Jack stood on the quarter deck and stared out into another wet and windy night. Autumn was moving in and the seas were high, gales and storms growing in ferocity as October had given way to November. The ship ploughed steadily forward on its way home, every nautical mile taking them nearer and nearer to the wild and stormy coast of his homeland.

It was as if he willed her on, as if his determination alone and his dogged presence deep in the night staring out into the dark waters was the thing that made his beloved ship move so fast. Perhaps it was. He knew every plank of wood and bolt, each failing and every sublime strength. If any man could make her fly, it was he.

"Still up, Jack? Don't you think you should sleep? You will be fit for nothing when you reach Portsmouth..." Stephen Maturin, himself a poor sleeper, stood by his friend and smiled.

Jack appeared to jump slightly; he had been far away. "Oh, Stephen, there you are...I fear sleep will not come tonight...my mind is restless..."

"Would ye take a drop of laudanum, to ease you?" He put a hand on the solid bulk of his friend's back. "Sophie will prefer you wide awake, I should think, than snoring in your own bed!"

"Am I that patent?" Jack smiled and turned to his friend, his bright blue eyes catching in the moonlight. 

"I would be a very unfeeling man if I did not know that four months away from your young bride had taken its toll. There is no shame in missing your wife, brother..."

His friend nodded. "Let us take a glass and I shall try to get a few hours before the dawn. I worry about her so. She is so alone there in that dreadful barn of a house. I cannot imagine how she passes her days and if she wants for anything. I didn't leave her much, you know? I had hoped my prizes would have come in before now but we still wait..."

Stephen sat down in the Great Cabin while Jack poured two glasses of brandy; it was a welcome warmth after the cruel wind on deck. "Her needs are simple. And Diana promised to visit her and keep her company."

"Stephen?" Jack suddenly asked, his face lost in thought. "Do you ever think that there is anything...different about Sophie?" He grunted in frustration, searching for the way to explain himself. "What I mean to say is...she is not as other woman...No, that implies she is not quite right..."

"Jack. You love her. Of course she seems to you as no other woman. Do not fret yourself..." Stephen tried to placate Jack although he knew full well what Jack was trying to articulate. Sophie Aubrey was indeed like no other living woman. Stephen had already suspected for a long time that her origin lay in some fantastical crossing from another era, even though he found the very notion of it almost incredible to believe.

"I suppose that is the reason for it. But I do sometimes feel that she is very... very...singular..." He shook his head and drank down the spirit, grimacing at its bite. "I am so very..." he clenched his fist and drummed it on the table at his side. "So very...restless...I have been like this since we received our orders to return to Portsmouth. I should have sent for her...she could have summered in Malta and we would have seen each other regularly. I ..." He ran his hands over his long yellow hair, and pulled it loose.

"It would have been a drain on your limited expenses, Jack. The society there would have required of you to spend money on leasing a decent property and what with gowns and carriages, not to mention entertaining..."

"Damn money!" he shouted and thumped his fist. "My father sits on his pile and would not extend a hand to me if my life depended on it! The bloody law courts haggle over the rightful prizes that I won with the sweat of my brow and my own courage...and all the while my wife lives as a pauper and I am not able to see her these months on end..."

He gritted his teeth, clearly regretting his outburst before even his friend. Stephen recognised Jack's distress. There was no doubt that he loved his lady but he was also lonely and plagued with strong lusts. In all the time he had been parted from his beautiful Sophie, Jack had not, to Stephen's knowledge, touched a woman. There had been no trips to visit Mercedes, no late night carousing in gambling dens with a wench on his knee for later, no flirting with genteel ladies (many of whom were as ready as the doxies to let Jack Aubrey beneath their skirts). His friend had been the soul of discretion, keeping decent hours, indulging only slightly in excessive consumption of the grape and spending many evenings either playing bitter sweet laments on his violin or mooning around in his cabin writing long letters to Sophie.

But Venus cannot be denied and Jack had a taste for women that had a tendency to possess him if it was thwarted. Stephen knew that he would be obsessed with his need for his lovely wife's body and that amorous thoughts were often dogging his lusty mind.

"She will be there when you return and we are only a few days off. Take a fast post-chaise at the dock and spend a week in her arms. Don't think of anything else until the pair of you is satiated!" Stephen exclaimed. "And I say that as your doctor, as much as your friend!" Jack guffawed and leaned over to splash more spirit into their glasses. "A final drink and then I shall take a few hours' sleep. "To the fairer sex! May they ever beguile us!" Jack grinned and tossed back his measure, his mood somewhat lightened as he dragged off his breeches and staggered to bed.

Sophie buried herself beneath the nest of blankets on her bed and rubbed her feet together for warmth. A pale light crept through the window pane and she knew she should be up and lighting the fire but it was so very, very cold in the draughty old house. When Jack had bought it and taken her back after their wedding, it had seemed the very ideal of a rustic country home. But that had been June, the whole summer ahead and with her bridegroom by her side, Sophie had played at keeping house. They had rarely dressed properly for weeks, living in their linens, wandering around the place loving and pleasuring each other, eating when they felt like, bathing in the mill pond like two nature spirits, running naked through their lands. No one had bothered them and they had needed no body but each other.

Occasionally they had dressed up in their finery and walked into town to visit the market or dine at the inn. Once or twice they had attended dinners or an occasional dance, aware that the local gossips thought the Captain had married  beneath him some lady of a dubious reputation - and the fact that they had eyes for  no one but each other seemed merely to confirm that. Jack had squared up menacingly to any fellow who had thought to ask the beautiful bride for a turn around the floor and Sophie had merely thrown back her head and laughed brightly, adoring his jealousy and aggression where she was concerned. She had been unconcerned what people thought of her in her ignorance and had not understood that it would eventually have significance on her social standing. Jack and Sophie had simply been blinded by their love to all other things. What a time those weeks had been when they had tasted their first sweet days of married love!

But all things must end. Jack's orders had come in and he had had to sail. They did not have the funds for her to summer in the Mediterranean closer to the fleet and so, with a heavy heart, Jack had bade his bride farewell.

He had thought she would be well settled now that he had introduced her to local society but he had not counted on the cruelty of rumour and the narrow minds of these provincial folk. Once the brave captain was no longer at her side, most people regarded Sophie Aubrey as a social misfit, a woman of no morals who had bewitched the lusty seaman, well known for his over active member. Gossips said that the little hussy had entrapped the brave captain and broken the heart of Sophie Williams, a local girl of high regard. The new Mrs. Aubrey was viewed with some suspicion - no one actually knew where she had come from - and that was usually an indicator of dubious background. Thus once her husband was away at sea, the invitations came to a stop, ladies crossed to the other side if they passed her on the High Street in Petersfield and even shopkeepers seemed loathe to extend her credit. Her one friend, Diana Villiers, who would have made sure that she was provided for, had taken it in her head to move to London with a gentleman of means that she was romancing, her latest lover. She had no idea of Sophie's plight.

And so summer had turned to autumn and things had deteriorated for the young wife in her lonely retreat. The only servant she could still afford was a lazy good-for-nothing, Nellie Butterstile, who had frankly been more trouble than she was worth. Finally, Sophie had told her to leave and paid her rather more than she owed her just to see the back of the lumpen hussy who answered her back to her face and left more chores undone about the house than completed.

But she found it very hard to manage alone. Sophie had little idea how to carry out most of the household tasks without modern appliances and the cleaning aids that she had been used to. It took her all her time merely to light and maintain a fire, cook a simple meal on the open range and wash clothes in vats of freezing water. Anything more than that she left, aware that the house was growing dustier and shabbier all the time.

And then there was the question of money. She had none. What Jack had left her soon ran out because the grocer and the butcher and other traders had insisted on payment upfront. For days she had worried about what she would do until the idea suddenly came to her like a flash. She had a profession - perhaps the only profession that might be acceptable for a woman in these times. Sophie was a needlewoman - a highly skilled designer and craftswoman who had worked in the field of historical costumes for motion pictures and theatre production. It was only a step away from becoming a seamstress to the ladies of fashion in this era.

And so she had asked the milliner to put up a little card in her window:

The same women who spurned her socially seemed more than willing to employ her to make their gowns and lingerie - and she was talented. There was also her slightly different style, the unusual cut to her work and a more imaginative finishing. Sophie called it 'a la mode francaise', aware that few of these country middle class women knew what elegant Parisian women were wearing anyway. Her reputation was growing and the only thing that stopped her earning more money was the time it took to handsew one of these dresses. She often worked in poor light until her eyes ached and her fingers bled. But at least she was doing something useful, not just living off Jack's limited funds. That made it all worthwhile.

The weeks had ticked by in their monotonous sameness and Sophie had done her best to put up with the hardship. Jack had said he would most likely be back in the late autumn and the hope of that burned brightly in her heart, often the only light in the gloom of her solitary life. One of the most trying things of all for her was the lack of news. Coming from a world of communications at one's fingertips, when email, mobiles, SMS etc., connected people wherever they might be, for her husband to go away and only one letter to have arrived in three months was excruciating for her. Even when his one long missive was delivered, and she poured over and over and over it, kissing the lines of his impatient scrawl and sleeping with it under her pillow until it was in danger of falling apart, Sophie knew that the news was weeks old and that anything might have happened to him in the interim. He was at war and often, she imagined, in mortal danger.

Not that he spoke of such things. His letter was informative on one level talking about his men and their lives, narrating amusing or annoying  incidents that had taken place on board, describing ports that they had visited, rambling on with thoughts that had occurred to him as if thinking aloud, sweet declarations of his affection couched in almost laughingly formal tones, mentions of Stephen and things they had discussed...But Sophie read between his lines and saw that he was omitting any whisper of information about his mission or the action they must have encountered. That realization only made her worry more and her dreams were littered with nightmarish visions of battle and death and mutilation.

Forcing herself from her bed and wrapping a warm shawl around her narrow shoulders, Sophie began the day and wondered how much longer before he came home to her and lit up her world again...

It was already past noon when Jack disembarked, a motley trail of sailors following him, heaving up his sea chest and other luggage. A post chaise was found and Jack climbed inside with Stephen Maturin whilst, Killick, Bonden and old Joe Plaice scrambled up on top with the driver. "Light along, man," Jack said impatiently. "Petersfield - shake a leg!" And he settled back, hand on his chin, watching the city give way to the countryside, his knee jiggling and his foot tapping all the while. Stephen settled back with a book but could not help notice the agitation of his particular friend and smiled inwardly. Dear Jack! How he longed to see his darling Sophie again!

This was the first occasion that Stephen ever remembered that Jack had docked and failed to join a few of his fellow captains at one of the portside hostelries for a session of drunken debauchery. But this time all the man wanted was to rush to his pretty wife and not waste a single moment of his leave. That woman was going to be the making of Jack, he saw it now. No more would he fritter away money, ruin his health with drinking and overeating, spend his shore time with common doxies or with the wives of other men and risk them calling him out in a duel. At last he had the secure foundation that would shore up his wandering soul and give him a new purpose.

Another reason that Jack was so eager to see his wife was that he had excellent news. Waiting for him at Portsmouth had been the settlement of his long drawn out court action over the taking of the Cacafuego; he was now a very wealthy man and the days of running and hiding lest debtors' prison catch him were over. Stephen knew Jack planned to lavish gifts on his lady and to finally begin to make their home into a decent place for them to live and entertain. He was full of ideas and notions.

As usual Jack had brought a few of his men with him, those who had nowhere else to go. His kind heart did not allow him to abandon them to squander their pay and leave in sordid dockside digs and he also knew that they would be of great use to him about his property. Stephen, however, wondered exactly what Sophie might make of the three rough and ready sailors moving into her home and taking over its day-to-day running. He had a feeling that Jack might meet some resistance from the spirited woman he had so recently married.

But that remained to be seen.

It was not long before Jack dozed off, despite his eagerness to be home, and his head dropped back onto the upholstered seat as he gave into to rest. His dreams were full of his return, images of Sophie running down the lane and he catching her in his arms and swinging her  round and round as light as a little feather in his strong embrace. He saw her throw her head back in delight, laughing happily. He would carry her to the house, run up the stairs and they would fall to their bed, clothes pulled away and...

"Captain? We're here, sir...well, all but anyway..."

A sharp knock on the window jolted him back to wakefulness and he sat up with a start, aware that he was in a state of arousal and pulling his great cloak closer around his shoulders as he opened the door and leapt out. His dream had conjured up a finer day than the one which greeted him.

It was a gloomy early November afternoon, wet and cold. His boots squelched on the muddy path. Ahead was his home, but it looked forlorn and run down, not the rustic idyll festooned with summer blossom that his memory had made of it. There was, however, a thin grey plume of smoke rising from the chimney and he hoped that she was at home. To come so far and find the place deserted would have been too cruel now.

Leaving the men to bring up the luggage, Jack strode towards the house, trying the front door and finding it locked. He ran round to the rear and the scullery entrance, slipping in to that dank stone flagged room. It was dusty and appeared not to have been used much. For a moment he frowned, but his desire to find his wife drove the oddness of the appearance of the servants' quarters from his mind.

Through to the hallway, he searched each room; it was the same story, dusty, fires unlit, no candles burning and sheets covering most of the furniture as if no one even dwelled there. He was beginning to feel uneasy. What had happened in his absence? Dear God, had she decided after all to return to that other life that was still such a mystery to him?

Heart racing now, sweat breaking on his brow, he ran up the stairs two at a time, calling her name. "Sophie? SOPHIE! Where are you?" he shouted as he charged upstairs.

Bursting through their bedroom door, he found the object of his affection, sitting on a high backed chair pulled close to a fire that had almost burnt out in the grate. She was wrapped in a blanket and had a dress across her knee - she had fallen asleep at her mending. As he threw back the door, she jumped and woke with a little cry, pricking her finger on the needle in her hand.

"Jack!" Sophie sprang to her feet, and in moments they were in each other's arms, kissing passionately. "Jack! My own sweet Jack!" she murmured as he found her lips and plundered them eagerly.

"Sophie....my beautiful Sophie..." he moaned into her ear, his hands roaming freely around her body. She felt so slight in his arms, even more slender and delicate than he remembered.

Pulling away, Jack held her at arms length to look at her closely. "Have you lost weight, dear girl? You are so pale and peaky...have you been ill?" He asked, concerned now.

Sophie shook her head. "Not ill. But desolate without you, Jack! It has been hard. I have not kept house very well - it is too much for me alone..."

"Alone?" Jack questioned, suddenly looking about him and realizing how very disheveled everything looked - even Sophie herself seemed dowdy and not the sparkling lady she had been. "Where are the servants? Why is the house so ill-kept?"

Sophie blushed. "I could not afford to pay them when all the bills came in...I had to let them go..."

"What bills?" He demanded.

Sophie blanched slightly at his stern interrogation. "The butcher, the grocer, the dressmaker, the blacksmith, all the local tradesman..."

"I told you to defer those - I did not leave you money for that. They can damned well wait until I returned with my prize money..."

"But they wouldn't sell me more until I paid them!" Sophie insisted.

"Tosh! They tried that nonsense on and you were ninny enough to fall for it! Have you no backbone, girl! Do you think they would really cross me?" It was hardly the reaction Sophie had expected. Her lip trembled at his thoughtless rebuke.

"I tried my best, Jack! I didn't know what to do! I had this girl called Nelly and she was so bold and lazy that I sacked her but then I couldn't manage and I haven't been able to cook properly for I don't know how to handle the range..."

"Cook? My wife cooking and cleaning like a common house servant? What were you thinking of? Sophie, you....surely you must have...why, I have never known a woman quite so woolly headed as you!"

He strode out of the room and shouted down. "Killick! You men down there! Get this place bottomed. I want everything stripped, washed down and replaced in double quick time and the fires lit, a meal on and some semblance of order restored. Good God, it's like a damned mausoleum in here! Jump to it!"

Storming back to the room, Jack took one look at the fire and threw some logs on, stoking it up with the poker. "This place is stone cold! It's a wonder you haven't caught your death of a chill. What is the matter with you to let this happen? Must I have to worry about you as well as all my men when I am at sea?"

At that Sophie simply burst out weeping and backed away from him. "How can you say that! That I am a burden to you? Is that what you mean? Of course you should worry about me when you are away! As I worry about you. How can you be so heartless when I have waited for you here alone for so many months?"

Jack grimaced when he realized his words. He was no longer barking at men who had failed to do their duty in his ship. This was a young and delicate woman, unused to a harsh life and he had expected too much of her too quickly. He was disconsolate at his harsh words and wished he could bite his tongue out for having wounded her so.

"Forgive me...forgive me, Sophie...I am a brute to speak to you that way....I...I just cannot bear to think of how you have suffered so ill. God damn those tradesman for leeches and wolves for their abuse. But I am home now and this will never happen again. You should have asked Diana for help; she would have interceded for you!" Jack replied, on his knee now and clutching at her tiny waist in apology. Sophie stroked his hair back and sobbed quietly; Jack found her tears the most painful thing imaginable.

"She is gone to London with some new lover of hers. She doesn't know my situation. I have been so alone and scared, Jack...and I was afraid for you...so afraid..."

He sprang up and clutched her to him. "Hush, sweet, hush....I am with you now...you are safe..."

"Did you get my letters?" Sophie gasped as she buried herself against his broad chest.

"I received but one...the rest will no doubt be waiting for me at the Navy office in Portsmouth. I rushed back without checking and sent a message for my mail to be forwarded here..."

"Oh...never mind...never mind...they were just silly letters. I have missed you...I have longed for you...let's go to bed and make love....please, Jack, I need you...I need you deep inside me..."

As much as the idea appealed to Jack, he shook his head. "The men are engaged on their duties readying the house. They need to clear out this room, too...come, let us go downstairs and have a glass of wine. Once the house is fit for habitation, we will be able to dine and relax. I cannot simply be seen to dally with my wife in the middle of the day! What would it look like? As though you were some common strumpet by the port?"

Sophie knitted her pretty brows at his words. "I take it that you would have no objection to taking your pleasures with such a woman - but it is not seemly with your wife...?"

"That is not what I meant, Sophie, do not be contentious..."

Sophie pouted and flounced away from him. "You go away for months and then expect me to act like we are almost total strangers? I seem to remember the last time you were here you didn't seem to mind wandering around the house undressed at any hour and 'dallying' as you now call it, all over the house!"

Jack grunted in annoyance, pacing the room. "We were alone then. That is quite a different matter...my men are downstairs...Stephen is downstairs....you surely cannot expect me to roll you on your back with them listening in...?

His wife turned on her heel, eyes glinting with temper. "Then why the hell did you bring them here, you stupid idiot? Don't you imagine I would rather have you to myself? Have you no sense whatsoever?"

After almost four months at sea, Jack was still very much in master and commander mode. To be faced down by this slip of a woman and told he was an idiot unleashed the full force of his rather formidable temper.

"Do not dare raise your voice to me in that fashion, my lady! Had I not brought these men back, I shudder to imagine what we would do for housekeeping. You seem quite incapable of doing your duty as befits a woman in any other way, it would appear that in my bed. And that, madam...I can get anywhere..."

Sophie's mouth dropped and her eyes widened. "You bastard!" she screamed at him and picked up the dress she had been working on flinging that at him and then the entire contents of her needle work basket, each bobbin fired at him one by one as he dodged the missiles. "Get out of my sight! Go to one of your whores then and see if she will put up with you! Just keep away from me - if you know what's good for you!" Sophie sobbed. "And when you get downstairs to your lackeys, ask one of them to heat some water for me. I need to bathe...and sir, if I may be so bold to say - so do you!"

Jack lurched for the door and stormed out, slamming the door behind him and running down the stairs. His men were hard at it, having stripped down the parlour and the dining room completely, scoured every inch thoroughly and were now reassembling the rooms and polishing the silverware and ornaments. Fires were blazing, the kitchen was being scrubbed down and Bonden was being dispatched to the village with a list of provisions to buy. Amidst it all Stephen was settled down at an escritoire, writing a few letters and drinking a glass of port. The loud interchange between the captain and his wife had been clearly heard by all although each had studiously avoided comment. Stephen had winced once or twice at the retorts and the men had exchanged a few glances, but as Jack burst in, they all acted as if they were entirely ignorant.

Aubrey stood a few moments, hands on his hips breathing deeply; then he helped himself to a liberal glass of port and drank it down in one before dashing more into his empty glass and refilling Stephen's.

"Begging your pardon, sir, but we'd like to start on the upstairs...and the lady mentioned a bath..." Killick began

"Get on with it, man... this place isn't fit for dogs!" Jack spat out. Stephen glanced up at him.

"You'll burst your spleen, Jack, if you don't calm down," Stephen observed softly.

"Calm down! Calm down! How can any man remain calm in the presence of that infernal woman! She has the temper of a wild cat and the tongue of a viper..."

Stephen shook his head and took of his reading glasses. "Jack! You were hardly gentle with her...."

"Look at this place! How could she be so...incompetent...?" he spluttered.

It was a delicate matter. Stephen Maturin had certain suspicions about where Mrs. Aubrey had originated which were both fanciful and disturbing. He did not feel that he could share those thoughts with a pragmatic man like Aubrey. "Jack, she is a gently brought up woman who has clearly never had to take control of a household before. She is not some tradesman's daughter used to managing affairs. Mrs. Aubrey is a lady and you left her in circumstances that we now see were not ones conducive to her experience. Be not so harsh with her. What a bear you can be when you have a temper on you. You should be ashamed of yourself!" Stephen chided.

Jack slumped down in a chair and contemplated his friend's words. "I was damnably hard on her, wasn't I? Good God, I spoke to her like some foremost Jack who had crossed my path when I was in a hip...You are so right, brother. What a brute I was...the poor girl...so alone, so helpless...and I treat her in this way...damn! What is the matter with me?"

He appeared genuinely aggrieved and Stephen reached over to pat his arm. "If I may say so, Jack, this is to be expected. You are used to commanding men, not gentle ladies and she is not yet accustomed to your gruff ways. And, not to be too indelicate...I think there is a heightened tension between you that a night's..." he cleared his throat before continuing..." a night's rest together will no doubt relieve. You have both a need for the release of the intimate humours that have arisen in the time you were apart..."

Jack raised his head and glared sourly at Stephen, unwilling to let even his dear brother make a reference to his erotic feelings for his wife- or to suggest that a lady like Mrs. Aubrey might share those for her husband. "Quite so," was his terse reply.

For a while they sat in silence and then Stephen tried again. "There is another matter that may well explain your wife's...emotional fragility, dear Jack...surely it had occurred to you?"

Jack frowned, clearly no idea of what his friend might be referring. "Such as?"Stephen sighed. "Women are assailed by many moods, as we all know, especially at a particular time of the month..."

"God God!" Jack exclaimed. "That's all I bloody well need...!" he retorted sharply, as the possibility dawned on him.

"Come now, Jack, do not be sour...but I was also wondering about another explanation that might be the cause of Sophie's uncharacteristic highly emotional state.... I believe your marriage was well consummated before you left...? Stephen began tentatively. Jack was always very prudish about such matters.

"None of your damn business..." came back the answer as Jack drank off another glass.

"Just so. But if you had a healthy experience of each other as befits a virile man and a nubile woman then...it is likely you may have found her in a condition...."

"Condition?" Jack queried. "What damn condition?" His tetchiness was showing no sign of abating.

"An interesting one. A delicate condition....Jack, for God's sake....I would be very surprised if she wasn't carrying a child..."

At that Jack Aubrey's hand almost dropped the glass in shock. "A child?" he echoed. "Good Lord....do you think so? It had never crossed my mind. But now you mention it...we were at it like dogs at a fair in those weeks before I left...beg pardon, Stephen..." Jack blushed at his thoughtless revelation.

Stephen waved his hand. "How did she appear to you? Describe her physical state..." he asked.

Jack rubbed his chin in thought, his mouth softening slightly as the notion of his beautiful Sophie ripe with a belly full of his little one.... "She was thinner and paler than before..."

"Common in the first trimester, Jack. Women feel nauseous and weak, sleeping a great deal..."

"...And...she was very weepy...hysterical almost..."

"A gravid woman is highly emotional and fragile...I think it may very well be the thing, Jack....and if so, she needs very gentle handling..."

"Dear God, I am a wretch," Jack sighed. "The poor child! To be alone and friendless, cold and afraid, a child in her belly and a worthless dog of a husband...! Do you think she knows? Perhaps she is too innocent to realize her condition...?" Jack mused aloud.

Stephen recalled a night some months ago when he had walked in on his friend in the midst of pleasuring his wife-to-be. Sophie had never struck Stephen Maturin as a woman who was innocent of such matters - but who knew what the extent of her understanding might be? "It is possible that she does not recognise the signs. Her body will not have changed a great deal at this point although most women are aware that a cessation of menses in a 'married' woman is suggestive of such a condition..."

Jack jumped up. "Good Lord...that must be it. She never bled....not once....not since we have first been together. That means I must have fired a direct hit at the start! She must be with child and may be well on. You must examine her, Stephen, and advise her. I insist. After her bath...go to her and ascertain her state and then explain the details...I am afraid I am somewhat vague in these matters..."

The doctor pulled a face. "I think she may not take too kindly to me simply bludgeoning in, Jack. You are her husband. She will be very sensitive and possibly anxious at this time. I fear it is your responsibility to put this to her and persuade her that she should consult a doctor...if she is uncomfortable with the...intimacy of uncovering herself to me then I can, of course, suggest better physicians..."

Jack shook his head. "I will not have any other man touching my wife..." Then he stopped and looked again at Stephen. He suddenly realised that he didn't really want Stephen under Sophie's skirts either. On the other hand he wasn't sure he actually knew what an examination entailed in such circumstances. "...Unless we can engage some woman from the village to do the poking about...?" Jack added gruffly.

Stephen stood reached over and patted Jack on the back. "I am a doctor. Such things are natural to my profession. Have no fear. I would never outrage Mrs. Aubrey's modesty." But he smiled to himself, 'No, Jack, that is entirely your field of endeavour, you damned hypocrite,' he thought.

At that Killick came down the stairs muttering to himself. "Which I was trying to do, my lady, but how was I to know you were still lingering in your bath? T'ain't natural at this time of year..."

Jack looked up. "Are you annoying Mrs. Aubrey, you sniveling wretch? If I find you have importuned her in any way...."

"No, sir....wouldn't dream of it, sir...She's says you've got to take a bath...after her...no reason to waste the water..."

Jack excused himself to Stephen and ran upstairs, his mind already drifting to the image of Sophie lying back naked in a tub of hot water and he climbing in with her. Pushing open the room door, he stepped in and cleared his throat. To his disappointment, Sophie was now out and dressing, putting the finishing touches to her neckline, tucking in a scarf that completely hid her rather prominent cleavage. She was rubbing her hair in a towel that she knotted up, turban fashion. "Madam...I fear I owe an abject apology..." he began nervously.

Sophie glanced round at him. He observed the sheen of her fine skin, flushed from the warm steam of the bath and her glorious glow restored. He could smell the rose water perfume from her soap and noticed how the small strands of hair that escaped from her towel curled at the back of her slender neck. Heat thudded into his groin, pulse by thick pulse, and he closed the chamber door softly, beginning to revise his earlier decision not to act on his desire until they were safely couched tonight.

"I rather think you do, Jack. You said some dreadful things. Sometimes you are such a boor..." she snapped back.

He nodded and bit back his reply. This was not the time for baiting each other. "I understand now why you might be somewhat over-emotional..." Jack introduced the topic carefully.

"OVER - emotional? I merely objected to my husband lambasting me so cruelly and then implying that either I was behaving like a whore or he would rather be with one..."

Jack pursed his lips and let her rant on. It was bound to be her current state that caused her to be so unreasonable. "Sophie...is there anything you wish to tell me? Do not be embarrassed...I am your husband and there should be no diffidence between us...."

At his remark, Sophie stopped berating him and seemed confused. "Tell you? What do you mean?" she queried.

Jack stepped towards her, wringing his hands in discomfort. "I suspect...well, to be perfectly fair, Stephen and I suspect...that you are incapacitated by a delicate woman's condition created by our recent change in marital status...It is quite usual for a young bride and wholly to be expected... approved of no less...damnably good news for any husband..."

As he spoke, a look of bewilderment came over Sophie's face and her mouth opened in surprise. Jack presumed the dear thing had not the faintest idea of the forthcoming happy event and blithely continued. "...When you are feeling up to it, perhaps we could arrange for Dr. Maturin to do a private consultation to ensure you are progressing satisfactorily...."

"Jack? What on earth are you going on about? Can't you just say something straight without dancing round the subject for once?"

He coughed and came nearer, picking up a damp tendril of her thick hair and raising it to his face. "I believe you to be with child. Our child...did it not occur to you, sweetheart?"

"WHAT?" Sophie gasped.

"Do not be afraid...it is the natural consequence of congress..." Jack began with a smile.

"Congress?" Sophie echoed.

"I am a man in the prime of life...it is quite to be expected that I should be potent..."

"POTENT?"

Jack took her hands and raised them to his lips but Sophie pulled back. "Jack...are you suggesting that I might be....pregnant?"

He blanched slightly at the word which appeared quite blunt to his ears coming from a gentle woman. "That is what I believe to be the case..."

"Well, I'm not...! Don't you think I would have told you if I were? Bloody hell, Jack...we've only been married five months... and most of those you were off on your travels....give me a break..." Sophie turned on her heel and flopped down at the dressing table, peeling away the towel and brushing out her hair before binding it up demurely and then covering it with a small lace house cap. "...And get a bath before the water goes cold. You are rank, you know...?"

On occasions, usually when she was under stress, Jack had observed Sophie's language change distinctly. She had a tendency to lapse into a rather coarse and spare dialect which confused him. Her brusque dismissal of his tentative suggestion and her rather indelicate reference to his need for a bath seemed wholly out of character for her. She must have been so shocked that she could not cope with the knowledge and was trying to deny its truth.

"Sophie...." Jack pulled off his stock and sat to remove his boots. "..I fear you are a little naïve in such matters..."

Her hair now arranged, Sophie stood up and swung around to face him, her hands on her hips. "Naïve? About what? I am not pregnant! And for your information - I know exactly what goes on when a man knocks his girl up, dear Jack, and as yet, thankfully, you haven't done it. And furthermore while I am on the question of home truths...you stink. So have a bath. Then throw your clothes out of the window - how long is it since you washed properly? Have you seen your fingernails?"

And on that, she walked primly to the door and left the room. Jack stood up in annoyance, ripping off his shirt and breeches, tossing his linens after them into the pile on the floor. He sniffed himself and shrugged. Smelt? What was she talking about? The woman was curiously obsessed with washing. Raising his thick hands before his face, he looked at his nails. Dirty? Well, his nails were ink stained and grimy but that was quite normal for a man in his profession. No woman had ever complained before. Sophie was an odd girl at times for all her loveliness. Damned hard to live with as well.

And was she really not carrying a child?

Naked, Jack lowered himself into the still warm water and lay back with a grunt. He wished she had stayed to sit with him, wash him even, and the thought made his ever ready prick rise. But despite his strong lusts, other thoughts were pressing on his mind. Not with child...

Jack picked up the soap and idly lathered himself with it, wrinkling his nose at the floral scent but still rubbing it in his hands and over his thick hair. If Sophie preferred him to smell like a French whore's boudoir - then so be it.

Not with child...

They had fucked until they had been red raw, he thought to himself. Every day for five or six weeks. Several times every day at least. What little Jack knew about conception, told him that the odds suggested that he should have impregnated his wife in that time. There was only one rational explanation then. Perhaps there was something wrong with Sophie. She might be barren; her womb might be cold.

There were, he believed, many women who were never blessed with children. Jack frowned at the notion. It wasn't as if he was particularly enamoured of little ones - babies were rather odd creatures to him - but he had always imagined that he would father them when he took a wife. He wanted a son - several sons, indeed - and it had simply never occurred to him that his wife might not be able to fulfill this function. Perhaps this was why she had been so curt and offhand when he had raised the subject? Women were bound to want babies as soon as they were married - they always loved cooing over the wretched things. Poor Sophie must have been heartbroken that she had failed him in this regard. And he had stuck his foot right into it by approaching the matter in his usual indelicate fashion! Jack decided that he must speak to Stephen again and ask him to examine her. There might be some medical reason for her problem that could easily remedied - Stephen was the very man who would know such a thing.

Sinking beneath the water to rinse off, Jack heaved a heavy sigh. He had hoped for a homecoming somewhat more harmonious than the one he had received thus far. He was unsure where the day had gone so wrong.  But Sophie had been right. Had they have been alone, none of this would have occurred. They would have fallen upon each other, made glorious love and in their afterglow, lying naked in each other's arms, they would have talked and revealed their true hearts to each other.

Jack absentmindedly skinned back his cock and cleaned it, enjoying the feel of its thick softness between his fingers. A few squeezes and a lazy jerking and he felt the muscle pulse and swell in his palm, while images of his beautiful wife, bare and open, lying before him as he pushed back one lily white leg until it was bent against her breast and his entry was deep and unfettered...

The door opened, creaking on its ancient hinges, startling him from his erotic daydream. Dropping his hand and sinking down further into the now chilled water, he inwardly groaned at the intrusion at such an intimate moment. Killick pottered in carrying some clean clothes and muttering darkly in his normal fashion.

"What in damnation is up with you now?" Jack growled.

"Which I was just bringing up your breeches, sir, as the lady instructed me. But if you prefer to stomp about downstairs in your natural state, it's all the same to me, sir..."

Jack barked at him to pass over a cloth to dry himself and rose, dripping from the bath, wrapping it round his waist and splashing his way across the room to towel off roughly and dress. He could smell the rose-scent from his body and grunted, before throwing on his clothes. Killick gathered together those worn garments he had cast off and tossed them out of the door before returning, shaving Jack and taking a comb to his hair. Jack sat and let him attend to him with no sense of the absurd. To a sailor this was natural - the ordinary men each groomed their hammock mates - or how else could they have dressed their long plaits? With practiced ease, Killick finally bound up the Captain's flowing blond locks in a ribbon and observed sourly: "I can smell roses..." as if the fragrance was singularly abhorrent to him. Jack harrumphed and rose to ease on the waistcoat held out by his servant for him to slip into. It felt odd to be out of uniform but he always sensed an immediate change in his self-image when he put on ordinary clothes; the return to the civilian and an entirely different mode of life.

"Get to work up here! I want this room shipshape and Bristol fashion before nightfall. The rest can be left until tomorrow. Stephen will hardly notice a layer of dust in his chamber..." Jack muttered as he fiddled with his stock, knocking Killick's hand away as he sought to arrange it.

"Begging your pardon, sir, but Mrs. Aubrey told me to leave well alone up here..."

"Nonsense...Right this now, man...! The place is a shambles..."

 Killick smiled obsequiously to himself. There was no way some pretty little woman was going to interfere with his responsibility to Captain Aubrey - wife or no. He'd make sure of that.

"...As you wish, sir...I'll see to it, at the double, sir..." Jack failed to pick up the self-satisfied smirk in his steward's tone, so preoccupied was he with his own troubles.

"Stephen! How good to see you again!" Sophie Aubrey bustled into the room and Stephen Maturin stood to attention. He was delighted to see her looking much better than he had expected after what Jack had earlier implied. Sophie really was a very beautiful woman indeed, although he could see she was paler and somewhat thinner than the last time he had seen her at the dock when they had sailed away in June. But then, she had been enjoying a very indulgent honeymoon with Jack in the preceding weeks which had no doubt involved lots of food and wine - even a slender woman's waistline would have been affected by that measure of excess.

"My dear! How are you!" He took her hand and kissed it tenderly; Sophie curtseyed prettily and shrugged.

"To be honest, I have been better....and ....Jack seems to have some notion that I am pregnant. Well, I'm not - so let's clear that up, shall we? That man infuriates me, Stephen. He's quite impossible! I simply cannot believe how he has burst into our home and behaved so shabbily...whatever is the matter with him?" Sophie complained. Stephen was her close friend and she had always felt able to open up to him, suspecting that he understood more about her background than she had officially admitted to.

"Do not be too aggrieved. It is hard for him to return to normal life. You must understand that at sea he is like a god among men, alone in his lofty position and in charge of the destiny of hundreds of men. It takes him time to realize that here at home he is merely a man as any other...and a married one at that...who must, of course, accept an unfamiliar yoke..." He teased her gently.

Sophie smiled and sat down with a heavy sigh. "He is the most stubborn, opinionated, narrow minded, woodenheaded man I have ever known when he gets into that frame of mind... He makes me so cross, Stephen! I could cheerfully strangle him at times!"

That brought a wide grin from Maturin. "With due respect, ma'am, I have to spend considerably more of my time with him than even you do and I sympathise most wholeheartedly. But he loves you deeply. I have observed the change in him since we left on this voyage and he has been a man apart. He thinks of you constantly. If he overreacted just then, it is no doubt his concern and anxiety for you that underlies it...He wants everything to be perfect for you and is constantly bitter at how he has not been able to provide for you as he wishes he could have done..."

Sophie blushed and began to think about Jack's life and look at the matter from a wholly different angle. She had been so unfair to him, jumping on the first thing he had said when he must have been battle weary and tired, longing for the comfort of his wife who instead had turned on him like a harridan. It made her eyes fill with tears to think of how sharp and cutting she had been. He was a warrior, unused to being home and she had not tried even in the slightest to help him acclimatize. All at once her high dudgeon receded.

"I fear I have been most harsh on my husband....Oh, Stephen, I love him so much and this is quite awful! What can I do to make amends? He must be so disappointed in me!" She exclaimed, tearful again.

Stephen patted her hand. "Not at all! He's thick skinned - none thicker! He will soon come down off his high horse and paradise will be regained. Just you wait and see. That sounds like him now...refreshed from his toilette...?"

Just then, Jack ran down the stairs to the now vastly improved living quarters. Sophie was sitting in the sparkling clean parlour, a roaring fire merrily in the grate chatting to Stephen. It was already early evening, gloomy and windy outside but warm and homely within. His mood began to lighten and, as Bonden had returned with food, Jack was even more sunny by the minute. While Plaice and Bonden went upstairs to see to the master's chamber, Killick set to work to lay out a supper from the cooked meats and pies that had been purchased in the town.

"Ah...there you both are....May I refresh your drinks?" Jack asked. Sophie smiled sweetly and lowered her eyelashes coyly at the sight of her husband now restored to his handsome self, his hair gleaming and his former swarthy face shaved to a smooth finish. He almost took her breath away. As her eyes swept down his imposing physique she could not help but let them linger on the soft bulge between his legs, framed by the high-waisted coat with longer tails that seemed to accentuate both his genitals and the impressive bulge of his thighs. A blush coloured her pale cheeks and Jack noticed it, smiling at her demure loveliness, oblivious to the actual thoughts that had driven her embarrassment.

"Another sherry, would be most welcome, Jack, before dinner," Sophie held out her glass and his fingers trailed sensuously against hers as he poured from a decanter. Their eyes met and the smoulder of desire leapt between them. Stephen turned away, not wishing to intrude on their private moment of reconciliation. At last it appeared that matters were returning to their normal tranquility - or rather the tempestuous passion that these two lovers shared.

The romantic moment was shattered by the clattering of the other men from upstairs who were carting out equipment in the tin bath that they were carrying out. Sophie's head shot up as they walked past the parlour. "You there! What do you think you're doing?" she shouted, rising up and running to the door. "What are you playing at? Those are my things!" she exclaimed.

Bonden looked down and pulled on his forelock. "Beg pardon, Ma'am, but Captain's orders..."

Sophie protested. "What do you mean? Captain's orders? What did my husband tell you to do?"

Bonden shuffled nervously. Plaice oohed and aghed a few times.

"I told them to overhaul my chamber and remove all the clutter." Jack's voice, serious and commanding came from behind Sophie. Its tone said that the matter was closed.

Sophie spun round. "Your chamber? The clutter? May I remind you that this is also my home and these things are my belongings! How dare you let these men go through my private possessions...!"

Jack pulled her forcefully by the arm into the room and slammed the door indicating to the waiting men to "Get on with it!"

"I will not have you speak to me in that manner before my men- do you understand!" Jack bellowed.

Sophie faced him up, anger spots flaring in her cheeks. Stephen shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "You told those men to rifle through my private things! They are clearing out my possessions...!"

"The room was untidy and disorganized. They are merely bringing some order to the chaos you have chosen to live in....it was my express wish..."

"I happen to want those things where they are! I happen to like my life as it is!"

Jack pulled a face. "You like living in a pigsty? Good God, Sophie...it's one thing admitting that you can't cope with the day to day running of a house but it is quite another to want to live in squalor! Organisation, cleanliness, discipline - these are the foundation stones of the navy routine and of any decent life..."

"I am not in the bloody Navy! This is my home and I don't want a group of rough, smelly men poking about in my drawers...and you can take that anyway you like, Jack Aubrey!"

Sophie ran from the room and back to her bedroom where the sounds of her slinging the men out forcibly could be heard. To their protestations of, "But...the captain said...!" her stinging answer came back ringing through the house:

"You can take the Captain's orders and STICK THEM UP HIS ARSE!"

Jack's eyes widened and his mouth tightened in rage. Stephen placed a hand to his head and then stood up, unsure whether Jack might be so enraged that he would lay ungentle hands on his wife. But that was one course of action Jack would never have taken. Instead, the redoubtable Aubrey merely stormed out of the house, saddled up a horse and rode off without a further word.

Dinner was a miserable affair. The men ate in the kitchen while Stephen and Sophie faced each other in silence across the polished dinner table. Even in the dim light of the candle, the doctor could see the evidence of Sophie's tears in her puffy red eyes and the constant blowing of her nose. He was unsure exactly what his place was here and decided that perhaps some distance might be better for the night; they would both dwell on their words and in the light of day might be more prepared to listen to reason. Tonight emotions were running far too high.

After the meal was cleared away, Sophie excused herself and quickly returned to her chamber; Stephen contemplated an early night but decided that he had better go into the town and check on Jack's whereabouts. He could be very unpredictable if allowed to give full rein to his passionate nature when already in a state of choler.

With Bonden as a companion, leaving the two older men to get some rest, Stephen walked the four miles into Petersfield and found Jack very easily. He was in The King's Rest embroiled in a card game with a few of the local gentry and was both drunk and losing heavily. The doctor diplomatically disengaged his friend at an appropriate moment and managed to steer him, by now staggering and almost insensible, out into the night air and into a cart they had hired to drive him home.

The chilly night air woke Jack Aubrey from the stupor he was in as did the rattling and bumping; the old farm cart hit every pithole and stone on the path and shook him violently.

"Where the fuck, am I?" he shouted belligerently. 

"On your way home. You are drunk and incapable, Jack, and I would advise you to go back to sleep..." Stephen muttered.

"Where's my bloody horse?" Jack bellowed.

"Your horse? I'm riding it, you fool. And you're damned lucky that you still have it! Do you know what you lost tonight at the tables? Two hundred and fifty guineas - and you couldn't cover it! I barely talked my way out of there on your behalf. Expect a visit in the morning from their agents, demanding a promissory note!"

Jack groaned and sank back to the bare wooden boards and let sleep claim him. Back at the house, the men hauled Jack into his study where they set up a bed for the night. There was no way Mrs. Aubrey would have allowed him to share their marital bed in that state even had they been on speaking terms.

Which they clearly were no longer on.

As Stephen had suggested, the creditors did not waste time in claiming their winnings. Two men rode into the courtyard early the next morning and asked to see Captain Aubrey. He was still asleep. Killick asked them to wait in the parlour and fetched Mrs. Aubrey who had just entered the kitchen, her nose in the air and her frosty manner back. She went through to speak to the visitors.

"Gentlemen?"

The two fellows exchanged lascivious glances at the sight of the beautiful young wife. They were both rough and ready men, estate stewards both, who had been sent to be heavy handed in recovering the money if necessary and were not beyond using their intimidating presence to bully a woman.

"Your husband owes us a large sum of money and we are here to claim it...in cash, notes or...property if necessary, my lady... begging your pardon...I think perhaps we should discuss this with your husband..."

Sophie turned to go and see if Jack was indeed present, extremely perturbed at the turn of events. At the door, she turned back. "The sum of money...how large is it?"

One of the men cleared his throat. "Three hundred guineas, ma'am, if you please..."

"THREE HUNDRED GUINEAS?" Sophie gasped. "How...how did my husband incur this debt?" she asked bewildered.

"At the tables, Mrs. Aubrey. The past evening. Luck was against him, ma'am..."

"GAMBLING?" Sophie gasped. The enormity of the debt had already shaken her but to think that he had lost such a sum at cards in one night seemed unthinkable - especially in their current state.

Just then Stephen, alerted by the horses outside and having been informed of the nature of the visit, entered the parlour and placed a hand on Sophie's arm. "I will deal with this, my dear...do not worry..."

He steered her gently out and then closed the door. "What kind of men are you that will demand gambling debts from a young wife? When Jack Aubrey hears of this you better not to be anywhere in the county! Here is the damned sum..." and he thrust a note into the hands of one of them. "It is drawn off my bank in London. Two hundred and fifty guineas. Not three. I was there. If you wish to make something of this, sirs....?"

The two men shook their heads and looked sheepish. Aubrey had a reputation and there were several sailors about the place. They might have been tough men themselves but everyone knew what navy men were capable of if angered and there was always the possibility Aubrey might decide to take his revenge by pressing them one dark night. Such things had happened before. "That will be quite acceptable, sir. And we wish you good day. Our regards to Captain Aubrey and his lady..." They withdrew and made their exit quickly aware of the hostile eyes of several sailors who were loitering outside.

Sophie has left the parlour shaking with rage and went through the rooms until she found Jack still stretched out on the couch in his study, snoring loudly. She stormed up to him and kicked his leg sharply; he woke with a loud grunt.

"Where did you go last night?"

Jack sat up and put his hands to his head, moaning. "Can you keep your voice down, madam?"

"I asked you a question! Where were you last night?"

He raised his head and fixed her with his piercing, if somewhat bloodshot, gaze. "None of your damned business!" he retorted.

"I know where you were, you selfish pig! You were throwing our money away at the tables. Three hundred guineas in one night! That is twice what I had to live on a year! How could you? How could you? What are we to do? We shall be paupers...lose our home... be thrown out on the streets!"

Jack growled in anger. "They came here demanding money? The damned blackguards..." he stopped as his head throbbed and his dry throat caused his voice to crack. "Sophie...do not worry...our fortunes are vastly altered. My prize money has been released by Chancery and I am now an extremely wealthy man. That sum is a mere trifle to us now..."

But his explanation did not appear to make his wife feel any more composed. "Altered? You did not think to mention this to me last night when you arrived? When was I to be told of this new situation? And furthermore, you will have to be a very wealthy man indeed if you plan to waste hundreds of guineas every night. How long will you remain a man of substance if you insist on gambling? Perhaps you could try to learn the game in future and stop allowing yourself to be such a dupe for any crook who wishes to fleece you!"

Of course Jack knew she was right on both counts. She should have been told and she was correct in her assumptions about his lack of skill at cards. But a man with a violent headache and a hungry belly is not always best confronted with the truth. It only made him even more cantankerous than ever. "I would have been most pleased to have informed you, had you shown the least interest in listening to a single word I said. Instead you attacked me in a way wholly unladylike and abused me like a fool before my men. And for your information, madam, the disposition of my wealth remains - and shall always remain- in my hands. Should I wish to dump the entire fortune into the Solent then I shall do so and you shall merely nod your head and say 'Well done, Jack'. Do ye smoke me, madam? There will only be one master in my home...and it shall never be you!" 

Sophie listened to his tirade, clearly somewhat intimidated by the force of his anger, but still holding her head up proudly. When she did reply, her answer surprised him.

"You say our fortunes are vastly improved? That we are no longer living from hand-to-mouth?" She asked him quietly.

Jack nodded briskly and ran his hand through his hair to neaten it up. "Just so. We are now out of the mire we were in. We can begin to restore this house and entertain. You can buy elegant dresses and drive in your own carriage. I was hurrying home to bring you this news. And to tell you...." at that his voice dropped but he made himself carry on, "...and to tell you that I swear there will be more where this came from. I intend to win more prizes and make my name so that you shall have everything that a man can give to a woman..."

"Oh....Jack..." her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh...Jack....' he sat looking up at her, his face contorted with regret at the way they had both behaved. "You already give me the best a man can give....think you I care for jewels and fine clothes? It is you I love. I would live with you even in a humble cottage!"

Jack smiled and stood up, taking her hand and kissing it. "That is why I love you so. You are like no other woman. You make me feel so worthy in your eyes..." It was a singular moment of peace while both recalled with vivid memories what had brought them both together and how they had missed the other in his months away. Tugging gently on her hand, he drew her against his body and bent to kiss her, a tender meeting of their lips, the first real welcome that either had extended to each other.

"Dear Jack!" Sophie murmured as he nuzzled her neck and nibbled on the soft flesh below her ear. "You must eat something! I fear I have neglected you woefully. But, Jack....please...no more reckless gambling with money! I abhor such things. If you wish to waste your wealth then give it to some poor man - do not simply swell the coffers of some rich and corrupted so-called gentleman!"

He smiled at her kind heart but refrained from explaining how such denial of himself at the gaming tables scarce befitted a gentleman and could not be avoided in the world in which he lived. She could live in her Utopia but he did not have that leisure.

They went into the kitchen and Sophie fussed over him while Killick served him a hearty breakfast , although there was some whispering about his style of cooking. Sophie was horrified by the amount of dripping that Killick used but the stubborn seaman was obdurate and Sophie relented for once, determined to have it out with him later in private. She would not have Jack's body abused with such unhealthy methods of food preparation.

It was into this newly discovered harmony that Stephen Maturin dared to venture, having imagined that this  recent incident would have set Jack and Sophie even further apart than ever - and yet the very reverse appeared to have taken place. There he discovered Jack sitting in the remains of what was clearly a very substantial breakfast with Sophie at his side, pressed against him as they drank coffee and talked quietly. At the arrival of their guest, they both sprang apart with smiles on their faces and Sophie called for Killick to see to the doctor's meal.

Stephen filled Jack in on the details of the visit of the two bailiffs and the captain was extremely angry at what he heard. He, of course, speedily reimbursed his friend with a note directing his bank in London to put right the debt but also swore to make his feelings known to the squire who had sent such low dogs to bully money from a lady. It was evident that he would not let this insult to his wife pass.

After their late and leisurely breakfast, Sophie withdrew to attend to lunch and dinner arrangements leaving the two friends alone. They discussed the sorry events of the night before briefly and Jack assured the doctor that everything was now back on an even keel. "Sophie is a little fragile and I do believe she may be brooding for a child. I swear to do my part in that regard but, would you take a look at her? I'll ride into town with the others and see to a few matters to give you the run of the place. Coax her into an examination and see if all looks as it should down there...seems more than satisfactory to me, but, the workings of female anatomy are the very devil...please say you will, brother?"

Stephen scratched at his wig and looked unconvinced, but promised to raise the issue with Sophie although he was not hopeful that he would gain her consent to such a thing. It was singularly embarrassing for a woman to have to submit herself to the kind of examination required, particularly if the doctor in question was an old acquaintance. But he would at least suggest a few other physicians she might consider if she would not allow him to conduct the visit. Jack seemed satisfied with that and left shortly afterwards with the other men.

Jack had a few calls to make. The first was to Liss Hall, to address Sir Jacob Fanshawe, the gentleman who had benefited from his bad night at cards. For this visit, Jack had donned his uniform, aware how the trappings of his office gave him a distinct advantage on such occasions. There Jack gave full vent to his rage, informing Sir Jacob in no uncertain terms of what he would do in future should such an insult reoccur. Sir Jacob took one look at Jack in full flow, thought better of his initial notion to call him out, and instead apologised profusely for the misunderstanding, promising to have the two wretches soundly beaten and extending an invitation to his forthcoming ball to Captain Aubrey, his dear young bride and Doctor Maturin, whose scholarship Sir Jacob had heard so much about.

Well pleased with the outcome of that, Jack took himself back to Petersfield where he had it in his head to buy something special for Sophie. First he went to the jeweler's where he chose a necklace of sapphires with matching drop earrings and then he decided that he would buy a length of material in some vivid blue to set off Sophie's eyes. Some silk perhaps? Then she could have a gown made for the ball. How she would love a new outfit!

With these purchases made, he wandered along the streets, his men behind like unwilling beasts of burden while he was still eager to squander money on his girl. First he bought some fragrance from an apothecary's shop, then a posy from a florist's and finally he found himself idly window shopping at the hat shop, wondering if she would also like some new ribbons and a few bonnets. And then he saw it. The card in the window of the milliner's shop.

In horror he read the legend:

For minutes he stood, almost unable to believe his eyes, his face set in an impenetrable mask. Barking to his men to stay outside, he pushed open the door of the shop, his bulk, made even larger by the golden epaulettes of his uniform dwarfing the tiny premises more used to ladies and their maids. Mrs. Emily Greene, the proprietress, came bustling forward delighted to see such a distinguished gentlemen and officer in her humble shop. No doubt he was looking for a gift for some lady he was courting.

"How do you do, Captain! What may I do for you?" she exclaimed with delight. Her girls in the back peered round wide eyed at the sight of such a handsome and imposing man.

"You know me?" Jack demanded curtly.

"Well...not as such, sir...but you are clearly a Captain from the cut of your jib..." Mrs. Greene made an attempt at naval humour but the gentleman appeared extremely sour-faced. "Is there anything I can get for you, sir?"

"As a matter of fact there is. You can take that damned card down out of the window! How dare you advertise my home as some sewing shop!"

"Sir?" The lady asked bemused.

Jack stormed to the window where he helped himself to the card and returned with it in his grasp. "This! This abomination! How long has it been there?"

Mrs. Greene looked at the card. "Why...a month or so. Mrs. Aubrey has had a few commissions...her work is highly recommended..."

Jack glowered and something in his manner made Mrs. Greene's voice trail off. "There will be no more 'commissions'. Do ye smoke me, madam?" His voice bounced off the narrow walls and was so loud that one of the little seamstresses fell off her stool in shock and another began to cry.

"I understand. May I know your name, sir?" Mrs. Greene faced him defiantly. No man was going to speak to her like that and not give his name.

"Aubrey. Captain John Aubrey. His Majesty's ship Surprise..." And on that note he turned on his heel and strode our banging the door on its hinges in temper.

Within the women looked at each other. "Lah, but I wouldn't like to be Mrs. Aubrey when he gets home! Who would have thought she was the wife of a gentlemen. His reputation will be ruined in the county!" Mrs. Greene cackled. She always enjoyed a good piece of gossip and this one would set all the women of the district talking.

"My dear...I wonder if we could just go into the parlour for a while and have a little chat?" Stephen approached Sophie hesitantly. She glanced up from the gown she was working on and smiled sweetly. Her reconciliation with Jack appeared to have improved her demeanour no end; perhaps it was a good time for this discussion.

"Yes, Stephen! What it is?"

Stephen affected a scholarly stance, hands behind his back, and his best bedside manner to the fore. "Your husband has appointed me as the family physician and as such has asked me to undertake a formal medical examination of...your person. You are a young woman and he thinks that it might be beneficial were you to pass a detailed physical before you both embarked on the matter of conceiving issue...."

Sophie tilted her head and looked at him, biting her lip in thought. "Let me get this right, Stephen. No more beating about the bush, eh...?-although that might be a singularly inappropriate metaphor here. Jack wants you to examine me because he is wondering why I haven't got pregnant after six weeks of - to put it bluntly- round the clock rogering. Naturally Jack believes that I have some problem. Is that the truth of the matter?"

It was difficult to tell if Sophie was calm or merely concealing her anger. Stephen merely nodded and mumbled. "That is more or less the whole of it, ma'am..."

She sighed. "You want me to strip off while you poke around my fanny looking for evidence of infertility that I am rather sure you wouldn't be able to cure anyway...?" The use of the word 'fanny' passed him by completely. It was nothing but a lady's name to him at this date. But Sophie went blithely on. "I don't suppose you have asked Jack to submit to an examination? Check if he's got VD or genital warts or asked him for a sperm sample so you can test how fast his little fellas can swim? Oh dear me no! Captain Aubrey is such a MAN that of course he must be POTENT. Well, he may be firing blank cartridges, doctor. Has that ever occurred to you both?"

Stephen struggled to grasp her words. "Er...well, of course, it can be on occasion a fault of the male...."

"Yes... it can....and often is. But rest yourself. Captain Fantastic is probably spouting spermatozoa worthy of Moby Dick himself for all I know....the answer is much simpler. Why have I not conceived? Because I am using a contraceptive. I take it that you can construe the meaning of that word, doctor?"

Maturin paused and said. "Agh....yes...contraceptive...Yes indeed, madam...but...if I may inquire....surely...surely...Captain Aubrey would have detected something during congress in that case?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Not unless he sees into time release chemicals in my blood..."

"I beg your pardon?" Stephen asked, his scientific interest piqued.

"I've said too much..." Sophie was angry with herself.

"Please....go on...."

"I cannot, Stephen, I must not.....this is information that you must not know. It might change the fate of humanity..." Sophie protested grandiosely.

"Why? Do you have the ability to explain the practice you have used in detail to me that I might recreate it?" Stephen asked intelligently.

Sophie smiled, understanding him immediately. "Of course not. Haven't a clue what it is or how it works, just that every few months I..." and she sat down and told him of the wonders of Deprovera and why she had not had any menstruation while using it. As far as she knew she was way past due for her next shot and expected to probably start bleeding soon. She always got moody and highly strung when her levels of hormone dropped and as she could not have another one here...she expected that normal fertility would soon be restored. Stephen was fascinated and asked her many questions, quite forgetting his original purpose.

"My dear...I shall tell your husband that the examination gave me no cause for alarm and I shall then give him some nonsense about relaxing and not being so over-anxious and allowing nature to take its course..."

"Well, I intend to put the wind up his sails," Sophie retorted. "I'm going to tell him that he must be firing duds. See how he likes to think he's not all in one piece..."

Before Stephen could suggest to Sophie that she approached the matter more delicately with Jack, the front door burst open and he came striding in followed by his men. "Sophie! My study. Now!" he commanded.

Sophie ran into the hall, saw Jack enter his study and caught the look on his face before looking blankly around her for explanation. Bonden and Plaice looked embarrassed for her, but Killick had on his face a rather sneering smirk. The young woman threw back her shoulders and stepped forward into her husband's study, closing the door.

"What's going on, Jack? You sound in a fearful hip..."

"Hip? Hip? I am past hip by a very long way. WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"

He threw the crumpled card on the table before him and stood hands on his hips, breathing heavily. Sophie had a sudden mental image of a bull about to charge. It did not raise her confidence.

Picking up the small square, she scanned it and frowned. "It is an advertisement. I was short of money, as you know, and I decided to put my sewing skills to good use. I have made quite a few gowns and earned a sum of money..."

"You have done what? What kind of insult is this? My wife has been making clothes for the ladies of the area? Have you no idea of what is fitting for a woman of your station? How the entire county must be mocking us behind our backs? What in God's name made you think that this was a wise course of action?" Jack bellowed at her.

"But....but...I did it to help and support us! I had no money! What was I to do? Starve?" Sophie asked in amazement.

"If necessary, yes. Better that than lose your good name! You could have borrowed money from someone... run up debts..."

"Borrowed? Debts? Gamble like you, perhaps? What kind of crazy logic is it that berates a woman for her profession but praises one who goes cap in hand and begs - or simply cheats tradesmen?"

"Profession? There is only one profession open to a woman, Sophie..." Jack ignored her comment and went on the attack.

"Meaning?" Sophie hissed back.

"Whoring. You know that. A woman of the lower classes may work - but a lady? If she needs to earn she earns on her back - and anything else she does is tantamount to the same..."

Sophie took a step forward and slapped his face soundly. Jack caught her hand and dragged her to him. "Never lay hands on me like that, lady...." he spat in her face.

"No?" She took her other hand and slapped the other side of his face and then raised her knee dangerously. Jack stepped back, narrowly avoiding her contacting his groin. "How dare you, you little vixen...!"

"I dare! I dare! You.....hypocritical....beast....you...impotent...dog....you absolute bastard!"

"Impotent?" Jack asked.

"Yes...Stephen suspects the fault in conceiving a child lies not with me...which means....oh great mighty Captain Aubrey...that you are the one with no powder in your cannon..."

"We'll see about that, you damned hussy...." Jack roared.

He grabbed her hand, she took a swing at him; he swept her off her feet and threw her bodily over his shoulder ignoring her screams of temper and the blows she was raining down on his broad back. Out on the hallway, he shouted. "Get out of here....the lot of you!' before running at the stairs and taking them a few at a time.

In the relative privacy of their bedroom, he threw her onto the bed and jumped after her, straddling her as she writhed and bucked, trying to get away.

 "You touch me...you touch me and I shall...I shall...."

"You shall do what?" he sneered.

"I shall stab you when you are asleep!" Sophie screamed.

"And I shall stab you when you are awake....and you shall enjoy it...or God damn you!"

He sank his weight on to her lower half and ripped away her dress to bare her breasts. Running his hands provocatively over the magnificent orbs that rose and fell in her wild temper, their nipples peaked in frenzied arousal, Jack leaned back to free his straining prick from his breeches. She saw her chance and squirmed onto all fours, attempting to crawl away across the bed and escape. Jack lunged after her, felling her with his bulk and then hauling up her skirts to rip at her bloomers and drag her by her leg to where he wanted her.

Sophie slammed her elbow into his ribs and he swore in temper. Taking a hand he clamped it to her face, trying to force her to kiss him; instead she bit his lip and then, as he put his hand up to the injury, she scratched his face. Jack merely laughed cruelly. "First blood to you, hey, madam? The next strike will be mine!"

As he pulled her across the bed, Sophie drew her legs up and paddled furiously, hitting and punching him but it only seemed to fire him on more as he rode the barrage. He ripped at his own clothes and hers until she was wearing just torn rags, her hair spilling down her back, her face white with fury. Jack was wearing his shirt loose, his breeches discarded and his own hair hanging about a face that was red with effort and streaked in blood.

Picking up his wife, he rolled her beneath his arm and pressed her against the wall, face to the paper. "I should have done this when I first got home and there would have been none of your backchat and nonsense. This is what a woman needs to keep her in hand!" he gasped as he thrust her legs apart and ran his hand between them. "See! You are as wet as any little whore at the thought of me..."

Sophie whimpered but he noticed all at once the fight go out of her. He had the sudden image of a beaten animal who simply accepts its fate. His wife was crying softly to herself and grasping vainly at the wall as if searching for something to anchor herself upon while he attacked her. He looked in horror at her sprawled in this humiliating pose before him, her pale skin red where he had manhandled her.

"Christ Almighty, what am I doing?" he gasped as he let her go and she slithered to the floor sobbing. He watched as she scrabbled for the remains of her clothes to cover herself, and hid her face in her hands. "Sophie...Sophie..."he pleaded.

"Go away...you're an animal! I hate you! I don't even want to look at you again!" she whispered.

In shame, he backed away and looked for his own clothes, dressing in silence, all thoughts of taking her violently gone. When he was done, he stood by the door, hat in hand. "I don't know how that happened. I have never behaved in that fashion to any woman in my life. I cannot explain or excuse myself. Please, Sophie...forgive me...I can't live without you..."

"Just go...just leave me alone..." was all the reply he had.

"Must I leave you? Is that what you wish? That we live apart? I will provide for you whatever you decide. But know this. Whatever I am guilty of...I love you. And it is that love that drives me to this distraction and takes away my capacity for rational thought. Small compensation for my brutish behaviour, I know, but..."

And to his complete and utter astonishment, his wife simply rose from the floor and ran into his arms. "Jack...don't go...don't go...I love you, I love you, I love you...I'm sorry....I didn't know...Oh your poor face...!" She showered him with kisses as she swept back his hair and cried and rambled  on in frantic fashion.

"Oh Sophie...I didn't mean to hurt you...but I was so incensed..."

"I thought to help, not to shame you! I have so little knowledge of your world. I keep making mistakes and I don't blame you for expecting me to be a more suitable wife...I don't know how! I just never see the protocol...."

"...I am too harsh on you. I am a beast. No man deserves such a wife as you..." Their tender blandishments turned to senseless ravings and they kissed and held each other. Jack eased off her torn dress and picked her up, this time carrying her tenderly to the bed where he lay her down before pulling off his own clothes and tumbling in after her.

She opened her arms to him and he fell into them, the relief of the soft haven of her longed-for body making him almost tremble to be joined with her. Kiss after deep kiss they exchanged while their bodies tussled again, this time to be as close to each other's flesh as they could be. His lips found her nipples and suckled, his hands dragged her breasts together so that he could taste both at the same time, so ardent was his desire for her.

Sophie held his head and pressed her breasts deeper into his face until the rough stubble of his cheek grazed the tender flesh and inflamed her ardour further. Her fingers then ran down his body through the soft curls of hair down to the engorged shaft and there she enclosed him in her grasp as he moaned and rolled onto his back allowing her to jerk him to even greater hardness. A drip of pearly moisture seeped through his tiny hole and she bent to lick it and run the point of her tongue into its source, chasing more of his essence. The lewd act made him groan and brought him ever nearer.

His thighs parted and Sophie grasped his solid balls, feeling them tighten as she massaged them to try and delay his coming. He stroked her naked slit with his coarse hand and caressed the tiny bud now swollen with desire as he eased a finger into her plump cunt, dripping in her honey. It was too much for him. Throwing her back, he knelt to kiss her sweetness and lapped her secret place, before falling between her legs, his face smeared with her taste and reaching for her mouth, then pushing in at last, none too gently in his passion.

She was tight, tighter than ever, months since she had been stretched by him and her strong taut muscles clenched until he cried out. Down he pounded against her surging body, deeper, harder, down again and again until he thought he would die of pleasure. In his arms, her body felt like warm wet silk, his scarred coarse hairy skin rough against her softness - but each touch, each thrust seemed to make her more desperate for him. He raised her leg to wrap around his waist and hilted deeper; he knelt and pulled her legs over his shoulders, hands squeezing tight on her tiny buttocks as he ploughed even deeper, almost burying himself in her small grasping hole.

He was so close, so close, his brain a swirling frenzy of mad passion, little but the need to rut and wallow in her left. But from somewhere came the knowledge that she needed him to find her ultimate pleasure and his hand somehow found the space between them where his shaft was buried and his thick hair was mingled with her silken curls. There his fingers circled her pearl; it took only the least of attention before she threw back her head and groaned, a lewd throaty howl of pleasure, and the sound was enough to finish him. With one more lunge and a shudder running through every nerve of his body, he shot his long overdue seed deep into her womb, trembling with the force of it, weak with the effort.

Tumbling to lie beside her, aware only of her arms reaching for him and the sensation of love and pleasure and wet and ease, he struggled to return to the now and whisper his love to her. He need not have worried. Sophie was curled like a sleepy kitten purring softly by his side, her hand resting on the damp curls surrounding his shaft. He felt as if he had never known such a sense of utter peace and wondered at the foul temper that had driven him much a short time ago.

"Why were we quarreling?" he thought out loud all of a sudden.

Sophie sighed. "I have no idea, my sweet. This is where we should have been all the while! In bed. Where it all began and where we make our love together..."

"But we are more than just our base needs, Sophie!" Jack insisted.

"Why yes, of course we are, but Jack....when we have spent months apart our physical needs are in danger of driving our rational minds. Once the beast of passion is stilled within us, then we become like lambs with each other and nothing will ever come between us. We must learn this lesson. This must never happen again!"

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling thinking. "Am I really impotent?"

Sophie rolled onto his chest. "I doubt it. I just said that to hurt you, I am ashamed to say. There's nothing the matter with either of us, I'll warrant, that a little time together will not cure...alone....just the two of us. Not Fred Karno's circus and your particular friend..."

"Fred who?" Jack frowned.

Sophie laughed to herself. "No one special...just a saying where I come from...!" she avoided her mistake deftly; Jack seemed to pay it little mind. Something else had occurred to him.

"We are invited to a ball next week. I bought you some things..." Jack leapt from the bed, ran to the window, shouting out to where his men were sitting, having been driven out by their master. "Bonden! Light along with the packages!"

Moments later there was a soft knock on the door and Jack, by now wearing his linens, stepped out to take them. "As you were, Bonden...dinner at the usual hour...and perhaps Killick could fill a bath...I believe my wife and I wish to bathe..." Bonden's face was a picture as he tried to comprehend the mercurial change in his master's mood from such a short time earlier.

Back in the room, Sophie was sitting up in the bed, naked and glorious, her hair tumbling about her narrow shoulders. "Jack...about the sewing..."

He held up his hand. "Do not do it again. I know you meant well but it would be less of a shock to the narrow minds of this county had you taken a lover. That is the way of things on land. People are so full of false notions of propriety. I do not wish to speak on it again...here...look what I brought for you!"

He placed his gifts on the bed one by one, his smile beaming- he was delighted with himself. Sophie chortled in delight, insisted on wearing all her jewels and then pranced around the room naked, swathed suggestively in a bolt of the blue fabric. Jack lay back on the bed and watched her, his heart singing with joy to see her smile again.

"May I make my own gown?" She asked him serious now.

He guffawed. "Well, of course you may! That is quite a different matter... although I would wish for your lily white hands never to have to indulge in manual work of any form..."

A knock at the door put an end to their intimate moment for Killick and Plaice had arrived with the bath. While it was set up, Sophie retired to her dressing room and then Jack and Sophie sank together beneath the warm waters and this time made gentle love together, peace restored at last.

Later Stephen wondered to himself whether Jack and Sophie in love were not as tedious as Jack and Sophie at war. To have to share a table where the two of them exchange coy glances, fed each other, whispered, held hands beneath the table and even, Stephen could hardly believe it, appeared to be erotically stimulating each other if the movements beneath the table cloth were anything to judge, was quite a trial and disastrous for digestion. He excused himself promptly and left them to it, taking his coffee in the kitchen where he could not but overhear in amusement the complaints of the men coming from the scullery beyond.

"She's a little minx, that one. Got him wrapped round her finger," Killick whined.

"Argghh...that's women for ye..." Joe Plaice observed as he drew mournfully on his pipe.

"You got to say she knows how to pull his horn though. He must have gone at her like a prize bull - and from the squeals I'd say she was lapping it up..." Bonden smirked.

"He's a big man. They like that..." Plaice added authoritatively. The men all nodded wisely. 

"Well, she's a hussy anyways. You know she's taken over his linens now? She handed me this pile all sewn fancy with lace edgings and satin ribbons. Says I, these will never, do, ma'am...sailors won't wear fancy pants. Naval tradition. So she faces me up, bold as you please and says...I have just invented a new tradition, sir! And I'm making him some decent shirts. I won't have him trigged up in that rough and ready fashion of yours. And your stitching, Killick, is abysmal....so I begs to differ and then he comes in all sweet smelling and rogered to his eyeballs and he sez... 'Killick...Don't let me hear you cross words with my wife, ya damned dog. What she says in this house goes....' Mind you, he did have a word later and said he wasn't wearing them on board. He said 'the men would think I'd become a nonce in that getup'. But while she's around...' We know who's the master and commander now, hey?" he tipped his nose knowingly.

"That's women for ye..." Joe Plaice repeated. "If a lad gets his prick seen to he doesn't know what end of 'im is up...and that goes for the captain just like any other man..."

At that moment Stephen intervened. "That's enough, you out there. If the captain hears any of this, there'll be hell to pay. Save it for another day, I beg you."

They all exchanged glances and tugged forelocks in acknowledgment. But it was clear the topic would occupy the lower decks for months to come.

Resplendent in dress uniform with his beautiful wife by his side, Captain Jack Aubrey stepped down from his carriage and assisted her daintily to the ground. Sophie's eyes were bright and she looked quite wonderful in the deep blue velvet trimmed with muslin. Her neck and ears were decorated with his gifts and she wore a brilliant blue feather held by a chain of pearls in the piled up glory of her hair.

"Captain and Mrs. John Aubrey!" the footman announced and they entered the well lit ball room. Many eyes turned to watch them - the women who wished to gaze on the handsome Aubrey of the corn-ripe hair, the men who lusted after his winsome beauty of a wife and the rest who merely wanted to judge for themselves whether the rumours about this seamstress were true. Knives were being sharpened for a fine feast at the expense of the young couple.

Stephen Maturin came forward to join them with Diana Villiers in tow. She was down for the occasion and had left her wealthy but tiresome duke in London for the weekend. The two women greeted each other fondly and went into a huddle to catch up on gossip. Diana groaned when she heard of all the faux pas that her friend had made. "It is all my fault! I should never have left you alone here. It will not be repeated! When Jack sails, you are to come up to London for the season. I insist! We shall spend his money on a new wardrobe for you (by the way, that dress is delightful - you have a real talent for design!) and I shall groom you as befits a woman of fashion and the wife of one of England's most popular heroes!"

Jack pulled a face and decided to warn Sophie of the set that Diana often moved in. But on consideration he realized that is was the set he too mostly mixed with, so as long as she kept the blackguards who wanted to get under her skirts at bay - and he knew Diana would protect her from such unwanted attentions as well as he could- then it was probably a very good plan. If anyone knew the etiquette of society it was the ravishing Diana Villiers.

As the night progressed, Jack and Sophie danced and mingled and few there were unimpressed by the elegant and dashing pair. But when Jack joined the men for a hand of cards (after Sophie duly warned him what would befall him if he lost heavily again), the atmosphere distinctly changed. A few of the older ladies called Mrs. Aubrey to where they were sitting 'in court' and she was put to a thorough grilling. This time she kept her cool and answered politely but without much information, forcing them to drag details from her and mostly giving a simple "Yes, Ma'am!" or "No, Ma'am!" in answer for their pains.

The subject of her sewing finally came up. "I take it that is one of your creations, my dear?" Lady Fanshawe began, her lip curling and eying the other ladies up in glee.

Sophie blushed and opened her mouth to answer but a voice from behind broke in to prevent her. It was Jack himself. "Excuse me, ladies. Yes, I believe my wife did create that beautiful dress. She is a very talented artist. I have always thought it to be most suitable for men and women to have an interest, especially one that involves art and occupies the hands. I myself am a keen violinist. I believe that you, Lady Fanshawe ,dabble with painting and a few of you here are keen on tapestry or gardening....it is a similar interest, wouldn't you say? I was told the Queen of France, God rest her soul, used to make her own frocks...did you know that? All the rage in France, they say..." and he backed away, drawing Sophie with him and back to the dance floor.

Sophie's face was high in colour, delighted by his defence of her reputation and the chance to get one over on the old crones who had made her life such a misery the past months. "Is that so, Jack? Did Queen Marie Antionette really make her own dresses?"

"Haven't a clue," Jack laughed to himself. "Made it all up. But what do those old goats know? They won't best my wife easily now. Don't you worry, Sophie, my girl! Everything changes now. I have a fortune under my belt and there is no better introduction to society than money. You are a lady of substance and they'll quickly forget where you came from, simply wanting to get in your good books. I'll wager that every gossip in the county will have your name on their lips and down on their ball lists for the next few seasons. You, my dear, are the lady of the moment. And I am the current delight of society. The Aubreys. A man to watch - and his lovely and mysterious lady. Now don't say that won't be fun, hey?"

He swept her off into the dance and she moved gracefully in his arms, her head held high and pride rolling from her in waves. There would be lonely days ahead but she would not let him down again. The Aubreys were a force to be reckoned with now!