Rating: NC-17 Het, Femslash

Pairing: Matthews/Female OC, Female OC/Female OC

Disclaimer: I own Jenny Tarbuckle and Sarah Woods. Meridian and the Forester estate own Matthews, Pellew, and the rest of the Hornblower universe. I just hang out in their sandbox because they have the neatest toys.

Feedback to: Ragged Rose

A/N: "A true friend is a guy who goes into town for a $20 blow job and brings you back one too." This story is the flip side of many a slash tale about the officers. While they’re ashore taking care of business (as opposed to taking care of business, if you know what I mean), the life of the ship goes on. It’s a bit different in port, but the seamen take their chances where they can find them. And allowing the seamen to take their "wives" aboard in port is an old tradition.

The anchor had hardly splashed down into the depths of Spithead Harbor before the crew was called on to lower a boat. Captain Sir Edward Pellew and the newly promoted Lieutenant Hornblower were soon on their way ashore, leaving the Indefatigable in the care of the first lieutenant, Bowles.

Sarah Woods knew she was probably the only seaman aboard who wasn’t envious of the boat’s crew, or happy to see the approach of the bumboats. No one aboard had set foot ashore for months, and few would be getting the chance, but the needs of the seamen would be seen to, nevertheless. If the men could not go ashore, the women would be brought out to them. She felt doubly conspicuous as she hung back from the crowd at the entry port as the first bumboat arrived.

"Jenny!" Matthews waved from his place beside the rail. "I'll take her, mate!" He pulled a shilling from his pocket for her fare.

"Matty! It's been a bit, hasn't it?" The dark-haired woman waved from the boat below.

Matthews looked her over happily. She hadn't changed. The same slim waist, and a top hamper that could smother a man, if he were lucky. She wore red, low-necked and of a shade that showed her creamy skin to advantage. Her brown hair was piled high, though some of it had escaped in the fresh breeze as the boat had come out from the shore. Her blue eyes twinkled as she noted his appraisal. She leaned back and pulled her skirt up to her knees. A riot of lace and white lawn lay below the cheap skirt, but all Matthews had eyes for were the shapely legs, set off in green stockings. A neat pair of high-heeled shoes showed her ankles off. She hadn't changed, and thank God for it.

"Higher!" He motioned for her to raise the skirt further.

She giggled. "Dirty sailor! Save somethin' for later!" She pushed the skirt down provocatively.

"A man likes to know what he's buyin'!" Matthews grinned wider.

Jenny waved a small hand dismissively at him. "Oh you knows all right wot's here, you does!" She looked along the rail at the other sailors the conversation had attracted. " I do love a man in big brass buttons!" She waved at another sailor. "Wotcher, dearie!"

"I'll pay 'er fare!" The other man pulled a shilling from his coat.

"Oh no you won't! Here, mate!" Matthews tossed the coin down to the boatman.

His arm licked forward and swept up the coin before it could land in the bottom of the boat. "Right you are, then. Up you go dear!" He handed the laughing girl up the side to Matthews.

Sarah watched quietly from the foredeck as the seamen chose their "wives" from the bumboats. She had been dreading this since they dropped anchor. She knew well enough what happened when a large man of war came into port. But for her quickness and experience at sea, she might well have ended up as one of the creatures who even now were coming aboard. This would be the hardest test yet of her disguise. She watched Matthews take his choice below.

She pulled out her pipe and pouch of tobacco, as much to give herself something to do as for the smoke itself. She dreaded going below for the evening meal. She gazed out across Portsmouth harbor, beautiful in the rare sunlight. The familiar shoreline and the buildings of the dockyard lay before her. It had been a long time since she’d seen them. Time had healed some of the pain that had gone before and she wished that she could be going ashore instead of below to face the rest of the crew with their women.

Eventually though she had to do just that. She dared not miss supper, for fear of being doubly conspicuous. The darkness as she descended through the main hatch matched that in her soul. Below, the mess was already uproarious. The benches and table were already set up and she slid quickly into her place.

The benches were crowded indeed, and it was as she feared. Everyone in the mess had a woman beside him, save her. Miserably, she looked at the tabletop.

"Wot, none of ‘em would come with you, Jack?" Styles chucked the girl in his lap under the chin. She was older, and looked at Sarah with hard eyes. "Well, don’t expect us to share with ye!"

Sarah looked straight back at him. "What I want ain’t in a boat, Styles." Suddenly she knew how to deflect the unwanted questions. Her own misery was the key.

"Oh no? Where is it then?" The girl spoke disdainfully. "Doesn’t look as if you’re old enough to know, lad."

"Oh, I’m old enough." Sarah turned miserable eyes on her messmate. "She ain’t the sort to come aboard in a bumboat. Her father’d never let ‘er." She rose from the table and fled back on deck.

"Wouldn’t know what to do with her if she did," Styles said as he watched his messmate go.

"Leave off, Styles," Matthews said. "He’s young yet."

When the mess kid came around Matthews halved his ration with Jenny. His portion he wrapped in a kerchief and stuffed down his shirt.

"Ain’t you eating, dearie?" Jenny asked. She hadn’t missed the way his eyes had followed Jack when he’d left. She hadn’t spent this long going with sailors for nothing. There was more there than met the eye.

"Not hungry for bread," Matthews declared. He squeezed her in a way that left no doubt what he meant.

Jenny giggled and kissed him. "Can’t you even wait till supper’s over?"

"My supper’s right here," Matthews said. He pulled her closer, reveling in the feel of soft flesh pressed against him.

"Naughty man!" Jenny wiggled in his arms, as eager for the meal to be over as he was. Sometimes it was work, sometimes it was fun, but with Ben Matthews it was pure joy. She meant to have as much of it as she could before he sailed away again. She turned her face to his for another kiss.

The table erupted in catcalls as Matthews took advantage of the opportunity.

"There’s a girl who throws herself into her work!"

"’Ere dear, can I be next?"

"Put her on the table and let us all have a turn!"

Matthews ignored them all. "Let’s go find a place that’s a mite quieter," he said, his eyes smiling into hers.

Jenny didn’t need to be told twice. She wiggled free of the bench, and the hands that grazed her body as she came within reach, and then they were walking along the gundeck. He stopped briefly and she watched him slip the kerchief of food into the top of a seabag.

Matthews led them down a ladder and into relative quiet. He took her soft hand in his and kissed it. "Come on, just a bit farther."

Jenny could barely see in the gloom, and the reek of the bilge was worse than the smell of the gundeck, but Matthews’s hand in hers was all the reassurance she needed. The great ship rocked steadily under her feet. Matthews opened a door and drew her into a smaller space.

"Here love, watch your feet." Jenny felt Matthews’s hard hands at her waist, guiding her forward. Her feet kicked against something that yielded slightly. "Sit yourself down, lass. We’re in the sail locker."

Jenny squatted down and felt her way onto the mound of canvas. "Oh, this is nice! Can we spend the night right ‘ere?"

"Not likely," Matthews said. "Best we be back up when they pipe "down hammocks." He settled himself beside her and drew her into his arms. "Just time enough for me to make a meal of you."

Jenny sighed and opened her lips to his questing tongue. She felt his body hot against her, his hard cock pressing into her thigh. She shivered as his arms tightened around her, crushing her against him.

Matthews was lost in softness. Her throat, delicate beneath his calloused hands, her head falling back as he explored it with lips and tongue. Her hair was impossibly soft as he buried his hand in it. He slid her skirts gently upwards. Her gentle noises as his hand met her bare flesh were all the encouragement he needed. He ground himself against her, then rose to his knees, hands tearing at his shirt, at his trouser buttons. He felt her wrap her legs around his, heard her tearing at her own clothing. She moaned as he spread her legs further, pushing his trousers down out of the way. She arched into him and he felt her wetness slide up his thighs, like fire along his prick.

"Oh lass..." He guided himself into her. Their groans mingled as he slid in to the hilt. Her wet warmth undulated around him, her legs wrapped around him. He reached down and took her in his arms, then sat back. She squealed as his cock slid in deeper, as her breasts flattened against his chest. He sat there a moment, afraid to thrust, knowing he wouldn’t last long and wanting it to be as long as possible. Then he felt her rub herself against him, rising up on his prick and he couldn’t help it. He lay her down on the canvas and took his pleasure of her.

Jenny was used to sailors. They never took very long the first time. When Matty spent himself in her, she was philosophical about it. She kissed him as he came back to himself, and nestled in his arms as he lay beside her. But she should have known he wasn’t like the others. His hand slid down the curves of her body, and between her legs. She gasped as she felt his fingers enter her.

"Aye, oh aye." Matthews felt her tighten around his hand, and bent his head to kiss her again. He trailed his thumb through her wet folds and she moaned into his mouth. He kissed her from neck to belly as his hand moved inside her, fingers finding places his cock couldn’t. She was limp with pleasure when he finally withdrew. He held her close, breathing in her scent, feeling her soft body against his.

The sound of the calls was faint, but Matthews had been too long at sea not to hear them. He jerked awake and reached for his shirt.

"Jenny, we’ve got to go."

The girl squeaked and wiggled awake, and his eyes were used to the darkness enough to see her rub her eyes sleepily.

"They’ve piped down hammocks, girl. Best we be up there soon."

***

Sarah had been sitting on the forehatch, a half-made lanyard in her hand. She knew the other sailors thought Jack was a prude, but she couldn’t make herself go below. For once she dreaded slinging her hammock. She didn’t want to watch any of them with their women, but she was surprised to find that it was the thought of Matthews that bothered her most of all. It couldn’t be helped, though, and to hang back now would only make the taunts worse. She wasn’t the only seaman aboard without a woman, after all, she told herself.

She was on the rail, passing hammocks down from the nettings when Matthews stumbled out of the hatch. His hair was only half in its queue and his face was creased with sleep, but at least his clothes were on, she thought sourly.

When she went below to get her gear, she discovered Matty’s kerchief full of food. For some unfathomable reason, the small kindness made her feel worse, not better. But when his tart came upon her as she was angrily scrubbing the tears from her eyes, it was the last straw.

"I thought that was for you," she said uncertainly.

"What’s it to you?" Sarah growled.

"Oh nothing, I’m sure," Jenny said. "He’s a kind man, is all."

Sarah grabbed her gear and disappeared up the ladder.

Jenny looked after the young seaman thoughtfully. She knew what sailors got up to, and what they risked to do it. Most would have a woman if they could get one, but a few only wanted their own kind. Maybe Jack really did have a long lost woman on shore, but she’d bet her last shilling against it. And in all the ships she’d come aboard, she’d never seen a sailor cry over another sailor, unless he was dead.

***

"Show a leg!" The boatswain’s mates made their way along the gundeck, rousing the crew. "Out or down!" On this fine morning, there were many female legs on display, signs that the occupied hammock was not to be cut down. There were many sleepy faces among the crew. Oh yes, the night had been well spent indeed.

Sarah at last found something to smile about. The rest of her division looked like hell. Matty, in particular, looked as if he hadn’t slept a wink. A hoarded double tot had sent Sarah straight to sleep. Yes, she was beginning to get the hang of this.

It wasn’t until midmorning that she got the chance to speak with him out of earshot of the others. The boatswain sent them out on the bowsprit to unbend one of the jibs and repair the net it sat in when not in use. Sarah started on the net as Matthews cut the lashings that held the hanks the sail traveled up and down the stay on.

"Rough night?" As the morning wore on, Sarah’s anger had faded. While silence except for necessary communication was the general rule on deck, in Indefatigable they were rarely held strictly to it and she couldn’t help but notice that Matthews hadn’t spoken one word to her beyond what was necessary. Was it fatigue, or her disgust at the fact that he’d taken a tart from the boats? Whatever the reason, she missed their easy companionship. What business was it of hers who he shared his bed with?

Matthews looked up and smiled. As their eyes met, they both knew everything was all right again. "I’m getting too old for this."

"Did she tell you that?" Sarah asked slyly.

"Never you mind." Matthews pulled another wooden hank free from the stay and put it in the canvas bucket that hung beside him.

"Thanks for the food," Sarah said. "But I’ll show the sense to stay for supper from now on."

Matthews cut another lashing at the knot and unwound it from the oval of wood. He coiled it as he spoke. "A King’s Ship in port’s not a pretty sight. And we weren’t fit company. I don’t blame you a bit for leaving."

"But the rest do," Sarah answered, "and if I expect to be a part of the crew, I’d best learn to fit in."

"I didn’t know she’d bother ye so much." Matthews said. "I’m sorry." He’d floated between anger and shame all morning. He’d long ago accepted that Woods would never see him as anything other than a shipmate, but last night had been hard. A ship in port was little more than a floating brothel, true, but he’d never before been ashamed of what he did when he got the chance. He could never have her, but he was only a man, after all. What did she expect of him? But then again, how did the comforts of a woman in port compare with her friendship all the days out of it?

"You’ve no reason to be," Sarah replied. Her eyes were turned down to the net she was splicing a new piece into. "It’s not my business who ye choose to share your bed with."

Matthews unwound another lashing, and coiled it before he spoke. He wished he could tell her that for her he’d give up all the others. He knew that the easy friendship they had would end the day he did. Why would she want an old man like him? He settled for what he knew they shared. "I don’t think any tart is worth your friendship."

Sarah’s eyes whipped up to meet his. "Did ye think it came down to that? And what kind of friend would ask that of you? It’s not my place, Matty--I’m sorry I made you think you had to do that for me."

Their eyes met and Matthews fought down the impulse to tell her the truth. He settled for a smile. "Madness of the moment, Jack. We’re friends, always will be."

***

That evening, Sarah did stay with the mess through supper. She even joined in with the ribald jokes. It was survival, she told herself, and it wasn’t really so different from what they did at sea, except that there were women there. By the end of the meal she was beginning to enjoy it.

When the meal was over, and Woods had gone on deck, Jenny finally felt Matty relax. She tried to coax him down to the sail locker again, but he wouldn’t go. There wasn’t enough time, he kept saying. He might have a point at that, Jenny had to admit to herself. She wanted to know what that little dark-eyed sailor had to do with it, though.

A few moments up against a bulkhead, Matty’s hungry body pressed against hers, damped but didn’t destroy her curiosity. When he sat them down to share out his tot between them, she began.

"I saw Jack Woods last night." She held the hoarded rum between her hands.

"Did ye now?" Matthews said noncommittally.

"Yeah. He’d just found the food you left him and he was crying."

"Now why would Jack cry over a bit of food?" Matthews asked. She was getting perilous close to the truth, to his way of thinking. Jenny had always understood people, that was for sure.

"Only two reasons I would cry if someone left me a bit of food," Jenny mused. She waited patiently. Two could play at that game.

Matthews took her gently by the shoulders. "Jenny, what are ye trying to say to me?" He ran his palms up to rest on her shoulders.

Jenny smiled back. "Oh, just that I knows what sailors get up to. And he’s the one who’s here all the time." Her eyes grew serious. "If you was ashore, Matty, I’d want ter be with you, but we see each other what? Maybe a few days every couple years, since you left Justinian? He’s wiv you all the time."

Matthews felt his heart fill. "If I was ashore, I’d marry you in a minute, Jenny."

Jenny bit her lip, and turned away as one tear fell. If it were only possible, she thought. "But you’re at sea. And there’s nothing can change that. He seems a good lad, really he does."

Matthews put a gentle hand under her chin and coaxed her back to face him. "Jack Woods and I aren’t at all what you think we are."

"You’re not?" Jenny asked. "Then why was he crying?"

Matthews hesitated. It was the question that was on his own mind. He didn’t have an answer for himself, let alone her. And more to the point, what could he tell her that wouldn’t betray Jack’s secret? How had he managed to get himself in this deep? He took the rum from her and took a drink. "Jack isn’t in love with me. He’s just not used to seeing a ship in port."

"Oh, he’s in love wiv you all right," Jenny said. "He watches you. He doesn’t give a fig for any of us. Women aren’t his cuppa."

Matthews put the rum carefully on the deck. "I’m not giving up what little of you I have, Jenny. Jack Woods or no Jack Woods." He took her in his arms again, knowing there was only one way to get her mind off Woods.

***

Sarah slept again that night with a tot of rum inside her. Jenny, astride Matthews, looked at the slack face as she hung on to the deckhead beams. There was still something strange about that boy. He was beautiful, true enough. She’d be in his hammock any night, she decided. A particularly well-aimed thrust made her turn her eyes back to Matthews.

"Not holding your attention, love?" Matthews’s hands were warm on her hips. One strayed up under her shift to brush a nipple. Jenny sighed, and Matthews did the same as he felt her tighten on his deeply buried cock.

"I’m sorry--dearie--" Jenny said as she focused on her partner.

Matthews almost saw stars as Jenny twisted on top of him. Making love in a hammock was an art she had mastered. With her knees on either side of Matthews and her neck and shoulders braced against the beams overhead, she had both stability and room to move. Thoughts of Woods fled as he filled his hands with her warm flesh.

***

Woods was everywhere, Jenny decided. And he was shy. He’d never had a woman before, for all she could tell. It was the shy ones that always got her attention. She couldn’t help herself, after all. He was so polite to her now. Better than the rest. She tried to get a glimpse of his body, but she soon found that he was the only sailor who was never unclothed. No matter how she tried, she never could catch him. It was frustrating, but only made her more determined.

She’d taken to watching him sleep. Many were the nights she lay on Matty’s broad chest and looked over at his friend. Relaxed in sleep, Woods looked even younger and more inexperienced than he did awake. Tonight his head was back, his shirt open and showing a narrow strip of white flesh. It contrasted sharply with his tanned face, and she wondered if it was as soft as it looked. She wished she dared to find out. She shut her eyes quickly as his opened. The hammock swayed gently as Woods got up. As he disappeared up the ladder, she eased herself to the deck and followed him.

The heads were usually deserted this time of night, which suited Sarah just fine. Her courses were on her and the oakum wadded into her drawers needed changing. She listened carefully for a moment, then quickly did what was necessary. She was doing up her trousers again when Jenny appeared.

Sarah started, lightheaded as she realized how close she had come to being discovered. "Evening, lass," she said brusquely, as if nothing was amiss.

"Evening Jack," Jenny smiled invitingly at the young sailor.

Sarah smiled briefly back, and turned sideways to squeeze past the tart. Trust her to stand directly in the passage, a thing no seaman would do.

"Wot, leaving so soon?" Jenny moved aside, then pressed herself up against Woods as he tried to pass. She slid her hands up his chest and in the instant before they were snatched away she felt a roundness where there should be only hard planes of muscle.

Two sets of eyes met in shocked surprise.

They stood frozen for a moment, Jenny’s slender wrists prisoned in Woods’s hard sailor’s hands.

Sarah’s mind raced, trying to see a way out of this. It was far too late to explain it away as a misunderstanding. She briefly considered throwing the girl over the head rails and into the sea, but she knew she couldn’t do it, secret or no. She let the girl go, not knowing what else to do.

"So that’s how it is," Jenny said. All the pieces fell into place.

Sarah wanted to scream. It was none of her concern! But all that would do would be to bring the anchor watch running forward. "Aye." She searched the face before her. "So will ye tell the others?" She couldn’t believe how calm her voice sounded. She felt lightheaded, unreal.

"Of course not." It was strange to see fear of her in someone else’s face. It had always been the other way around before. Jenny didn’t like it either way, she decided. "What’s it to me?" And what good would it do either of them? "Does Matty know?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "Aye."

It was all too perfect, Jenny thought. Just like it was in the broadsides the street sellers hawked for a penny. Woods was a handsome cabin boy if ever she’d seen one. For a moment she envisioned herself dressed in sailor’s clothes, able to follow Matty wherever he went.

Sarah saw the smile cross the girl’s face and knew what she was thinking. "It’s not like that. We’re shipmates and that’s all."

"If it was me we’d be a lot more," Jenny said.

"If it was you you’d last about a day before the whole crew knew," Sarah answered. The silly girl didn’t know what she was saying.

Jenny reached out and took one of Woods’s hard hands in hers. "I expect you’re right." She brought it gently to her lips. Female or not, Woods was still a handsome sailor.

Sarah snatched her hand back. She could still feel those warm lips on her fingertips. "Here now, what are you doing?"

"Just wanted to see what that was like," Jenny said. "I’m sorry."

"Save it for Matty," Sarah said. She pushed past the girl and all but ran back to her hammock. She closed her eyes, feigning sleep when Jenny climbed back in with Matty, but she lay awake until the boatswain’s mates came through.

***

All day Sarah worked as usual, expecting the axe to fall. Had Jenny meant what she’d said? Or would she sell her secret for a tot of rum, as any other tart would? She barely touched her food, though she managed to laugh and joke with the others. She fancied she could feel every eye in the mess on her. When Matthews and Jenny slipped away after supper, she went up on deck. The air was cleaner here and the eyes upon her were fewer.

Sleep eluded her again that night. Her rum ration only blunted the fear a bit. Around her she could hear the sounds of lovemaking and she squeezed her eyes tight shut against the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She wished with all her heart they were at sea again.

The hammock next to her jostled against hers as Matthews climbed in, and Jenny settled in beside him. She strained her ears to hear their soft whispers. It was all the sort of talk she’d have expected before last night. Words of love, rude suggestions that swiftly turned to soft sighs and muffled groans. Nothing about her. She wondered why they bothered to be so quiet. No one else did, after all. As the hammock began to bounce, she found herself remembering the touch of Jenny’s lips on her fingers, imagining the feel of them against other parts of her body. It was as if the heat from the next hammock flowed over her too. She remembered how it had been when she’d been newly married, when her husband’s touch had filled her with delight. As her hammock swayed gently, her coarse shirt rubbed enticingly over her erect nipples, sending sparks of desire through her. She lay still, wishing she was anywhere but where she was.

***

"Matty," Jenny said softly. "Would yer mind if I went with Jack one evening?" They lay sprawled across the sails again, their bodies warm and sated against each other.

Matthews laughed. "He won’t have ye, girl. Jack’s not made that way."

"Oh, I know well enough how Jack’s made, dearie." Jenny’s hand rubbed slow circles on Matthews’s bare chest.

"Do you now?" Privately, Matthews doubted that, but he kept his knowledge to himself. He felt warm and lazy, and better than he had in months. After all that time with Jack so close it was heaven to lie with a willing woman again.

"She’s handsome enough for me."

"What?" Matthews’s eyes snapped open.

Jenny laughed. "I knows the boys from the girls, love."

Matthews chuckled and pulled her closer. "Ye do at that." He rolled over to face her. "Have you told anyone else?"

"Of course not!" Jenny declared.

"Are you going to?" Matthews searched her face in the semi darkness.

"No, I wouldn’t dream of it," Jenny replied. "She’s the Female Sailor Bold, just like in the songs. It’s like a dream come true, Matty. How could I spoil it? She’s even following her own true love."

Matthews looked at her quizzically. Trust Jenny to turn it into a lovely story, even if the pieces didn’t all fit. "Her own true love?"

"You, silly!" Jenny said.

"Me?" Matthews chuckled. He wished it were true, but he knew better. "I’m an old man, lass. Far too old for the likes of her. We’re mates, and that’s it."

"You’re not that old, Matty." Jenny smiled wickedly and ran a possessive hand over his flat belly. Matthews grunted as he felt his cock begin to respond.

"Is any man too old for you, Jenny?" He pulled her close again, delighting in the way she fit so well against him.

"I’ve seen the way she is with you, Matty," said Jenny, determined not to be diverted. "Both of you want each other, what’s stopping you?"

Matthews rolled onto his back again. "Even if she did it’s not that simple. She’s a seaman, and a ship is a small place. Sooner or later someone would find out. Pellew would put her ashore for sure if he knew."

"Seamen go with each other all the time," Jenny replied.

"Seamen know we’re risking the rope," Matthews said. "If we do, we do it with care." He gathered her close in his arms again. "Who’s been telling you such things?"

Jenny lay her cheek against his chest contentedly. "I spends a lot of time in one ship or another, Matty. I see what goes on."

"You see, and the rest of us don’t?"

"I tumbled to Woods now didn’t I?" Jenny said. "When a man hasn’t got an eye for the ladies I know something’s up. And when a man watches one of his messmates the way you and Woods do, it sets a girl to thinking."

"All right, it’s true," Matthews admitted. "I’d have Woods any day. But he won’t have me. He turned me down flat, as a matter of fact. Fair enough?"

"She may have turned you down, Matty, but it wasn’t because she didn’t want you," Jenny said.

Matthews sighed and sat up. "Whatever his reasons, he said no, and that’s good enough for me, lass." He reached for his shirt.

***

The night was cool, and Sarah had the forehatch to herself again. The smoke from her pipe drifted slowly aloft as she sat thinking. Last night’s misery had faded somewhat, but Jenny still loomed larger in her thoughts than she liked. She turned her head as footsteps sounded on the deck.

"Mind if I join yer?" Jenny asked.

"Suit yourself." Speak of the Devil, she thought to herself.

Jenny plumped herself down beside Woods. She had a battered tankard in her hand, and she took a drink before offering it to Woods. "Bit of a warmer?"

Sarah took it. It was half full of neat rum. "Thankee." She took a long drink. She wondered what the girl had done to get the equivalent of a day’s ration, but she didn’t feel like asking.

For a few moments they sat there in silence, enjoying the relative peace. In port, Pellew set no more than an anchor watch, and they were gathered aft by the wheel.

"I see why you spends so much time up here, Jack," Jenny said. "Almost like havin’ yer own ship."

Sarah couldn’t help but smile at that. "So it is."

"I could see you wiv your own ship somehow." Jenny took another drink and passed the tankard. "Just like Bold Captain Ward."

Sarah shook her head. She could see what Matty saw in this sweet little tart, but sometimes she wondered if the woman had a brain in her head. "Life isn’t always like the songs, Jenny."

"No," Jenny agreed. "But yours seems to be." She tucked her legs up under her skirts contentedly. "Tell me Jack, why did you go to sea?"

Sarah drank, and passed the tankard. "Why does any man? It’s steady work, with regular meals. The pay isn’t good, but you never have to worry about food on the table or a place to sleep." And it got me out of Gosport, she added silently.

"There must ‘ave been more," Jenny said. "Why the sea? Why not an inn, or a shop?"

"It was the only trade I knew," Sarah said. "I started out a fisherman." She packed the tobacco down in her pipe and put it back in its pouch. "And what about you? Why not a shop or an inn for you?"

Jenny was silent a moment. "The same, really. It’s the only trade I know." She smiled wistfully. "Not something ter be proud of, is it?"

"Not for me to say," Sarah said. "I don’t think I’d be much good at it." She dropped her eyes.

"Not much of a trade," Jenny answered, puzzled at Woods’s reaction. "I wish I could do what you can."

"I was married once," Sarah said. "If I could do what you can I might have kept my husband."

"Oh dearie!" Jenny leaned forward and took Woods’s hands in hers. "Any man would be lucky ter have you! What kind of fool was he to leave you?"

"He didn’t leave me," Sarah said. "He died." The warmth of their joined hands was soothing, and she was surprised at herself. She didn’t pull away, though. Some part of her knew that if anyone came upon them thus it would only help her disguise, and it had been so long since she had been able to talk freely to another woman. Matty was the closest thing she had to a confidant.

"Dearie, even I can’t keep a dead man," Jenny said sympathetically. "And no one’s ever cared for me enough ter marry me." She smiled as she remembered Matty’s declaration. "No man who was able, that is."

"He was a sailor," Sarah said. "We may have lived together, but he didn’t love me for long." She reclaimed one of her hands. She saluted Jenny with the tankard and took a drink.

"So you lost your true love and went to sea to forget him."

The pure admiration that shone from Jenny’s eyes was both frightening and compelling. Sarah couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at her in that way. "I went to sea to make a living," she corrected.

"You’re a better man than many," Jenny said softly. "I’d ‘ave bin glad if you’d paid my fare."

"Better Matty than me," Sarah said, amused and touched by the compliment. "I only look the part."

Jenny giggled. "Do yer think that’s the only thing a woman wants?" She slid closer and whispered her next words. "Want ter surprise the whole gundeck? What better way to prove what a man you are than to bed a tart?" She kissed Sarah’s ear gently, then took the lobe in her mouth. She sat back again, hoping she hadn’t been too forward.

Sarah felt her insides go liquid at the touch of Jenny’s lips. Before she could react, the sweet pressure was gone. She turned to stare into eyes that shone with promise and passion. "How can I bed you without a yard, Jenny?" She took Jenny’s hand in hers this time. It was a revelation. Since she’d become Jack, the simple act of touch had become fraught with danger. Even Matty’s touch was something to be avoided. Jenny’s touch held nothing but pleasure.

"You ‘as fingers, don’t you?" Jenny asked. "How do you please yourself?" She slid closer, until her thigh brushed Sarah’s.

"Please myself?" Sarah was lost.

"Like the lads do. They touch themselves when they hasn’t got a woman to please them." Jenny brought Woods’s hand to her lips as she had before, watching the other woman’s eyes as she kissed the calloused fingertips. They widened in surprise, then pleasure. She felt Jack shiver as she sucked first one finger inside, then another. Woods tasted of tar, and salt beef, and something Jenny could not name. She explored the work-roughened hand until Jack’s breath came hard and fast, his eyes closed. She kissed the palm, then flattened it against her breasts.

Sarah opened her eyes, surprised at the strength of the feelings that coursed through her. Jenny’s smile was different now, more wanton. What had made her uncomfortable from the other side of the mess table now sent a shock of sensation through her. She moved her palm against the tops of Jenny’s breasts. Her bindings felt uncomfortably tight, her nipples points of pleasure as they chafed against the tight cloth.

"You really don’t understand, does you?" Jenny asked. "About time someone showed you." She ran her hand down the flap of Sarah’s trousers, rubbing her through the cloth. Woods gasped and thrust forward, just as any other horny sailor would. Jenny smiled. If anyone came upon them now, they’d see exactly what they expected to. And the rest of the gundeck would as well, if anyone even noticed. Jenny smiled. She knew one sailor who would. The idea of Matty watching as she pleasured Woods sent a bolt of desire through her. Woods was gasping now, legs opening to Jenny’s busy hand. It was time to take this below.

Sarah came back to herself as Jenny’s hand fell away from her crotch. She sat bolt upright and looked around as she realized just where she was and what she was doing.

"Sssh, love," Jenny said softly. "No one here but us. Want ter go somewhere more private?" The lessons she had in mind weren’t going to be given on deck or in a hammock. That would come later, after Woods knew what was what. She may have had a husband, but she didn’t know the first thing about love.

Sarah wanted nothing more, but things were moving far too fast. "I don’t know if that’s wise," she said as she groped for an excuse. "What about Matty? He paid your fare." Yes. And he was a shipmate. She had to sail with him after Jenny had gone.

"Jack, it’s all right," Jenny said. "We can stop if yer want, but Matty don’t mind." She handed Jack the tankard. "Finish this up, love."

Sarah downed the last of the rum. She didn’t want to stop. She didn’t know how to go on. And as a figure emerged from the main hatch, she told herself she was doing this for the sake of her disguise. She pulled Jenny to her and kissed her for all she was worth. She started as a hand descended on her shoulder. She turned to find herself face to face with the boatswain.

"Well, well, Woods. You’re the last man I expected to find doing this." Though his tone was stern, Sarah could see the grin quirking his lips. "You know the standing orders. Take your pleasure below, like everyone else."

"Aye aye, Mr. Green," Sarah stammered, her face on fire. She took Jenny’s hand and made for the main hatch. His laughter followed them down the ladder. Paradoxically, it gave her courage. She’d been caught with a woman, just as any other man aboard might be. So long as she took care to do it with her clothes on, she’d be fine.

By now Jenny knew the way to the sail locker. It was late, true, but her hammock was slung and her watch wasn’t for hours yet. Sarah felt every inch the randy tar.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Sarah and Jenny were in each other’s arms. The liquid feeling returned as Jenny’s lips explored her neck and as much of her chest as the rough shirt would allow.

"This won’t do at all," Jenny said teasingly. "But we has to keep yer dressed enough not to get caught, but naked enough to have a bit of fun." She pulled at Woods’s wide belt. "I think this can go."

Sarah grinned and took it off. "Better?" She reached for Jenny. "What about you?" As frightening as it had seemed at first, the thought of touching Jenny’s bare flesh fed a growing warmth in her groin. She began to unbutton the front of the red dress.

Jenny giggled and batted Woods’s hands away. "Not yet, love, we isn’t done with you."

"Does it matter?" Sarah asked. "I want to touch ye."

"Quite the lion now, aren’t we?" Jenny cooed. "We wants ter put on a show, now don’t we? Naughty thing, you’ll get yours, don’t you worry." She ran her hands down the front of Woods’s shirt, feeling the outline of the bindings. "Shirt on, but these off, I think."

Sarah pulled her shirt out of her trousers and quickly unwound the bindings from her chest. She dropped them on top of the discarded knife and belt. "Better?" She groaned as Jenny’s soft fingers slid under the cloth and up her bare flesh. She cried out as they traced her aching nipples.

Jenny sighed, her smile lost in the darkness. "I hoped you’d like that." She bent to rub her face along Woods’s belly, to breathe in her scent. She felt her belly tighten, her insides go liquid as her cheek traveled up the soft flesh. So soft, not like the lads at all, but not like any other woman she’d ever had. Woods’s body was softer than any man’s, but her work had given her a taut strength unlike any woman Jenny had ever known. As her tongue laved the curve of one small breast she tasted the sea. Strong hands, as calloused as any of the men’s, caressed her neck. Jenny felt them tremble as Woods fought not to pull her closer. Jenny took a nipple into her mouth and felt hard hands clutch at her back. Woods was groaning, her head flung back and her breath coming in gasps before Jenny left her breasts. She slid down the lean body, pulled at trouser buttons with her teeth. Woods buried her fingers in Jenny’s hair, the same as any other sailor. Jenny hooked her fingers in Woods’s waistband and pulled her to lie down on the canvas. "Now let’s see..."

Sarah lay back as she felt her trousers pushed open. More than anything she wanted to be free of them, but she let Jenny have her way. Waves of pleasure followed the soft hand that traced her belly and dipped lower, to the triangle of hair. She moaned, fighting the impulse to push the teasing hand lower.

Jenny bent down and kissed the soft flesh. Woods’s belly quivered beneath her lips. "No one’s ever done this to you before?" she asked.

"No..." Sarah managed to answer. Each sensation took her somewhere she’d never been. Fire coiled in her belly, radiated out to her fingers and toes. She cried out as she felt herself cupped by a warm hand.

"What kind of men have you been with, I wants to know," Jenny said softly. She traced a finger along the edge of Woods’s nether lips, felt the heat and wetness inches away. Experimentally she straddled the straining hips, seeing how much play her fingers would have in a hammock. Woods hissed and thrust up as her fingers buried themselves in her wet flesh. "You like that?"

"Yes..." Sarah groaned. Every breath, every little movement of Jenny’s fingers sparked pleasure through her.

"Won’t quite look like your prick’s inside me, but I’ll have me shift on," Jenny purred. "Want the rest of the boys to think you’re as randy as the rest of them, don’t we?" Her hand shifted, trying to find its way inside. "Damn, can’t get into you this way.

"I-don’t-care-" Sarah ground herself against those teasing fingers.

Jenny giggled. "Likes that well enough, don’t yer?" Her voice lowered, taking on a quality that resonated deep in Sarah’s belly. "I means ter leave you the equal of every man aboard, my female sailor bold." Sarah groaned as she felt Jenny pull her hand away. "But first, I thinks yer needs a lesson or two in how to please yourself."

"Please myself?" Sarah suddenly felt very inexperienced, and more than a little exposed.

Jenny began to unbutton her dress. "Something you badly need to know how to do in a ship full of sailors." She giggled. "Take your trousers off, sailor, so I can show you."

Sarah didn’t have to be told twice. Soon she knelt on the sails in only her loose shirt. Jenny had shed her bodice, but not her skirts. "If we has company, I can get on top of you," she explained. She lay back on the canvas and raised her skirts. "Come on, love, lie down."

Sarah did as she was told. She felt the cold air on her bare thighs, then the softness of Jenny’s skirts as the girl rolled up against her. A warm hand caressed her belly, then slid lower. Jenny’s thigh slid between hers, coaxing her legs apart. Jenny’s palm pushed against the inside of her other thigh, then made its way upward, to the place she most wanted touched. Almost--no. She heard a sound of disappointment wrung from her as Jenny’s hand skirted the wet flesh between her legs and buried itself in the hair above. Warm lips explored her neck, and the place where it joined her shoulder, leaving pleasure in their wake.

"All you has to do is touch yourself here," Jenny said, and slowly pushed her fingers between Woods’s lower lips. She smiled in the darkness as the sailor’s cry of pleasure filled the small space. Woods’s sex was hot and slippery, thrusting eagerly forward against Jenny’s hand. She found the small nub of flesh at the center of it and surrounded it with her fingers. Woods’s shoulders came off the canvas, and Jenny felt her own body go liquid in response. "Oh, my brave lad," she said softly. Knowing that she was the first to see Woods so, the only person aboard who’d be allowed to give her such pleasure was intoxicating.

It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Jenny’s fingers were everywhere, dipping inside her, then sliding through her folds, spreading her lower lips apart. Pleasure crashed through her as she felt them surround that soft nub, a part of her body she’d never given a second thought to before. Higher and higher they took her, until she felt her body explode in a moment of pure bliss that left her limp and shuddering in Jenny’s arms.

Jenny had seldom felt so content as she did lying there with a woman out of legend in her arms. She wished she could lie there forever, listening to Woods’s soft whimpers, feeling her body tremble in her arms. She was as randy as any other sailor, that was true, if not more so, and Jenny was warm with the knowledge that she was the only one who had ever seen her so. She squeaked as Woods rolled over, laying her on her back in turn.

"So is this how it’s done?" Sarah purred.

Jenny felt those roughened hands part her thighs, felt lips at her breasts and belly. "Oh!" she cried as Woods’s hand parted her wet lower lips. "I--think yer has the way of it, Jack--"

Sarah smiled as Jenny bucked under her questing fingers and felt a corresponding glow in her own nether parts. Her fingers dipped lower, wanting to be inside. They found Jenny’s wet passage and slowly she sank her fingers into it as deep as they would go.

"Oh--Jack--Oh yes!"

Sarah felt her fingers grabbed from within. She withdrew them, then thrust again. Jenny’s soft noises of pleasure filled the small space, setting her on fire. Sarah buried her face in Jenny’s belly, kissing and licking the creamy flesh as she drove her fingers in and out of her dripping cunt. She felt the passage grip her fast, so tightly she could barely move, then ripple around her hand. Jenny gave a final shuddering cry and collapsed against the canvas.

Sarah had never seen such a thing. Unsure of what to do, she withdrew her dripping fingers and held the soft body against her until Jenny quieted. She kissed the soft cheeks and stroked her hair, hoping she hadn’t done anything to hurt her. Soon, Jenny was kissing her back.

"Are you all right?"

Jenny giggled. "All right? Of course I am." She wiggled closer.

"Good," Sarah said. "I wouldn’t want to hurt ye." She kissed the soft cheek, moved on to softer lips. "I don’t see how any man could want to hurt you." She held the little tart close, understanding at last what Matty had been after. She felt sadness well up in her, knowing that she couldn’t give it to him, here aboard ship. Jenny had given, but she’d taken too, without even knowing it. It had been easier when Sarah had thought that the pale pleasure her husband had given her was all there was to making love. Somehow she knew that Matty could give her more, maybe even as much as Jenny just had. She knew she’d never dare to pay another tart’s fare. If there were any others like Jenny, she wouldn’t know how to find them.

Jenny felt the sailor’s mood change, and kissed her gently. "My Bold Sailor Lass."

Sarah smiled wistfully. "I’ll never look at a bumboat full of women the same way again."

"You can pay my fare any time," Jenny said softly. "Think all you can do is look the part now, my sweet love?"

Sarah caressed the soft hair. "I think you’ve taught me a thing or two."

"Matty’s much the same you know," Jenny said.

"Matty’s a shipmate," Sarah said.

"He loves yer very much," Jenny answered. "And I think you love him too."

Sarah sat up and reached for her trousers. "Think we’d better go before we’re missed."

Jenny sat up. "Dearie, I’m sorry--I didn’t mean anything by it--"

Sarah felt safer with her clothes back on. "I know you didn’t Jenny." How could she expect Jenny to understand? The very idea! Of course she loved Matty as a friend, but she honestly couldn’t imagine him as any more than that, and didn’t want to. But she could feel the distress in the little tart’s voice. "Come here, love." She took Jenny in her arms again. This wasn’t love, but it was as close to it as she was ever likely to come. She smiled into the darkness. "We do have to get back."

Things were still lively enough when they returned. They heard the singing from the deck below. Sarah stopped when they reached the knot of singers and joined in:

We’ll rant and we’ll roar like true British sailors, We’ll rage and we’ll roar all across the salt sea Till we receive orders for the sail for old England From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues!

When Sarah sat down on the deck, Jenny promptly slid into her lap. It was comforting to sit there singing with her mates, a warm lass in her lap, the same as many of the others. Jenny’s voice was anything but true, but she wasn’t the worst of the lot by far. Sarah couldn’t help thinking how strange it was that a woman who loved ballads as Jenny did couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket with handles. It was also comforting to see the looks her mates gave her as she sat there. Jack the prude had a surprise or two left, it seemed.

As the song ended, Jenny gave Sarah a thorough kiss. "See yer in a bit," she said softly. "If you’ll have me?"

Sarah smiled and gave Jenny a squeeze. "If Matty doesn’t get to ye first," she said. It was the same feeling of stepping out into space she’d had the first time she’d set her foot on the main royal footropes. It had seemed so easy down there in the sail locker. It was different here in the midst of a group of rough seamen, though she did her best not to let on.

Jenny jumped up. "Best you get there soon, then!" She bounced off.

"That’s no way to hold onto a tart," said Andrews, one of the seamen of her watch. "She your first?"

Styles dissolved in laughter where he sat, a woman Sarah didn’t recognize on his knee. "He won’t be having her tonight!"

Sarah smiled lazily, though inside she was shaking. "I’ve already had her, mate."

"You didn’t," Styles said.

"Whether you did or no, you won’t be having her again if you don’t step lively," Andrews said. "That was ‘follow me’ if ever I saw it."

"That’ll be the day," Styles said. "He doesn’t know what end to stick it in."

"Looks to me like she’ll show you that right enough," another sailor said.

"Aye," Andrews said. "If she hasn’t already." The group erupted in laughter.

Are we talking or singing?" Sarah asked when they had quieted.

Someone launched into the first verse of Bold Richard and they all joined in.

***

A few more songs and it was lights out. The group broke up and Sarah sought her bed, conscious of Styles and his woman as they climbed into his hammock a few yards away. There was no sign of Jenny or of Matthews, and Sarah was almost glad of it. She was tired, more tired than she could credit, and she didn’t know if she wanted to risk putting on a performance that could make her the butt of the mess’s jokes for months to come. Styles might make sure of that anyway, she thought, as she remembered his earlier words.

Her hammock had never seemed so cold, though, she thought as she remembered the warmth of Jenny’s body and the promise in her eyes. She pulled the blanket over her and tucked it in tightly as she listened to the soft noises around her.

Sleep came easy that night.

***

The next morning they woke to rain. It drummed on the deck and dripped down the ladders. As Sarah scrubbed at the planking, wetted down with salt water in foul weather or fair, she couldn’t help smiling.

"You’re in a good temper," Matthews observed quietly. "She’s a good lass, isn’t she?"

"He’ll never know," Styles said from behind them.

"That so, Styles?" Matthews asked as he used his swab to chase the water down the waterway towards the scuppers. "That’s not how Jenny tells it."

"I thought you paid her fare," Styles answered.

"That’s true, I did," said Matthews. "But I don’t mind letting her teach a mate the ropes."

"That so?" Styles asked. "When do I get a turn, then?"

"When she says she’ll have you, mate," Matthews replied. He fell silent as a petty officer passed.

As the day wore on, Sarah watched for a chance to talk to Matthews alone. The forenoon was spent loading stores, swaying casks of salt meat up from the fat hoy that came alongside them and down the main hatch to the hold. The purser was much in evidence, checking the casks and marking tallies on his slate. The line of seamen pulled and slacked in unison on the tackles as the petty officers directed. With so many hands, it was light work, but Sarah still missed having a chantey to work to. In a King’s Ship, they might have a fiddle, but no more.

The afternoon was spent shifting stores in the hold to make way for yet more casks. It was heavy work, but at least they were out of the rain. It was also a sure sign that they wouldn’t be in port much longer. It was there that Sarah finally got her chance. She took Matthews aside as they waited for the next orders.

"I don’t want Jenny to come between us," she said. "I didn’t set out to have her, and I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to."

Matthews chuckled. "Ye do have a lot to learn about women, Jack." For all that she was one, he thought to himself. "It was her that set out to have you, don’t you know that?" He clapped her on the back. "Don’t fret, I meant what I said. I wouldn’t try and tell her who she could sleep with."

"But you paid her fare," Sarah didn’t know what else to say.

"Aye, I did," Matthews said. "There are men who take that as a promise, right enough. But a fair number of us are free and easy, haven’t you noticed? And how much should a shilling buy?"

"You give her half your ration," Sarah persisted.

"I do at that," Matthews allowed. "We suit each other better than most. If you have her tonight, you’ll be doing the same."

"If I have her tonight--"

Matthews ignored the impulse to take Woods in his arms. She wouldn’t understand that any better than she did what was between him and Jenny, or maybe she’d understand only too well. "Lad, she’s been talking of little else." He chuckled again. "She plans to make you the lion of the lower deck."

Sarah nodded. "She said just about that last night." And Matty was the same as any man sometimes. "But just because a woman decides she wants someone in particular doesn’t mean the man she’s with is easy with it." She smiled, wishing it was safe to put her arms around him. "You’re a true shipmate."

"Just a man who wants all of his supper for once," Matthews said easily. He moved back toward the rest of the crew. Suddenly he felt closer to her than he was ready to be, surely closer than Jack knew. "We’ll not be here much longer, Jack, take your chances where you can find them."

"How do you reckon that?" Sarah asked.

Matthews squeezed around a cask. "We’ve been taking on provisions all day, and here we are making room for more. Sure sign we’ll soon be at sea."

***

At supper that night, Jenny sat beside Woods. She ate from his plate, and spent the evening in his company. Sarah came in for a lot of teasing, most of it kindly meant, for Woods was well liked. When lights out was called, Jenny followed Woods to his hammock. She took off her red dress and put it up across the lines that held the hammock to the deckhead.

Sarah folded her blue jacket and put it in the head of the hammock. Her belt she stowed in her seabag before untucking her loose blue shirt. Her bindings she had already removed, knowing that there would be more eyes on her than usual. She had watched her shipmates for long enough to know how they put two people in one narrow hammock. The man always seemed to get in first. She put one leg in the canvas cradle, grabbed the deck beam it hung under, and hopped up. She lay on her back and held the hammock as stable as she could while Jenny hopped up on top of her. A bit of squirming and a knowledge of the ways of a hammock and they lay on their sides, facing each other.

Matthews lay on his back in his own hammock. When the soft noises started, he couldn’t help trying to picture what was going on. He could hear them exchanging kisses, shy and quiet at first, but growing slowly more intense. Clothing rustled, and Matthews smiled as he heard Jenny’s stifled cry. If he turned his head, he could see the shadowy outline of her features. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open as Woods’s dark head moved down her neck. He felt his yard stir at the sight. Slowly, Woods pulled the shift aside. There wasn’t much room to move, but Matthews watched her as she kissed and licked every inch of Jenny’s flesh she could reach. Every so often, he’d catch a glimpse of one of Jenny’s round breasts, the nipples dark and crinkled tight.

Matthews quietly undid his trousers. He was rock hard by now and he felt heat flash through his whole body as he took himself in hand. Both of them were moaning now, and Matthews hoped their noises would cover the few sounds he might make. He saw Jenny rise up and straddle Woods, hanging onto the deck beam for balance. Her shift fell back over her, hiding those beautiful breasts. He felt a pulse deep in his balls as he remembered how it felt to be buried deep inside her. How were they managing it, he wondered? There was little doubt that they were. He could see Woods biting her lip, trying to be as quiet as possible. Jenny’s hips were moving, for all the world as if she was burying a hard shaft as deeply in her as she could. Her panting breaths set Matthews on fire as he realized why he hadn’t seen Woods’s hands. The other hammock was nudging against him every so often as the passion within it built. Matthews had seen that expression on Jenny’s face before, it was easy to imagine her on top of him as he stroked his rigid flesh. But Woods, her mouth open, her breath coming in gasps she couldn’t silence completely, was a sight to take a man’s breath away. He wished he was the one bringing her pleasure, wished he could put his hand across the few inches that separated them. He felt his own pleasure take him then, his cock spurting under the blanket. He lay there blissfully after, the sounds from the other hammock fading as he slipped into sleep.

***

Sarah stumbled out of bed by force of will, and formed up on deck with the rest of her division. She was tired enough not to notice the knowing looks directed her way. It had been hard leaving Jenny in her hammock. If anything, the girl was even softer in the morning. She couldn’t get the sight of her, curled up on her side under the blanket, out of her mind.

"Jack—" Sarah felt Matthews’s elbow jab into her side. "Come on, Captain’s coming aboard!" The rest of their division was moving to the other side of the ship. They formed up properly as the calls shrilled and the captain climbed aboard. He touched his hat to the quarterdeck and she felt his eyes pass over her briefly as they took the measure of his ship and crew. Mr. Hornblower scrambled aboard behind him, resplendent in a new uniform and stood quietly by as Pellew spoke briefly to Bowles. As they were called to breakfast, she saw yet another hoy standing away from the shore.

All the day long they loaded stores, heavy casks of water and bags of biscuit. It was plain to all aboard that they would soon be leaving, and sure enough, word was passed by the first dog that all wives would be going ashore by the end of the forenoon tomorrow.

Sarah was caught between conflicting emotions as she worked. Life had surely been simpler before Jenny had come. She wondered if it would ever be that way again. Now that she knew the power of her body, would she be able to pretend it didn’t exist? In some ways this was worse than not knowing. She would never dare to take a tart as her shipmates did. Her disguise, once her means of freedom, now condemned her to a life of loneliness.

On the one side, a life of hard work and the freedom of the sea. On the other... Sarah’s thoughts caught against themselves like badly coiled line. Memories of her childhood at sea conflicted with the reality of her married life and her life as a seaman. She’d been admired as a girl, for her skills and for her father’s fishing boat, someday to be hers. She wondered, had she ever been admired for herself? Paul surely hadn’t. Plenty of men had courted her before her father’s boat had been wrecked. Where had they been afterwards, she wondered?

Sarah’s common sense finally surfaced as she remembered. Her father had whisked her away to his sister’s house before anyone could do much of anything and taken himself to Portsmouth. He was too proud to work on someone else’s boat and too old to build another, he said. She’d been too young to understand the depths of his despair before he’d been far away, as lost to her as her old life. When she’d shown up in Portsmouth, he’d married her off as soon as he could, to the first man she’d fallen for who’d have her. At the time, all she’d seen was a handsome seaman and a way to help her father. What a silly girl she’d been! The one was a layabout and the other was beyond help. But when her father died, Paul was all she had. She’d believed every word that came out of his mouth, at least at first. Was she really as poor a thing to look upon as he’d said?

With that thought, Sarah knew her mind, at last. She’d fled the shore for good reason. Paul’s brother would never have allowed her to keep the boats, and without them, how could she have earned a living? If she went ashore now it would be the same. The only trade she knew was the sea. If she’d wanted just any man to keep her, Paul’s brother had offered to take her with the boats. Even now the idea was distasteful. If a fine, pretty woman like Jenny couldn’t get herself a husband, what chance did a rough sailor have?

Jenny... For a wild moment Sarah wondered what it would be like if she went ashore and married Jenny. Did her prize money and pay amount to enough to buy a boat? Even if it did, deserters didn’t get their pay, and would they give it to a woman who’d till lately been a man? And once her secret was revealed, she couldn’t marry Jenny any more. Sarah smiled as she took the next sack, and turned to pass it to the next man in line. Back and forth, back and forth, with only her thoughts to keep her company. Matty? Jenny had said that he loved her. More than once, Sarah had wondered how deep his feelings ran. No. That was a door better left shut.

From sacks of biscuit, they moved on to casks of water and then on to cordage and other boatswain’s stores. Supper was a welcome end to the day. Sarah noticed that Matthews and Jenny didn’t even make it to the table, but it was strange, her anger was gone.

Deep in the ship, Jenny and Matthews said their goodbyes. After their bodies had had their say, they lay in each other’s arms, talking. Not surprisingly, they eventually spoke of Woods.

"Can’t one woman per mess stay aboard?" Jenny asked plaintively.

Oh, how he wished it were so, thought Matthews. "Not in Pellew’s ship," he said. He ruffled the soft brown hair. "He doesn’t think that the lasses should sail into battle." He leaned in for another kiss.

"I could dress as a sailor--it worked for Woods!"

Matthews chuckled. "Jack was a seaman before he ever came aboard, Jenny." He cuddled her closer. "You’re all woman, you wouldn’t last a day!"

"You don’t think Woods is all woman, then?" Jenny smiled wickedly. "I could tell you tales, Ben Matthews."

"Oh aye, I’m sure you could--but I got an eyeful last night, love." Matthews ran his hands over her sweet flesh.

"Oh did you?" Jenny asked. "I thought you was asleep."

"If he’d known I was awake, I thought he might stop," Matthews admitted. "Didn’t want to ruin your plan."

"Naughty boy!" Jenny slapped at Matthews playfully. "You just wanted to watch!"

"And if I did?" Matthews kissed her throat. "Wouldn’t any lad?"

"You should do more than watch, Matty. She wants you to."

Matthews sighed. "I told you before, Jenny, he said no. If he isn’t sure, isn’t ready, or just doesn’t want me, it’s all of a piece."

"Wish I’d known you were watching," said Jenny. "Hope the rest of the gundeck was."

"You’d know I was watching tonight," Matthews said. "You haven’t said your goodbyes to Jack, now have ye?"

***

Down hammocks had already been piped when Jenny and Matthews made it back to the gundeck. To Matthews’s surprise, his hammock was slung as always, and Woods was in hers already. Matthews climbed into his and reached across to pat Woods on the shoulder.

"Thanks, mate."

"Thought you’d be busy," Sarah replied sleepily. She was startled awake as Jenny’s hands crept in from the head of the hammock. "Here, now--"

"What, you won’t have me?" Jenny said playfully.

"It’s your last night aboard, love," Sarah said. "You should go with the man as paid your fare."

"If the lass wants to say her goodbyes, let her," Matthews said. "We had a rare tumble below. I don’t think I’m up for another just yet, Jack."

Sarah wasn’t sure she was either, but did what was expected of any seaman. "Since ye put it that way, thankee, Matty."

A light hop and some determined wriggling later, Sarah and Jenny lay belly to belly in the hammock.

"I don’t know if I can," Sarah whispered in Jenny’s ear. "I’m sorry, lass--you can go to Matty if you like." Suddenly the thought of making love in front of the whole gundeck, even if everyone else was doing the same thing, was terrifying. There was one seaman, after all, who would be very aware of what was going on.

"What, you think that’s all saying goodbye is?" Jenny whispered back. She kissed the tanned cheek. "We doesn’t have to do a thing, love." She reached up to stroke Woods’s face. "I just want to be wiv you, any way you’ll have me.

At that, Sarah’s newly constructed world began to crumble. She slid her arms around the soft girl. "I’ll miss you, Jenny," she said. She might never see this girl again, she might never be touched like that by anyone else again. Could she live her life like that? She couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks. Why couldn’t Jenny have just gone to Matty, and then ashore?

Jenny held Woods close, silently giving what comfort she could. Of all things, this was the last she’d ever expected of her strong sailor lass. She wanted desperately to ask her what was wrong, but the rest of the gundeck didn’t need to know. When tears gave way to sleep, she eventually slept too.

***

Sarah woke the next morning to find herself held tightly in Jenny’s arms. As memory of the night before returned, she wished she’d never woken. She tried to slip out of the embrace, but Jenny woke.

"Got to use the head," she whispered desperately.

"They haven’t been through yet, have they?" Jenny whispered back.

"No," Sarah answered.

"Can you wait a bit?" Jenny asked. "I just wanted to apologize for last night."

"If anyone should say they’re sorry it’s me, Jenny."

"I don’t want us to part like this," Jenny said quickly. "I may never see you again, but if I do, I wants you to pay my fare. If I’d known--"

Sarah put gentle fingers to Jenny’s lips. "It’s all right, love. If you’re on the boat, I’ll pay your fare, if Matty doesn’t beat me to it."

***

As the sails were sheeted home and the great yards braced around to catch the wind, the topmen slid nimbly down the backstays and went smartly to their stations. Sarah felt the ship come to life, the staid rise and fall of a vessel at anchor giving way to the waltzing roll of a ship under sail, going where the wind and her master’s hand bade her. She smiled into the wind as the joy of being free again took her too. The land was falling away and with it her fears as well. She looked back briefly toward it and saw Matthews doing the same, one hand on the pinrail to steady himself. He turned as if he felt her eyes on him. His smile was wistful and Sarah wondered if he was thinking of Jenny. He grabbed a line from the many that lay in untidy piles under the pinrail and Sarah did the same as a petty officer passed. Together with the other sailors they worked their way down the rail.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"For what?" Matthews asked. He pulled a loop of line through his newly finished coil and hung it neatly from the pin, then grabbed the next one.

Sarah suddenly felt awkward. "For sharing." She concentrated on the loops of line falling neatly together on the deck.

Matthews couldn’t help but remember her face as she and Jenny had shared the hammock next to him. "She’s the one you should thank, mate." He hoped Woods would leave it at that. It had been harder to say goodbye to Jenny than he’d expected.

"I miss her," Woods said. "I almost wish I’d never met her."

The same wistful smile touched Matthews’s lips. "Aye, I know what you mean, Jack. I know just what you mean."

END

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