was happening to me, but could not make true words come from my mouth - only small sounds. I began to quiver, and then tremble, and then to shake as though in a high wind from the currents running through me. My hands could not find purchase to hold me safely to the cot in one piece, and I thought I shattered, into thousands of tiny fragments of starlight and spray. But then his mouth was on mine again, and his weight pressed me into the cot, his member warm and thrusting against my thighs.

I gasped for air, and he made as if to roll off me, but I held him even closer by wrapping a leg around his hip, and shook my head against the hollow of his shoulder, and kissed the tendons at the joint of his arm. "No, don't go. Oh, please, don't go, Horatio."

He smiled, and laid soft kisses along my face and hair, much as a fond parent to a babe, gently stroking my sweat-soaked hair back out of my face. My trembling calmed, my breathing slowed, and my muscles sagged as though I had run for a day and a night. Now Horatio did roll to his side and then his back, but my leg about his hip carried me with him, and then to sit astride him as I had once before, only now instead of sadness and pain at our parting, there was the glow of affection. Now too, instead of being captured within his breeches, his member touched me intimately, and its moisture mingled with mine, as though our bodies were crying to be joined. I slid back slightly, feeling the pressure of him against me, and his face changed from pleasure and contentment to fear, but I did not recognize the change then as I adjusted my position, and felt him glide to fill me to overflowing. Then his eyes closed as he lifted his hips only slightly. My body reached out to take him in, feeling a small tear with some pain, but not nearly enough to make me remove him from me. No, this was what I had longed for... what I had needed to know... to have happen. I wanted to move, to feel that growth in me again and again, but Horatio held my hips still, and shook his head.

"No," he gasped, "wait..." and he took several long shuddering breaths before dropping his head back to the cot and smiling ruefully at me. "Anne, has there ever been a time that you have not gotten what you wanted?"

I stroked that dear neck, feeling the drying sweat in the tender juncture of shoulder and chest, his heart thudding powerfully in his breast, and shook my head. Perhaps if I had been denied more often as a child, I would not have been so obstinate about Horatio, but no matter the result, I could not regret this moment with him. My body urged me to move, to ride, to stroke Horatio with my core. The sensations were driving, and I moaned with the frustration of being unable to meet those needs. Horatio was yet holding me still, but I found that I could move in small circles, tipping my hips. He groaned, and then began to pump steadily with his hips, driving me up onto my knees and then sinking down with him to prevent losing him from me. His hands flattened my breasts to my ribs while I rubbed his nipples and stroked his flat belly, rimming his soft navel with just a finger tip, smoothing the soft pads of muscle that covered his hip bones. Then I reached back with one hand to grasp his balls again, and with a shudder and a gasp, he drove himself into me as though to cleave me in two, bracing himself up on his shoulders and heels for a moment.

    He subsided, and drew me down to lay along him. I felt him slip from inside me, and tried to move to keep him, but Horatio only chuckled, saying "Not yet," and rolling us back to our sides. We stroked and smoothed each other with lips and hands, cataloging the changes in texture and heat we had created. My eyes dropped to his member, and I was astonished at the sight: nowhere near what I had expected after our caresses and explorations! Rather, small and helpless looking, nestled in its nest of curls, pulled back into its sheltering hood. Horatio must have read my face, for he gave a soft crow of laughter, and gathered me snugly into his arms, nuzzling my neck with kisses. "Anne, it will return. Do not fear..." and then the laughter faded from his face. "Or should we? Anne, I have been with... friends, mates, ...and with women you will never meet: the women who give themselves to men for money. Never with a woman like you. If we have made a child tonight... what shall we do?"

"Hush, dear," I kissed his lips softly. I certainly had not considered this possibility - of course, when I had been unable to sleep, I had only considered alleviating a stifling night, not being with Horatio. "We shall know before we make Portsmouth, and shall be able to make whatever plans we must." He did not look comfortable with that vagueness. I sighed. "Know this, Horatio, I could not regret a child of yours more than I would regret not having loved you, having been with you this night," and I snuggled back into his embrace, feeling the warm strength of his body surrounding mine.

But the mood was gone, and although the afterglow still burned within me, I could tell that Horatio was now uncomfortable in his thoughts and worries. Had I thought my actions through (I know, I know, to be able to think, I should have kept my clothing on), I would have realized that my actions would distress Horatio while also pleasuring both of us. He could not be content with letting matters take their course, but must worry and fret over circumstances that might occur. While I appreciated his concern, and regretted that I had caused it, I also wished that he might be easier about things. But since he wasn't, I knew I must leave, to let Horatio have privacy for himself, to mull through what could have been done differently and come to some decision within himself about the best way to handle... whatever might or might not occur.

He did not demur, but helped me to dress, moving unselfconsciously with a naked grace about the cabins to pick up our discarded clothing, and gently finger combing my hair into a semblance of order. At the door to the day cabin he took me in his arms once more for a kiss, his eyes troubled and his mouth at peace, but before he could say aught, I placed my finger over his lips and whispered fiercely "Don't regret this, love, you did nothing that was not demanded. Don't regret anything that we did tonight." I could not bear to see him assuming responsibility for the actions I had instigated, and chastising himself. It would have been far easier had he chastised me, but I knew that he would not. So I kissed him gently once more, then slipped through the door and down the companionway to find my empty hammock, and sleep soundly until the dawn.

Chapter XIII

Results

In my dreams, naturally, everything after that night was wonderful: rainbow-hued, dolphin-led, and of course Horatio was ennobled immediately upon our arrival at Portsmouth, with a full purse of prize money awarded by the Admiralty (from where, I knew and cared not), and you must know that we were soon married and lived happily ever after with a brood of well behaved children.

In my reality, well, shall we simply say that reality was nothing like my dreams.

Oh, I know I should have been more concerned about the possibility of having made a child, but somehow I knew that it would not happen from our interlude. Horatio, however, punished himself and me, and Archie, and even the twins for this possibility. Archie had early on told me that Mr. Bracegirdle had once described Horatio as being so hard on himself, that if he saved the navy, he would berate himself for not saving the army too, and this was apparent in his response to us. Horatio now was proper, distant, and kept his eyes well up on the horizon when speaking to any of us - which he did only when he could not avoid it. Our meals became for four rather than five, as Horatio was suddenly needed on deck rather than being able to eat with us. No longer would he jest and play at word games, or teach us to read the signals from the *Indy*. In short, he had become the Horatio Sarah had described in Jamaica.

In romance novels, this is not what happens. Now, admittedly, the heroine does not lie with her beloved before (or even after, as far as the novels are concerned!) marriage, but love changes even the most dour heart into a joyous one, at least in the stories. However, our tryst had changed Horatio into a staid, rule-bound, paper-board officer. Had I known this to be the outcome, would I have insisted on being with him? I don't know. I might have gone back to my cabin meekly, certain that another chance would occur when he would not take such fear. Perhaps I would not have pushed back onto his member; then there would have been no need for such fear. But I didn't avoid him, and this was the result.

Archie, of course, had guessed at least part of what happened that night (how could he not?), and commiserated with me without (ever so delicately) mentioning the reason for the need. The twins may have found out from Archie, although I doubt it, but more likely they simply felt that I had changed, and that Horatio was the likely cause of it. However they came to their conclusions, they attempted to make things better, by being over-solicitous, over-quiet and over-careful, and so over-sympathetic that I wanted to push them all overboard! Even Matthews must have divined all that had occurred (in truth, why would I think he hadn't?), for as I was leaning on the rail alone, he came over, patted my arm, and said "Sorry, lass," shaking his head. What? Did I have a scarlet letter painted upon my forehead, as was used to be done in the American colonies? Had signals been sent to all the ships in the convoy? Even Cat was quieter than her wont when we saw each other, and I knew that it was out of "respect" for my tender feelings.

Well, my "tender feelings" were becoming more and more angered. Horatio was not going to get away with ignoring me like this - not if I had any say about it. Oh, much as I wished it could occur (and all night each night as well as every time I saw him on deck, or thought about him my body reminded me that it too wanted more), I knew that we would not share love in that way again. I really did somehow know that I would not have a child at this time, but I could not - would not - trust to fate for a second time. What I wanted... what I missed... what I needed... was the easy relationship, and camaraderie with Horatio. For heaven's sake, had I ever demanded that he marry me and give up the sea? Had I once reproached him for our actions? Was I going to? (Well, to be truthful, maybe he thought I would. But I wished he would have brought it up to me, or allowed me to bring it up to him.)

And so I steamed, and I stewed, and I stifled for three long days. I tried to smile at him, but he ignored me. I tried to speak with him about commonplace things, but he bowed and moved away. I even took Melissa's advice, and actually went up on deck in a light dress with no chemise beneath it, and while his eyes heated and his hands moved toward me, he immediately turned and went into the captain's cabin. I went back down to the cabin and dressed fully - I could not stay on deck so underdressed! I even considered telling him that my courses were late (they were not), just to get him to speak! But I couldn't - I couldn't lie to Horatio, and such a lie would hurt him even more than my actions had. I couldn't think what to do. It seemed that no matter what I tried, Horatio was determined to not acknowledge me, and even Melissa and Claudette agreed that this was not the Horatio we had come to know over these few weeks. At times I could even see Archie watching Horatio with a puzzled look as well, suggesting that he was not sure how to handle this... mess... either.

Finally, the evening after the debacle of appearing on deck almost naked, Archie did speak with me. He was most concerned at the change in our behavior, and feared that Horatio had taken liberties with me that had angered me. It was hard to explain even - or more like, especially - to my best friend that I had actually taken liberties with Horatio, although that seemed to clear up the mystery for Archie. He was kind, providing me literally with a shoulder to cry on, and rocked me in his arms until I calmed. He tried to make me laugh, commenting on the "new fashion" I was attempting to start, and how much the men would appreciate it, but met with only small success. I almost wished that I felt for Archie as I did for Horatio - as complex as I knew Archie to be, at least we could talk about matters close to our hearts, unlike Horatio and I.

But finally on the very next day I found a chance to speak with Horatio almost privately. Given the nature of the conversation that was needed, I did not wish to broach the subject with others about, and yet Horatio now took such care to always be with others, particularly the crew, that I had been unable to find a time and place to have private speech with him for some time. All of this plotting, and watching: I felt like the hunter stalking its prey in the jungle... where could I lay an ambush, would the beast outwit me, would the conflict result in capture of the hunter or hunted? I made my move before luncheon, when he was on the quarterdeck, taking his noon sightings in accordance with naval procedure. Only Matthews and myself were still topside, and of course a couple of crew members on the main deck coiling ropes and completing other necessary tasks. I approached Horatio after he calculated our position, but before he set himself another task that would remove him from proximity with me.

"Leftenant Hornblower? I wonder if I might have a moment of your time?" I hated having to be so formal, but had decided that it was the best way to convey both my recognition of his withdrawal, and my determination to discuss it with him. Even so, what I truly wanted to do was to burrow into his arms: holding and being held, and discussing what might occur. But I knew that such an act would drive Horatio even further away. I confess, I almost wanted Horatio's child to grow in me... long and lean, with dimples and those deep coffee colored eyes and curls. But at what cost to his father? No, far better that there be no child, even though my body called out to his for his seed.

He startled, slung those long, magical hands behind his back to twist and wring, and stuttered a little as he indicated that he was rather busy with his tasks at that time. I wanted to smooth away the furrows in his forehead, to pull his head to pillow on my breast and let him sleep away his cares. But I could not show weakness: I must make him see that we would discuss this, and discuss it very soon.

 "Oh, I certainly understand. Can you tell me when Mr. Kennedy shall be on watch again, so that I may make an appointment with you at that time, or shall I ask him for the times you are available?" I was not going to be fobbed off so easily, not after screwing up my courage to speak with him, and managing to get him alone but still in public.

He looked frustrated, and cast his eyes around the quarterdeck, as though seeking a signboard that would lay out what he should say to end this interview with the least time, and therefore, least pain to all. Finally he ducked his head, faced me, and capitulated.

"Lady Anne, is there something that you require of me at this time? Would you be so good as to lay out your needs and wishes?" His words were cold, but his voice trembled slightly and I could see that muscle at the corner of his jaw flexing and relaxing as it did in times of tension.

I could not help but smile, although I fear it may have been sardonic rather than content or happy. As though Horatio truly wished to know what I needed... although, to grant him credit where it may be due, perhaps he did but was only frightened that he would not be able to provide it. And I have learned over the years that frightened men do not know how to express this, or how to deal with it. But this was my first experience with such, and I would learn that I did not know how to handle it well either.

"Thank you, Mr. Hornblower. I believe that my... needs are relatively simple, although your part in them, I must admit, may not be so simple." His eyes widened, and he drew back slightly. "No, nothing that would compromise you or your ideals. Again, Horatio, I beg of you do not regret what happened. I do not regret it, and although I do not know how I know this, I do know that there will not be a child. What I need is for you to accept what has happened, and to return to that amiable congregation we had before."

Now his face became angry: high color, flaring nostrils, and tossed back to look down his nose at me. "Does this mean, then, that what occurred had no meaning for you? Was I just a convenient... method... for you to learn about the biology of humans? A stud for your desires? Do you truly expect me to just go on as though nothing occurred? What sort of woman are you?" His voice almost hissed with disdain, and his eyes were narrowed in a knife-edged glare.

I shook my head, looking down at the deck to avoid those eyes that now glowed with almost hate. "No, you misunderstand me, Horatio. I put it badly. What occurred meant so much to me, that although I know and accept it cannot occur again, I also cannot bear to have lost any connection with you because of it. Also, your avoidance of all of us - Archie, Melissa, Claudette, and myself - punishes them at least as much as me." I looked up at him again, moving closer to lay my hand on his arm. "If you feel the need to punish me for loving you... for yes, Horatio, I do love you and always will, whether or not we are ever together again... then punish me, and not them. I do not expect you to 'go on as though nothing occurred,' but rather to accept what has occurred and to go on from there. You have studied the Greeks, and I have been told that they believe in both Eros and Agape. Although Eros must be forbidden to us, I would share Agape with you If that is possible. Can we emulate the Greeks?"

As I spoke, I could see him ease slightly, although my declaration of love (or perhaps my hand on his arm) caused him to tense once more for an instant, and he shook his head slightly at my mention of the Greeks. I worried that I had lost him forever even before the voyage ended. He looked down, studying the deck or perhaps his shoes for a moment. His face, from that angle, appeared somewhat sulky, and in my mind I likened it to that of a child who knows he may have been wrong, but is not sure that he wants to give it up yet. He frowned up to me.

"Lady Anne," he spoke quietly, "I do not know if it is possible. I have not had much experience... in any fashion... with women of quality. I find that since meeting you, you invade my thoughts and dreams in a most... impetuous fashion, and have made it difficult to concentrate on the tasks at hand. I do not know why this is so... forgive me, Lady, but although you are comely, it is not beauty; and although you are intelligent, it is not wisdom. And now, since that night... I find that I can scarce breathe without recalling you." He shook his head, and turned away for a moment. "I cannot live like this: thinking about you instead of my duties, trying to find some way for us to remain together, although I know that it is not possible." He broke off, sighed, and scrubbed his hands down his face, perhaps to wipe the confusion from it? "It seems to me that, much as a surgeon takes off an injured limb to prevent infection, it would be best for me to sever our connection before we truly go too far. I do not intend to punish anyone but myself, but I must make sure that I do not act in such a fashion again." Now he came to face me once more. "I would value your friendship and companionship, but do not know if I can separate it from my... wanting... to be with you again, in bed. I do not know if I can emulate your Greeks. Can you see that?"

I had to stop and think. So wrapped up in my own needs had I been, that I had not considered the effects of our acts on Horatio other than his possible fathering of a child, which I knew to be false. "I am sorry, Horatio. Could I have foreseen this outcome, perhaps I would have gone back to my cabin that night. But still, I find it hard to regret what occurred. If we can accept what we have had, and the less that we will have, it may be ours. And Horatio, you are so much more to me than simply a way to learn of biology, or as you so eloquently put it, 'a stud for my desires,' that I would ask to be able to talk with you, laugh with you, in company with others again. Can this be so?"

"I don't know, Lady Anne. I will think on it, and perhaps I will be at dinner with you tonight. Perhaps I will not. I had never thought to guard my heart before I met you, and now I must consider how to protect that territory which you have invaded... however unknowingly."

He nodded to me in dismissal, his jaw and throat working. Had he been a girl, I would have interpreted these workings to indicate an attempt to not cry, but I had a difficult time imagining Horatio feeling that strongly about our plight. I should have known better: Horatio, who could never meet his own standards; Horatio, who covered over his feelings and laughter in order to seem in control; Horatio, who was torn between conflicting dreams of honor and glory in the navy, and peace and comfort with a love ashore. I had hurt him badly, even though without intent, and I have regretted that ever since. I watched him turn away and walk to the taffrail, leaning heavily on it and looking back at the way we had come. I felt a chill - whether in the air or in my bones I did not know, and left the deck to Horatio and Matthews.

I went below to find that I was not much hungry for luncheon, and that the meeting with Horatio had drained such energy as remained in me. After making my excuses to Melissa and Claudette, I removed to our cabin and crawled into my hammock for a rest. However, as may be expected, it was not very successfull. I believe that my body recalled the previous time I had taken an afternoon nap, and alarmed at every noise and movement it did not recognize (which was most of them). Then when I did manage to fall asleep, I dreamed of Horatio and I... and of him refusing me, or worse yet, taking me and then laughing. I got very little rest: twisting and turning, trying without success to find a comfortable position, and as a consequence was much annoyed and short-tempered when I arose to freshen up for dinner.

My temper was not helped when I emerged from the cabin to find that dinner was being set up on one of the hanging tables in the wardroom, rather than above in the captain's cabin. I asked Melissa what had happened, and after a quick glance at Claudette, she informed me that Horatio and Archie had both sent their regrets for dinner, and hoped we would understand their need to complete their assigned duties.

My temper boiled, and were I a teapot, I have no doubt steam would have emerged from my ears and mouth. "They said *what*," I hissed? I could not believe this! Just before lunch we had talked, and it had seemed that, even if he could not bring himself to be with me, he would at least stop avoiding everyone else. And yet, just a few hours later, he had withdrawn Archie from our society as well!

I took a calming breath, unclenched my hands, and made myself speak in well-modulated tones. "Perhaps I missed something while I rested. Has there been a change of some sort in our passage that requires Messers Hornblower and Kennedy on deck this evening? Perhaps Captain Pellew has requested their presence on the *Indy*, or we are sailing into a storm? Perhaps they have word of another mutiny?"

Claudette tried to hide her smile - a fond, indulgent one such as a parent might bestow on an importunate child - but didn't quite manage it, to my chagrin. "No, or at least not that we have been informed of," she specified.

Melissa joined in, although Claudette attempted to signal her to remain quiet. I was pleased that she did not comply, for had she pretended to know nothing, I would have been forced to drag her knowledge out of her and I would regret doing so to a friend. But the... situation... with Horatio had driven me to distraction, and I could no more have forgone the information than I could have climbed the mainmast and flown back to Jamaica unassisted. Melissa's comment was short, but intriguing. "Horatio and Archie have spent much of the afternoon together, on the quarterdeck and in their cabin. Matthews has been directing the operations of the ship for the most part."

I could not make this fit with what Horatio had said earlier. I could not make anything about this voyage fit with anything I had ever known, and I was worn out with trying. I buried my face in my hands. "This does not make sense," I whispered. "I spoke with Horatio before luncheon, and thought we had agreed that, although things might not be just the same as... before... at least we five could remain friends and share meals and conversation. What could have changed?" I was confused and distraught, and Melissa and Claudette saw it. Melissa hugged me tightly, while Claudette stroked my hair and made soothing noises. I hadn't thought I needed soothing, but I found hot tears of frustration squeezing out from between my eyelids.

Melissa crooned to me softly, and said, "We don't know what has happened. We can see that both of you are unhappy, and that Archie is worried as well. But Horatio will not speak with us, and Archie tells us that he cannot say."

"It is painful to watch," said Claudette, "and we would do whatever we could to help, if we but knew what to do."

I tried to smile, as I sniffled back my tears and wiped my face. "I doubt there is anything that anyone can do. I have made a mess of things, and I do not know if Horatio will allow me to try to atone for my actions." I shook my head, and sat up straighter. "We spoke before lunch, and I thought that he would join us this evening, or at least, would join the rest of you, even if he sent a message for me to stay away. I can't think why he would continue to stay away from everyone else, and why Archie would join with him in this!" And once again I collapsed on Melissa's shoulder with tears.

"Anne," Claudette said slowly, "perhaps you should find out. All we know is what they sent to us, not the reason for it. Horatio has been reliable and... honorable... as long as we have known him. I cannot believe that this is a capricious, or malicious action."

 "And Archie," added Melissa, "has always enjoyed our evening meals. He would not miss one unless there were something important that could not be put off. Ask them. One of them will tell you, I'm sure of it."

"Yes," said Claudette, "at least Archie will always tell you what he can. You know how much he cares for you. He would not wish you to be unhappy over something he has or has not done."

I straightened again, and wiped my eyes with the back of one hand, trying to laugh and not quite making it. "I will, but first I must freshen up. If I appear looking like this, they will think I am Cassandra crying 'woe,' and not recognize me." Melissa and Claudette were much more successful at laughing than I, and after calling for heated water to be brought to our cabin for me to wash with, escorted me to our cabin to assist me in dressing as they had the night Archie and Horatio arrived.

Again they sought to dress me in provocative styles (was this, then, their answer to everything? But look alluring, and you will have what you wish? I could not believe that it would be so easy to do so), however this time I over ruled them and simply washed my face to reduce the redness and puffiness left by my emotions, chose a fresher gown, and brushed my curls smooth with a chiffon tying them out of my face. I felt then, and still feel now, that to have dressed provocatively would do us all a disservice. I needed information, not loss of concentration and focus on anyone's part, including my own. And of the three of us, I feared that my concentration might be the most difficult to maintain.

When I was dressed, I took a deep breath, saluted Melissa and Claudette, and mounted the stairs to the main deck. The stairs felt longer than usual, as though I were climbing several flights instead of one short one. And the view... generally, walking up the stairs we had a glimpse of the wide sky above and it felt free. Today, it appeared more as a glowing light at the end of a dark tunnel - an ominous light rather than a friendly one. I felt as though I were being taken to the guillotine, or perhaps to face a firing squad or burning stake, and forced my legs to carry me up rather than helping me to hide in my hammock from all men. I knew that I must have this out with Horatio (and perhaps Archie), or spend the remainder of my life trying to determine what had occurred, and why, and that this would not be a stable base upon which to build my new life.

I slowly approached the captain's cabin door: teeth and fists clenched, head lowered as a fighter might upon entering the ring and facing his opponent. Matthews hailed me from the quarter deck and waved me to come up. Of course I went: Matthews had been such an important personage aboard the *Enchante* that I could not imagine refusing any request he might make. Besides, he might have the information I needed and save me from having to find it from Horatio and Archie myself. Of course, even if he did not, stopping to speak with him would help me to procrastinate and perhaps something would occur to eliminate the need for me to beard Horatio and Archie in their den. I had reached the point where I would settle for whatever I could have. Matthews asked after my day, described our progress toward England, and told a wickedly funny tale of Styles and Richards playing pranks on each other, culminating in a rat in one's hammock, which both blamed on Oldroyd who was entirely innocent. Poor Oldroyd! Whenever someone was needed to be the guy, he seemed to be elected! But I knew that Matthews would help to protect him, particularly when he was not at fault. Would that he could do the same for me, even though I had to admit that I was the one at fault here. When we ran out of conversation (which didn't take long, for I was not able to contribute much), I excused myself, saying that I needed to speak with Mr. Hornblower and Mr. Kennedy.

Matthews tried to put me off, saying that there was no need, he would be pleased and proud to assist, and knew that the other seamen would also, and that both captains were occupied with serious matters. He stressed again that he would assist any of us with anything, and then waited with eyebrows raised, as though expecting me to tell the tale. As much as I trusted him, this was not something I could discuss with anyone but Horatio and Archie.

Besides, what he said didn't make sense. Surely if something serious had occurred, something serious enough to keep both Horatio and Archie fully occupied for several hours in the cabin, Melissa and Claudette would have caught wind of it, and Matthews would have referred to it in our conversation. No, something else was going on, and I would need to find out what it was - or at least find some way to circumvent it. I put on my best "grand lady" airs, based on Sarah in a snit, thanked Matthews condescendingly, and went straight down the stairs to the captain's cabin door. Only now Styles was in front of it, leaning oh, so casually against the frame. I didn't believe for an instant that this was a coincidence, and I was not going to allow myself to be put off now that I had got some momentum.

He knuckled his forehead, grinning at me, and asked how my day had fared. I responded brusquely, and requested that he allow me to enter the cabin. As Matthews had, he attempted to put me off, saying that both captains were engaged, and not to be disturbed. I was tired of hearing this, and not about to meekly turn and walk away.

Again, I resorted to grand airs, much though I regretted using them on such staunch allies as Matthews and Styles, to respond to them. "Thank you, Styles. I shall see that Lt. Hornblower and Acting Lt. Kennedy are aware that you informed me of their... unavailability," said with a face that implied he was lying. "However, I shall enter that cabin as I do need to speak with them. I believe that Captain Pellew has given orders that you men are to acquiesce to our wishes unless it imperils the safety of the ship?" That last was a blind guess, but it must have been accurate, for Styles moved aside, shaking his head and mumbling something about the "safety of (someone's) hide," and allowed me access to the door.

Chapter XIV

Practicum

Twice I rapped softly, calling out to Lt. Hornblower and Acting Lt. Kennedy, then opened the door and entered. I do not know what I had expected, but it was not the sight that met my eyes. Oh, I do not mean the condition of the cabin itself: too often had we arrived for dinner to find Horatio and Archie blithely tossing things into the night cabin as a means to clean and straighten for their guests for me to be perturbed by the general dishevelment of the room. No, it was the sight that came after that shook me.

The day cabin was empty of people, and at first I thought that they were not here: that Matthews and Styles were mistaken. Then I heard the voices from the night cabin. I called out, and moved toward that open door. At first my mind insisted on analyzing the composition of the scene rather than identifying it. It reminded me of drawings of ancient Greek friezes, or possibly of the Greeks' incredibly life-like marble statues. Two young gods of Olympus, reclining together, one perhaps being comforted by the other: lying sprawled across his friend's chest with his head resting on the strong shoulder of his comforter; all shining skin and firm muscle and gleaming hair, with virility and relaxed power in every line. A study in contrasts: light and shadow, slender and sturdy, pain and compassion.

After admiring the view momentarily, my mind finally agreed to identify it. Horatio and Archie, naked... in bed together!?!? Oh, there was no... activity occurring, but still, I found that although I had thought I believed Melissa and Claudette when they indicated that Horatio and Archie were... intimate, now I realized that I had not! I must have gasped. My eyes widened, and I know that my hands flew to cover my mouth. I responded as though I had stumbled upon a hunter's snare, full with captured meat, and began to step back toward the day cabin door to the main deck. It was then that I was noticed. Archie reacted first, sitting up, moving Horatio from sprawling across him.

"Anne! Wait! Don't go!" he cried, as Horatio rolled over to see me in the doorway. Archie disentangled himself from Horatio's legs, and quickly ran to catch my arm.

"Archie," I didn't know where to look. "You... you're naked." I tried to close my eyes, but they would not. I tried to look at the joint of the ceiling and wall, but my eyes felt magnetized, as a compass point, drawn toward those beautiful bodies as now Horatio had joined Archie and I. I was left with an extremely narrow field of vision that was safe. Therefore, my eyes did not remain where I placed them, but widened and heated, and slid over to view those broad shoulders, the tight flanks, the strong necks, and to catalog the differences between these two Adonises: ivory silken skin to golden satin skin; umber nipples reaching out in the cool air to pale pink, almost virginal-seeming nipples waiting to be enticed; fine silken hair peeking out from beneath their arms in contrast to the bold curls at their groins; members at what I later learned was called "half mast:" neither flaccid nor aroused, but oh, so tempting: questing blindly for a caress or kiss. My hands slid up, one to each of their shoulders, and along the napes of their necks, and both men moved in to slide arms about me and each other, and kiss my cheeks, my hair, my neck. My hands fluttered across their backs, and then slid down, in symmetrical motion, curving across their ribs and then down their backs to smooth their buttocks. I groaned with pain at the thought of moving away from this temptation, and was answered by their deep throated moans of pleasure, and felt their members gently bumping my abdomen and each other.

My eyes closed, and my head sank back, allowing lips to trail down my throat, then my lips finding soft skin over smooth muscles as I was snugged between them in the most delicious fashion. One hand forward, one behind to find the differences in their heat; four hands seeking my body through my clothing, and then swift fingers unbuttoning my gown and untying my chemise, followed by the touch of lips sliding over newly exposed skin front and back. Wordless murmurs of appreciation from all three of us. Hands gliding over bodies... whose was not important. The feel of blankets beneath me, and being cradled in strong legs and arms.

I became as avid as a child with piles of birthday presents, and explored with abandonment using my hands and mouth, sliding my lips and tongue from body to body, noting the differences in their taste and texture... skin, hair, muscle. Lower my lips sank, finding a member fully aroused. My hand had touched before, and I recalled the warmth intensely: the smooth gliding of skin giving way to the rough curls... I lapped, as though it were an unbelievably warm ice sliver given as a rare treat, and heard Horatio groan deeply, sounding pained. I stopped, and looked up at him, with his head thrown back, eyes closed, and Archie wrapped around him from behind, kissing his shoulder and fondling his nipples. Horatio's hands gently brought my head back to his member, and I saluted it with a kiss on that moist crown, before taking it into my mouth and feeling it grow even larger in the moist heat. He groaned again, and Archie winked at me, saying "Horatio, does your cock like girls?" I giggled, and Horatio reached back with his hand, stretching out that muscular chest, to pull Archie's face around to his for a long, deep kiss.

Archie tipped us all over to our sides on the cot with Horatio in the middle, and now he joined me in my grazing of Horatio's body. Our mouths moved over Horatio's nipples, across the tendons binding his shoulders, and his hands attempted to bring us back to his chest. Archie grinned, saying "Naughty, naughty, 'Ratio," and then quickly pulled both of Horatio's hands over his head and held them there, exposing his soft and tender ribs and underside of his arms. The feel and taste of that skin... so much softer than across his shoulders or arms... Archie leaned down to kiss Horatio, and I could see his tongue exploring the warm depths of Horatio's mouth while his other hand pinched Horatio's nipple.

Horatio twisted and writhed, lifting his hips, bringing his member (cock?) up, perhaps trying to reach us? Seeking caresses? I moved my lips lower, but Archie touched my shoulder, and stopped me, smiling and winking. I thought I understood what he meant, so rather than again kissing and sucking on that member I teased it: playing with Horatio's balls with my hands and tongue, licking the joint of his leg and groin, tugging the fine hairs on his thighs, but never - quite - touching him or allowing him to touch me. Archie nodded to me with approval, but Horatio tried to capture me with his legs, holding me to his groin. I could see him growing even larger, becoming engorged with titillation and frustration, and did not wish to stop him since he obviously enjoyed being teased. But what else could I do? For lack of a better idea, I tickled the back of his knee, and both he and Archie exploded with laughter.

I will confess that I was somewhat jealous: I wanted to be kissed and caressed as well, and my body cried out to be filled: with those two cocks if it was at all possible (how impractical the dreams of youth!), and then Horatio must have read my mind, for Archie released him and he leaned down to me, taking my shoulders and laying them back on the cot while he drove his tongue into my mouth, recapturing that wild rhythm of his member in my body from the time we had made love; sliding his cock (such a word!) along my hip and stomach. I know that it was my turn to writhe with the sensation, increased as his hands teased my nipples up into excitement. And then another mouth... Archie, sliding his lips along my body, and then untying my garters and rolling my stockings down my legs, following them with his warm lips. I found that, along with that spot behind my ear, my legs also were sensitive to kisses, and I felt myself turn to liquid... melting with desire as Archie moved upwards to take my nipple into his mouth, gently using his teeth to stroke it. My hands stretched down to capture their members... cocks... and stroke them along my hips as I lay in the middle with their legs thrown over mine. Differences again... in length and breadth, but not in warmth. My legs opened as of their own volition, seeking to slide under one of those warm weights, but I was thwarted with a laugh at my throat. Oh, cruel justice, to tease me as we had teased Horatio! Would we also get to tease Archie? I certainly hoped so! And then hands at my core, and if I had thought Horatio was incredible alone, the simultaneous touches from both Horatio and Archie drove me off a cliff I hadn't known existed on the *Enchante* before this, and left me shuddering and weak. Both men kissed me softly, and smiled as I stroked their backs. I could feel the complement to the satisfied, smug smiles I saw them wearing spreading across my face as well. Horatio moved his hand to stroke Archie's neck and Archie captured a finger in his teeth, rolling back and gently pulling Horatio's arm across me and onto him, stroking both of us at once.

Then Archie was gone, and Horatio moved atop me, slowly and sensuously rubbing his long thigh between my legs as he fondled me and dropped quick kisses along my face. After a moment of this pleasure though, Horatio gasped, and arched his back. I opened my eyes, concerned that he was in pain, that I had somehow hurt him. But I could see that Archie was behind him, pumping his cock into Horatio's ass (believe me, I never thought I would use those words... particularly in that context!) and then he began teasing and swirling his fingers from Horatio's nipples to mine, and the look on both their faces, and probably mine, was one of ecstasy rather than pain. I reached to grasp Horatio's member in my hand, and felt it throb and grow with every stroke Archie took. Now Horatio's lips raced across my face and neck, along my breasts, while his hands fluttered and spasmed as though unable to settle. Suddenly Archie drove into Horatio and stayed, tensed, with his face almost in a rictus, pushing Horatio's member up into my hand, and Horatio too tensed... spurting thick, warm, creamy droplets of fluid from his member to cover my hand and stomach, and then they both collapsed into a warm, sweaty heap: on me, on each other, all of us braided and twisted together.

We lay for perhaps a few moments, perhaps a few hours. I cannot recall, nor have I ever particularly cared. I do know that it was so incredibly sensual: the touch of skin to skin, the individual scents of the three of us mingling in the warm, dusky room, the sight of all that gleaming skin, the sound of our breath slowing with relaxation and our murmurs of affection and cosseting... I recall thinking that I would remain perfectly happy, if we could only just stay here, together, forever. Oh, the thought of being hedonists: staying naked together at all times, free to touch and be touched, sharing pleasure, never separating. And the nights...

But with that thought, I recalled what I had come to do... and then recalled what I had done instead. I sat up, curling my legs to the side, and winding an arm across my breasts as I closed my eyes and marshalled my thoughts. Horatio and Archie raised warm hands to stroke my legs, my arms, my stomach, murmuring for me to come back down to join them, and Archie pressed a warm kiss to my hip.

I shook my head, opening my eyes. "I don't know. This - this is too much. I can't tell..." I looked at their faces in puzzlement, and saw mirrored there confusion. They paused, watching me as I drew my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms about them to hold myself in a tightly curled ball. How could I explain? I was not angry, but what had occurred? How had it happened? Could it happen again? Was this... this incredible experience common? How many more things had not been covered in my education? How had I gone from intending to have a reasonable discussion with friends to lying naked in bed with not one but two beautiful men? Oh, why did I put myself in this position, and how soon would I be able to do so again!

Horatio took charge, understanding it seems that I was confused more than distressed. "Archie, go and dress quickly. I'll wait here with Anne until you come back, and then I'll dress." This was probably a smart move, as left to my own devices while they dressed I would surely have tormented myself about my lack of self-control, and if we three remained naked together, I was sure that I could not resist touching them and beginning again. Archie nodded, gave my arm a squeeze, and moved back into the day cabin, where our clothing was scattered. Horatio curled himself up against the hull of the ship, pulling me back into his arms and gently kissing my ear from behind me. "Anne, are you alright?"

"I don't know, Horatio. I know that I came here because I needed to speak with you, but now... now I don't know what to do. I don't understand... what... what was happening? Oh, I am sorry for disturbing you, but I needed desperately to get something straight in my head - and I find that I still do. Horatio, we spoke before lunch, and I had thought we had made something of an agreement to at least be civil to each other, even if you felt we could not be any more than that. Then when both of you said you could not attend dinner due to 'the needs of your duties,' it seemed too much a set piece, particularly as you had been together all afternoon with no one else aboard knowing of any concerns. I had to know, and Melissa and Claudette too wanted to know if all of our friendship and yes, love, was ended. And I knew that if I waited to ask, I could not find the strength to do so. Can you forgive me for this evening? As well as that other?"

He slid his arm around my shoulders, and turned me to lay my head on his shoulder. I could feel his warm skin beneath my cheek, and closed my eyes to breathe in his scent. "Horatio... what are... what were...?"

He laughed a little, and to my ears it sounded somewhat shamefaced. "Archie had just finished explaining to me that you were right, and that punishing all of us for a choice you and I had made was wrong."

"But Horatio, did you have to take off your clothes to do so?" My hand was moving up his arm, following the curves of his muscles, my lips burrowed into the hollow of his neck as I began to wrap myself about him once more.

Now he hugged me to him, moving me astride his legs, with a small shout of laughter and my hands slid up around his neck to toy with his hair as our bellies brushed and our faces touched and nuzzled. "Are you jealous, Anne? Archie will be pleased!" I buried my face in his shoulder, afraid to have him see the laughter... and longing in my eyes.

"Archie will be pleased with what?" asked the object of our conversation, returning to us in trousers and open shirt. He sat down at our side, dropping Horatio's breeches next to him, and holding my chemise out to me.

Horatio smiled at my confusion, both at the clothing and the implication of their nakedness when I arrived, and gestured me to slide into my chemise, helping to tug it over my head. "Anne, Archie and I have been sailing mates, and dear, dear friends for a long time. Sometimes we do... give each other pleasure, and we do love each other. But that does not take away from what I feel for you."

Archie now chimed in. "Just as what he feels for you, Anne, does not take from me."

I shook my head. This was not rational, at least so far as I had ever known. But then, who could I have asked other than Horatio and Archie? "But... how can this be?"

Archie sighed. "Anne, there are many kinds of love, and many people whom we can love. What you and I have is very different than what you and Horatio have, or what Horatio and I have." I tied the neck of my chemise, and Archie helped me into my gown, buttoning up the back efficiently. I realized then that he must be very accustomed to helping women dress... and wondered just how much of his life he hadn't shared with us.

Horatio took up the tale as he thrust his legs into his breeches, and tugged them up his hips. "There is the physical comfort between dear friends that we may share, as we three just did... I know that Melissa and Claudette have told you about that - you told me so yourself."

I was doubtful, and of mixed feelings regarding having all of us dressed, although I knew that it was the most... responsible... choice to make. I wanted to look long on their beautiful bodies, but the less skin I could see, the more my brain could concentrate. "I find that they haven't told me much, although I had certainly thought they did. But it is plain that it was just enough to make me unsure..."

"And it still doesn't tell you why Horatio was with you and then with me, and then with us?" Archie smiled.

"Yes. I don't understand how you can move between us like that, Horatio." He had moved toward the day cabin as Archie and I spoke.

He returned from finding his shirt, and ducked his head to slide into it while sitting next to me on the cot again. "I don't really know either, but I do know that while I love Archie and enjoy sharing physical pleasures with him, I also have strong - and perhaps lasting feelings for you as well. And what we shared was... so different than what I have shared with Archie, or with... other women. I didn't know what to do about it. I still don't know what to do about it." His voice slowed, and the pitch dropped... pain? Confusion? He could not meet my eyes, and rose to pace the cabin. "Anne - Lady Anne, I do not know what I feel for you. I wish I did, for then I might be able to deal with it, and to go on with what needs to be done. Yes, I do love Archie. I also love you. But as I told you, I do not have experience with women such as you. I know what my body wants, but I also know what I may not have, and I fear I cannot keep them separate if we are together again."

"Horatio... it was I that did not keep things separate," I cried. "Not you!" and I reached to take his hands in mine.

"But I don't know if I could prevent that another time, much as I would wish not to," he sighed and sat heavily on the cot again. "And it is so damnable hard to be with you, and yet to not be with you. Anne, what *will* we do if you are with child? I know you say you are not, but how can you know this?" His voice broke, as he held both my hands, and Archie stroked his back slowly.

"I just know this Horatio. I don't know how I know, but I do, and we will both know if I am correct or not before we reach Portsmouth." I was desperate to convince him of the truth of my knowledge, to try to find some way to ease his fears.

"And even if you are not, what will it do to your chances to make the kind of marriage your family wishes? What man..." and he stopped there, probably wisely, given my recent tempers.

I sighed. "Horatio, we have been over this before. My answer does not change."

"No," he said, sadly, "but you are 17. Archie, do you remember on the *Justinian*, when we were 17? How badly I wanted to die because of the torment... and yet, now and for at least 6 years, I have not felt that way." Archie shuddered, resting his cheek on Horatio's shoulder, and Horatio reached back to clasp Archie's hand for a moment. "Anne, I believe you when you say it shall not matter. But at a later time - note, I do not say 'when you are older,' dear - things may be different."

"Then, Horatio, do you wish me to remain in the cabin other than short walks about the deck? I will, if you wish it. I have harmed you in ways that I never intended..." I could think of nothing but finding some way to atone for my actions. I could not even think of how such atonement might seem to others, but must blindly offer sacrifice.

Then Horatio broke in angrily, flinging my hands from his. "*You* have harmed *me*? How? By giving me what I desired? What I taught you to want from the first time I took your lips with mine? For all my fine promises, *I* harmed *you*. I took your maidenhood, and then I punished you and your friends. Then, not content with that, I have introduced you to yet more... depravity that may affect the rest of your life. And now you *still* want me to spend time with you, paying court and playing the dandy? How can you possibly trust me, or bear the sight of me?"

I was speechless. That he had misinterpreted how I felt about everything, that he felt responsible for the choices I had made, that he could not see how his companionship was so different from "paying court and playing the dandy," how could it be? How could I make him see this, if what I had said and offered before did not? How could this pain be brought to a end for all of us?

 "Do you two perhaps think you have punished each other enough?" interjected Archie. "And perhaps the rest of us as well? You have choices to make. So make them. Horatio, you can expel Anne to the cabin and wardroom, and not have to see her. Anne, you can weep and sulk, and cast a cloud over the remainder of our journey. Or, you can both act as adults, and find a way to live with the choices you have made."

I turned and looked at him. This firm, reasonable tone was unlike either the cheery, enthusiastic Archie I knew, or the shy and retiring Archie I knew. Horatio too looked long and hard at Archie. Somehow, I don't think either of us had expected Archie to take the lead for us. But I was relieved that he had, for I do not think Horatio and I could have found our way out of the maze our emotions had tumbled into without assistance.

"Archie," I breathed, "How would we do this?"

He swallowed hard. This was not something he was comfortable with, but he must have cared enough for Horatio, and perhaps me, to try to help us as best he could. And from Archie, his best was always very good indeed. "It is not easy, but I have learned that when life pains you, you must keep on going. Sail through it, as though it were fog." Horatio reached out a hand to clasp Archie's - both giving and receiving support. "Sailors I have met who have been to India have told me a tale of apples cut in two by the gods, and scattered all over the world to seek their other half: their mate. But if they find each other in the wrong life, they must go back and try again. If such tales are true, you are two halves of the same apple, but this is not the life you can have together. So take heart: you know that you have a perfect mate, and that at some time, in some life if the Hindi are correct, you will be together. For now, enjoy - and accept - what there is." He blushed a little at this long speech, and Horatio covered their hands with his other hand.

"Yes, Archie. You're right, damn you," said Horatio.

"Yes," I agreed, "although this fog will be more tricky than most found on the ocean, I fear."

"Well," said Horatio, "How - or where - do we begin?" Always ready to do *something* rather than nothing was my love.

"First," I counted off, "We must find a way to exist together aboard ship for the remainder of the journey. Horatio, I would not have hurt you. But I think that if we take care to never see each other, never be together whether alone or with others, we shall hurt ourselves more than if we learn to be together and grateful for what we have."

Horatio nodded, and moved one of his hands to take mine, while I grasped Archie's other hand as well. Now the three of us were linked by hands as well as love.

"You're right, Anne," he said, nodding his head ruefully. "But that certainly won't make things any easier. It is hard enough to see you and then to not carry you into the cabin to lie with me, but it would be even more painful to have you, to be with you now, and then lose you when we arrive in Portsmouth."

"I know. I can't tell which I hope more: that we arrive soon and cut short this pain, or that we comandeer the *Enchante* and sail away to be together!" I laughed a little, as did they at this weak sally.

Archie, too, smiled at us. "But what can both of you do for the remainder of this voyage? And what can the rest of us do to help?"

"Oh, Archie, if I only knew the answer to that - or had known that an answer would be needed! - I would not have begun this coil in the first place," I smiled at him, seeing the love and concern for both Horatio and I in his eyes. "But both of you... please... I love you both, and I would not have missed this chance to be with you if given the choice. Thank you, both of you," and I raised their hands to my mouth, and kissed them.

"I accept that... it will be necessary... to keep our clothing on," said Horatio, dropping his forehead to my shoulder and then peering up sideways at me with a wry grin as Archie stifled a chuckle, "but Anne, as much as I am enthralled by your person, I enjoy *you* at least as much. And the enjoyment of being with Archie and Melissa and Claudette as well - oh, I have missed your company terribly. Please let me come back."

"I must. Even if I didn't wish to, I could not gainsay Melissa, Claudette, and Archie. But, gentlemen, I *still* wish to know what was going on here before I came in!" And they chuckled, and pulled me over into a snuggling heap on the wide cot, kissing and hugging our loves as they explained very carefully, including demonstrations, what had occurred earlier in the day. So of course, our resolution to remain clothed was immediately bypassed, although all three of us were once again careful to avoid the final act. But this time, the passion and heat were muted and comfortable, and although I missed the intensity of our earlier feelings, I knew that such intensity could not last in the outside world, and this banked flame at least had a chance to, even if we were not to be together again. And of course, these explanations and demonstrations took so long, that it was rising dawn when I slipped down the companionway to the cabin once more.

Chapter XV

Realizations

I was awakened far too early the next morning through being tipped from my hammock by my friends... of the female persuasion. Melissa and Claudette, of course, wanted to know what had occurred the previous evening and I gave them a highly expurgated version as we dressed: Archie and Horatio were discussing the same issue we three had been, and after I arrived, Horatio, Archie and I all continued our discussion until things were resolved which took an exceedingly long time. It was so late upon my return, that I went to bed quietly rather than disturb their slumber.

I'm not sure they believed me entirely: when I peered into the mirror to wash my face and comb my hair, my lips were swollen and seemed almost bruised, and there was a mark... not quite a bruise, not quite anything else, on my shoulder which showed clear teeth marks (hmmm... I didn't recall that occurring... I should have to discuss it with the captains and learn how to mark in that way myself!). Then too, when we arrived on the quarter-deck, Horatio and Archie appeared in much the same condition as I, as well as happily fatigued - almost (almost?!?) sated. But Melissa and Claudette were reassured of the ultimate outcome by the friendly greetings we exchanged, back to hugs and kisses for all.

Why did I not tell them the entire story? How could I? Perhaps if it had occurred earlier in the voyage I might have. But now... so close to the end of the journey, and with the agreement that we would "all keep our clothing on," (spoilt as it already was, and as I confess I hoped it would be again), it seemed to me that it might be - well - rude. "Guess what I got to do with Archie and Horatio, and you didn't and won't," that sort of thing. Besides, it was too precious: sharing what Horatio and Archie shared, becoming a part of their life, and I couldn't give up that gift, selfish though it might seem, and tempting though it was to indicate I might now have more carnal knowledge than they. No, it was enough that Horatio, Archie and I knew what had occurred, and that we five were again able to be with each other without such pain.

The morning passed quickly away (of course, helped by the fact that we had slept a little later than usual that day) with our usual occupations, and then it was noon: that time when in the navy the calendar changes and all progress is noted and measured. We had frequently joined Horatio and Archie for this activity, and did so today, wondering how our voyage was progressing.

When the log was calculated that day, it was apparent that we would have at most another two days at sea unless something unprecedented on this voyage... a huge storm, another mutiny, privateers, something... something... drastic! ... occurred as a reprieve. How strange... how happy and excited we had been to remove to England at the beginning, and then how relieved and comforted to be with Horatio and Archie after they rescued us, but still thinking of our new lives, and now... now to wish to never leave this ship, full with humanity and stinking of it at times, lacking privacy and good food... oh, but full with our friends, and my loves... How could I feel both so excited and yet so dread our imminent landfall? And was I the only one feeling thus?

    I could not ask. But I reached out to clutch Melissa's hand in both of mine, as Claudette was doing on her other side, and the looks we gave each other suggested that we all three felt something the same. My gaze travelled to Horatio's, and I saw him too struggling with both exhilaration and distress... of course, he would be moving to a "ship of the line" upon our arrival, and must be imagining great deeds for himself. Archie? Archie's face was more difficult to read, not unusual I suppose, in one who has learned to cover himself with an impression of cheer, but he must have interpreted the rest of ours accurately, as he moved in to clap Horatio on the shoulder and cup my elbow.

"Well, so our merry band moves closer to England? What now? Shall we allow the crew an evening of entertainment in celebration? Or perhaps a celebratory dinner with the best left in our stocks? What say you all?"

I turned on him with a sharp retort for his levity, and then saw that the look behind his eyes was the same as in ours, and moved my hand from Melissa's to squeeze his shoulder briefly. Claudette, however, had been successfully distracted by his comments. "Archie? What do you mean, 'entertainment?' Do you mean like the race in Jamaica? Or something else?"

He grinned, and said, "Why, almost whatever can be imagined." Horatio stifled a snort, and rolled his eyes. Yes, that might be dangerous, if we combined what we five could imagine, and I giggled at the thought. "If we announce that the watches will compete against each other in some contest, and then those who do not win the contest itself will entertain the others that evening as their forfeit, all the men of the crew will be happy with their demonstration of skills. You will be amazed at what they can show to us," and again Horatio rolled his eyes, but now he too was grinning and recalling some sea-going exhibitions he had seen, "and how they will enjoy parading their abilities."

"It is true," said Horatio, "that the English seaman will expend more effort in being noticed than in almost any other task - and especially I think they would enjoy showing off their talents to you ladies: a thing denied to them most times by virtue of the common dearth of young ladies aboard warships. So what say you - shall we indulge them in honor of our safe voyage?" Oh, the glossing over of our fears... but then, it was probably the best way, I had to admit, of ending the voyage on a cheerful note.

"But what will you have them demonstrate," I wondered. "A relay race up the mainmast, as we saw before?"

"We could that," replied Archie, or perhaps a longer race... up and down the foremast, mainmast, and mizzenmast, with everyone in each watch participating - even those who do not usually go aloft. That makes it more a matter of chance: which watch can get their slower members up and down fastest? What do you think, Horatio?"

"I think that first, we must see that they *are* divided into watches," he laughed. "You may have forgotten Archie, but we've been rotating our men in and out so irregularly, it's a blessing they haven't had to fight anyone for I daresay none of them recalls his regular station at this point! Once we've done that, we can see what we think will be the most sporting choice. I confess, I'm somewhat concerned for some of the *Enchante*'s crew that doesn't climb well... I would hate for one of them to fatigue and fall from the yards. Perhaps we should keep it to a single mast race, just to be safe." And with that, they moved from us to sort through the crewlist and ascertain just who was officially assigned to which watch in preparation.

Melissa, Claudette, and I went back to our hammock chairs on the quarter-deck, and sat quietly for some moments, then began to speak all at once. We laughed, and began again, confessing our mixed emotions regarding the end of the voyage. Once again, they asked me about the previous night, and once again I gave them my truncated version.

"Well," said Melissa, "Horatio looks at you differently now. There must be more, but if you do not wish to share..." and she looked at me sidelong, with lifted eyebrows and a small smile.

"Oh, that is not it," I shook my head. "Melissa, think you, we have talked before of how I feel about Horatio... you and Claudette have even encouraged me to pursue him, although we all know there can be no thought of marriage. Now that we have... found a means to part.... must there be more to tell?"

She had the grace to blush, and Claudette the sense to change the subject... although only as far as Archie, which was in truth little enough help to my nerves! But the moment passed, and after a time we moved to the rail to watch the remainder of the convoy. It was there that Horatio came to me, and requested my presence below.

"Lady Anne? Would you be good enough to accompany me to the hold to insure that we know which baggage is yours, and which is being held for Captain James' heirs?"

"Of course, Mr. Hornblower. Should I find... I don't know... boots, or perhaps an apron against dirt?" I asked, turning from the rail to face him.

"No, ma'am. You will be fine." And he gestured me ahead of him down the companionway and through the ship to the hold, where Richards was stationed as a sort of guard. We entered, and I had begun to move about, to see what baggage was where, when Horatio took my arm and pulled me hard against him, my back to his belly, kissing my neck and shoulder until I could turn in his arms to stretch up along him and greet his lips with mine.

"Ohhh, Horatio," I breathed, as I found that corner of his jaw with my mouth, and he responded with a muffled sound against my neck, his hands pulling my skirts up so that he could stroke my skin. I was not laggardly either: his vest and collar were unbuttoned, and my hands pulled his shirt from his trousers to sleek his muscles and pull him ever closer to me. Our lips met again, our tongues tasting of desire and heat, until we broke a little apart, almost sobbing for breath and leaning against the bulkhead for support.

"Oh, love," I said, "Is there not some way to make the voyage longer? Can we not... I don't know... find a leak? Sails to mend? What can slow us down, and give us more time together?"

He laughed weakly, turning so that his shoulders were supported by the bulkhead, and I was stretched out along him, intimately supported by his firm body. "I've tried to find a way... so far, I cannot." He nipped my ear, rubbed his cheek against my hair. "But Archie and I will keep trying until Captain Pellew leads us into port."

My hands found that bulge at his groin, and freed it to my touch. His hips rose, and his hands pushed lightly down on my shoulders. Gladly I knelt, bringing that warm cock to eye level, and feasting on the sight with my eyes. How beautiful... and yet, did I not love Horatio, how intimidating would it be! Such a massive beast, dark and firm, seeking entry to my body. Lacking the polished urbanity of Horatio's mind, but a primeval longing to be joined... my body had heard, and called back to him.

I took it in my mouth once again, delighting in the warmth and strength, and finding the slightly salty taste unique. Horatio moved his hips only slightly, rotating his cock in my mouth as he had his tongue, and my hands moved into his trousers to cup his balls - those fascinating appendages, milking them gently, until he spilled his seed into my mouth. I was not prepared for it, and jerked a little back with surprise, causing Horatio to laugh and lift me with an apology, telling me that he had responded the same way the first time... but he would not tell me with whom. Then he kissed me, and tasted himself from my mouth... and that was more arousing than I had thought it could be. Using his handkerchief I cleaned him, kissed him, and tucked him back into his trousers.

We were jointly buttoning the flap when Richards knocked at the door to find if we were still inside. I was surprised - I had forgotten he was outside, and from the flush on his face, I think Horatio must have also. Richards opened the door to find us standing apart composedly discussing one of the trunks, but I could see him sniff the air and know that my cheeks reddened. Could he have heard us? I hoped not!

We moved back up to the main deck, where Horatio bowed to me and returned to his duties. Melissa and Claudette were at the fo'csle leaning into the spray, and I went to join them. Melissa once again looked at me sideways, and said "Is there *now* something you wish to tell us, Anne?"

I shook my head, but I was smiling and contented, and only suggested that she think on it a bit. She must have already done so, for she gathered me into her arms and said, "Oh, Anne, I'm so pleased. How will you manage it, then, when we arrive?"

"Wait, Melissa. What do you think I meant?" I could not understand this... this joy.

"Why, Horatio has offered for you, hasn't he? Isn't that what you were doing?" Now Melissa seemed puzzled.

"No, Melissa, he hasn't and if he had, I would have to refuse him. You know this. You knew this when we set out. Nothing has changed in that."

"But then... what *were* you doing when you were gone from here?"

I blushed and looked down, and Claudette came to my rescue. "Melissa, really, is it not obvious? At least we may be pleased that Anne and Horatio can find some happiness. But how will you manage it when we arrive?"

"I don't know." I shrugged restlessly. "We have discussed it and discussed it, and can come to no conclusion. This... whatever we have now... is what we may have. And we will both have to find ways to live our lives apart. It might be different if we could wait for each other, or if we had met in later years - I know that Horatio will not remain poor and uninfluential for long, but I fear it will be too long for us. And I could not ask him to leave the sea, nor to be apart from him were we married. So this is it. When we arrive, it is over. And while I accept that, I will not give him up one minute sooner than I must." I lifted my head and looked fiercely at them, fists clenched yet again. I was becoming positively ferocious about Horatio!

Claudette moved in to slide an arm about my shoulders and soothe me as she had the night before, signalling Melissa to join in. "Is there aught that we may do to help, Anne? Would you like us to be with you, or to leave you alone? You have but to tell us, and we would gladly give you whatever you need."

I rested my head on her shoulder and smiled at her. "Thank you Claudette, and you too, Melissa. But I do not know. Right now, we seem to be carried along by events as a piece of cork on the sea. Wherever we end up, we make a decision at that moment. Oh, it is not the best way to run a life, but I... and I think Horatio too... prefer it to the alternative we have, which is to be apart now."

Melissa stroked my hair. "Anne, I envied what you and Horatio had found together. I know that while we enjoy Archie, it is not at all the same thing. But now... I am pleased that I do not love him in that way, nor he love me. I don't know how I could bear to part with him."

"It is not easy, but oh, the benefits... if I must marry someone, he will need to measure up to the standard set by our captains, and I fear it may be difficult to find a man who may do so. But after having known Horatio and Archie, and having seen Captain Pellew... I do not understand how women can marry for money or title, all the while knowing of their distaste for the man in question himself. Yes, one must marry in some degree to suit one's family needs, but to not also consider one's own needs... it rivals slavery in its disposition of our lives! I must simply keep looking for the man I will marry, and someday, if God is good, I will find him."

"Then you have more faith and strength than I," said Claudette ruefully. "I fear that, as soon as a tempting man with enough money to please Father appears on the scene, I will be married off, even though I would hope to find someone who would allow Melissa and I to be together often as well. But I know I could not stand up to my family and say 'No, not this one. That one and no other' as you will."

"I don't know that if the moment comes I will have that strength either," I admitted, "but at least I do know that my father has sent instructions that I am to have some amount of choice so long as the family expectations are met. That at least is a relief, for I have never met my uncle or my aunt, and know nothing of what - or who - they will consider appropriate."

"But what do you know of them," asked Melissa, curiously. "I thought you were going to your mother's sister."

"I am, but she has never visited Jamaica, and I of course have never visited England. I know that she is married to the Earl of Jarvis, and that they have no children but many nieces and nephews. And that is all that I know! I might as well be waiting to be marooned on an island for all I know about what my life will be like, and you should know that I am seriously considering trying to find a way to shipwreck us, for at least then I could be with friends."

They laughed, but I was only partly joking with them. They at least were going to grandparents whom they had met when they were young children, and while there was some concern over their grandparents expectations, at least there was something of a relationship there to build on. Too, living in the north of England, near the Scottish border, there was always the possibility that they would at times see Archie on his visits to his family. I knew that I would be in London... and knew that Horatio had never been there, and perhaps never would be. Now my earlier euphoria over Horatio's kisses and touches was dissipated... could I possibly have a refresher course with him? Well, maybe later, if I was very good (or perhaps, very bad)?

Archie approached from the quarter-deck to invite us to share dinner in the captains' cabin that evening when we could talk over the proposed entertainment by the crew. We accepted, and moved below decks to freshen up for the evening with our men.

The atmosphere in our cabin seemed to veer from nostalgic: this might be our last dinner together; to giddy: what entertainment could we plan, and how exciting would this be! It was difficult to dress, and difficult to think with such varying thoughts plunging in and out of our minds... was this, too, part of adulthood? Perhaps I would resign, and insist on remaining a child! But then I thought of Horatio... and Archie... and what I would certainly never find again if I were a child, and I led the way up to the captain's cabin.

For once, the day cabin was neat and orderly before we arrived. And Horatio and Archie stood there to receive us almost quivering with pride at their efforts... how like a pair of retriever pups who have just captured their master's prize goose! So we petted them, and made much of them, and contributed to their belief that they were paragons of men and officers. Such dear, dear boys (even though older than us, they seemed at times so much younger...)!

Dinner was bland and unexciting, but eating together, touching one another's arm or leg, a dropped kiss on a hand or shoulder, long quiet looks with deep heat rising... it was good that the door was open, both for propriety's sake, as well as to keep us all cool. We had sailed northeast toward England, but that night the sea and air were both warm, and our heated hearts contributed even more.

Horatio and Archie had sorted the crew into two actual, official watches that seemed fairly balanced in their numbers of able seamen and idlers, and had proposed the idea of a race to them before dinner. They seemed a little surprised that the original crew of the *Enchante* did not take more readily to the scheme, but once Matthews and Styles had explained how much fun it could be... and how much more liberal captains generally became with the rum and grog after good entertainment... they agreed to try it, and went off to plan how they would run the race. With the *Indy*'s men split between the two watches, I wondered how they would organize themselves: as Horatio had taught them, or by some other means, or would their organization fall apart? Well, I would simply have to wait until tomorrow to find out!

Following dinner we had a slight change in our usual program. Horatio rose from the table to go on watch, and took my hand to tug me along with him. Archie and the twins were left alone in the day cabin. I turned to look a question at Archie, then at Horatio, but he only smiled at me and closed the door behind us.

He smiled, and touched my cheek. "They want to say 'good bye,' Anne. Shall we let them do so in peace?"

"I don't know, Horatio. Perhaps we should bang on the door and shout for clothing?" I laughed up to him.

He shook his head and laughed a little. "And give poor Matthews an apoplectic fit? He complains that his ribs still hurt from... that night. No, we'll leave them in peace, and next watch, when I'm off, perhaps we'll have our chance."

We strolled up to the quarter-deck and stood at the taffrail for a while, watching the moon off the starboard quarter, and the phosphorescence of our wake in the dark. After a time, Horatio moved to the great wheel and released Matthews to go rest below deck with the other hands. I slid in between him and the wheel, feeling both the power of his body behind me, and the power of the sea tugging on the wheel as the breeze lifted my curls from my face.

"Anne, there is no one awake on deck but you and I," he said quietly. "And no one on the quarter-deck at all save you and I." I leaned back on his chest, draping my elbows over his arms. "Ummm," I agreed.

"Anne... if you do not wish... please do not... I am not sure..."

I turned to face him. "Horatio, what is it?"

"First, please turn back around." I did promptly, wondering what could possibly be so difficult for him to say, and not especially liking the possibilities my mind created.

"Anne, would you consider... a couple of days ago, you came up on deck... well,..." Ahhh, so that was it!

"Horatio, are you seriously asking me to come up on deck almost naked?" Well, now I knew why he wanted me to turn around! If his cheeks were anywise as red as mine... oh, but the thought of it...

His voice became low and husky, and he swallowed hard. "Yes. You wear altogether too many clothes for my peace of mind. Will you?" I could feel him set his feet apart, taking a stance against whatever I might throw at him.

"But would I be the only one in such a state?" I wondered, as I turned, kissed him quickly, and ducked under his arm and down the companionway to our cabin, although I could not believe that I was actually doing this! We had joked about Horatio calling out a wanton in me, but it must have been true. Could it also be that I had called out a wanton in him? Could men be wanton? Well, why not?

I hesitated for a moment after undressing, then put on the same cross-over bodice dress I had worn before, this time with no chemise, and went back up on deck. In for a penny, in for a pound, as I recall was my attitude. I found that Horatio was still fully dressed, and I refused to come into the half-light by the wheel until he removed his coat and vest and stood before me in his shirtsleeves. I confess that I would have liked his shirt off as well: one garment apiece seemed fair, but I did not wish to stretch the limits of our luck that far. Imagine - Captain Pellew learning that his protege and one of the ladies entrusted to his care had been found naked on deck, ignoring the ship one night!

Then I moved back into his arms at the wheel and attempted to keep my mind on helming the ship - a difficult task with Horatio wrapping his arms about my body, rubbing against my back, and kissing my neck and shoulders. And then his arms slid about me to cup my breasts, and I felt myself sag back against him. His hands pulled apart the front of my dress below the fastening, and stroked my body, heating all that the air cooled. I raised my arms to twine back around his neck and pull his head down to kiss my shoulder, murmuring encouragement and endearments, stroking all the warm flesh I could reach.

As should be obvious, with all of this activity, essentially no one was helming the ship and we began to fall off the wind. Horatio quickly grabbed the wheel, set us back on course, and we began to laugh at ourselves.

"Alright, Anne, so this was a poorly thought out idea," he admitted. "But you are so tempting... knowing there is only this one garment... holding you in the night air...do you think we can manage to behave for a while?"

"I don't know, Horatio. But I'm willing to try if you are, at least for a little while. How can you and Archie do so much on so little sleep? I'm exhausted from last night, and you both are blooming!"

"We're used to it - after a while of four hours on and four hours off, the body gets used to working with whatever sleep it gets and not worrying about the rest."

"Well, I'm not used to it and I'm falling asleep on my feet. But perhaps if we change places...?" And so we did. Horatio swung himself close into the wheel, with a superior grin on his face as if to imply that I could not break his concentration on the sea... and I determined that I most certainly would.

I wound my arms about his waist, kissing his back and ribs through the soft linen of his shirt, and stealthily pulling it from his trousers little by little. Eventually, I moved but a single finger inside his shirt to gently stroke his skin, and he gasped and threw his head back at the sensation. I could feel his skin flinch from that almost-but-not-quite tickle and moved my hands around to behind him, effectively pulling his shirt loose the remainder of the way. Now I slid my head into his shirt with him, kissing and sucking on the skin of his back, and he gasped yet again, reaching behind to pull my hips to his, and bucking his hips into mine. Once again, off we fell from the wind, and we laughed once more.

"Alright," I admitted, "so that wasn't a well thought out idea either. Poor us, Horatio, condemned to remain clothed forever!" Now we stood next to each other, clothing askew, each with an arm holding the other close and the other hand on the great wheel. It was restful, and comfortable, and I never wanted to leave, but I could feel my eyes closing in violation of my wishes and intent.

  I snuggled my head into his shoulder and yawned. "Horatio? I think I must go below and sleep. I don't know how much longer I can remain awake!"

"You could stay up here with me and sleep," he offered with that incredible grin which announced that he knew he was making an improper suggestion, and enjoyed it thoroughly.

"Now wouldn't that make a pretty sight for the crew in the morning: an almost naked girl curled up at the wheel!" I laughed at the thought.

"Oh, you never know. I think they'd probably enjoy it," he smirked at me.

I pushed at his shoulder ineffectively. "Oh, I'm sure that they would. But they're *not* going to see it. I'm going to bed, Horatio. Unfortunately, alone. Perhaps when Archie's on watch and the twins return, I'll be able to come back up to see you... for our good byes?" I felt my eyes darken, saw his do the same. He kissed me tenderly, almost reverently, and then I slipped below to our cabin.

Chapter XVI

Redux?

When I went below, I truly did intend to brush out my hair, to change into a clean (or relatively so) chemise, put away my things, and generally tidy up before sleeping. But I was too tired from several nights of not enough rest to do more than slip out of my dress and shoes, letting them drop where they may, and to fall across my hammock into a deep, dreaming sleep immediately.

Many times I know that we do not recall our dreams... my dreams of Horatio being an exception to that rule, for some uncomfortable reason. But tonight, I was astonished at the variety of my dreams, and at how clearly I have always recalled them all. Dream followed dream as I slept, each more fantastic than the last, as I changed in my mind from an eagle soaring easily over the *Indy* to a dolphin leading our convoy with joyand abandon, and thence to a haughty princess seated upon a gilt throne demanding subservience, until finally, in the last dream that I remember, I was a pampered cat resting on a silken cushion: being stroked from ears to tail by an indulgent owner. I recall stretching, and purring, and rolling to that hand, seeking more caresses and focusing only on the sensuous feelings rising from my body. They grew and grew, as I felt I grew and grew, until my skin could no longer contain all of my longing for some kind of completion. And then I awakened, to find warm, insistent lips at my breast and hands smoothing my body intimately.

"Wha..." I felt that I came partly awake, and was disoriented by the change back to a human. Was I still dreaming? Was it, perhaps, the mutiny still going on? Had we been... captured? But no, it was Horatio, who had crept quietly into the cabin where I slept alone, and was leaning over me as I slept... and now as I woke. His face so near to mine, the feel of his warm breath moving over my body... Could this still be a dream? It was so like the dreams I had had of Horatio before the mutiny... was I dreaming yet again? I didn't care: I simply wanted more, and so I twisted to bring myself closer to his mouth and hand, stretching up to find his lips again, still half asleep but filling ever more rapidly with hot desires.

"The twins are sleeping in our cabin, and Archie is on watch," he whispered against my lips. "He wore them out, I do believe." His mouth moved lower on me. "Do you care to come up on deck with us, or shall we stay here..." and his tongue flicked my nipple, cooling it with a breath before he kissed me gently.

I shuddered, and pulled his hip over onto me in the hammock as I plundered his mouth with my tongue and teeth, dragging his shirt from his trousers and grabbing for his flesh. I was not in the mood for this gentle but intimate affection: after my rest, I wanted... and I wanted *now* and I wanted much. But I discovered to my chagrin, and Horatio's surprise, that hammocks must not be made for this much activity as I overbalanced us: tipping us out onto the deck in a heap, which woke me the remainder of the way most suddenly. The loud thumping of our fall must have also awakened Miss Georgia, for almost immediately she knocked on the bulkhead, asking if we were alright. (We? How could she know about Horatio...? No, she must think Melissa and Claudette were here with me).

It was hard to stifle my giggles to respond to her, particularly with Horatio lying under me: fondling me and kissing my ribs, giving me that manic grin, but I managed to answer that I had fallen out of my hammock with a dream, (how true it was - in more ways than one!), and was fine although surprised. She offered to come over and assist me getting back into it, making sure that I was not injured, and I raised an inquiring eyebrow at Horatio who was panic-stricken for a moment, but I only thanked and refused her.

And then I turned in his arms and kissed him, and we lay on the deck with each other, kissing, caressing, and enjoying each other for some time, slowly removing the clothing from his body: exposing that ivory skin inch by inch, warming and kissing it, until at last Horatio lifted me up into my hammock, and carefully joined me in it.

It was dimmer here than it had been in the captain's cabin, or even in the hold. Only shadows and deeper shadows could be easily seen, and the small amount of sight caused our other senses to extend, filling all our knowledge and yet seeming to us so private and enclosed; so safe. The close space, pulling us together, fitting our bodies against each other, slowly and langorously sliding arms and legs around warm, smooth muscles... it was very different from our experiences in the captain's cabin, or the limited contact we had been able to find in our explorations. Rather than exploring with hands and mouths, taking in intense but limited knowledge of each others' bodies... this time it was as if our whole skin was exploring all at once. All the sensory knowledge of each other: the warmth, the length, the firmness and softness, the visions and smell... they seemed so different in these close quarters. I was somewhat concerned that our combined weight would pull the hooks supporting the hammock out of the bulkhead, (simply imagine Miss Georgia's response to that!) but Horatio laughed quietly into my hair, and said to not worry: that they would take the weight of he and Archie at once, so he would not worry about the weight of he and I.

Hmm, more food for thought - imagining Horatio and Archie stretched out together in a hammock... tangled together... unsure where one leaves off and the other begins... the movement of the ship with the waves delicately moving their bodies against each other... and my body melted yet again with desire for Horatio, and I began again to devour him with my mouth - discovering in this process the means of marking my love I had wondered about - until finally our hands and lips brought us each to that peak and left us quivering quietly in time with each other.

As I came back to reality, I found myself seized by an amusing thought: both Horatio and I prided ourselves on our strength of mind, our wills, our ability to live up to what was necessary, and yet, for the fourth time in the one short day after we had promised to keep our clothing on, here we were naked together. Oh, human vanity! Either we were hopelessly lost at sea in our estimation of our strength, or we were more powerful aphrodesiacs to each other than we had imagined!

I giggled softly into his chest, and he pulled me up along his length to kiss, and to ask after my laughter. When I told him, he too laughed, and I had to muffle him with my lips. (Onerous duty, to be sure).

"Oh, love," I sighed, "We have such good intentions, and yet we keep taking off our clothing! Whatever shall we do about this?"

He smiled at me with his voice, and admitted, "Do? Why, keep taking them off. There will be little enough time for us to enjoy what we may... and I will not pass it... or you... up until you ask me to. Would that we could stay this way!"

   "Ummm... there are uninhabited islands and atolls in the Indies, where it is always spring or summer... shall we capture the *Enchante* from Archie and return there to live naked with each other? We could feast on fresh-caught fish and fruits... juices..."

"Each other..." and again we touched and admired and loved. "Oh, love," he whispered, and I thrilled inside... I had called him 'love,' and admitted that I loved him, but he had not done so other than in the physical context with Archie. While I had always known that it would not matter to our outward lives if he did or did not love me, still it was a moment that melted my heart to hear the word from him, and I snuggled back into his arms, content to remain there for whatever time we had left.

Then he gently turned me over, and wrapped himself about me spoon-fashion and so we spent the remainder of the night in close contentment for the first and last time.

**************************** I do not know for how long we slept: with no light and no clock, time was meaningless for both of us. But at some point, I heard whispering in the cabin and my mind insisted that I must wake and listen, if only for reasons of self-preservation. (Could it be Miss Georgia? Having seen, would she insist that Horatio and I be married? Would I want that? In reality, since it would either leave me alone or take him from his sea?) But it was Archie, gently waking Horatio and attempting to pry us apart. I have since tried on more than one occasion to pry a favorite toy from a young, sleepy child, and that was much easier than what we put poor Archie through, I fear, tangled as we were together and unwilling as we were to part! But it was just before 4:00 AM, and soon the decks would be full of seamen and Horatio (and now Archie too! My poor reputation!) would be discovered leaving the cabin if we did not rise now.

Reluctantly, we disentangled from each other with many kisses and strokes, interspersed with more from Archie for each of us as we helped each other to dress, and then the three of us went up on deck where the twins were waiting: dressed, and at least partially awake as well.

But they were awake enough to note that Horatio and I had apparently been together through the night, and that naughty Melissa wiggled her eyebrows at me with questions that I would not answer, although she volunteered tales of their evening with Archie to me if I would but speak. I only laughed, and shook my head. I had always heard tales that "a gentleman never speaks of his enamorata," but apparently it didn't apply to ladies... or was it simply that we were not to have loves to discuss? Well, it was too late for that!

The morning passed almost uneventfully... Miss Georgia and Sarah came up for their daily walk along the decks, and Miss Georgia stopped to find how we three had slept last night... she commented that we must have rested poorly, as she could hear tossing and turning all night, and I felt my cheeks redden under Melissa's triumphant gaze. But it was passed over by Claudette with a laugh and jest about our eagerness to arrive in England, and they returned below.

"Well?" Melissa demanded, leaning forward. "Now you *have* to tell us, Anne. What happened?"

I shook my head. "Not what you are imagining. Horatio and I have... discovered... some of the same pleasures you have told me about. But we were not together all night. I tired and went below - alone - shortly after we left you following dinner. You, however, were in the cabin all night? Would you care to describe..." forgetting, of course, that she had already volunteered to trade tales.

  But thank heavens that now Claudette laughed, extending a hand to each of us. "Whether she cares to or not, *I* do not care to either say or hear. Please... are we at last all content? Are we all in charity with each other again? Can we simply be pleased for ourselves?" We agreed, and left the matter there, moving on to what we hoped would be safer topics of discussion.

We began to discuss the end of the journey... tomorrow sometime, perhaps even before luncheon we would arrive in Portsmouth. This was our last day of such freedom, and tonight we would have the entertainment of the crew after our meal. We could see that the crew were becoming steadily more excited with their impending safe return to Portsmouth. Perhaps we five were the only ones aboard not anxiously awaiting our arrival - or were we? Did we perhaps long to arrive as well?

A little before lunch we heard from Styles that we were expected to arrive in the afternoon tomorrow, if the winds were steady. For once, the man didn't look as though we were the finest ale he had ever seen - perhaps he was thinking about his woman (women? men? with Styles, one was never certain), and returning to her (or him, or them). He certainly didn't stay to chat, another thing we had become accustomed to over the voyage, and which made me feel vaguely uneasy as well. How could life have begun to revolve around these people so quickly?

After luncheon I began to feel slightly ill, and for perhaps the only time in my life I welcomed it. Yes, my courses came - before we reached Portsmouth - and I would be able to tell Horatio that his fears could be safely abandoned. I had very mixed feelings about being correct: I would so cherish a child of Horatio's, and yet I had to admit that we could not be together even if we did by some chance marry, and that a child of ours would need to have both parents, if only to deal with the stubbornness and curiousity I was sure it would inherit. My mind gyrated: relief that we would not be forced into a marriage that neither of us could remain happily in, sorrow that we had not created a child who would look like Horatio, annoyance at the difficulty of dealing with it at sea yet again. Horatio was not on deck, so I approached him in the day cabin and watched his face move through the same sequence of emotions mine had. He made no response with his voice, but closed his eyes as if in pain or ecstasy, and I silently returned to the seats on the quarter-deck with Melissa and Claudette, there perhaps to mourn, or perhaps to celebrate.

It was hard for the three of us to retrain our habits of thought as we sat in our hammock chairs - a little over five weeks total at sea, in close company, and then three of those having been with Horatio and Archie. Melissa and Claudette said they felt the same tugs: that it was so difficult to now concentrate on being in England, meeting our family members, having space to move and privacy, actively seeking new lives, actively missing Horatio and Archie... I accomplished little that afternoon of needlework or reading, but spent it lost in thought, as did Claudette and Melissa.

I do not know what Archie and Horatio thought or felt about our journey's end at that time, as we saw but little of either of them on that day: there being so many duties to be carried out with now so little time. But at least they would both now wave a hand at us, or smile as they went by, unlike those earlier days of pain. I don't know. I have thought on it long, and have never been able to determine if there were a better way to handle things, or if it was simply ordained from the day the *Indy* anchored in Jamaica that all of these things should occur. Perhaps things would have ended differently if we had had more time to prepare for the ending, but then, I sometimes feel that we were all grasshoppers on that voyage: none to be the sober, stable ant stockpiling necessities, and preparing for the future until it was sitting on the bowsprit, staring with gleeful malice into our faces.

Although I know that most of the events of this tale have been due to my... impatience (to use a polite word) with the strictures my culture placed on emotions and their demonstration, now I became glad of them for they had taught me to hide my feelings and to give a superficial impression of content. How I needed to do that - and how much more difficult it was than it had ever before been! Still, we managed to give a creditable performance of amiability during dinner, and were truly entertained by the starboard watch's display of speed and agility up the mainmast. Occasionally, I did catch Matthews or Oldroyd (hmm... becoming more perceptive, perhaps?) looking at the five of us with curiousity, but they did not approach us. The port, or larboard watch, took some time to recover from their exertions, but then put on a rousing hornpipe for us to watch, and invited us to join in. Horatio and Archie appeared to be familiar with the steps and hopping, but we three were not and required coaching from the crew.

It was a pleasant way to spend the evening, not the least because it prevented us from spending it watching each other, dreaming of what had, and what might, occur. Also, it did serve to fatigue us, so that when the next watch bell was rung, we bade our hosts a good evening, and went below to our cabin. What other choice was there? What could we have said once the dancing was done? False cheeriness that we would surely all meet again? Protestations of undying love? Whatever way we turned and however we acted, we could not acknowledge the whole truth. No, better to end with bows and curtsies, gracious words, and lasting affection, although I could feel my body weep and ache with wanting Horatio... and Archie... and knowing that I never would have them again.

It would be our last night in that cabin. It had seemed so tiny when we boarded ship, and yet now after all this time, when we contemplated the packing and organizing that needed to be done, it seemed an insurmountable job. Even though we could see that there was much to do, it appeared that none of us could begin. To do so would have truly brought our magic voyage to an end, while at least procrastination allowed us to imagine that it could continue. And so we pushed at our things, and pulled at the ends of straps, and half-heartedly folded linens, passing ribbons and chiffons and feathers back and forth to their original owners without making much change in our readiness for the morrow. Finally we gave in, although much earlier than usual, and crawled into our hammocks to sleep.

I know that I did not sleep well that night, and I know (although we did not discuss it) that Melissa and Claudette did not sleep well that night, for all three of us tossed and turned throughout the darkness. (Would Miss Georgia comment on our restlessness on the morrow? I wondered). But none of us left our hammocks, and none of us discussed our sleeplessness either. Oh, if only we could turn those powers of ignoring that which distressed us to Portsmouth itself: if we insisted that we were still at sea, and acted as though we were, could it be so? Would we be able to remain in the world we had created? My thoughts ran on variations of this all through the night, complete with memories of Horatio and Archie that wracked my muscles and called me to go seeking their bed, but with no resolution. When the dawn finally came, we rose, dressed, and went on deck.

>From the topmast we could hear a sailor shouting "Land, ho!" and knew that we were in the final day of our voyage. Archie was on the quarterdeck, and greeted us with the news that the *Indy* had just signalled that we were to be in Portsmouth before dinner time. He suggested that we ready ourselves for landing while the convoy sailed along England's southern shore. There was nothing we could say or do but go below and acquiesce to the inevitable.

  Following breakfast, our maids brought heated water to our cabin, and we bathed as best we could in the cramped space: washing our hair, and searching for the neatest clothing still in our chests, having flat irons heated in the galley to press out the worst wrinkles. We could hear shouting and running above us, but with the excitement and joy of homecoming rather than the fear of during the mutiny. In those rare moments when I could meet Claudette and Melissa's eyes, I could see that they too felt torn over the end of the voyage, but either none of the three of us had the courage to voice our feelings, or perhaps we felt them too closely to share them. During the voyage I had felt that the three of us had almost become sisters, helping each other to dress and to style our hair, sharing ribbons. But now, as we worked to leave this home and family we had created, we each were solitary although sharing the space: as if invisible walls blocked us each to our own world of thought, and kept us separate from the others.

It was strange. Barely five weeks ago, I had never shared a room since out of the nursery, and could not tell Melissa and Claudette apart. I had not thought to leave my home, and had only just become aware of the beauty and power of a man. Now, in only five weeks... there is no way to describe the difference. It was as though I had become an entirely different person, with an entirely different life. It was terrifying - was this rapid change what adulthood was like? How, then, did so many survive the transition? What would happen in another five weeks? Would the changes be as abrupt after arrival? How could they not - and how could I survive it if they were?

Our chests were filled and locked, as were those of our maids and Miss Georgia and Sarah's when we began entry into the harbor in the late afternoon. All nine of us were on deck to watch the convoy arrive in England at last. Again I felt that need to be two separate people: this time, the person who couldn't see enough of England fast enough to satisfy her, and the person who could only catalog the ways that England was not like Jamaica, and therefore was an impossible and hated place to be.

I tried to distract myself by watching closely the workings of the port itself, as I had never seen such an industrious harbor in Jamaica. Such confusion - was it possible to remain focused on one thought, or must one be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of activity? I was astounded by the crowding of the port: full of naval vessels and convoys such as ours that were gaining or shedding their escort; bare masts and yards sprung everywhere, much as a forest of young trees in winter lacking their leaves. It was something of a forlorn sight, even with the excitement of comings and goings. And the stench - I was accustomed to ocean scents: the fresh, clean salt tang, and the sweet scents of growing things in Jamaica. I had even grown accustomed to the scents (sometimes unpleasant) of humanity crowed into one small ship. But in this close space, with all the manufactories and people crowded together, that salt tang had become something fetid and foul, and the only things growing seemed to be the piles of refuse. And yet, there was a vitality here: ships coming and going, hulks delivering stores to outgoing fleets; bumboats hawking spirits and fruits; officers being rowed in gigs to their ships.

That gave rise to a new thought: was Horatio's new ship here, waiting for him? Our convoy had arrived in excellent time, meeting Captain Pellew's best estimates of our travel speed; perhaps Horatio was early and would have to wait for whatever ship would be his? Or would he be leaving us as soon as we anchored? Once again, as when we embarked on this voyage, I watched him directing his men with quiet ease and (generally) firm control of himself and of them, and once again I was struck by his beauty - both physical and mental. My eyes continually sought him above us on the quarter deck, and I noted the tense energy of his muscles, the rigid control of his face that occasionally slipped momentarily. Could the possibility of his new ship being nigh be the cause of the suppressed excitement I could see in his spare movements and those flickers on his face? Once again I felt that tear in my heart as I knew we would no longer be together after just a few more short hours, and this time I sincerely doubted a reprieve in the form of joining Captain Pellew's convoy would keep us even within signal and glass range of each other.

The port master sent out signals instructing the *Indy* and the convoy regarding anchorages, and Horatio directed Matthews in locating our assigned anchorage. We moved up to the quarterdeck in an effort to avoid interfereing with the crew's work on the main deck. There were no spare glasses to be found for us passengers, as all those who owned one were using it to see if they were being met by family, or who was in port that they knew, or what signals Captain Pellew was sending for us. I felt useless and in the way as the crew rushed to bring us to our mooring and their home ashore, and I hated it.

I wanted to be a part of this arrival - to help bring the *Enchante* into its anchorage by hauling on the lines with the crew, I wanted to find who I was seeking ashore and begin... whatever my life would become, and I wanted to run and hide (preferably in the captain's cabin, on that nice, wide cot, and preferably with warm friends to hold me). I wanted to be home with my father and sisters, and I wanted to be on the road to London and the season of balls with my English family. Most of all, I wanted to be with Horatio, and I knew that was the least likely scenario of all to occur. Once again, as when we embarked, I found that I was at the rail of the quarterdeck, a little apart from the rest of my travelling companions. Cat looked over to find me, and her face was merry and gay with the thought of being ashore and in England at last. Melissa and Claudette were standing near to each other, whispering and chatting, while Miss Georgia and Sarah stood silently, with Jill at Sarah's elbow. Archie bounded past me, smiling as he tossed off a salute and leaped down the stairs to the main deck. He began directing the men to coil the ropes and set all aright on deck, so as to prepare to offload all of the cargo efficiently while Horatio directed others in furling the sails, and then completed the log books for Captain Pellew and for Captain James' heirs.

Once anchored, we had naught to do but wait. Oh, the crew was busy enough: rigging the hoist and making ready to transfer our belongings to lighters that would carry them to the shore, beginning to offload the cargo that was already consigned to others, attempting to find their families and friends in the crowds that even without a glass we could see beginning to grow on the quay, striving to purchase liquor from the bumboats that snuck up on the *Enchante*'s bow and stern.

Horatio requested me to come below to assist in determining in what order the chests should be taken from our cabins and sent ashore. Although this seemed like a specious request (after all, what did we care about the order, as long as all made it ashore in good condition?), I gladly followed him and found myself silently pulled into his arms as soon as we were in the lea of shelter the open door afforded us. Yes, it was a farewell of sorts: final kisses, final touches, attempting to remain quiet and quick while reveling in our nearness. When at last we pulled apart a little, I had to laugh through tears: my freshly ironed dress was rumpled and askew, Horatio's vest and cravat were undone, and his shirt wholly pulled out of his waistband. If anyone had looked into the cabin, there would have been no question of our activities. Horatio's eyes on mine were sad, although he pushed his mouth into a form of smile before releasing me entirely so that we could straighten ourselves. Not for us today the intimacy of before: helping each other to dress, interspersing buttons with kisses, laughing and stroking. With no words spoken below decks, we separated to resume our public lives.

Shortly thereafter, Horatio was signalled by Captain Pellew to return to the *Indy*, and the "imperative" signal was flown to emphasize this. He was rowed over immediately, with merely a nod to each of us as he went out the entry port, although I have always thought that perhaps his eyes lingered a little on mine, and his mouth moved a little as he went over the side. But perhaps I simply soothe myself. I do not know, and doubt that I ever shall.

Archie, as our sole remaining captain, supervised all of the offloading, and yet found time to congratulate each of the crewmen, whether from the *Indy* or the original crew of the *Enchante* on our safe voyage. It was enlightening to watch this man care for his crew, even (or perhaps especially), those he had originally been sent to wrest control from. It gave me strength to see how he could accept these men, understanding their needs and strengths, and yet never giving the impression that there would be no reckoning for their actions. It showed some of the same quiet strength that Archie had demonstrated in the captain's cabin - when? only 2 days ago. And, having learned some small part of his pain and unsurety from our conversations, this sight was all the more impressive. I sighed to myself. I loved Horatio with a deep passion, but I loved Archie as well: as a dear, dear friend. And somehow, I knew that of the two of them, I would mourn the loss of Horatio more painfully, but I would recall Archie's shining example for far longer than I would mourn my loss. Perhaps Father was right after all: romance novels were dangerous food for the mind as they led their readers down a falsly bright lane of passion.

Chapter XVII

Commencement

Not long after, the port master signalled that coaches had arrived for the passengers on the *Enchante*, and we made ready to leave. I mentioned to Archie that I had not thought it part of the port master's duty to announce travel arrangements, and he grinned, shaking his head. "It isn't, and I daresay he is not best pleased by having to do so. But I'm sure that word of the events on this voyage has already gone ashore, and if he does not take whatever action he may to smooth the remainder of the trip for the Governor of Jamaica's daughter and her travelling companions, he will undoubtedly come to rue it later."

Melissa smiled back at him. "Then, perhaps we should leave post haste, and get out of his harbor and out of his way."

Archie smiled sadly, and nodded. "I shall miss... all of you," he said quietly. "I know that I also speak for Horatio in this. Fair winds, ladies, and following seas wherever you go."

We curtsied to our bold captain, and Archie kissed our hands, then told off a gig crew to row us to shore, where our trunks and chests had already been taken. Again we used the hoist and chair to move between the ship and the gig. It seemed as if this went quicker, and more smoothly this time than upon our embarkation, or was it just that I wanted to stay where I was and could not?

As the gig moved us toward the quay, and the *Enchante* grew smaller and smaller, I realized that there were no more farewells I would be able to say... Matthews and Styles, Richards and Jones, even the original crew... it would be as though I had never met any of them, as though that part of my life had never been except as a dream. Horatio was gone from me, and now I saw the wisdom of his analogy with a surgeon cutting off an infected limb: as much as it hurt to not see him, to have one more last moment in his arms (and one more, and one more, until in the end, there was no end), ultimately this quick break was undoubtedly the best way to handle it.

I prayed that his new ship was not yet in port, so that he would have time to say his farewells to the *Indy* with more peace and happiness than this leave-taking brought, and that soon he would again have mates and men at least close to the caliber of those he was leaving, for I knew he could never match what he had found on the *Indy*. And then I feared that we too: Melissa, Claudette, even Sarah, and I... that we would not find men the caliber of those we had known on the *Indy*, but would have to make our lives with inferior stuff. Such morbid speculation - and so terrifying! I had certainly physically left the *Enchante*, but perhaps no one would notice if I simply hid in the gig and returned to her? Perhaps if I took an oar and helped to row?

Of course, I did not, even though sorely tempted, and eventually we arrived on shore, where we were helped out of the gig and up the stairs by one of the seamen who had rowed us ashore. Captain Pellew was there awaiting us and I looked eagerly at his gig, hoping to see Horatio, but he was not there and I did not recognize the men of the *Indy*'s gig crew.

Captain Pellew escorted us up the steps of the quay to our families, bowing and kissing our hands, expressing his sorrow over our distressing journey and hoping that his men had, in some small way, helped to smooth our path to this point. I do not know if this speech was more for us, or for our families, nor was there any real way to reply to it. Instead, there were the coachmen from our families, calling out our names. We scarce had a moment to say our goodbyes to each other before we were borne off to their carriages and coaches for the journey to London - or wherever we were being taken. (I know - given 5 weeks at sea, the afternoon spent loitering on the deck, and then being rowed ashore, we had had plenty of time to say our good byes. But it does not seem to work that way in life, I have found).

I knew from my father that my aunt and her husband, Lord Jarvis, resided in London for much of the year, but Melissa and Claudette had confided that their grandparents spent much of their time in Cornwall, and we were not likely to see much of each other after this. Of Sarah's destination we knew naught, save that early in the voyage she had stated she would live in London herself. Well, only time would show where my friends... all of them... and I had landed, and it was time to move on.

My aunt's coachman, James, took me quickly back to her barouche to find her. I cried a little when I met her, for she so resembled my mother and I had not known of this before. How could my father not have told me... or had he not thought it important, or perhaps too important? I found my aunt to be a comfortable person, and she held me close, and did not inquire as to the voyage or its comforts (or even discomforts), for which I was grateful. How could I have explained the entire voyage? What could I say? What would she say? How strange to be concerned over what another would think, after weeks of freedom from strictures, and now I laughed through my tears! Rather than waiting, or seeking a local inn for the night, she instructed James to begin for home, as the trip would require almost a day in travel, particularly when starting so late on this day.

I slept much of the night away on our ride, leaning on my aunt's shoulder, being comforted by her presence and placidity. My dreams ran wild... placing me back in Jamaica as a child, hiding from the mutiny in our cabin, watching Horatio being rowed back to the *Indy* from the quarter deck of the *Enchante*, hearing Sarah's admission of knowledge of the plan... oh, I may have slept and dreamed, but rest did not come with it that night as it had not the night before, and I fear I was dull when we arrived at my aunt's townhouse.

I was fortunate, I suppose, in that my aunt and her husband, were pleased to have me with them. They treated me as they might a child of their own, although they had never been blessed with children, but were instead closely involved with their nieces and nephews. They moved in a moderate circle of society: they were not commonly at court and were not leaders of society, but still they had a wide circle of friends involved with all channels of power, something that I supposed must be true of all Earls. Particularly on that first day in London I was grateful for their consideration: I was shown to a large room, and encouraged to bathe slowly, and then sleep until I was ready to wake. I recall little of this, but Cat has told me how she was forbidden to do more than peep in to see if I was awake, and how I even left my dinner on the plate in favor of quiet rest.

When I did wake, late the next day, Cat came swiftly with my breakfast and to help me dress before finally meeting my aunt and uncle. They seemed amiable, and appeared excited at this opportunity to relive their Season and introduction through bringing me out into society, choosing to discuss that rather than the voyage. I acquiesced, although I fear it may have been because I remained dazed, and lacked comprehension of all the changes that had occurred in my life. Had my aunt announced that the family was removing to Paris by eagle in the morning, I believe I would have merely nodded pleasantly.

Some explanation was thought necessary for me regarding eligible suitors before being brought out into society, and I was a little surprised by the emphasis on titles and precedence in London. Although we of course honored them at home, there was (at least to my knowledge), very little rigidity about them in the islands. Fortunately, the rules themselves were little different than at home, although it appeared that in Jamaica we were somewhat looser regarding courtesy titles than in London: as I had no living mother and headed the household I was known as Lady Anne, rather than Miss Anne (which would have been more proper for a baron's daughter), but in London I would most definitely be Miss Anne. My uncle seemed almost apologetic about this, but it did not affect my spirits. A title was not me, but merely a label.

Plans were made to visit modistes and milliners the following day, and plans to call on their friends who also had marriageable daughters to be my friends. Again, I nodded absently, my mind back at Portsmouth: looking out over the harbor for the Indy, waiting for that shower that I had never yet really seen (although I had certainly received a close view of my heart's desire!), feeling a breeze and spray on my face. Fortunately, my aunt did not seem to note anything amiss in my responses, but noted that my entire wardrobe required assistance - her sense of fashion was truly more modern than was Father's, to my relief. It was not until our conversation was almost over that my aunt signalled to my uncle with her eyes that he must broach something... and of course it was the mutiny.

Captain Pellew had apparently sent messages to our families through a courier before our arrival at Portsmouth, and had thereby acquainted them with the bare facts of the event whilst also assuring them of our safety, and noting that we might be called as witnesses in Mr. Stone's trial. My face must have gone white, for my aunt moved to my side and patted my shoulder.

"Would you... tell us about it, dear?" she asked quietly.

I struggled to wake, and respond clearly. "There is not much to tell. It feels as though it happened before we even left home... so long ago."

"But we must be sure that you are... all right," she quietly insisted. "Your father will be concerned, and Captain Pellew urged us most strongly to be sure of your... safety... as soon as possible." My uncle had moved to the rear of the room, perhaps to avoid upsetting my "maidenly scruples."

"I am *fine*, as are Melissa and Claudette Smyth-Byrne, our maids, and Miss Georgia Everard." I sighed, and gave in to their concern. "The mate, Mr. Stone, had incited the crew through half-truths and intimations, and Captain James, while a nice man, was not strong enough or aware enough of his mate's activities to keep control of the ship. We three were able to hide in our cabin throughout the mutiny, blocking the walls with the sea-chests until we were rescued. Miss Georgia, Sarah, and Jill, Sarah's maid, were hidden in Miss Georgia's cabin, and the other maids and Cat were hidden in *their* cabin as well. If the mutiny had not been noticed so quickly by those on the *Indefatigable*, things might have ended very differently. But Ho- Mr. Hornblower and Mr. Kennedy restored discipline quickly and maintained it well during the remainder of the voyage. I felt safer with them than I frequently did at home." This last was, upon my honor, true, but not in the way that I'm sure my aunt and uncle interpreted it. "Other than that, I know little of what occured except for what Sarah Everard told us."

My uncle coughed, and my aunt frowned at him. "Well, I'm glad of that, dear. We'll be sure to let Captain Pellew know, and thank him for his assistance."

"Aunt? What are you not telling me?" I don't know how I knew that she had information that was not being shared, but her guilty face told me I was right.

"You have your mother's quick mind, don't you, Anne?" she smiled.

My uncle took up the tale. "I've been to our solicitor's already this morning to share our information with him. He had already been in contact with the Admiralty, and in turn informed me that Sarah is now to be known as Mrs. Stone, and has apparently chosen to marry the mate. This of course means that her information cannot be used against him in a trial."

I was aghast. Sarah, the arrogant, marrying "her Teddy?" Well, either she had well and truly lost her mind, or... could it be that I had not been the only one of us experiencing the joys of bedding? And perhaps she was not as fortunate as I... in more ways than one? My mind pondered the implications of all of this for a moment. "But what about Ar... Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Hornblower's testimony? Will that not suffice as to the incident?"

My uncle smiled at me. "Clear thinking, Anne. Yes, that is what is planned. I believe that their information will be sufficient, and that we will soon hear of the results. But in the meantime, you must become settled here. Come, change your things and we'll go for a drive in the park." Falling into remembered ways of acting calm and content rather than giving free rein to my emotions, I obeyed.

Things in the household ran smoothly, at least to outward appearances after that. Oh, I still wakened sore with longing for Horatio and Archie; I would still find myself drifting into a daydream of smooth skin and warm kisses; I found myself short-tempered with fops I met at friends' homes or in the park who imagined themselves strong because they carried a sword in case anyone ever dared challenge them. My aunt and uncle did not cease their vigilant concern over my possible condition until I had been with them for several weeks - my aunt finally confessed to me that they were concerned that we might have been violated during or after the mutiny, but been too innocent to know what danger we were in. I attempted to reassure her, smiling inwardly at the irony that their concern was unnecessary for the mutineers, but not for my actions.

Word came from the solicitors that Mr. Stone had been convicted of mutiny as well as murder and theft (of the *Enchante* from Captain James and his heirs), and he was hung, in Portsmouth. The crew were pressed, being able seamen, but were not otherwise penalized. Of Sarah we heard nothing, and in time the entire episode of the mutiny came to resemble a dark and scary dream preceding a wonderful one.

Letters were exchanged with home, boxes from fashionable shops arrived, new friends were made, and I heard from Melissa and Claudette that they would be attending the Season with their grandparents. By that time, I had met some of the other young women to be presented, as well as some of the young eligible men (and far too many fops, for whom I found I had no patience whatsoever). This was facilitated by the sheer amount of nieces and nephews both my aunt and uncle had to serve as my early escorts and friends until I met appropriate men and women who were unrelated to me. But their favorite nephews, (and soon mine as well), Kit and Reg, were not to be available as escorts for long it seemed.

Kit did escort me to my first ball, and it was quite a kindness in him to do so as his wife, Margaret, was increasing at their home in the country and I am certain that escorting a provincial daughter to a crush was not what he had looked forward to for his evening. But he was in town recruiting for his regiment, as he was newly promoted from Major in the army to Colonel, and so was available to support me on that night with both his person and his title. I found it easier to be with this mighty Earl of Edrington after we discovered that we both knew and cared for Horatio and Archie - it somehow made him seem more human, rather than the stiff aristocrat he had looked at our first meeting. Although the gleam in his eye when we talked of our mutual friends made me wonder just *how well* he knew them, and what he was inferring about me from this knowledge! Well, as long as he didn't discuss it with my uncle or his mother (whom I knew would share it with her brother), I would have to let it alone. But we did have an enjoyable evening, and Kit was solicitous enough to insure that I was introduced to those men he felt appropriate, and warned me off several others. I was touched by his concern, although also irritated at his assumption that it was needed.

Reg was a naval officer, having been newly made Leftenant and was kicking his heels at the Admiralty while awaiting posting to a ship. As a result, he was generally available in the evenings to serve as an escort for me, or to take me riding in the park in the afternoon. I enjoyed talking with him of the sea and parts of our voyage, and discovered through Reg, who loved both music and mathematics that the two are closely related: distances between notes, patterns in timing... all of those were mathematical concepts, and Horatio and I had never known it. Oh, think of the conversations we could have had... no, perhaps it is better to not think of that. Reg, in the meantime, divined that I had feelings for both of our captains, although not to what degree, and promised me that should he ever meet them, he would carry my greetings and thanks to them.

Shortly after my arrival in London the word came that he had been posted to Portsmouth: to the *Indy* as a very junior leftenant - perhaps even as Horatio's replacement (as though anyone ever could replace Horatio). And it was on the *Indy* that Reg came to know Archie, who had passed his Leftenant's exam after our arrival, making him just slightly senior to my cousin. It was through Reg, and Archie who occasionally enclosed letters with those from Reg and one time visited our home when on leave, that I initially attempted to follow Horatio's career after reaching England. I knew of his daring play in Santo Domingo with the Renown, and his swift promotion to Commander. But then there was the Peace of Amiens, when the *Indy* was one of few ships to remain crewed and on duty, and little news was received of Horatio for those two years. During that time, however, my life changed yet again.

Perhaps it was due to Reg and Kit, and my connection with Archie and Horatio, but I found that I always had a soft-spot in my heart for a military man. Therefore, when Kit brought a friend to my aunt's ball bringing me out into society, and introduced me to David as a Captain he was sorry to lose, I was willing to be pleased by this recommendation. And pleased I was. David was resigning his commission, I learned, to take up control of his newly inherited barony along the borders of Wales and England, and would now be known as Lord Wrexham, rather than Captain Griffith. We talked and danced, and I began to look for him at balls and receptions, as I believe he came to look for me. Over the months of the Season, we became friends, and perhaps more. We spoke of military matters and crops, politics and philosophy, and he expressed his pleasure at a woman who did not talk only of balls and gowns, while I too felt happiness with a man who would discuss matters of import with me, rather than simply going off with his friends.

Was he as beautiful, both inside and out, as Horatio? I do not know. By this time, after months of being away from him, how much of what I remembered of Horatio was real, and how much exaggerated? I do know that there came to be heat in David's eyes when he looked on me, and that my heart moved more quickly when he held me to dance than when others did, and that when he finally kissed me, there was again that swift melting I had felt before with my loves at sea. So I had found a man who met my family's requirements and mine, who wanted me, and whose kisses were drugging. But would anything come of it?

After a time, David spoke with my aunt and uncle about marriage. They gave their consent, provisional upon my giving my consent (thank God for my father's foresight!), and we talked about the possibility of a life together. I did feel a deep, quiet affection for David, and knew that we could be comfortable together. I also knew that, while his kisses were not as... stimulating... as Horatio's, they were rather close. Yes, I did tell him of Horatio before I consented to marry him. He did not reproach me, but told me he could understand such needs under such unsettled conditions. He did, however, stipulate that my life would never again become that unsettled, and I willingly agreed. Miss Georgia was right: forgiveness was more easy to obtain than permission would have been.

We married when I was 20, for David did not want it said that he took me from the school room, and made our home for the most part on Wrexham, our estate. We did travel to London for the season each year, and always enjoyed being with my family and David's old friends from the army. Too, we followed the exploits of our old friends in the Naval Chronicle, and made certain to meet with Archie whenever he was in port before his becoming a post Captain and being assigned to the dockyard upon Captain Harvey's retirement. After a time of living so close (on the same island, can one credit it?), and after many visits between our families, he and David actually became strong friends, and Archie stood godfather to our 3rd son. Of Horatio, we and Archie saw nothing, although we all read of his exploits often in the Naval Chronicle and later in the daily papers: his valor, his strategems to confound the French and Spanish, his supposed death in France and ultimate escape, and his eventual promotions, marriage to Lady Barbara, and raising to the peerage. Were it not that I had once known him, I could almost have believed those reports to be fiction: created to entertain the gullible. But then, Horatio always was larger than life could easily contain.

Our lives, David's and mine, began to run around our children, much as they would have in Jamaica although I know we were considered unusual in England. Our family grew to include three sons and one daughter over the years, though only the youngest is still at home, and that, perhaps, not for long. Our eldest son, John, serves as his father's bailiff in preparation for taking up the title someday and managing the estates. He has a lovely wife, and an even lovelier daughter who live in the manor with David and I, and fill it with laughter and love even when we are not at home.

Our second son, Christopher (but called Kit after his godfather), has of course entered the army and serves now as a Captain under his cousin, Colonel Edrington. At Kit's advice, his original commission was purchased for him, but his promotion to Captain was entirely on merit, which made us all very proud. He has not yet found himself a wife, but seems to spend much time in Hampshire at a friend's home when not on duty, and I wonder at the female attractions he may meet there, and when we shall meet them as well.

Our third son, Kennedy (after his godfather - Archie could never love the name "Archibald," it develops) but called Ken, of course entered the navy as a midshipman under my dear Archie's captaincy, and now after his transfer to a 1st rate ship, writes to us with tales of life in the East Indies as a newly promoted leftenant. He tells us of the charms of the merchant's daughters... and when he wishes to shock us (yes, he has something of Archie's wit and teasing in him), tells us of the veiled women of the East as well.

Joy, our daughter, is the youngest: born in 1811, and she came as something of a surprise to us after 3 strong sons. I was newly increasing with her when news first came from France that Horatio had been captured by the French, and was going to be tried as a spy who would almost certainly be killed for his part in the wars. I found myself deeply saddened by the news that he and his men were lost on their way to the trial, and were believed dead. David was much comfort to me during this time, as were Archie and Reg and Kit.

David even suggested that this child should be named "Horatio" after both my friend and the famous Admiral. As she was determined to be a girl however, we could not. Oh, I suppose we could have named her Horatia following Admiral Lord Nelson's example, but instead we chose to name her "Joy," as her birth followed immediately on the heels of Horatio's return from France and exoneration at the Courts Martial. Throughout her short life, all twenty years of it, she has lived up to that name and brought joy to all who know her. She is a beautiful child, in spirit and face, and intelligent while still loving fun. I suppose, therefore, that it should not have come as a surprise to me when my Kit brought home a new officer in the Guard to her first ball, and when this young Captain, Richard Hornblower, asked her to lead out the ball with him.

Sometimes, if one waits long enough, the circle comes all the way around, and I look forward to her reminiscences someday in the future when perhaps I shall tell her mine.

END

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