"And how does the day find you, my dear Sophie?" Stephen greeted her in the parlour of her lodgings. It was mid-morning and he had arrived to take the air with her. "The sea breeze is wondrous for those convalescing. It will do you a power of good! Come let us take a ride." Sophie put on her little wrap and bonnet and smiled sedately at the doctor who led her out to the front where he had a carriage waiting. "I thought a ride might be appropriate. We can take the coast road and perhaps find an inn for lunch?"

"Splendid, sir," Sophie agreed and he helped her up, covering her knees with a blanket and indicating to the driver to get on his way.

It was a bright early spring morning, daffodils waving graciously at the road side as they passed by and woody glades carpeted with the soft lavender of bluebells lining their route. They took the coast road out of the town, past tiny hamlets and newly enclosed farms, the Solent framing every view. Ships were plentiful, white sails flapping in the wind, like acres of clean washing strung out across a deep grey green lawn. The sea was choppy, as it always is in that narrow inlet, and the white crested waves seemed like frosting from the distance. Waves crashed on the rocks beneath, the wind buffeted their hair about; Sophie was grateful for her bonnet. Seagulls wheeled and dived, hovering and gliding on the cushions of air, screeching their last farewells to the wake of the departing vessels. In the distance, slightly misty in the haze, lay the Isle of Wight and then beyond the open sea. It was a majestic sight to watch those stately ships veer and lean against the wind to head out to parts unknown.

"You must love the sea, Stephen, you spend more of your life there than on the land!"

Stephen frowned and rubbed at the bridge of his nose as if he was wearing spectacles and they were pinching him. "Well, that is the strangest thing, my dear. I'm not sure that I really do. I am no natural seaman and as the years pass, I fear I do not really adjust any better to that little world. It is a harsh and unforgiving regime- even though that is not quite my problem with it.  Rather, I find that it is governed by rules that are hard and unbending and peppered with mindless traditions that serve no purpose but to reinforce the unwieldy hierarchy of power and control. I am a very cynical thinker by the standards of my world. Please forgive me if I presume too much on your tolerance..."

Sophie shook her head and smiled. "Not at all. I am much of that frame of mind myself. Tell me, Stephen...did I offend the Captain greatly the other day? I am not sure why he was so very angry at my presence- but he was insulting and I was quite unforgivably rude back."

He chuckled. "Jack has very fixed ideas of naval etiquette and he is also very unused to being crossed in anything- particularly in his Great Cabin. However, he knows he was abominably insulting in his remarks and, for my part, I do not blame you for answering him back so bravely. There are many men who would tremble in their breeches if the Captain launched his attack on them- never mind a gentle woman! But I must say this in his defence. One thing surprised me. Jack Aubrey is a thoughtless booby at times and opens his mouth where wise men would fear to tread, but he is usually courteous to a fault with women. All women. Of all walks of life- if you smoke my meaning. He likes women very much but he doesn't really pay them much mind. To him, they are like little dolls that he must pamper and play with, speak pretty words and reward with fripperies. He doesn't expect them to utter a coherent word or hold an opinion of their own. They might as well be children or pets. It surprised me that he forgot himself so singularly with you, my dear. I would like to take this opportunity to apologise on his behalf for his idiocy and the lack of respect directed at your person."

Sophie patted his arm; he looked so pained at his speech. It was clear that he was fond of Jack but also very sensible about his nature. "No harm done- I am tougher than I look! He is a difficult man, I'll warrant, but not without some appeal... I take it there is a Mrs. Aubrey?" Sophie sneaked that one in, rather pleased with herself for her dexterity at turning the topic.

"Good heavens, no! He is still a gay bachelor- which is why he is so singularly appealing to most ladies!" Stephen retorted.

"Not married then?" Sophie repeated softly and Stephen heard the implication behind her words. Women and Jack- even when he was being discourteous he appeared to attract them with quite the same ease as when he was pouring on the charm- or perhaps even more?

"...When I say not married, perhaps I should be more specific in my meaning. He is not yet married, I should have observed, but soon will be, we suppose. He is much attached to a Miss Williams of Foxdene and is about to make his proposal. There is little doubt that it will be accepted and we look forward to a June wedding..."

Stephen observed the slight frown that passed over Sophie's comely brow and felt somewhat guilty for his untruth. It was not exactly a lie, but it was far from certain that Jack was heading for the connubial bliss of the marriage bed. But such fabrication was for the best. Jack did not like the girl in the least and for her to carry some sort of affection for him would be pointless. And, moreover, Stephen himself was feeling very drawn to her and a little word in advance might just strengthen his case.

They dropped the subject of the Captain and settled back to enjoy the ride. The conversation was warm if rather stilted; Sophie was little skilled in this sort of polite and restrained social chit chat and Stephen himself was no womanizer. He contented himself with being in her presence and making the occasional observation about flora and fauna that caught his eye. Sophie listened attentively and made some comments but it was clear her interest in such things was little engaged. He searched for another topic.

"I was wondering, dear Sophie, if I might extend an invitation to you? There is a dinner at the home of a good friend of mine tomorrow evening and I would be honoured if you would attend as my guest. The hostess is a lady of some influence in the county and she may be of assistance to you. I also believe she would be most taken with you and a valuable friend in your unfortunate circumstances. Could I be so bold as to expect a positive answer to my request?"

Sophie was surprised. "Why, Stephen, that is most kind of you! But, I am afraid I feel a little nervous of the thought of attending a private occasion where I know no one..." She was trying to wriggle out of this invite, imagining that, should she attend on Stephen's arm, then that might give out some signal of which she wasn't fully aware.

"Well, my dear, you would know me, of course, and the Captain will be there, too- although that may not be a recommendation to you! My dear friend Diana Villiers, a most entertaining and spirited lady, is currently residing at Mapes Court with Mrs. Masterson, the hostess of the dinner, and she has already promised to take you under her wing. Do say you will come. It will be a most merry occasion and all the better for your presence..." Stephen appeared more animated at the thought than Sophie had yet seen him, more used to his laconic dry wit.

She made her mind up. "I would be delighted to accompany you but first I must ask you about a rather personal matter..." Stephen inclined his head sharply as if to give consent. "My landlady, dear Mrs. Trumpton, seemed to regard the arrangement between us as if it were of a....should I say romantic nature? She commented on her willingness to turn a blind eye to any assignations we might have planned in my rooms... I wondered then had I misconstrued in any way..."

"My dear young lady!" Stephen broke in. "I assure you that was never my intention! Oh, I know there are many men who would expect such arrangements to be implicit- but I am not such a scoundrel, despite my somewhat less impressive pedigree. Be assured that I meant no such thing, nor would I ever presume to regard you in that way, unless, of course...you wished me to regard you in that way..." He cleared his throat and looked out at the sea. "Perhaps when we are better acquainted you might find it more amenable to you to allow me to approach you in a more formal way and then I may be in a more suitable position to ask you as more than a friend...a suitor, even, if you like..."

He was very ill at ease and quite unable to explain himself succintly, blinking his eyes and licking his lips nervously all the while. Sophie's heart went out to him- he was such a good man. "I have only just met you, Stephen Maturin, and I do not know what the future will bring for us. But I will be delighted to be your dinner guest tomorrow and for the chance to get to know you better. Can that be enough for you in the meantime?"

Stephen blushed slightly and shifted his legs, turning his body to face her, taking her hand in his, gently. "Most assuredly Miss..."

"...Smithers. My surname is Smithers. I... remembered it," Sophie smiled softly and squeezed on his hand.

"Miss Smithers...thank you, so much....now, would you care for a spot of lunch?"

"I believe you were the victim of a rather unfortunate mishap in the city, Miss Smithers?" Arabella Masterson addressed Sophie as the ladies settled themselves in the parlour with cups of coffee while the men remained to pass the port and smoke cigars. This was the part of the evening that Sophie had dreaded most of all.

Until then, Stephen had been at her side all evening and she had sat demurely through the endless groaning courses of food, while the other guests stuffed themselves and drank copious amounts of wine. Although she had a healthy appetite for both food and alcohol, the gargantuan amounts these people ate stunned her. Soup, thick with cream and knobs of butter, served with great hunks of bread; fish swimming in rich sauces, boiled fowl, roast meats -great sides of beef and ham, served with mountains of sloppy vegetables and potatoes; game pies with deep suet crusts and dripping in lard and fat. Much of it turned her stomach brought up on low fat modern diet. Then came the desserts- foul spotted dick, heavy cream-swilled bread and butter pudding, trembling blancmanges and fruit fools, topped off with a groaning cheese board and a pyramid of fruit.

Picking delicately at her plate, eliciting several comments as to her state of health that she should have so little appetite, Sophie smiled shyly and said little, simply surveying her rather impressive surroundings. Mapes Court was a fairly modern building, a Georgian mansion set in a vast deer park built in the latest fashion with the proceeds, so it turned out, of her former husband's ventures into the slave trade. This made Sophie even more uncomfortable, as did the sight of the little African boy and girl who were flanking Arabella's seat at the head of the table dressed in flamboyant silk and turbaned headdresses. They had stood by her side all evening and their little eyes were drooping with exhaustion- they should have been in bed long ago.

The dining room was enormous - as large as a ballroon with high ceilings adorned with overdone artwork in the neo-Classical style of the period- nymphs and cherubs, heroes and mythical monsters. One wall was hung with mirrors that reflected the rich fabrics of the upholstery and the flocked golden wallpaper as well as the splendid garments of the guests. The bronze candelabra, sputtering with candles, cast a warm and soft glow on everyone and made the scene like a painting rather than an actual setting. It increased the strange bewilderment she had felt for days now since her crossing.

The long wall led out onto the gardens and the lake through tall French windows hung with velvet drapes. The night was cold and the curtains were drawn to keep out the spring chill. At the end of the room was a vast hearth with a roaring blast of a fire sending out its warmth. The fireplace was of marble, ornate and columned like a Greek temple in its façade; it carried beautiful ornaments on its shelf: a glass dome clock, several solid gold statues and porcelain figurines. Above it all a giant painting of Arabella, her late husband and her children with their pet dogs announced their proud self-image to the world. They were new money - but they intended to live as old.

Conversation sparkled around the dining table: clever gentleman, witty women, fascinating insights into the full-blooded language of the day and their love of ridicule and the bon mot. At the far end of the table sat Jack Aubrey, resplendent in what must be full dress uniform, a riot of gold braid and polished buttons, his golden hair now shining clean and pulled back neatly into an orderly queue. Sophie had eyed him up all night and noticed that he drank vast amounts, ate even more and, as the evening progressed, became more florid in the face and loose in his tongue. The stern captain she had met seemed quite a different man.

"'Pon my soul, sir, but if that ain't the very devil!" She heard his exclamation at one point but did not know to what he referred, only that he burst into a gale of loud laughter as did the people about him.

"Sir...you navy chaps strike me as in the Doldrums now that this war is over. What do you think of Amiens, hey, Aubrey?" One young, rather hawkish- looking, man addressed him from across the table.

"Mr. Adams, sir? Won't last. Never trust a Frenchie. We'll have their raggedy-arsed army running down The Mall if we turn our backs on them, mark my words!" Even Sophie wondered if a phrase like 'raggedy-arsed' was appropriate for an occasion such as this and she noticed the glances several people made, just as she observed the beautiful raven-haired woman sitting by him place a restraining hand lightly on his arm. She supposed that was Miss Williams.

"But a man such as yourself would be sure to think that war was preferable to peace. There'll be a long line of post captains confined to shore leave now with empty pockets and no hope of taking prizes. After all- that is the main attraction of your game, isn't it?" The young Mr. Adams smirked as he made his point and looked about the table for confirmation from the others. He was out to humiliate Jack for some reason. "I've always been of the opinion that this taking of ships was more important than doing your duty to your King and Country. War's bad for trade and that is bad for everybody- apart from naval officers, that is!" One portly gentleman shouted across in agreement.

Jack turned his bright blue eyes on the man and Sophie saw them narrow ominously. Stephen was also listening and muttered under his breath. "Here he goes- pray God Diana kicks him on the leg before he embarrasses himself again...!"

"Sir...I think you may misunderstand the nature of the Service. It is an honourable profession with two hundred years of tradition behind it. It is also a highly dangerous matter to fight a battle on the high seas. There is no room for error. There is no room for escape. A sailor has a respect for his enemy. We do not sink a ship lightly and prefer capture to bloodshed if we are able." Jack's reply was surprisingly mild and the table seemed to breathe an audible sigh of relief, having rather expected a duel to be the outcome.

"But surely, with due respect, that is a rather unlikely explanation from a man such as yourself who has killed and maimed and bombarded all his life. You wish to protect your enemy from drowning? Ha ha, sir! You take ships to line your pockets and that's the truth of it- there's not much difference between a man o'war and a pirate vessel when it comes down to it! Come, come, sir, we are not fools merely because we inhabit the land, d'ye know?" Adams' taunts continued as thought he had not noted the high colour rising in Jack's cheeks - or perhaps because he had?

Jack breathed out slowly and leant forward on the table, his large hands joined. "If I may tell a story of something that was once said to me by Lord Admiral Nelson himself? It may 'illuminate' your darkness in this matter, sir." Aubrey smiled a closed-lipped smile but his eyes remained cold, like glittering chips of ice against his face. Sophie could see the man of her former interview, on deck, eye to the glass and ready to launch his attack. "I had the privilege of serving, as a second lieutenant, under the admiral when he was still a mere captain during the battle of the Nile campaign. One night at dinner in his cabin, he lectured us on what was the function of a naval officer. I find that I am unable to put it more succinctly than the great man himself. And I quote:

"There are three things that a naval captain must constantly bear in mind." Jack jutted one finger belligerently across the table at his opponent, his deep voice rasping and gravelly. "First, you must implicitly obey orders without attempting to form an opinion of your own, respecting their propriety." He spat the words out. "Secondly, you must consider every man your enemy who speaks ill of your King." At this he glared across, as if a verbal attack on His Majesty's officer amounted to much the same thing. "...And thirdly, you must hate a Frenchman as you do the devil. Beyond that, the taking of a prize here and there to supplement the livelihoods of you and your men is of little consequence. It merely weakens the enemy's position and strengthens your own. What could be more appropriate for us all than that?"

Jack widened his eyes in satisfaction, dropped back in his seat and picked up his glass, quaffing the contents and holding it out to a footman for refilling. He seemed very pleased with himself, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and grinning over. The table erupted in approval at what they saw as a surprisingly dexterous avoidance of an insult (particularly surprising in the case of the volatile Aubrey) as well as enjoying his comment for its wit and anti-French sentiment. Sophie found herself smiling and somehow caught Jack's eye. He raised his glass to her and nodded with a roguish smile. She found herself blushing and simpering, in a manner quite alien to her nature.

...But now she was ensconced with the ladies in the parlour and the centre of attention, albeit unwillingly.

"I believe you were the victim of a rather unfortunate mishap in the town recently, Miss Smithers?"

Sophie smiled shyly and admitted that she had indeed been.

"Oh, do tell us, Miss Smithers, DO!!" insisted one young lady in pale apple green muslin frock.

"Frances...perhaps Miss Smithers is somewhat importuned by the episode. After all, the circumstances were somewhat tawdry, were they not? I believe you found yourself assaulted on a rather dubious street in the dockside..." replied a pretty, pale-faced blonde woman with that curiously vapid English Rose expression. She was wearing a cream, high-breasted gown with a mauve silk ribbon framing her tiny cleavage. The two women appeared to be sisters. This time, Sophie picked up on the hidden affront behind the words. The blonde was implying what manner of woman would be on those particular streets anyway.

"I am afraid I cannot tell you much. All that I know is that Captain Aubrey found me there in a faint and carried me to his ship, where Dr. Maturin kindly rendered me assistance..." There was a titter of laughter from the audience, much waving of fans and gasps of amusement.

"...Imagine being in the Captain's arms! Worth fainting any day!" remarked one black haired woman, clad in a flamboyant red dress. She was rather brittle and her dark eyes gleamed wickedly. Sophie wondered who she was.

The beautiful woman whom Sophie took to be Miss Williams replied: "How fortunate that such a man was passing by at that moment. And that he should be the particular friend of a physician of Dr. Maturin's abilities? Why, you were most blessed in your champions, my dear!" But there was a touch of sarcasm in her words and Sophie gave her a sharp glance in reply.

"I assure you, Miss Williams, I am aware of my good fortune..."

"Miss Williams?" The woman answered in surprise. "I am not Miss Williams. Whatever gave you that notion, my dear? That is Miss Sophie Williams," and she indicated the pretty fair-haired maiden of the earlier comment.

Sophie blushed. "Forgive me, I just presumed that you were...you sat next to the Captain at dinner...I took that to mean you were his intended..." She remembered the hand on his arm and an earlier incident when she had observed this woman's arm slip down beneath the cloth and the Captain turn in surprise to look at her; his expression clearly suggested that her fingers were somewhere they shouldn't have been.

"The captain's intended- most certainly not! I am Mrs. Diana Villiers!  I think you are confused with the suit that the captain is making to Miss Sophie here. But it is far from settled, is it not, Cousin? I hear that Mr. Adams is appearing a much more likely prospect these days?"

It was Miss Williams' turn to blush. "Fie, Diana, but you are too, too cruel to embarrass me so. The captain is a fine man, as is Mr. Adams, but I am not sure I want either of them. If the truth were known I am not sure I really wish for marriage at all, apart from the security it brings. Men are such dreadful creatures, are they not? All hairy and noxious and with quite disturbing habits and desires!" The women laughed at her comment while Sophie Williams shivered with dismay at the thought of a man's touch.

"Ah, but they do have their moments, my dear. There is something to be said for a big man and his desires...gives a woman, a sense of...fulfilment, wouldn't you say?" Mrs. Masterson rolled her eyes at her friends. At that, the more 'experienced' ladies raised their fans or their gloved hands and giggled and sniggered while the younger maidens blushed and simpered at their sauciness.

Sophie observed them and decided to cast a twenty-first century eye over the proceedings. She reckoned this Villiers woman was a bit of a tart and was shagging Jack behind the girlfriend's back. Then there was, Miss Goody Two Shoes herself who was obviously a virgin and most likely frigid; she didn't look like she could melt butter between her thighs. If Jack Aubrey was wooing her he needed as much defrosting as he could get on his nights off- who could blame him for a bit of rumpy-pumpy with the bewitching Mrs. Villiers? Imagine the wedding night when Jack opened his breeches and let that monster out? Sophie Williams would need more than sal volatile to bring her round.

"Dr. Maturin tells me that you have lost your faculty of memory since this accident. What a terrible curse it must be not to know who you are or what manner of family you own. Why, there may some husband and children somewhere pining your loss - what a tragedy! But yet, there is another way of seeing this. How fortunate it might be for some women! To forget one's mistakes and present oneself as a pure new woman, untested by life..." Diana Villiers looked across at Sophie and her meaning was clear. She suspected that Miss Sophie Smithers was not all she seemed to be and was somehow unusually hostile towards her. Sophie wondered why? She had not even spoken to Jack Aubrey- so there was no reason for Mrs. Villiers to be jealous. Unless...unless...did she have an affection for the doctor, perhaps? Sophie was his guest tonight and it might appear that there was some liaison between them by the standards of this relatively decadent set. Stephen had called Mrs. Villiers his 'good friend'...what exactly did he mean by that? There were such cross currents swirling around this room that it made Sophie's head spin.

"If you will pardon me, my head is a little sore...I think I need some fresh air..." And with that Sophie left them to it, slipping out of the door and onto the terrace.

The night air was bracing, a chill March wind blowing in from the sea, and she shivered in the thin dress, wishing she had thought to ask a servant to bring her cloak. Her gown was a flimsy, light, rose-pink muslin sprigged with a flower pattern embroidery over an underskirt of fine lawn- the wrong dress entirely for such a night. The neckline was low, Empire-style, with its bodice drawn up to frame and highlight her breasts; it was uncomfortable as well as chilly. Sophie giggled to herself- in this wind she was really freezing her tits off- she could see her nipples peaked against the cold.

Mrs. Trumpton had aided her in arranging her hair- she had had to submit herself to sitting in hair rags all afternoon and later to the curling tongs, but even she had to admit that the tight curls, held by ribbons and tumbling around her face and neck were rather fetching. She felt more ladylike and womanly than any modern skimpy outfit had ever made her feel. But the breeze still blew her curls about and raised a high colour to her cheeks.

Sophie stood awhile with her arms wrapped about her for warmth and thought about the evening. She was a little perturbed by the bitchiness of the women in the parlour and imagined there was a hidden agenda here. Mrs. Villiers seemed to be a rather independent woman, obviously intimate with Jack, but possibly also enamoured of Stephen. Sophie Williams was a complete drip who couldn't see the difference between the magnificent Jack Aubrey and that weasel Adams, but was still rather tetchy at the appearance of any new woman to their circle. Of the others, Arabella Masterson was obviously a merchant's wife made good and no better than she ought to be. The other dark-haired woman was a lady on the make- an older beauty looking for a husband (or more like a lover) amongst the unattached gentlemen there. The only one who had seemed in any way pleasant had been Frances Williams, Sophie's plainer sister, but she was probably little over sixteen and still a child.

One thing was sure - and it surprised Sophie greatly. The image of these woman as frightened little mice who submitted themselves to sex for the sake of fulfilling their duties to their husbands was way off the mark; there were as many shades of moral behaviour and lifestyle here as in the twenty-first century. How interesting!

Just then, Sophie heard a noise on the terrace and she turned. Behind her, Jack Aubrey was leaning with his right arm raised against the lintel of the door, surveying her with hooded eyes and an unreadable expression on his face. To Sophie he looked like sex incarnate, like one of those stills from a film where the hero smoulders, his face unshaven, his hair long and unkempt, his package framed and bulging...you know, the 'pull in the women' shot so loved by promoters of a movie? Sophie stared and felt a slight flush steal over her flesh, just as she felt the first moisture between her legs as she took in the impressive and predatory sight before her.

Jack Aubrey had left the table some time earlier, to find a privy and ease his bladder after the pints of liquid he had been swilling all night. A servant had pointed out the room of ease but he declined and took himself off to the garden instead to relieve himself against an ornamental shrub, preferring to clear his head in the bracing air. With a deep sigh of contentment he let forth a stream of steaming fluid on the bush and absentmindedly sprayed on targets - a leaf here or a bud there.

An interesting evening, he mused to himself. That Adams fellow needed horsewhipping, of course, and he would be the one to do it if he opened his damned fool mouth once again. Jack wished he could give him a few months at the mast and he'd make a man of him- or at least have the pleasure of showing him what the Service really stood for. But he had kept his cool and this time avoided some ill-thought out blunder - or worse a duel. For that Jack was rather satisfied with himself. Not that he had any doubts who would be the victor in such a contest. But he felt that Sophie would not countenance him as a husband should he kill her only other suitor. Or perhaps she would? You could never tell with women.

He smiled to himself as he emptied his bladder, shook off his meaty cock, shuddered and then tucked himself away. His cock made him think of Diana. Perhaps he could linger until the other guests had taken their carriages and join her for a hot toddy in her rooms before she withdrew? And then withdraw with her, perchance? Mrs. Masterson wouldn't care a jot; he expected she would bed one of the men here tonight anyway.

His mind passed to Stephen. He felt a momentary twinge of guilt for his recent dalliance with Diana; Stephen's quiet infatuation for the lady was a poorly kept secret. However his conscience quickly rationalized it. Diana would not accept Stephen as a potential husband- he was of little fortune and even lower rank- and she admired him too much to trifle with his affections. It was not Jack's concern if Diana took her pleasure with him whilst she was prowling for a better match- their arrangement was convenient for all parties and was no affair of the heart. Stephen had no competition from him.

But perhaps Stephen had found himself a new love? It was high time that his friend took some casual pleasure from a woman- he was altogether too serious in his relationships with them. This mysterious Miss Smithers was quite a beauty now that he had seen her adorned in her finery and, whatever her dubious origins,  she seemed to be an intelligent and fiery woman. Remembering the unfortunate interlude in his cabin the other day, Jack felt a little abashed. He had been dreadfully harsh upon the poor girl and now, in his cups, with that typical sentimentality that is a feature of all strong men when they are drunk, he was brought almost to tears at the thought of how low he must have made her. Before the night was out he determined to make his apologies to her for his totally inappropriate outburst. Jack smiled to himself as he strolled back through the grounds to the house, well pleased with the way matters had turned out.

Passing from the garden into the house by a side door, his attention was caught by a person standing on the wide terrace to his left. He looked more closely and realised that it was the foundling, Miss Smithers, all alone on the terrace. What a piece of good fortune! He would make amends here and now and be done with it! Standing for a moment, leaning on the entrance, his balance a little unsteady and his vision slightly blurred, Captain Aubrey composed himself while taking a good look at this winsome girl.

She was lovely, quite lovely. Miss Smithers was tall and willowy, delicate as a lily, the sort of fragile woman that most speaks to a virile man such as himself. Her hair was chestnut brown with red lights gleaming and it was arranged most charmingly in the classical style. Her skin was pale, gleaming in the moonlight, but she had a robust, healthy sort of look - her slim frame was not caused by ill health or consumption but a natural feminine gift. The silvery light shone on her white shoulders and in profile he could see the swell of her fine bosoms, rather larger than one would expect of such a tiny frame. Jack sighed softly and felt his body respond to her. This woman was a singular flower of perfection.

At that moment she turned and stared openly at him, her lips parted in a slight "O!" of surprise. Unlike most women, she did not lower her eyes or flutter a fan, but instead Sophie Smithers met his gaze with an equally direct one of her own, as if she too were assessing his face and figure in much the same way that he had done to her. From the blush that stole over her white breasts and traveled up to her cheeks, he suspected that she liked what she saw. A sudden surge of lust warmed his vitals and, loosened by drink and the heady evening, he sauntered towards her with a swagger.

"Good evening, Miss Smithers...you are looking particularly charming tonight, if I may shay sho..." he cleared his throat, "Pardon me...say so." Jack lent on the marble parapet and tried to focus. For a moment there he had seen two Miss Smithers.

"Thank you, Captain Aubrey. You also brush up well yourself. Did you take my advice then?" She teased.

Jack looked down and had the decency to grin bashfully. "I deserved that, Miss Smithers. I was abominably rude to you the other day and I do not quite have the words to explain myself. There is indeed no excuse for a gentleman to make such accusations nor is there any circumstance when a man of honour should treat a woman as if she were a common foremost jack. I simply grovel at your feet, madam, and humbly beg your forbearance with this brute of a man..." At that Jack tried to kneel down but Sophie could see that he would get entangled in his dress sword- and she didn't fancy having to try and help him up. He'd squash her flat if he fell on her.

"Captain...please...there is no need!" At that Jack steadied himself and looked relieved. "I accept your apology and offer my own. I should not have entered your cabin and more importantly I should have shown more respect for your office than I did. I spoke out of turn and said things that scarce become a lady."

Jack nodded and Sophie tried a curtsey, bobbing down while he bowed slightly. This brought his eyes down and she saw him glance lustfully at her cleavage, his tongue momentarily jutting out between his lips. He was certainly a tit man. She observed him blink a few times and then she turned around to lean on the marble rail. Jack stepped closer until his thigh was pressed against her back. She felt a further stirring of desire at his proximity.

"You must be chilled to the bone in that little frock, my dear. Here let me stand in the lee of the wind and shelter you." Sophie wasn't fooled; she could tell that he was peering over her shoulder and weighing up her bosoms from a better vantage point. But, she wasn't exactly complaining. After all, what had she to lose? If this strange time travel trip was to end she would rather have had gone a few rounds with this big handsome stud than simply have polite memories of tea parties and rides along the coast.

"Actually I am rather cold, sir. Perhaps you could put your arms about me; you seem very warm to me..."

Jack made a low purr of approval at the suggestion and slipped his arms round her waist to lie on her midriff, just below her breastbone. He leaned on in and rested his chin on the tumbling curls of her hair. "Mmmmmmmmmmm," he muttered, clearly unaware of himself. Sophie knew he was pissed, could smell brandy and cigars off his breath but somehow his lack of control made her more, not less excited. She wriggled back against him and together they stood close looking out at the night.

His hands, at first joined, soon disengaged and she felt his thumbs steal up over her breasts and then his large palms cup and squeeze softly. "You have beautiful breasts, Sophie...a man could lose himself in them..." He pinched at her nipples through the thin fabric and she knew they were already peaked and that he would recognise the sign. His mouth dropped to the lobe of her ear where he nibbled, and then down to the soft flesh of her neck where he placed a sensuous kiss. Sophie writhed against him and felt her buttocks make contact with his growing hardness. She was panting now and beginning to panic. What next? Would he try it on out here?

"...Sophie...are you out here? It is far too cold without your...oh, Jack? Sophie?" Stephen's voice cut into their erotic moment; Jack jumped away and turned, shifting slightly and probably uncomfortable in his breeches. Sophie blushed and her hands flew to her hair to settle it down where the captain had mauled it.

"Stephen! Captain Aubrey was just....apologising..." Sophie added.

"Perhaps I had better return to the party. My pleasure, Miss Smithers. Thank you for your patience." Jack bowed, right hand resting on the hilt of his sword and the left dropping to attempt to disguise his hard on. Sophie didn't think either of them was fooled. Stephen leaned over to Jack and whispered in his ear. "You stay out here, you damned lecherous dog, and drink in the cold night air before you embarrass every lady here with your nonsense!"

Jack coughed uneasily and turned back to Sophie, gave a quick bow, his face pained as if he had suddenly realized that he had made a terrible faux pas and he took himself down the steps back into the garden.

"I am so sorry, Miss Smithers! I seem to be apologizing for my brother at every turn. First he is abominably rude and then he makes an improper move against your person. I really do not know what has become of him at late!"

Sophie smiled. "He was not rude. He was merely keeping me warm- but I think he became a little too heated, as it were. I expect it was the spirit and the grape driving him and he merely needs a good night's sleep to cool him down- although I suspect his head will be rather painful in the morning!"

Stephen led her back into the dining room and muttered, "It never does, my dear. He has the constitution of an ox. If he suffered more for his indulgences, then perhaps he might learn his lesson!" And with that they rejoined the others.

Sophie took a walk the next morning to clear her head and dream about Captain Aubrey. Near her lodgings there was a small gardens and it was there she went on this sunny spring morning to read and think.

Not long after she had settled down on a wooden bench, a small boy hurtled past dressed in some sort of uniform with a tall hat. He was carrying a bundle under his arm. Charging past, he skittered on one leg, hand on his hat and then ran back. "Beg, pardon ma'am, very pleased to see you looking so well!" He was an earnest little dark-haired boy- perhaps eleven or twelve years old, with a thick fringe and chocolate eyes, a rather wistful countenance.

"Do I know you, boy?"

"Peter Calamy, ma'am. I'm a midshipman on the Vincenjo. Under Captain Aubrey, ma'am!"

"Of course...I apologise, I was quite unaware the other day. I am very well and it was kind of you to stop and ask. Are you on the captain's business?"

"Yes, ma'am. Just bringing the mail. I have to run...have a pleasant day, ma'am!"

Off he pelted in the direction of the harbour. Sophie smiled. "What a nice lad!" Very young to be at sea but Jack must be good with the boys, if this lad is anything to judge by. Ah, Jack! The memory of his strong arms and brawny chest pressed against her and his warm wet kiss on her neck...his fingers caressing her breasts...

Near the harbour, Jack was just coming out of a chandler's yard with the master mariner, Mr.Allen, when he all but bumped into young Calamy.

"Mail, sir!"

"Mids should be seen to behave with propriety when about the town, boy. WALK!" Jack bellowed. "Take the mail to the ship. I am far too occupied here at the moment..."

"Captain, sir, begging your pardon but I just saw the lady, sir. She is looking marvelous recovered. I wished her well, sir!"

The boy turned to move on. "Wait! What lady, pray?"

"The lady with the broken head, sir."

"You saw Miss Smithers, Calamy? Where?"

"Is that her name, sir? Queen Anne Gardens, sir.  " 

"Mr. Allen...we will deal with the rest later...I am engaged at the present..." and with that he simply walked off, leaving his colleague scratching his head at the change of events.

Jack hurried along with various emotions bubbling in his chest. He knew that he had behaved like a cad the night before. His memory of the events on the terrace was hazy but he had been reliably informed by Stephen that he had actually placed his hands on young Miss Smithers' bosoms whilst under the influence of drink. Jack had no idea what Miss Smithers had said or done by way of a reply- although he could imagine what she might wish to say to him in the cold light of day. But he was man enough to submit himself to the inevitable tirade of which he already knew this lady was capable. He did not intend, however, to shirk his duties as a man of honour.

Jack had awoken that morning in his cot on the ship, unaware how he had actually arrived home from Mapes- but then that in itself was not an unusual occurrence; he was invariably carried home from such events by a few of his crew. A decent breakfast platter and a pot of strong coffee had revived him, as had a quick swim in the freezing waters of the Solent. At least he looked decent: his hair neatly tied and his second best scraper on. And so he made his way through the bustling streets of the town to face his Nemesis.

Sophie Smithers was perched on a bench in the gardens, staring off into space with an open book on her lap. Jack stopped and watched her as she twirled a curl round her fingers absentmindedly, her tiny ankle revealed as she rested one dainty knee atop of another in an unusually unladylike pose that somehow seemed to him all at once the epitome of femininity.

She was quite lovely, utterly lovely, as though all the beautiful things in the world, all the things that he had so rarely experienced in his life were there in this woman before him. It was an odd notion and he dismissed it as mere foolishness, but he could not quite shake a sense that Miss Smithers was different from anyone else that he had ever known.

Straightening his back and running a hand back through his hair to neaten it, he stepped forward apprehensively. When he was standing a few paces away, he cleared his throat and the young woman started violently.

"Ma'am?"

"OH! CAPTAIN!" her voice rose to a little squeal of surprise in a most charming manner, or so Jack thought.

He coughed again and rocked back on his heels, nervously rubbing his hands down his thighs. "Beg pardon, Miss Smithers, I did not mean to startle you there!"

Sophie panted a little breathily at the sight of him, the very man she had been thinking of- and her imaginings had been of a distinctly erotic nature. Here he stood before her, dressed smartly in his uniform but not as elegantly as the previous evening. He was slightly dishevelled and swarthy as if he almost needed a shave and she noticed a patch on the seam of his breeches as well as having a quick perve at the sweet swell of his pouch. It made her tremble to imagine how big he must be erect if he filled his pants like that when he wasn't. And that made her think again of the night before as he had rested himself against her back and cupped her breasts...

"...Please, don't apologise, sir! I was merely surprised because you were on my mind just then and then you appeared and it was such a shock!" She blushed a pretty crimson at that and he had a most improper thought about her bosoms as the colour spread down her skin.

"No doubt you were recalling my abominable behaviour of last night. Dear lady, I am here to apologise most humbly for my behaviour on our previous meetings. That day in my cabin, I was quite shamefully rude and I can offer no explanation..."

"...You apologised at some length already for that, sir. Last night."

"Ah. Just so. It had slipped my mind. If I may continue...?" he asked with a slight tilt of his head. Sophie loved it. He hated to be interrupted even from an apology. He had such a deliciously arrogant side to him! She nodded her head submissively. "As for yesterday at Mrs. Masterson's, I was...well...there is no other word for it...I was drunk, Madam. I had over-indulged. Imbibed too freely in the fine wines and was not behaving in my normal fashion. My behaviour was, in fact...boorish and unbecoming for a gentleman and an officer. I hardly know how to..."

"It isn't necessary to apologise, sir. You were lovely last night. Really dashing and handsome. I know you were a bit pis...a little overcome by the occasion but it was cute. I enjoyed it. It was rather romantic, actually in the moonlight..."

Jack frowned and pulled his lips into a pout. "Enjoyed it? I did not offend? But Dr. Maturin said..." at that he stopped, evidently unable to explain what the doctor had actually said: 'You had your hands all over her bosoms, you damned fool.'

"Are you busy, Captain? Would you like to take a seat here and keep me company on this fine morning?" Sophie patted the bench and Jack nodded with a bashful smile and sat by her.

At first conversation was awkward and Sophie sat and played with the book on her lap as Jack squirmed and fidgeted about. She realised that he was at pains for a subject to talk about with her, so she decided to give him a lead. "Tell me, Captain...why is there such a lot of trouble about your sinking of the Cacafuego? Surely it was an undisputed victory to have so signally defeated a much larger ship?"

Jack looked at the young woman with evident surprise. "You are interested in the facts, Ma'am?"

"Why yes...and also about the actual taking of the warship. I am fascinated by such detail!" Sophie slightly overplayed her interest. She was rather more interested in his large glassy blue eyes shaded by long golden brown lashes and the peppering of scars and other flaws on his manly face. The set of his jaw, its deep cleft that spoke of confidence and arrogance, the full fleshy mouth that suggested sensuality and desire, the golden hair, so thick and with a wayward curl, his thick sideburns which met his already growing stubble that screamed "TESTOSTERONE!" and that voice...the voice...deep and slightly gravel, soft and yet with an authoritative strength...She shook herself and forced herself to listen and ask intelligent questions and not simply be entranced by proximity to him.

When his long and rather complex account of naval regulations and points of law and differing opinions concluded he seemed to have loosened up and the conversation turned to other topics. Sophie's memory- still not returned, I'm afraid- his next orders- 'we expect to hear very soon once the refitting is completed, ma'am' and then just passing the time of day.

The church bell across the small square tolled the hour and Jack jumped to attention. He had wiled away too much of the day and had much to do. "I am sorry, Miss Smithers but I cannot linger - much as I would like to. You are a charming companion but there is work to be done. Lose not a minute I tell my men and it would not do to find the captain shilly-shallying about. I must take my leave and thank you for your kind understanding. I hope when we next meet, my behaviour does not require a further apology..." Jack suddenly grinned- Sophie was hooked- and stood up to make a bow.

"Wait! I mean...excuse me, sir, but could you stay one moment longer? I wondered...it just occurred to me...would you take supper with me tonight? I have rooms quite close and my Landlady is always amenable to catering for guests..."

Jack's face broke into a wide smile. "Madam, I would be most desirous of that. It would please me of all things, Miss Smithers!"

"Number 12, Cadogan Row, then, Sir, at eight o'clock!" Sophie smiled back coyly.

"My pleasure, Ma'am. Until then!" And Jack dipped forward, kissed her hand before giving her a small bow and withdrew. Sophie watched him go and let out a small sigh of appreciation for the sight of his retreating back, so broad and square in his smart uniform, the golden queue hanging down as he strode purposefully across the gardens and away, with the swagger of a man who has just made a promising engagement with a pretty Miss. Sophie was quivering with anticipation. She was going to have some fun tonight.

Jack arrived on the strike of eight of the hour, dressed and brushed in his best uniform and shaved and combed to a level rarely seen in the swarthy and hirsute captain. Mrs. Trumpton all but tripped over her tongue when she opened the door at his sharp knock and she found herself staring at his broad back. Groveling and scraping she led him up to the charming set of rooms on the first floor occupied by Miss Smithers who firmly closed the door on her before the landlady had time to observe the nature of their greeting.

"Captain Aubrey!

"Miss  Smithers!"

"Call me Jack, I beg you!"

"Sophie, please..."

The table was set with a fine supper: a roast capon, glazed ham, cheese board, bread, pickles, boiled eggs, fruit, a large tart and jug of cream. There were several bottles of wine and a decanter of port. Jack sat down and ate sparingly. That alone would have shocked almost anyone who knew him. He drank a glass or two - but was very abstemious. Was he ill?

Sophie played with a morsel and tried to encourage Jack to eat more, but both were far more interested in each other. He found himself listening to her talk about this and that and thinking that she was singularly informed and had such a charming manner; her mouth was so inviting... then he would shake himself and return to listening. Compared to his normal social behaviour, he was quiet and subdued, yet strangely relaxed.  He lent his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand and smiled at her as she babbled on, answering here and there and making remarks, asking her things so that he could hear her talk some more. To an observer they would have seen Jack as rather dreamy-eyed and gentle, facets of his character rarely exhibited.

"Goodness me! I have been talking nonstop! I do apologise, you must be falling asleep with my nonsense!" Sophie giggled.

"Why no, Ma'am. To the contrary, indeed. I have never spent such a pleasant hour or two in many a long day. But, I fear I have stayed too long. It is quite late and hardly seemly for a gentlewoman such as yourself to entertain a man in her rooms at this hour. I would not harm your reputation for the world!" Jack jumped up and began to take his leave.

"You wouldn't?" Sophie said, almost forgetting where she was.

"Beg pardon, ma'am?" Jack stopped and observed her curiously, a slight gleam of the predator appearing for a moment.

Sophie thought how best to put this without offending him. "I meant...can you not tarry a while longer? We haven't cut into this excellent pie and...I wondered if we might perhaps...get to know each other a little less formally, as it were..."

Jack considered her words for a moment and then seemed to come to a decision. "It would be very easy for me to stay longer but I believe that it would compromise your virtue. That is not my wish for you, Sophie." It was prettily said and Sophie was stunned that he was all but refusing an overt offer.

"And what of my wishes, sir?"

"Your wishes?" She could see a light sheen of sweat break out on his brow; Jack was struggling with his nature here.

"May I be frank?" Sophie sat down again and indicated that Jack should also do so. "I am not from the society with which you are accustomed. Our traditions differ. In my place, women are allowed more freedom to take their pleasure where they desire. In return, they are accorded the right to say no in equal measure."

Jack listened carefully. "So you now remember where you came from?"

Sophie nodded.

"And you are returning there?"

Another nod. 

He swallowed hard."Will I see you again?"

"Probably not, Jack. Tonight may be all we ever have."

He looked down at the scraper that he had been clenching in his fist and played with the edges. "Then may I stay?"

"I hope for nothing else in life. Is that what you would wish?" Sophie replied.

"I should like it of all things, my dear Sophie!"

"Then it is settled. Now...shall we cut into this pie? It looks most delicious."

Jack suddenly found that his appetite had returned and they both proceeded to tuck in with more gusto and quite a loosening of inhibition- they had at last found their appetites.

Sophie served him his portion and then plonked herself down on his lap; he fed her from his bowl and she took another spoon and fed him. Soon the bowl was empty and then he picked up a glass of sweet Madeira- they helped each other sip. It was but a step from there to licking the droplets of wine from the other's lips. Jack took her neck gently and dipped her face to his, reaching for a kiss that went from tender touch to deep lingering discovery in moments.

Sophie whimpered; he pulled her close and felt how the contours of her body excited him, responding with a low purr of satisfaction at her taste and smell and feel. She was glorious; a feast of the senses for a man of his nature. He pulled her hair from its ribbon and she shook it around them as she kissed him again, fumbling with his hair tie to free his golden locks from restraint and running her hands sensually through.

"Oh...Sophie!" He muttered as her fingers untied the neck cloth and slipped it from him, unfastening his shirt to reach in and stroke his warm chest.

"Oh...Jack!" She murmured as he deftly unbuttoned the back of her gown and eased it from her shoulders.

At that he stood, Sophie still on his lap and swung her into his arms. "Where?"

Sophie pointed to a door beyond and he strode through it to the tiny bedroom. Placing her down on her feet, he shrugged off his coat and sat on a stool to pull off his boots. Sophie straddled his legs with a laugh and eased them from him; he put his hand on her rump and caressed it lightly.

No longer encumbered, Jack ripped off his stockings and stood before her, hands on his hips and shirt hanging open; Sophie nearly fainted with longing for him. Slipping her dress from her shoulders, she let it fall and Jack gasped in surprise to find her naked beneath. Totally naked. Creamy white skin, full high breasts, rose nipples pebbled already at the sight of him, narrow waist, tiny hips, sweet brown hair nestling above her sex and long slender shapely legs. He let out an involuntary groan at her perfection - and his manhood responded likewise.

If Sophie had been impressed by his groin before, her eyes all but popped out of her head at the sight she was now met with. She glanced from his face to his breeches and then back to his face again; her expression alerted him. "Do not worry...Sophie are you a maid? I thought you must be more... experienced by your behaviour..." Jack looked embarrassed and placed his hand across the front of his breeches.

Sophie threw back her pretty head and laughed naughtily. "I am not as you say...a maid...I have simply never seen such an impressive package in my life! I am not offended!"

Jack grinned and shrugged bashfully at the giggling naked nymph before him. Sophie launched herself at him and he swung her into his arms, reveling in the soft and dainty feel of her naked flesh in his large hands. She was soft as a peach and smooth as silk in his fingers. And then she slithered down from his grasp and proceeded to boldly tackle his clothes, pulling the shirt over his head and then kneeling to unfasten his breeches. "Pardon me...Sophie...it is not seemly...." but his protests were in vain as she pulled them then his linens down  and he was left as naked as she, with his cock standing proudly between them.

"You are so beautiful!" She gasped as she gently stroked his length with one hand while running the other over the expanse of his chest. Jack had been called many things before, but never beautiful. Wenches whistled and hooted at his manhood, women like Diana smiled seductively and were duly impressed at his girth, and innocent maidens blushed and averted their eyes. Never had he known a woman so innocently appraise him and with such open and joyful pleasure. It made him proud that he could please her so and yet, he had hardly even touched her.

A great emotion welled up in his breast and he felt quite overcome. It was not a feeling that he might have expected at such a moment. He had been a lonely child, his mother dying early and then packed off to sea at eight. From then on he had lived with men and learnt to accept their rough and ready, if kindly ways. His comfort had come from women who had seen him as a wage, a night's fun and games, a possible husband. But never had anyone ever told him that he was beautiful in their eyes in all his life. And suddenly in a flash of an instant everything in his life changed for him. Jack simply began to truly fall in love. This was not about comfort for a lonely sailor, or relief for his pressing ardour. Jack saw in this unusual and beautiful woman some sort of female counterweight to himself. A spirit of enthusiasm and energy, an embracer of life's gifts and a true and warm friend. Here was trust. Here was kindliness. Here was affection.

Jack took her hand and pulled her close, his urgent cock pressed against her belly; she came into his arms and he kissed her with a fervour not born of lust but passion, and then he laid her gently on the bed. Lying at her side, he touched her softly and she did the same to him; no frantic wrestling and wild boarding, no mounting this woman  and pounding away in his normal fashion, but taking his time to touch and look and taste and smell until his senses were ripe with every part of her and hers with him.

She was not shy. Nor was she lewd. Sophie kissed his mouth and then his cock with equal tenderness. She parted her legs and raised her knee to let him see all her beauty - but her action was not crude. She nestled in his groin and caressed and suckled him lovingly - and this was no whore at work. There was nothing she wouldn't allow him or want for herself as they came together but it felt as if she was simply discovering the joy of him by instinct, not from past experience. It was a singular wild and heady moment.

When she was ready, sex dripping with honey, swollen with desire, her skin flushed with pleasure and her breasts thrust before him, he eased his aching cock along her open slit, slipped and slithered in her dew, held himself and fumbled in his excitement to feel her dark centre. Sophie took him firmly in hand and poised his tip at her entrance. "I want this, Jack. I want you.., for you are the most beautiful man I have ever met and I would know your body and give all of mine to you. Freely. Willingly. In love." He pushed and slipped inside. Warmth. Wetness. Tight strong walls pulsating as he rose and fell. Lights danced before his eyes at the sense of deep and thrust, his body unable to think or feel anything but the artistry of cock and cunt.

He heard her soft cries, felt her writhe and meet his every downward motion, sensed her rising to her completion, hit the place deep within her that sent fluttering shocks through her already trembling frame and then once more and...bliss... pleasure beyond all imagining, shuddering through him in wave after wave of joy. Blackness. Absence of sense... and then the return to place. Jack found himself legs caught between her thighs, resting on his strong upper arms, head buried in her sweet neck, her hair like a mist about him. And the throb and pulse of his seed leaking to the sheets beneath them.

"Oh, Sophie!"

"Oh, Jack!"

What else could either of them say?

Jack eased himself away and rolled on to his side, letting his left hand trail down her body, over the glorious breasts, down the flat, smooth belly and then to play with the moist, semen-jeweled curls. Sophie sighed and stretched like a little cat at his touch , still tender in the aftermath. There they lay, breath still ragged, hearts still dangerously fast, legs entangled and fingers interlaced, bodies close.

Sophie sighed and ran her hand idly down his body, smiling at the differences between them. She took in his mighty chest, the scars, the light brown hair on the sun-bronzed torso, muscles rippling as he moved, virility swelling from him, unrepentant, unrestrained. His arms were thick and bulging in bicep and soft hair, nicked and pitted here and there with the remnants of wounds. His fingers were meaty and long and yet there was a touch of delicacy in their movement as if they wished to reveal some hidden artistry among the powerful strength. His belly was wide and soft, a little heavier than he ought to be, but somehow making him seem more real, less created, more natural and as God had intended him to be.

She traced the line of hair that speared down his belly until it thickened into the coarse thatch of his light brown pubic hair, curling erotically around his genitals and thinning out as it traveled down his round muscle-hardened thighs. She picked up his cock, damp and soft with love, rolled it in her palm and he allowed her to play, widening his legs as she gently fondled his heavy sac, felt each large ball and the dark wrinkled flesh furred with hair. "God, I love your cock! It is so magnificent!" He blushed and waved away her nonsense, wondering at her words. How could this perfect creature regard his scarred and hairy body as a thing of beauty? And yet she did.

"Who are you, Sophie? Where did you come from?" He suddenly asked.

She turned her face away and stared at the wall. "I cannot say, Jack. I simply cannot say. I would tell you if I could- do you believe me?" She turned her face back to him and he took her back in his arms.

"I believe whatever you wish me to. I shall not ask again. But I have a boon to ask of you."

"Anything, Jack!"

"Stay a little while longer. Until I sail. Who knows what might happen to me then? But I would have these days with you....can you give me that?"

Sophie snuggled up to him and held him tight. "I would that I could do more! But yes, I will not leave until you are gone. I promise you that, my sweet, sweet Jack!"

And so he smiled and rolled her under him, while Sophie giggled and let him play. The night was young and he was sober. There was much more shot in Jack's cannon than he had fired yet this night. It would be a long watch until dawn...