"How many Articles are there, Jack?"

"Thirty six."

"We should write our own."

"How so?"

"Cos the Articles are for a man o' war... This is a lurve boat..."

"This yacht is not some sort of plaything of yours, madam,"

"No...but you are...Article 1...Lose not a minute...!"

ARTICLE I:  Lose not a minute!

The early evening news was droning on unheard in the background as we returned to the cottage, the last of the supplies and equipment stowed. Jack was determined to leave by the late tide and had spent most of the week preparing and doing whatever it is that has to be done before a long voyage. If I hear the words: "Lose not a minute!" or "Light along with the..." once more I'll jump ship even before we get to sea.

I honestly had tried my best to be helpful, but generally found myself in the way or merely there to 'run for this' and 'go fetch' that or 'find the...' If I didn't jump quickly enough, couldn't understand his stupid seaman's gobbledegook or failed to complete the task to his exacting standards then I was given his 'look'...called a 'lubber' - and I soon hopped to it the next time.

If the truth be known there are two distinctly different Jack Aubreys. One is my sweet and playful lover famed for his manly virility and gentle good humour. The other is a taciturn and formidable warrior who bestrides his deck like a Colossus and who strikes abject terror into me. When he doesn't accidentally make me laugh, that is. I sometimes get a fit of the giggles when he is at his most serious and it annoys the hell out of him. He finds this extremely irritating - which, of course, always makes me worse. So we had spent a rather trying day and he was not in the best of moods.

I think we were both excited to be off at last but also a little anxious as well - and that was affecting our state of mind. It was a very big step for both of us both emotionally and practically. Months alone together in the tiny confines of a yacht could either be a tremendous experience - or a bloody nightmare - and neither of us wanted to do anything that might jeopardise the happiness we had found together already this summer. Jack had never willingly taken any woman to sea before (well, not since he was a priapic lad and then a native woman hidden in the cable tier did not amount to quite the same thing, anyway) He must have been watching me and my clumsy efforts and wondering what had possessed him to take a klutz on board as crew. I know he was also still a little superstitious, too, and women were not lucky on a sea voyage.

Then there were the other consequences of our decision. 

Our announcement had sent shock waves around and had caused rather stunning reactions. I was able to accept it, even if it had hurt, but Jack's position was now difficult and he was caught between two stools. I know he hated to upset any woman and yet whatever he did from now on would have that effect. Some lady would be affronted by his behaviour. So what had begun as a simply desire for us to spend some time alone together and begin to live our future, had remarkably changed the status quo and cast me forever in the role of femme fatale. I felt responsible for that, however absurd it was, and was still a little bruised and saddened at the turn of events. Jack must have felt even more so.

As we did a final check of the cottage and locked and bolted doors and windows, I had a strong surge of nostalgia for this wild, windswept place where we had spent the past two months and fallen headlong in love. It was as if the precious time there might be lost to us forever once we stepped beyond its magical embrace and entered the world outside. Our home already looked a little sad: cupboards bare, fridge empty, all flowers and plants removed. It was desolate and lonely even before we left and it made me ache for how it would be for both of us if we made a mistake and this fragile thing called love should not survive the tempest of our lives.

I know that men and women can fail even when we want more than anything to succeed. Another man had taught me that lesson - and now I live in fear of not remembering to value what I have found.

We stepped outside, both quiet and pensive, while Jack locked the main door and slung the last bag over his shoulder. Hand-in-hand we looked up at the cottage; his arm slid around and pulled me close. With a voice that was low and soft, he whispered in my ear: "One day we will return with many tales to tell. Come...lose not a minute!" I glanced up and he grinned his wide, carefree smile, the one that speaks of his inner heart, when he dreams of white-water sailing and wild elements to tame. I love him best when he is in his own domain and I knew that moment that I was safe with him whatever might befall us: he owned my body, my future and my heart.

He led me down the path at a jog and by the time we gained the jetty, our niggling bad tempers had passed and we were laughing openly, like two children off to spend a day by the beach. With an easy swing, he lowered me into the small boat and rowed over to the yacht, bobbing elegantly in the small bay. Scrambling up the rope ladder, pleased at my newfound aptitude, I busied myself settling in whilst he raised the sails and did a final check. As the anchor was hauled and we began to glide out of our mooring, I stole up behind him at the wheel - and plonked my gift on his head.

It was a dark blue baseball cap, embroidered in gold with the legend: The Captain. He might have changed his gold braid and epaulettes for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt but I would not have him sail without some formal acknowledgement that he was the captain of this ship. And of my heart.

Of course, I placed it sideways on his head.

"Athwartships, Jack. As Nelson would have worn it had he ever been offered a baseball cap!"

His laughter boomed out over the tranquil evening air as we sailed smoothly into tomorrow.

ARTICLE II: Exercise shall be encouraged for all members of the crew, particularly on long voyages...

Early morning somewhere off the Bay of Biscay - or at least that is where I supposed we were. When I gave it any thought that is. Emerging from a heap of tangled bedding, the latitude and longitude of our current position was not uppermost in my mind. I wanted to find Jack. The bed was suddenly cold.

That may have had something to do with the fact that Jack had apparently got up and left the door wide open as he went out - and a breeze was blowing into our cabin from the main deck. I sat up and yawned. It was only seven thirty and we were still at anchor. That man is never happy unless he is footling about with some nautical nonsense. Swinging my legs over the bed, I pulled on a T-shirt that he had left lying about the day before; it swamped me but would do for now. Dragging my stiff body to wakefulness, I ascended the steps above and went looking for him wondering if he had brewed up or whether I should start breakfast.

But he seemed to have vanished. I searched the boat from stem to stern and there was absolutely no sign. Frankly it spooked me. I might feel safe and secure with my new found sea legs but that was only because the presence of Jack made this alien environment desirable to me. For a long scary moment, I clutched at his shirt nervously as I ran about and resisted the urge to panic. Could something awful have happened?

I needn't have worried. Suddenly I heard "Ahoy there!" and a quick glance over the side showed me that all was well. I should have guessed already, knowing Jack's predilection for early morning bathing. He had gone for a swim. I stood on deck, my eye shaded by my hand as I stared into the early morning sun and watched him stroke strongly away from the ship and then, keeping at a distance, begin to circle the boat. The sea was choppy and the current strong so it was a measure of the strength he has as a swimmer that he could so easily manage the pull. I also knew he was strong enough to manage that supporting someone else.

Standing on the rail, I shrugged off the shirt and dived in. The water was cold and made my teeth chatter but I swam quickly forward, aware that to keep moving would soon warm me up. Jack was watching me carefully, treading water whilst I advanced on him. I knew he would never take a chance on any harm coming to me. When I was close he smiled and flipped a wave of seawater across my face, laughing when I spluttered and moaned.

"You whine like Stephen! Come here and warm me up!" He reached out and drew me to him; I wrapped my arms and legs round him and let him carry us both. With strong bobbing movements, he sculled backwards towards the ship, while I clung on, kissing him and trying my best to put him off his stride. He did not falter but his grin showed me that he was enjoying the attention. I stroked back his long wet hair and fondled his thick sideburns and the rough stubble of his early morning face.

"I have saved many a sailor who tumbled overboard but you are the first to reward me with quite such gusto, my dear, although many have fallen at my feet in gratitude!" he laughed.

"I am not a sailor! Have you never rescued some dusky maiden or a captured noblewoman or a siren? Someone who might have wished to thank you more personally...?"

Jack grinned as he hauled me onto the ladder and nudged me rather inelegantly up before him.  He scaled the same as smoothly as a cat. At the top, I handed him a towel - he wrapped it around me and merely shook himself off, standing their naked and golden, rivulets of water cascading down his skin, which was goosed in the early morning breeze. Not that he ever seemed to remark the cold. I ,however, shivered quite pathetically.

Steering me down to the shower, he resumed his narrative. "I have never actually plucked a woman from the deep - except for the numerous times you have fallen in - but I was once plucked from certain death myself by a catamaran crewed by a rather formidable tribe of Polynesian women. Did I ever tell you of that?"

As we took a shower and companionably soaped and rinsed each other, he filled me in on this adventure. "It was a remarkable experience which began with Stephen leaning too far from the cabin windows one night as he sought to view some sea life. One moment he was there and the next he had disappeared and without perhaps enough thought, I dived in after him presuming that the watch would have remarked the accident and my rescue. Unfortunately the scrubs must have been idling and missed the entire performance."

'So there we were, stranded in a bottomless sea with the Surprise sailing on without us. For many hours I treaded water and bore Stephen up but I knew that there was a limit to my endurance and carrying the doctor was only adding to my burden. I did not let him know how desperate was our plight - he was already anxious enough as well as exhausted and suffering from the effects of the cold. By morning, I did not expect we would last more than a few hours and began to make my peace with my Maker, cursing inside at my foolishness that I should come to the end so ignobly..."

"...But you had dived in to save a friend with no thought of your own safety!" I reminded him.

He waved his hand excitedly in the air. "Ah...yes...but it was quite the wrong decision. I should have weighed up the odds and taken the time to go on deck and notify the watch before going after Stephen. Of course he would have most likely have been dead by then and certainly it would not have been possible to locate his position at that time of night. A better decision from a strategic point of view would have been to leave him and not risk the life of the captain..."

I slapped him with a soapy sponge. "You couldn't have done that to Stephen, could you? In the final analysis he means more to you than even your ship - even your life!"

Jack shrugged sheepishly but I knew I was right. Another frailty for me to love! But he was already continuing. "Well, we were fortunate. That same morning a native catamaran came by and plucked us from certain death - imagine the chance of that in a thousand miles of sea?" I took his word that this was indeed a startling coincidence but he was already way past me. Flipping off the shower, he stepped out, found towels for us both and led us down to the galley where I began to prepare breakfast while he continued his adventure. Sitting back on the large wooden chair, he went on:

"These women were a strange lot who were some sort of Amazons. Their cult was that of female pre-eminence but, so Stephen explained to me, such primitive people have a real ambivalence towards men: they seek their aid in fertilising their wombs - but that is all. From then on they become mere playthings, cowed and controlled, dependent on the women for their existence. Certain enslaved men were thought to be too dangerous even for that and condemned to being offered on the altar of their bloodthirsty goddess as sacrifice..."

I gasped at that. "They were after your life?" I exclaimed as I ladled out his mound of eggs and ham; I served myself fresh fruit and a bowl of muesli.

"Not quite, my dear," he intoned as he tucked in heartily. "Y'see...it was my manhood that was the attraction. When we were rescued our clothes were sodden and the party of women took great pleasure in tending to us, stripping us down with great enthusiasm and much chanting in their incomprehensible tongue. When we were laid bare, there was much oohing and ahhing and finger pointing in my direction. I was most offended at their lewdness, which I put down to their never having seen a white man before. Stephen was largely ignored, but then- he has the genitals of a smaller race."

I gave that comment a frown - it was either Jack being intolerably un-PC or some weird notion of his era. On the other hand it might just be his way of saying: 'I've got a bigger dick than he has' without enraging his friend enough to call him out for his insult. It's true anyway- but then there cannot be many men sporting a more impressive tackle than the captain. Jack was off and running.

"So they gathered round to have a better look, seizing me by the arms and tying me to the mast so that I was unable to cover my shame with my hands. I had to suffer the ignominy of these women pawing me, squeezing my muscles, and fondling my prick and balls as though they were prize exhibits in a country fair. Naturally their attentions brought about a natural response and my member was soon raised in salute before all and sundry. No matter of begging or shouting the odds or warning them of the wrath of King George if his emissary should be tampered with, seemed to have any effect."

I had been amused so far but I knew that this was too much for Jack. He is a surprisingly private man and would have hated to be so exposed before others. I shuddered for his predicament.

"What were these women like, Jack?" I asked, enthralled by the story. He poured us out two cups of coffee and settled back to tell me more.

"Passably fair as women go - you know these native women! Few men could resist their blandishments one at a time, but in a pack they were formidable and - I am not ashamed to say - they struck terror into my heart. Their leader was a real island beauty, small and delicate-boned, her ebony locks a wild mass of curls and the red sarong she favoured clinging most sweetly to her voluptuous form. But although she affected a charming smile and dove-like coo when she had a mind, if crossed she would suddenly flare up into a most unexpected violence, hissing and spitting in rage like some she-devil. 

Of the others, the closest to me was her right hand woman, a calm and rational lady who seemed curious but not as threatening. She liked her food and she liked to feed Stephen and myself and was forever presenting us with strange and wonderful concoctions that she had prepared herself. Stephen bade me not to eat of them, but I was stubborn and weak from the lack of sustenance (Stephen's unfortunate accident having taken place prior to our supper). In truth I ate willingly and seemed to have no ill -effects. Seemed, I say. One rather strange condition seemed to occur about the time of these regular feasts, however. I began to suffer from a most engorged priapism - my cock was up like a mast and I was not exactly in a position to do anything to relieve it. I tried thinking of almost anything I could that usually quelled the beast: My mother- in-law, my creditors, Admiral Harte, lobscouse, Miss Amanda Smith arriving at Ashgrove with my love child...but try as I might, nothing did the trick. Stephen was convinced that the food had contained some powerful aphrodisiac and I had consumed a vast amount. He also pointed out that I might suffer an injury if I did not ease the offending member."

The story was too enthralling for words. Jack naked and proud, tied to a mast, fondled by crazed women and unable to protect himself! What a plight! "What did you do?" I asked in trepidation.

"Ahhh, well...I had no choice. After nightfall, as I tried to sleep in the uncomfortable position, still in chains, one of the women was brought to me. There seemed to be some mumbo jumbo involved and a fair amount of waving of charms and goddess effigies but finally she was stripped naked and the others backed away. We were left alone."

"Says I... 'Madam, cover yourself!' but she could not understand. Instead she loosened my bonds and let me free, taking me by the hand to lie on a fur that was spread out on the deck. Before she went any further, she knelt down and seemed to offer prayers up weeping and wailing quite alarmingly as if she was about to be hung. But once this was over, she simply jumped on me, took my cock and rode me like a huntswoman. It was most disconcerting - but at least I managed to relieve my swollen desire and that was at least one boon from the whole sorry experience."

The mental image of Jack forcibly mounted by some woman in a religious frenzy was rather more than I could stand. I threw back my head and laughed. "You are making this all up! You must be!"

Jack shook his head and put on a grave face. "I tell no lies, my dear. It transpired exactly as I say. I was left lying there although no longer in constraints but rather exhausted by the fervour of the lady's singular needs. As there was nowhere to go, I decided merely to catch some rest and hoped that they might leave me be now that this act of congress had been achieved. Not so. I had merely dozed for a short while when I was again woken by hands upon my private parts which were already standing to attention, the effect of the curious herbs no doubt still lingering. This time, the woman in question was a quieter soul, God be praised, who had until then merely sat with a rather fearsome dog whose very existence there in the middle of the ocean on an open craft was incongruous, to say the least. I had thought her mute or addled brained or some such condition but she was forward enough when it came to intimate matters. There and then she knelt down and gave me..." at that he coughed, still uneasy vocalising details of an intimate nature, "...oral attention before offering me the usual completion. I complied as being the better part of valour for the time being. She left satisfied."

"Two women in one night? Bloody hell, Jack, that stuff must have been better than Viagra!" I giggled.

"Not two, I am afraid to say. Deep in the night, I was woken by another woman, one I did not recognise. She was a rather jovial girl and giggled quite alarmingly. She showed her interest in my manhood - which by now was somewhat tender as you might imagine - but it still responded to her naked flesh and the lewd dance she did for me. We did the deed and she was still not satisfied - demanding further personal services from me which I will refrain from describing in detail. Suffice it to say, she was finally finished with me and took herself off still celebrating her triumph with rather unseemly whoops and hollers. Not what one would expect from a lady at all. By then the barrels were empty and I was left for the remainder of the night to sleep and recuperate."

"So these tribeswomen were just after your body? What do you reckon was going on? Were they just horny or was it some religious ritual?" I asked.

Jack hunched his shoulders. "On the morrow, I told Stephen what had happened and he was mightily concerned. He did not believe this was purely an erotic interlude as frenzy and prayer had been involved but he kept his counsel and I spent the day in blessed ignorance. Come late afternoon, however, it appeared that the deck was being rigged for Church and we observed the setting up of an altar and the whole of the sorority of women gathered dressed in what must pass for formal garb among these primitives - naked breasts and thongs about their sex but festooned in skins and native jewellery. At the centre of proceedings were three women. First was the chief whom I had met the day before, her lieutenant wrapped in the skin of some form of leopard and accompanying them was a seer of some sort who appeared to be in a trance, completely raving, and predicting some mumbo jumbo, waving animal bones and a small skull in our direction. She was dressed entirely in green which gave her a sickly and foreboding appearance."

I sat enraptured, entirely convinced that he was romancing and that this story was largely fictional - but still enjoying the telling of it. "What were they about to do?" I gasped.

"Ahhhh....well, at the time, I was completely unawares even when a rather vicious hunting knife was produced and swirled in my direction. Luckily Stephen had some knowledge of their tongue and their customs for he suddenly jumped up and pointed at my prick shouting "TOTEM!" in a loud voice. At that they all fell back in awe and covered their faces. Shortly afterwards we were cast adrift in a small raft and managed to navigate to a nearby island where a few days later the Surprise picked us up...."

"Is that it? Just like that? They let you go after all that build up? Come on...you can do better than that!" I grinned. Jack helped himself to more fruit and grinned back.

"It seems that I had been about to be sacrificed. Or at least my manhood was. Apparently these women choose a man to mate with but once he has fulfilled his obligations then they castrate him to keep him under their control. The mutilated phallus is then cooked and eaten thinly sliced by all members of the tribe..."

I groaned at that. "Gross!"

"Indeed," replied Jack. "I was very fortunate to keep my penis intact and had it not been for Stephen's timely use of the word Totem which means forbidden and is apparently a magic word to them, then I would be half the man I am today. When Stephen later informed me at how close I came, I must admit my knees did give and my bowels loosen...although that could have been the after effects of the food they gave me..."

"Enough detail, Jack," I reminded him. "Do you know...this story all started with you 'rescuing' me from the sea? Are you sure that you want to take on another woman with an obsession for your dick?"

At that Jack smiled and gave a deep grunt. "Methinks, all this talk has woken the sleeping tiger...come to the cabin and I shall show you one of my obsessions. You can be the native girl I plucked out of the deep and I shall be the captain receiving his reward for his act of humanitarian relief."

"Humanitarian relief? Never heard it called that before," I laughed as we adjourned back to bed. I like a bit of fantasy role-play. So does Jack.

ARTICLE III: Prizes... or the lack thereof

We had put in at a rather elegant resort on the West Coast of France, La Rochelle, and I had scooted off on my own to look for some new clothes. I was heartily sick of the shorts and bikinis that I had lived in so far. Jack had muttered something as he was working below the water line on some touch up job as I left. He seemed sufficiently occupied and the sight of him clad only in a pair of rather worn cotton shorts and nothing else, working on a rig, wet and salty, brought a smile to my lips. What a morning! Retail orgasm followed by several forms of bodily ones. My cup runneth over!

I bought a few new items of clothing, mainly casual wear but a few pieces of lingerie from a wickedly expensive boutique. Jack deserved stripping more off me than my washed out bikini. I had a thoroughly delightful morning, stopped off for lunch at a sea food restaurant and wrote a postcard to Maximus who had apparently bought a place in the south of Italy around the Bay of Naples. Wonder what prompted that? Anyway it was fun to wind him up a little. Perhaps we can call in when we are in that part of the Med?

A few hours later, I tripped back across the gangplank and all was quiet on deck. Running down to the cabin, I found no sign of Jack and went to investigate. He was in the small dining area off the kitchen, sitting at a table surrounded by files and papers - and his expression gave me immediate concern. His face was grim and as I skipped up, he began to hastily gather up the documents, stuffing them into a large file and closing it.

"You look busy!" I giggled and began to drop my shopping bags all over the floor, kicked off my sandals and jumped onto his back to see what he was up to. For once he was quite brusque with me, lowering me back to the ground and telling me to settle down.

"Where have you been?" His voice was a little husky and seemed to carry a note of criticism.

"Shopping. I told you I was going to spend some money..."

"You did? I did not hear that. How much have you squandered this time?"

I stopped short at that. "Squandered? What do you mean? I just bought a couple of things..."

"How much did you spend?" He fixed me with a steely gaze; I squirmed a little. I can't remember when I last felt so intimidated - probably not since I was a child at school.

"I don't know," I muttered, blushing. "I just put it all on my card..."

He sat back and threw the pen in his hand down forcibly. I watched it roll off the surface and tumble to the floor. "Ahhh...the card!" Jack joined his hands and rested the tips of his fingers together observing me. I found myself fidgeting and jumping from one foot to the other nervously.

"Jack...stop it! Stop treating me like that! What's the matter? Why can't I spend money? We've got loads of money...haven't we?" Something in his face made me realise that he was worried and I had hit the nail on the head. He stood up and thrust the files he had been working on into the desk drawer and walked out.

At the door he turned and said: "If you wish to spend money in future, consult me first."

"WHAT?" I shouted, but he simply slammed the door behind him. Red rag to a bull, Jack! I picked up my handbag and ran on deck, making for the gangway with a backward shout of: "I'm just going to spend some more money...thought I'd better let you know..."

He moved quickly then, charging after me. "Stop where you are! You do not leave this ship without my permission..."

"WHAT?? What is it - a fucking convict ship?" I ran on, expecting him to come after me but he didn't. Instead he walked along the deck as I made my way along the harbour wall until he reached the stern. "Uma...stop...we need to talk...I apologise...PLEASE! Please..." His voice fell on the second request; I stopped and looked back.

Jack was standing there, head down and hands on his hips. The droop of his shoulders said everything. He was so dejected. Something had really upset him. Turning on my heel, I went back on board, taking his proffered hand.

We sat down on bales under the awning, for the sun was hot and overhead. Most people would be taking a siesta at a time like this. A heat haze shimmered over the sea and the sluggish air carried the lazy sounds of distant laughter, the lapping of wave against bark, the creak of rope and wood. Hardly a breeze ruffled up the sails.

Jack looked out to sea, avoiding my eyes, and ran his hands down his face before addressing me. "I should not have spoken as I did; it was most unforgivable. I am damnably brought low by my calculations on our future solvency. Matters have taken an unexpected turn, rendering me somewhat unable to sustain the standards of a gentleman..."

I tried to make sense of his convoluted speech. "Do you mean we're broke? Is that what you are saying?"

He cleared his throat and looked embarrassed. "In a manner of speaking....I am unable to liquidate sufficient funds to..."

"Why? How can that be? There's loads of money...more than we could ever spend..."

"Ahhh...yes...that was the case...prior to our current situation..."

"That was? Look, I know I get nothing now...but we don't exactly throw it around these days, do we? There's enough in your share for two..."

That is when he began to look really uncomfortable, rubbing his hands down his thighs, scratching his head, fiddling with his hair. "There has been a change of circumstances. My expectations are not the same as they once were..."

Oh, Jack! How I love you! I should have known that his pride and sense of honour would have made him act this way. But to think that he had done this in defence of me! It brought tears to my eyes.

"Nothing? There is nothing left at all?"

He shrugged. "I bought the house, spent a prodigious amount on the yacht and paid it no mind. There would be more where that came from...or so I thought...But now I have fallen on hard times, which is a state of affairs that has been rather more usual in my life than its more pleasant opposite. I am so sorry, Uma...so sorry...I wanted to spare you the worry of all this...but the truth is - I cannot. We are bereft and there is nothing in the pot. Poor as church mice. All I own is here on this yacht and my cottage back home."

"You shouldn't have spoken out, Jack! You should have been more circumspect. There is no reason for you to cut your ties on my behalf!  I do not wish for that, my sweet love. If you wish to visit any one, you know I would never raise an objection..."

Jack stood up and thumped the rail with his hand. "Oh, but I would, madam! Think you that I can merrily trip around like a bantam cock, swaggering from one to the other, knowing that you are ostracised for nothing more than love? The very purpose of the whole damned endeavour? For shame, ma'am, you must think me a shallow scrub that I could behave to my lady in that fashion..."

"Jack!" I pleaded with him. "Don't get on your high horse! I merely thought to assure you that I did not resent your friendships with others. But I am so proud of you for what you have done for me. Money - be damned! We'll make it somehow..."

"How? Exactly how? What can I do in this modern age? Sail the high seas taking merchantmen as prizes? Hire myself out as a privateer? What else is open to me?  I have not one single talent that befits this time I live in!"

I thought for a moment. In some ways he was right. His formidable skills meant little in this modern world. My heart went out to him and, for an instant, I wished I could send him back to where he had a purpose and a name. My eyes filled with tears to see him brought so low and for him to have no way to be the provider, which he so wished to be.

"You know, Jack, I have some money...? It is a very large sum in investments that I have never touched but it is mine and it might as well be used to set us up. You are a seaman- that is what you know. We could buy a maritime business, charter yachts, perhaps a tall ship- you could captain it and..."

He narrowed his eyes and fixed me sourly in his gaze. "From whence comes this money?"

I know he had guessed already. I took a deep breath... "It is mine...he gave it to me and he will not take it back, it is in my name and I cannot..."

At that he simply walked away and left me alone on deck. I had insulted him terribly, even though it had been the last intention on my mind.

For some time, I sat on deck, my legs tucked under me and stared out at the glassy sea. I tried to imagine the mindset of a man like Jack and how he would regard his inability to give his woman the lifestyle that he believed she deserved - especially given the fact that my former lover had kept me like a queen and even settled vast amounts of money on me. I wondered did he worry that I would not love him if he failed to match my former life of ease. I suppose in his day women were mercenary with themselves- their virtue was their only marketable commodity. Even ladies 'sold' themselves to the man with the greatest prospect to ensure that safety and the future of their families. But perhaps things haven't changed so very much after all in the twenty first century? Have you ever known a rich man, no matter how unattractive, who did not have a beautiful woman on his arm?

Does he think that is all I care about? I expect he does. I appear flighty and a spendthrift, love fine things around me and have always chosen the façade of the society girl as a convenient front for my real self. I thought that Jack had seen through to the real me but perhaps his radar was still set on another age when even the best of women had to look to the future. Or had he perhaps been made to think that I was shallow enough to throw him over if he proved to be a less than a satisfactory meal ticket? That hurt more than anything else.

Finally I forced myself to confront him, although I knew I was intimidated and unsure what to say. He was down in the cabin, putting away the best of a bottle of brandy. His back was to the door and he did not acknowledge my entry, merely swigging deeply from the bottle and wiping the back of his hand across his face.

I stood awhile but he still did not turn round. "What do you want? Do you seek to persuade me that I am a fool to refuse your help? If so, then save your breath - I will not change my mind. I will live off the wealth of no man save myself.  If you want his money then that is your choice. But you make your decision - here and now!" I had not heard this Jack before. My sense of displacement grew. I simply could not believe how different he was, his voice hard and his face set in a cruel expression. This is the Jack seen by sailors who crossed him; this is the man who could strike terror into hardened men. I was shaking before him and had no idea how to deal with his response.

All I knew was that I somehow had to reach him, that wonderful man inside who loved me.

"Jack - please look at me! I can't stand this!" The words simply blurted out of my mind but at least they made an impression. He spun around and I received the full intensity of his gaze. "I want to explain. Please let me explain. I didn't mean it in the way you took it."

He said nothing by way of reply but just let his blue ice eyes pierce me. I took that as a sign that he wished me to continue. "The money is mine. Where it originated is insignificant. Just as this yacht, purchased as a gift for you....is now yours. I do not expect you to return everything anyone ever gave you..."

"Do you wish to un-man me? Is that some modern nonsense of so-called liberated women to keep a man beneath her thumb? I will not be crossed in this matter, Uma. It is an insult to me as a gentleman and an officer to suggest that I might allow a woman to provide for me!"

"Sophie often bailed you out when you could have gone to debtor's court- and all you could do was run to sea! Leaving her to fend off the creditors and other leaches you had foolhardily gone into business with..."

At that he rose to his feet with a sudden surge and bellowed. "Watch your tongue, woman! She was my wife and I went to sea to save us. How else was I to win the fortune that I finally presented her with? We both had our roles and...." He paused and I sensed he was going to fight dirty. How like a man. "And...she did not earn the money on her back. Do you think me a procurer?"

I slapped his face, the sound reverberating around the tiny cabin; he rode the blow and did not flinch although I could see the red mark flare up on his skin. But I had hurt myself more - my hand was numb and my heart was aching. How could he have said such a thing?

"How dare you! I had a long term loving relationship with a man. I was not his whore! I am not your whore either! How dare you make that assumption! Turning on my heel, I stormed off, slamming the cabin door behind me.

On deck, I paced back and forth, stamping my feet and raging at his unfairness and his judgemental attitude. Why do men do that? Love you and then make out that you are just a tart when it suits them. How could he have spoken to me like that? I had begun by feeling ashamed of my insensitivity but now I had radically changed my point of view. My offer may have been ill-judged but it had been kindly meant and did not deserve to be regarded with such intolerance.

Just then I heard footfalls on the steps leading up from below. I moved away, far from ready to have any further conversation.

"I am sorry.  I should not have spoken thus." Jack's voice, suddenly contrite sounded behind me.

"No, you should not have," I replied sharply.

"If I may speak?" I shrugged my shoulders as if I didn't care one way or another. He took that as an invitation to proceed. "I cannot live on the wealth given to you by another man. It shames me, Uma...it is the way of my world. It is my duty...my honour to take care of you and give you everything - but I no longer have the means to do that. I am useless! An anachronistic old antediluvian with nothing to offer a woman such as you. When I think of what you had...?"

"Jack!" I spun round. "I don't want what I had! Don't you understand that? I loved another man in my past - but it didn't work out. Time passed and I fell in love with you. YOU! I would rather live in squalor with you than splendour with any other man. Of course I don't like being broke- who does? - As I had money in my bank I thought that it seemed crazy not to use it. But if that is a problem for you - then it simply doesn't matter. I will never ask for more from you than what I have. The only thing I demand is that you accord me the same respect that I accord you. You loved Sophie. You loved Ann. I understand that. I have had past lovers too and they still hold a place in my heart just as yours do for you. But you are my Jack! My true love. I would not lose you for any other man...."

He stepped towards me at that point and we stood looking at each other. His hand stretched out to push away a stray tendril of my hair. His lips were pursed and he looked chastened in that way he has of appearing like a boy who has been caught stealing apples. "You deserve a life of ease. I wished to be the one to give it to you. But I was never much good at looking after my women...you are right...look how Sophie suffered on my account..."

"Jack!" I shook him slightly, my hand resting on his upper arms. "Sophie was happy in her lot. She was so proud to be your wife! As I am happy in my lot and to be your woman now. We all deserve better than we have been granted- you most of all men. But the simple fact remains - this is our life now and we must make the best of it. I have no idea how we shall manage - but I know this: we shall manage - of that there is no doubt! Until then we must live simply and put our heads together to find something that we can do. Together."

He sat down and hung his head, his golden locks falling over his face; he swept them back angrily. "If I cannot provide for my woman, I do not feel like a man!" he muttered the words through gritted teeth.

I knelt before him and held his face in my hands. "Jack Aubrey! You have known despair and triumph equally in your life - and you will face them many times again! It is the mark of a man not that he succeeds but that he never stops trying. We will face this hurdle, side-by-side, and the victory will be all the sweeter for it. You will never be less than my champion. My hero. My love."

He looked into my eyes and smiled sadly. "My prize..."he whispered, almost under his breath. I stroked his cheek; he bent to kiss my mouth as his arms encircled and pulled me in against him. His lips trailed a soft path to my ear and he spoke: "I am a prideful man. Forgive me!"

His confession made my heart sing and made the earlier cruel darts almost worth it to know that it was the opposite he really felt. "Ah yes...but what a man!" My hand slipped down to cup his manhood gently and squeeze his sturdy bulge in my small palm. "This is what makes you a man. Here..." and I lifted my other hand to rest over his heart. "...And here. These are the organs that make you a man and both are mine, freely given but beyond price. As my heart and body are for you. What else matters if we still have each other? Now we are left with nothing in our way but the clarity of love. True, real love without strings."

Jack let forth a low groan, like the purring of a great lion, as he rocked me in his arms. "I love you...do you know how much I love you and that it is my wish to make you happy all your days?"

I curled up on his lap and let him hold me in his large hands, gentling. "Then you have already succeeded...except when you are driving me to distraction with your pig-headed stubbornness!" At that he laughed, one of his deep full-throated laughs that rumbled through his body and mine. He looked out over the sea, shaking his head in some internal dialogue. "We will get through this and live to fight another day. And I swear I will not let you down in the end, my sweet, sweet girl..."

And with that sudden change of mood as unpredictable as the most treacherous of shoals, Jack made his mind up in a lightening flash as he was always capable of doing; decision taking was never a lengthy process for him. His natural fatalism, acceptance of his destiny and the inborn belief that he must either make a mistake or miss the tide, always making him take the risk. So he stood up, picked me off my knees and swept me into his arms, carrying me back down to the cabin.

I lay back and kicked my legs in pleasure, the sensation of his immense strength and how light a burden I was to him, delighting me. "What are you doing?" I giggled playfully as he kicked open the door and then ducked to enter, slamming it closed behind him.

"Indulging in an activity that will cost us nothing but will greatly improve both our moods," came back his retort as we fell back onto the bed. But despite the rather heady state of mind our awful quarrel and the truths we had faced had created in us, this was no madcap sex romp. Jack raised himself above me as I lay below my fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt. Neither of us spoke as he eased away to let me drag it from his shoulders. The words weren't necessary - our eyes conveyed the things we wished to say.

This was a pivotal day for us; we had made a controversial decision that had precipitated this crisis and today we decided to leap together into the unknown without any visible safety net but each other's arms. It was more than enough. The blue sky above and the deep fathomless ocean beneath - and in between? Heaven here on earth.

All that long, hot afternoon in the cool cotton sheets, we loved each other as if we were the only two people in the world. In some respects we were. Naked and unashamed we touched and explored the wondrous landscape of each other's bodies, pleasured each other till we cried out in exquisite torment that anything could be so beautiful as the one we loved.

It is in the private and intimate moments when a man consigns himself into the hands of the woman that he loves, bares his soul along with his body, watches as she tends to his needs, cock hard and proud but strangely vulnerable and exposed. 'This is what I am' he says, 'I cannot hide from you my frailty.' In these moments the future is secured - for trust is there. My lips spoke of his beauty, my mouth worshipped his virility, my body opened to offer him whatever he desired.

But true love is not a one-sided act. Even as I pleasured him, his mouth brought me relief, his hands aroused me, his fingers stimulated every nerve and secret place. Over and over we rolled and bucked in some erotic mimicry of combat, fighting to subdue, contain surrender and reach that Nirvana in the knowledge that nothing that we ever do together is anything but love made flesh.

As he rose above me for the final descent, his magnificent bulk, taut and powerful, dwarfing my slenderness, its sheer size the ultimate aphrodisiac just as my slightness increased his arousal. I could barely stay conscious, so lost in him was I.

I heard his grunts and heavy breathing, felt the drip of sweat, smelt the mingled scents of man and woman, recognised my own helpless cries - all were like drifting sensation, clouds in a clear summer sky, enhancing the mind-altering joy of the experience.

And then the shudder, the warm wet pulse, spasm after spasm, my walls closing on his spouting. Falling back to earth, tumbling, reaching out to cling on to the only security left to us- each other.

"Jack...I love you!" I burrowed closer against his still shaking body.

"Ahhhh....and....I..." but he was inarticulate, as befits a man fully spent.

Neither of us have anything left. 

Until the next time.

ARTICLE IV: Beating to quarters.

I love nights at sea, sitting on deck with an after dinner coffee as Jack does his calculations or makes the most of the wind to cover as much distance as we can before we anchor for the night. Tonight it was clear and fine, the sea a millpond, the sky a panoply of stars with barely a breeze to catch the sails. Jack was frowning and muttering to himself.

"Are we becalmed, Jack? In the doldrums?" I teased.

He grunted and swung back up to his feet, jumping up onto the rail and observing the night. I wondered what he was looking for.

"Why don't we just turn in for the night? Hope for better in the morning? You could play me something or I will read to you - we haven't had a quiet night for ages..."

"...Quiet night? I'm afraid we are in for the opposite. The signs are not good. There is a storm approaching."

"A storm? On a night like this? There isn't even a breeze and the night sky is so clear..."

Jack turned and looked at me with that withering glance he gives to poor unfortunates who fail to measure up. "The night is calm because it presages a storm. Can you not feel the swell even on a still sea? Have you not observed the change of current in the last hour? Do you not know that there is often a period of calm before a storm? Will you never acquire any nautical senses?"

Justly chastened, I tried damage limitation. "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"You need to ask?" came the sharp reply. "Go below and shut down anything that moves, batten hatches, put away loose objects, leave nothing to chance and then- get yourself on deck. I don't want you below when this one blows. I want you where I can see you - God knows what will happen to you if I leave you alone down there!"

Well, thank you, Jack. I felt about two feet tall and about as much use as a snowball in a heatwave. Nevertheless, I gave him an, "Aye, aye, captain,"- which he didn't like- and hopped to it. By the time I had secured everything, the weather had taken a distinct change for the worst. The swell was high and the sky was now obscured by fast moving clouds of purple vehemence and the first spots of rain were falling. I could feel the wind whipping as I went back on deck carrying Jack a mug of hot tea and his waterproof. He accepted both with barely a nod and carried on with his manoeuvres. I wandered off below, unwilling to stay on deck if it was raining. Snuggling down on our bed with a good book, I prepared to catch up on some reading.

The weather worsened. Within a frighteningly short space of time, we seemed to have found ourselves in the jaws of hell. I was lying in bed clinging on, all thoughts of reading long gone - as was the book, that had been thrown with force against the far wall in one of the violent surges. By then I was groaning, my stomach heaving as the yacht pitched alarmingly. I had never felt so sick in my life. I just wanted to close my eyes and die.

The door burst open and Jack lunged through, staggering to keep himself upright against the terrible motion. It felt as if we would simply somersault and then be dragged down to the bottom of the sea. I could hear the raging winds and the thunder of rain upon the deck; one look at his dripping form told me the rest. "I told you to stay on deck!" he bellowed as he made to pick me up. "Have you no idea how dangerous it can be below in this turbulence? One false move and your head would be dashed to pieces against the wood. Did I not tell you to stay on deck?" He raged at me as he pulled me up and flung me carelessly over his shoulder, having difficulty himself staying upright.

"Leave me be, Jack! I am so ill...I cannot bear it...I shall vomit if you move me...let me just lie here and die..." I wailed.

"Nonsense. No one ever died of mal de mer, madam, except those who stayed below in a storm. You need fresh bracing air and a view of the horizon as an aid to steady your balance. And most of all I need to be sure you are safe - I cannot be running around after you in this tempest!" With that he threw a waterproof over me and we went on deck.

If the gale had frightened me down below, the raging torrent of surging wave and thundering storm, obliterating all but its own brutal majesty, illuminated here and there with jagged cracks of lightening stunned me into silence. It was like we were sailing into hell's mouth and all the world had been swallowed up. Staggering against the awesome roll of the yacht, which each toss of mighty wave appeared to be about to go under, Jack deposited me at the wheel casing and before I could fully understand, took a length of rope and lashed me to the column. I stared at him as he bound my wrists none too gently, my mouth wide open with shock.

"Take gulps of air, face head on to the wind and keep quiet," was all he said before he raced back to alter sail and brace. Then he was back at the helm fighting the pull of the current and wind to keep a course that allowed him to go with the wind rather than be forced across or against it. I don't know the nautical terms but it was obvious that this terrible storm would shatter us if we tried to compete with its power. All the while I was sitting in a gathering pool of water, hit by the painful hammering of torrential rain, lashed by the spray of waves too large to measure and tossed to and fro, banging into the wooden column one moment and then jerked forward in a painful whiplash which jarred every bone in my body. And I was still sick. My stomach churned and my guts were like water. I was afraid and helpless and hurting and thought we were going to die. I know that sounds rather melodramatic but frankly that is exactly what I was imagining and, as I felt so awful, death didn't seem such a terrible option to me just then.

"Jack!!! Let me go! You can't leave me here tied up like a dog! I am going to be sick!"

"So be sick,' He shouted in a matter of fact way. "Just make sure you do not vomit into the wind or you shall be covered in it." At that he jumped over my prone form, ignored my attempts to grab his leg and hit him, jumped onto the rail and with a mere boom between him and the broiling whirlpool beneath, he leaned his full weight back to balance the boat as we were hit by a particularly giant wave. I screamed as the deluge crashed onto us and was sure that when my vision cleared I would see nothing, that Jack had been knocked off into the water and would be gone.

But as the spray died away, there he was, saturated to the skin and still forcing himself back, holding the yacht by a combination of weight, skill, balance and sheer bloody mindedness - and he was laughing into the storm, completely elated and defiant, taunting nature to do its worse and he would still overcome it. I felt a surge of fear and pride together at his recklessness and his courage; I also knew instinctively that I should not doubt that he would bring us through to safe waters. Nothing on earth seemed as powerful as Jack's will at that moment.

But I still wailed out my temper. "JACK AUBREY! If you don't let me go this minute, I shall..." But of course I couldn't actually think of anything to threaten that would not be infinitely worse than my present predicament...just let me die peacefully!" I screamed. "I want to go home! Let me off this boat!" I continued in this rather petulant and pointless fashion; Jack continued either to ignore or simply not hear my childish protestations. Finally I had exhausted myself sufficiently and I just lay on the deck and sobbed piteously.

Some time later I felt his hand on my arm as he righted me to a sitting position. "Are you feeling better?" he asked.

"Better?" I croaked. "Lying in a pool of sea water and vomit...probably bilge water too?" 

He put his arm about me. "But you are alive and will live. Can't you feel the lessening of the wind? The swell is decreasing and the boat is holding nicely. That was a mighty struggle as we passed the eye just off centre, the worst place to be..."

"Might we have sunk?" I gasped as I realised that even Jack had been worried.

"Never say that word aboard ship! My God, woman, have you no sense at all? But the answer is no. I was not concerned at that. This yacht is a fine sailer with a sturdy bow, bluff and hearty, but with the delicate handling of a gentlewoman. I pushed her hard but we were never in doubt. But accidents can still happen. People can sustain violent injuries, blows to the head, be washed overboard...I tell you, Uma, had you been one of my men I would have you thrown you over myself and been done with it. If you ever disobey my orders in an emergency again then I will even consider that option. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!"

At that I took the only course still left to me and began to cry. Jack can stand most things but tears leave him completely bewildered. He knelt by me and looked awkward, patting my back rather aimlessly and clearing his throat. "There, there... are we not wet enough, without adding to it?"

I looked up at him and he smiled hesitantly at me. "Come!" Pulling me gently to my feet, he gathered me into his arms and strode back towards the stairs. To me the storm still raged and I could not really judge the lessening of which he had spoken but I trusted that he would not leave the deck if he did not think we were safe for the time being.

Down below he stripped my clothes off, ran a warm shower and nudged me inside. "I have to go back up. Can you take care of yourself? A quick shower and into warm clothes - and then to bed. The turbulent motion is easing and I think you are safe enough. I will be back shortly to check on you."

I assured him I was able to manage and he was not to worry. "Jack? I'm so sorry that I was such a terrible wimp. I'm ashamed of my cowardice and lack of support..."

He smiled. "I have seen worse from men when they witness their first storm. You were not to know what I know. That is why you must simply do as I say and trust me! Do you trust me?" He bent his head close to mine.

I nodded. He kissed my forehead tenderly. "Good girl! Now - bathe and bed!"

"Jack...will you sleep tonight?" I asked as he turned to go.

"I think not. I shall take the watch. No matter."

I realised, as I showered and dried myself, donning warm pyjamas and crawling gratefully into bed that he was still wet and cold and facing a miserable night. He needed a crew member who could do their share - not someone like me who was just a liability. I thought about going back on deck with a hot drink for him, but I decided that he might be angry if I disobeyed his orders again. Exhaustion claimed me quickly - I think I must have fallen asleep still debating whether to help him out or not.

Morning dawned and I woke early, just as the first fingers of light edged across my face. I had slept for six hours. Jack was still not with me and I could feel that we were skimming along at a fine speed over a calm sea with a fair breeze behind us. Jumping out of bed, I pattered up on deck and caught sight of him leaning out over the rail, still wearing the damp clothes from the night before, a blanket thrown about his shoulders as he sipped on a mug of something hot and ate some biscuits. He seemed to be lost in thought and staring out to sea. I tiptoed up and put my arms round his waist to lean in against his solid back.

"You're cold," I whispered.

"Mmmm..." he muttered, "And you are warm..."

He turned and put his arms about me. His eyes were bloodshot and ringed with grey circles; his face looked pallid beneath his tan. I could see that he was thoroughly exhausted and I was worried that he might have caught a chill. "Jack, come down and change, take a warm shower and get some rest..."

He dropped anchor and then quietly followed me down; he stripped his sodden clothes, slipping into the shower while I gathered them up and hung them over the line to dry off. Then I returned as he was coming out to bring him a warm towel and rub him down. "Sleep for a few hours and then I'll cook you a full breakfast." I fussed over him.

Jack turned then and looked at me with a curious expression. Before I could react, he moved and pushed me against the wall of the cabin, kissing me fiercely and raking his hands down my body while his knee parted my thighs roughly and jostled them wider.

In fact, it was quite a shock to feel the full force of his passion and at first I struggled against the onslaught instinctively. But then awareness struck me. This was just how he felt at that moment after the exhilaration of danger and the adrenalin of his battle against the elements. Just as he sometimes picks up a violin to express the sensitive emotions that he cannot verbalise, so this powerful burst of testosterone had been released by the awesome struggle he had fought with nature - and won. It was not that he was using my body as much as responding in an elemental way to the experience. In his time as a sea captain he must have felt this natural urge to release his virile overload after the battle but had had to content himself with drinking himself into oblivion with his officers. For once his woman was at hand and he was able only to acknowledge the fact that we were both alive and breathing in this most primal of ways: like a lion roaring his victory to the heavens.

It was quick and rough. Jack simply tumbled me to the bed, tore away my pants and had at me, his erection hard and relentless as he held me down and grunted his pleasure. He hurt me - not that he meant to - but just that he was too quick. Still I felt a sort of emotional high, different from an orgasm, quite different. I suppose it was a surge of love for him as he rutted helplessly deep inside me, his head hanging down, buried in my neck, and his hands gripping my breasts. I might not be able to sail this ship with him but there was something I could supply in limitless quantities: love in every shape and size, in every way it could be given.

He did not last long, ending in a quiet shudder and a deep moan as he fell upon me. He was completely finished - in all senses of the word - and soon deeply asleep. I was not tired but still I lay with him and cradled his head in my arms as he slept. There are times when he takes care of me and others when I take care of him. It feels like the best part of love.

ARTICLE V: The captain's table should always offer a sumptuous fare to offset the rigours of command.

We were wandering around a market in a small port town to the south of Oporto where we had called for a few days. Our provisions were low and we needed to touch base and do some repairs after the magnitude of the storm and the damage it had wreaked. This morning we had decided to stock up on much needed fresh food and were enjoying the abundant delights of the charming open market. Well, I was, anyway. Jack abhors shopping of any shape or form and was only there because I needed some muscle to carry the stuff home.

Jack Aubrey might like his food but is not interested at all in the purchase of it; he held my hand as we walked along but seemed distracted and bored. I bought fresh fruit and vegetables and some meat; he just grunted and paid for it all, complaining about the cost of everything. Our purse was rapidly shrinking, especially after we had had to shell out for so much equipment for boat repairs.

"What are we eating for dinner?" He suddenly asked me.

"I was thinking of grilling some chicken and making a Greek salad. The olives here are wonderful..."

"Is that all? Must we always eat this paltry fare? We may be reduced but we are not beggars. I fancy a side of beef and a game pie. I see they have a shop selling such fare...let us purchase something substantial...I am heartily sick of fish."

"Chicken is not fish. And we are trying to live on a budget. Which you blew in the wine shop. Why can't we drink the local vino? Those bottles of Burgundy cost a bomb and that vintage port..."

"I cannot be expected to drink that local hogwash. There are certain standards to maintain..."

"But you wouldn't let me buy that dress I saw..."

"You have enough clothes."

"You drink too much."

"I do not. If I remain standing then it is not enough."

"That is such a stupid comment. You say some stupid things, you know..."

"Sometimes I long for Killick in my galley! He was the soul of sweetness and light compared to you, madam - and he never commented on my cholesterol or the amount of saturated fats I was eating..."

"That's because he didn't know the dangers...you better watch your heart..."

"My heart is fine. Don't they recommend a daily helping of red wine?" he retorted in a smug voice.

"Yeah, but not by the gallon though," I snapped back.

"I have lost weight. These jeans are loose," he dug his fingers in his waistband and indicated the slack. "Soon I shall be a shadow of myself."

I laughed. "You, a shadow? Hardly. And a slight weight loss is good. You look great. Tanned, fit and healthy. Really buff. Fancy you myself."

He harrumphed and I giggled at his expression. "I'm not the only one. You've been winning glances all morning from the local ladies. And I know how much you like those Mediterranean beauties...."

"Then be careful, madam, that I don't take one of them up on it. I'm sure a Portuguese lady would know how to feed a man properly..."

I thrust a bag of fruit into his arms at that and stormed ahead ignoring his laughter that he had riled me. And also ignoring the loud and hearty greetings he was now giving to the women on each stall.

"Bom dia! Como vai? Quanto esta?" he shouted.

I turned and laughed as the lady in question looked suspiciously at him. "You just asked her how much she charged. And I don't mean for the lemons. Jack- be careful- we do not want an international incident here. Leave the languages to me, sunshine. You sail the yacht. Division of labour. And I just bought you a rather tasty meat pie 'pudim de fiambre' - so stop whinging and feeling sorry for yourself."

Jack smiled chastely and then suggested we should sit down for a coffee at one of the pavement cafés. Then he excused himself and disappeared. 'What now?' I thought grumpily as I sipped my hot black coffee and pulled a book out from my bag to read. Shortly afterwards he was back and carrying a rather daintily wrapped gift box.

"What...?"

"Open it!" he smiled, rather pleased with himself. Inside was the dress I had seen earlier and he had refused to let me buy. Apparently he had asked the girl on the stall to wrap it and he would be back for it later.

"You dog, Jack Aubrey! You led me on. And you waste too much money. And I love you!"

I am not ashamed to say I kissed him right there before a crowded square and then we bowed to receive the applause of a few of the bystanders. I have been bought a lot of beautiful gifts by men in my time, some very expensive - but few quite touched my heart as did that simple sundress from a gaudy market stall in a tiny little Portuguese sea side harbour. It is always in the meaning that a gift is precious. I know that now.

"So...did we buy enough cheese? I think we should purchase at least a few more rounds..."

Off he goes again.

ARTICLE VI: There shall be music to soothe the savage beast... 

A Musical Interlude: Some days later ashore in Spain.

JACK

"Is there something the matter with Uma tonight, pray?" Stephen asked me as we were settling down to a musical evening. We had arrived earlier in the day and the warm welcome we had received seemed somewhat wasted on Uma. She had been happy enough at first but during the course of the late afternoon, her mood had soured, until now she was quite unapproachable. She had said nothing over a fine dinner to the point where her marked silence was bound to cause Stephen to notice something. He is generally a more astute man than most at the best of times.

When the maid had come in to clear away, Uma had suddenly decided to help her, which was a surprise in itself, as my dear girl is not given to domestic tasks if she can find anyone else to take them on for her. It was evident that she wanted to be alone. When Stephen had suggested we might take out our instruments, I was greatly relieved, hoping that the soothing music would have some effect on the savage beast. The signs were not good. As soon as she heard the sounds of tuning up, she shouted in: "Get your own toasted cheese!" and banged a few more dishes.

"I suspect it may be the moon? Women are so vulnerable to the ebb and flow of moods at that time. She might benefit from a few drops laudanum before retiring?" Stephen suggested.

"PMS. I believe that is the modern term for the condition to which you refer. No. That is not the problem this evening. I underwent that pleasurable experience last week." I selected a piece of music and passed a copy across to Stephen; he looked at it carefully and began to practise sample extracts. I thought he had set the subject aside, but a slammed door must have reminded him.

"Interesting. Then what is causing this unusual debilitation? Perhaps I should examine her? Prescribe a tonic?"

"No. It would not help one jot - and she would be as like to bite your head off if you dared to broach the matter. Let sleeping tigresses lie, brother. There are times when I would welcome Killick for his charming good humour in comparison to Uma. Women can be fearsome things when driven. Thank God the enemy were always men," I added. "Now, let us play - I have a mind to indulge my soul tonight..."

Stephen surprised me by resting down his bow. "My curiosity is aroused, Jack. If I may be so bold, may I inquire as to what has provoked this malevolent mood? I hope you have not upset her - you know how thoughtless and pig-headed  you can be when you speak without due attention. What have you done now?"

"I have done nothing!" I retorted. "This is nothing to do with me." I began to tackle the opening violin solo - but Stephen was still not satisfied.

"Ill tidings from home?"

I stopped, rested my bow, and gave him a self-satisfied smile, well pleased with myself. "None of the issues you have mentioned. In fact the cause is from a quite unexpected quarter - but none the less welcome for all that. St. Maximus has blotted his copybook, I believe, and Uma is mightily hipped. I can only imagine what she has said to him if she makes us suffer in this way. Does it not warm the cockles of your heart, brother, both to be spared the full weight of her wrath AND to know that the general is the target of it?" Rubbing my hands together in scarce disguised glee, I took up my instrument and we set ourselves to playing.

For a very pleasant interlude we sat and made merry, the exquisite concerto rising on the balmy night air. It was so like old times that if I closed my eyes and sniffed the breeze that came off the sea, I could imagine myself back on the Surprise and that none of the strange events of our crossing had ever happened. For my last memory of that existence was, of course, in my Great cabin, plucking at the Boccherini with Stephen.

When the piece concluded I stood, poured out two glasses of vintage port and handed him one; we toasted to the fairer sex and the benefits of being all but deaf in one ear.

Much later, I climbed the stairs to our room in the eaves of the old stone farmhouse tucked in the hills above Cadiz. Stephen had bought this property so that he could settle here in Spain in a part of the Mediterranean where we could often visit, near the sea and a place of some natural beauty. Resting my hands on the balustrade, I gazed out of the balcony on the upper storey that hung over the rugged view, the sea a dark purple shimmer of molten onyx in the distance, the warm late summer evening cooled by the breeze blowing off the land. This passionate land and its wild majesty, so different from the gentle rolling plains of my homeland fires my blood as does the spirited woman who warms my bed with her body and ignites my soul with her tempestuous character. With a smile of anticipation and the heat already surging in my loins, I sighed and turned to our door.

The room was in total darkness, the shutters closed. I stood a moment to familiarise my eyes to the blackness, aware that, despite the silence, she was awake and knew that I was there. I could sense her holding her breath and her petulant humour which both made her wish to curl up in my arms and also to drive me away at the same time. That is the very nature of my lady and I would not wish her any other way.

When I could see enough to make out the dim shadows, I pulled off my clothes and scattered them about, made as much noise as I could as I entered the brightly tiled bathroom and pissed with gurgling abandon before slamming the door and throwing myself down in the bed. Uma was curled up in the corner, feigning sleep. I rolled over to her and slipped my arm round her waist to gather her in against my naked body. She resisted my embrace and tried to scoot away but I had her firm and she was helpless.

"I'm not in the mood!" She hissed and tried to kick back at me with her legs, I laughed and wedged my thigh over her wayward limbs to stay her. "Leave me alone!" she insisted.

But I wrestled with her further until she was on her back and I was straddled over her; she bucked half-heartedly and then fell still, her head resting back on the pillow but her face turned away from mine. My hair hung down over her face and I moved my head to tickle her cheek with a stray lock. She brushed it from her face angrily and put her hands on my upper arms to brace herself against me. "Hush...Tell me what ails thee...why this sour face and stormy temper? What have I done to make you so enraged?"

At that she made a little sigh. "It isn't you! You have never hurt me, dear Jack!"

I smiled. "I am heartily relieved. Now, tell me what wretch has brought you so low - and I shall make it my business to make him pay for his insult!"

Her soft laugh breathed sweetly against my face. "You will do no such thing! He is a fearsome opponent and I will not have him hurt a hair of your head!"

"Think you I am afraid of Maximus?" I settled down between her soft thighs and she relaxed, playing with my hair and rubbing her legs against mine. I felt the rush of blood and the heady sensation of woman, flesh and pleasure.

At the mention of his name she gave an annoying click with her tongue. "Don't mention his name to me!"

"Why? What on earth has the scrub done to you?"

"Nothing!"

"Uma, that makes no sense. Explain - and stop being so evasive!" I pulled away and rolled onto my back; she behaved as I knew she would, throwing herself upon my chest.

"Jack - do not be angry with me! I am just upset. I had a shock..." she laid her head upon my chest and I wrapped her up. "He's...he's in love with a woman. He's going to settle down..."

I struggled to hide both my amusement and relief. "Is that a fact? He takes a number one at last?"

Her voice fell to a whisper. "Not really. I think he is taking himself a wife."

"An outsider?" Even I was surprised.

She laughed ruefully. "Not exactly..." So she told me what he had revealed to her. 

"Why does it hurt so much?" I asked her outright. "Do you regret that he slipped through your fingers? Why hide in riddles and allusion when the truth, as painful as it might be, will be easier to live with in the long run?"

She wriggled up to sit by me, aghast at my comment. "WHAT? Oh God, Jack---is that what you believe? It is not about you! I love you...It is nothing to do with you! It is just that...he was always my friend...my dear, dear friend... and I worry about him so much...and I know nothing of this woman...Just say, she is all wrong for him...? I cannot bear it if he is hurt again..."

I sat up against the wooden headboard and took her face within my hands, tenderly stroking her cheeks with my thumbs. "My sweet...he is a grown man...and one not given to sudden changes of heart. If he has fallen in love then I assure you this did not happen overnight and we must suppose he is fully cognisant of the implications. And you are still his friend...look how he made sure you were the first to know! As he was the first you told about our joy. Imagine how he might have felt then? But he did not pull a face and smash the chinaware, I'll warrant! Who is the woman, pray?"

"Heather." She snapped the name out as if it left a singularly unpleasant taste in her mouth.

"Ah...Heather." The quiet one, who had never really engaged with many of us. I had long had an interest in meeting her but she seemed to have faded from sight even before I did. "You say... they are married?"

"Well...no. But he is cleaving to her and they have moved to Italy. Considering his busy working life and the fact that he seems to have decided to go it alone...it amounts to much the same thing. There will be repercussions..."

I laughed heartily at that. "Repercussions? Unlike with you and me, you mean? Why, I am surprised she is not already your bosom friend in that regard! You have much in common..."

She tutted and swatted me playfully away. 

"Italy? We must go and visit them."

"No bloody chance!" she muttered.

"Oh yes indeed - and I will hear none of your complaints."

"Well, I'm not going to be nice to her just because you want me to..."

"...Nor shall I be unfriendly just because you are."

She met my stare and then threw her head back on the pillow flexing her body sinuously against me with a wicked grin. "I shall be quite, quite merciless, you know!"

"Then I leave it to the general to chastise your rudeness..."

"You might get a shock!"

"So might you!"

We were both no longer interested in talking of others. I had no real fears about her affection for me - we have both proved that to each other enough. But letting go is hard, especially of the man who had single-handedly born her up when she was at the Trough of Despond. I might view Maximus somewhat warily - but I knew the debt I owed him. And I was very keen to meet the fascinating Heather...

All it took was her hand slipping down my belly to locate the seat of my manhood in her slim fingers and I was lost. She wriggled down my body and nestled in my groin helping herself to whatever took her fancy. I rolled back and let her play, watching her attentions. What sight is more pleasing to a man than his cock brushing a tender cheek or soft lips encompassing his girth? I groaned - and she stopped to say: "Hush! Stephen will hear you!"

I snorted. "He has heard worse, I'll wager. Don't stop...just there....OH Yessssss...just the thing..."

A man's brain stops operating about that point in congress. The rest is animal instinct. I do remember that we tested the bedsprings and a variety of different approaches, culminating in my preference. Which is? My affair. But fortunately my lady shares the selfsame interest. We are well suited.

Later as I slipped into slumber and she babbled on in her usual fashion, I did catch one comment that left me with a smile on my face. "Jack? Jack!! I forgot to tell you! I love you!! Jack! Jack!! Don't go to sleep...."

"That is only six articles, Uma. It does not signify."

"I haven't finished, have I? But I'm bored now...I'll finish it later...stop messing with that violin. Start messing with me..."

"My very intention. Come...the port stands by you. Light along with the decanter and your own inestimable person. I wish to sample both before I retire..."

"Hmmm. Article VII: A daily ration of grog and the services of the mate shall be provided..."