Charles and I had paused our copying to enjoy dinner, then we resumed immediately after. When finally we were done and two sets of the additions had been sent ashore, Charles withdrew a map from his pocket and unfolded it on the table.

"We are here, and the better merchants are along here in Queen Street and this end of High Street. Avoid Lime Street and this area beyond; it is filled with brothels, drinking houses and gambling dens."

I nodded. "Just in from the wharves. Convenient to those heading ashore."

"Aye, the reason they are established there."

"I shall sketch a copy."

"No need. You may take this with you." He touched his coat breast. "I have another here and I have given one to Simpson, instructing him to guide you along the wharves to here, the Customs House, before entering the city."

A while later, after Charles had left to extract more information from the leader of the pirates, I closed myself in the night cabin and fetched my purses and coin girdle from the hide. Then I sat on the bed, pondering how much to take. What will we find? At what prices?

Finally, I resolved to take it all, so lifted my shirt hem and fastened the girdle about my waist, the purse strings looped around it. Then tucking the purses beneath the waistband of my skirt, I let them hang down inside. After twisting and bouncing in front of the mirror, I was satisfied they did not show, so I closed the hide and rejoined Olivia, where we sat by the windows, watching the activity and awaiting our escorts.

As three bells pealed, there came a knock on the door, and we both rose. "Aye, responding to the knocks will be one of your duties, Olivia. But we know who this is. Shall we ashore?"

Simpson greeted us at the door, then he bobbed his head for a long while as he ogled us with mouth agape. Finally, he spoke, "I now see why Captain wants such a strong guard. These here be Brigs and Roberts and Bonner, and we'll protect you."

I smiled at them, amused by where their eyes appeared to have settled. "Fine, then. Lead the way, Simpson."

As we walked along the wharves past the ships, sailors hooted and whistled, and this intrigued me. Are we that attractive? Or is it because we are so rare to their eyes? I think the latter. Not ever had I received this in Portsmouth. But not ever had I dressed in anything but drab. And that had been tailored to hide my shape. I winced at thoughts of Mother.

Hoots and whistles sounded again as we passed the next ship. Would my Portsmouth drab attract this attention here? Likely.

I looked at Olivia, her shoulders thrust back and her bosom forward. So different from how she had hidden the past many weeks. And her smile. She appears to love the attention. But is the attention for us as persons? No, I think not.

No, rather they see us as a means to satisfy their lust. Then what?

"You look ta be in a pother, Ma'am."

Olivia's voice startled me from my thoughts. "Hmmm... Oh, do I?" I shook my head. "Not a serious one. Just thinking of the meaning of their outbursts. They seem attracted for one thing only."

"As mama for ever warned me. They wants inta me and that's all. Leave me with child, and then what?" She shrugged. "But it does feel good ta be noticed."

"Indeed, it does. But notice and carnal interest have little meaning unless accompanied by respect."

Olivia and I carried on with our intercourse as we walked, the four men listening in silence, and I noted their sharing glances and nodding among themselves from time to time. And this pleased me.

We arrived at the Customs House, then following the lane at its front, we were led into the broadness of Queen Street. So many shops. Where to begin?

"A circuit, Simpson. Take us along one side and back on the other, then the same with High Street. We shall search for clothiers first."

"Aye, m'Lady."

I chuckled. "From whence comes this title?"

"Captain said your father's a baron and that you're a noble-born lady."

"No, it is Father's brother, my uncle, who is the baron."

"Ach! That's what he said. But that still leaves you with rights to the title of Lady, m'Lady."

I shrugged. "Yes, I suppose it does. But it changes not who I am."

After we had passed along both sides of each Queen and High Street, examining the displays in the windows, I asked, "Which attracts you the most?"

"They all look good, m'Lady," Olivia replied. "Far better than anything in Portsmouth."

I chuckled. "Now you also title me."

"I didn'a know afore, m'Lady.

I nodded, "And you, Simpson? Does one favour you? And you, Briggs, Bonner and Roberts. What think you?"

Simpson pointed to one a few doors along, one whose display had intrigued me. When the other three pointed to a shop across at the end of the street, I said, "Fine, then. That seems the most popular, so we shall begin with it."

At the door a minute later, we were greeted by an older man. "Welcome. We have all what you need. Come in. Look around. Ain't nothin' but the finest here."

We entered, and after waiting for a while, I asked, "Is it not customary and proper that a woman present clothing to us?"

"The mistress is over ta the Merchant Exchange, lookin' at the list for the morrow's auction. But no matter. I usually handle this selection." He swung his hand back and forth past a line of manikins clothed in gaudy reds and purples, and others similar hanging on the walls.

Olivia sidled up to me and in a low voice, said, "These is all too bold, m'Lady. Then pulling at the bodice top of one dress, then of another, she continued, "We would need ta alter 'em a lot ta make 'em proper."

"Indeed! With them cut in this fashion, my... Hmmm. My underpinnings would show."

"Ah, but yer've gotta remove that stuff, little missy," the man replied. "Gotta be bold to attract the custom. Peek them nipples at 'em. Make the men rise, then yer've got 'em. This here one's split right the way up the front, so as when they's difficult, yer can show 'em a leg, and even spread the whole business for 'em, iffin it comes ta that."

"Outrageous!"

"Aye, but necessary to earn yer keep."

"Earn? Keep?" I shook my head. "What is this?"

"Sell yer body, missy. And you two's got such fine ones." His eyes roved up and down our fronts, then he reached his hands toward our bosoms.

I screamed.

Simpson took three quick steps and seized the man. "That ain't no way to treat ladies."

"Ladies? Hah! Yer knows harlots ain't ladies. Unhand me."

"Harlot? She's the wife of a ship's captain. A lady of noble birth. How dare you call her a harlot."

The clothier shook his head. "What say? Yer not from Lord Vaughan?"

"Lord Vaughan? Who's this?"

"He said he was sendin' two new indentured ones for me ta dress."

Vivid images of my brother's grappling at my bosom and nethers faded, and I regained composure. "Well, we are most certainly not them."

I pointed toward the door. "Thank you for your defence, Simpson. Let us find a better clothier."

"Wait, now. We's got decent stuff in t'other room."

Simpson shook his head as he guided Olivia and me out the door.