Wednesday, 23rd December 1676

I know not whether I awakened from the faint loom of dawn through the windows or from my urge to piss. Whichever, the urge was there, so I lifted Charles' arm from across my midriff and arose from the bed. A minute later, as I re-entered the night cabin, the whistle in the voice pipe trilled, and I watched Charles wake and reply, "Captain."

"A fine morning to you, Sir. Twilight approaches with a clear sky."

"Thank you, Mister Jenkins. I shall be directly up."

He rolled as if to kiss me, and I giggled at his surprise. "Over here, Charles. Returning from the privy."

We met mid-cabin in an embrace and a kiss, and as I deepened it, he pulled away. "A fine temptress you are, but I must oversee the shooting of the landfall latitude. Vital I ensure its accuracy and set our onward course."

I reached down and gave Cyclops a twirl. "Hurry back, so I may warm you both from the morning chill."

He chuckled as he stepped into his breeches and pulled them up. "An enchanting serene you are."

"Serene? What do you mean by this?" I asked as I held his shirt for him.

"I shall tell you upon my return. I truly must rush. Unfortunately, mortals can neither hasten nor delay twilight, nor even can sea captains." He buttoned his shirt as he rushed out the door, saying, "A quarter-hour, or so."

I returned to the bed and lay, running through my mind the things Ruth had told me about pleasing a man, my hands busy attending the mounting tension.

It took me a while to realise they were Charles' lips and fingers, not my own, giving the pleasure, and I opened my eyes to ask, "How long have you been back?"

"A delightful few minutes. So wondrously responsive, even when asleep."

"Hmmm." I moved to receive him, and after I had calmed from the first intensity, we settled into a slow, gentle movement. "So, tell me, now. What did you mean by serene? Is it my calm?"

He chuckled. "No, they are sea nymphs, who by their singing lure sailors to destruction on rocky coasts. It seems to be an ageless myth from prehistory."

"Aha! Sirens. They appear throughout Ancient Greek writing. In Homer's Odyssey and in Apollonius' Argonautica, to name but two."

"I am certain yours is the proper pronunciation. I had created mine from reading."

"Yes, likely. This is how my tutors had pronounced it. These days, they are called mermaids." After a pause to enjoy his slow, deep thrust, I continued, "So, you thought I had been trying to lure you onto the rocks."

He chuckled. "Were I to give in to all your temptations, I would ignore the ship to its detriment."

"Then, resist when you must, but know my desire for you is unending."

"As is mine for you, and this makes resisting all the more difficult."

"Hmmm, indeed. I churned my hips. "Did the Pole Star place us where you had reckoned?"

"It did. And with the dawning, Jamaica appeared low on the horizon, broad of the starboard bows." He gave another deep thrust."

"Ooh! How long now?"

"I do not think doing this lengthens it, so still eight or nine inches."

I burst into laughter, and when I had calmed, I said, "You know what I had meant."

He chuckled. "Sorry, I could not resist the twattle. But about two and a half hours to the entrance. Arrive around two bells of the forenoon, after all have well finished breakfasting."

We remained silent as I concentrated on the mounting intensity, and Charles now recognising the signs, assisted my release. When I had regained calm, I said, "I have thought Olivia might assume Steward's duties here. Laying the table, serving our meals and returning to clean afterwards."

Charles nodded but did not speak, so I continued. "He told me yesterday how busy he is now in the two gunrooms with the additional officers and mates. The released prisoners."

"Indeed, yes. With both you and Olivia here, there is no longer a need for his visits."

"And we will not have to worry about him entering without knocking."

"Yes, a traditional privilege of stewards."

"It might be best if you tell him, rather than me."

"I shall when he next arrives, and you can inform Olivia and instruct her. Have her watch him to better learn."

"Excellent!" I churned my hips again. "Do you wish to release?"

"Yes, I should. I must review the entrance chart. Refresh my memory of its hazards."

<><><>

After we had washed each other and dressed, I followed Charles to the chart table, where he withdrew a bambooed sheath of papers from the drawer. Then selecting one, he unfolded it and spread it out.

"You can see the foul nature of the approach, cluttered with reefs, rocks and shoals."

"Oh, my! What route do ships take through all of this?"

"There are two from the south through here and here, but many of these shoals do not show above the surface, and the ones of sand shift position. We have found it is safest to follow westward along the peninsula, along here, steering on Fort Charles. All these hazards are visible."

He tapped on the chart. "As we approach these islets, we will shorten the hawser to Santiago and launch the three longboats."

"Three, not four?"

"One was rather damaged by our grape."

I nodded, remembering the burst of splintered wood all along Santiago's gunwales. Then I tilted my head and asked, "Why do you refer to the shot as grape?"

"From its former resemblance to bunches of grapes; they once were lead balls of about an inch. But now, they can be lumps of iron or even small stones, all packed into a canvas bag, and they spread when fired."

"Inflicting a broader but lighter damage."

"Exactly. You saw how it tore apart the rigging, but it left the ship rather intact."

I nodded, also remembering how the shot had torn through the crew. Need another topic. I turned back to the chart and pointed to the end of the crooked finger of land. "From the depiction of buildings here, this appears to be Port Royal. I see none shown elsewhere, but this looks too small to have four thousand people."

"Yes, that is it. This chart was drawn a few years ago. But even so, the buildings are all jumbled close together, cheek-by-jowl on a sandy point, which is little more than a quarter-mile by a half-mile."

"Crowded. Ideal for pick-pockets and purse-cutters, then."

"Indeed, and I must warn the crew again about this."

"Oh pshaw! I had thought to go ashore with Olivia, that we may purchase women's clothing, towels, hair ribbons, combs and other such, but I now see this is too much a risque."

"Without a proper guard, yes. But if you will, I can assign four stout hands to accompany and guard you, one on each quarter, so none will dare bother."

"Oh, like the ones with the truncheons at the auction."

"Exactly. And since you already know Simpson and Briggs from the sorting and counting, I can arrange that they be among the four."

"Oh, how wonderful. With them to help carry, we can purchase more." I looked up and shrugged. "Unless it is all too dear."

"No, not at all dear. Rather, the contrary. This is a great place to purchase, there being more fine goods than there exists demand, and the prices are well below those asked elsewhere, even in London. My silk shirts and my best coats are all from Port Royal. Their cut and craft are Spanish and Dutch, and among the drab English styles, they appear elegant."

Charles paused and fingered the ruffles on his shirt front. "I have been told they are jaunty, though I have yet to find a meaning for that word."

I chuckled. "Jaunty is an attempt to say genteel, which is the English version of the French, gentil, meaning fashionably elegant." I smiled at him. "And, yes, they most certainly are that. They are ..." I paused to count the bells as they pealed. "Seven. Steward will soon be here, and you must inform him, and I, Olivia."