The King`s Coat

Take your time, spoon 'em up with kisses and cream and they'll sit on it like it was the crown jewels. Give 'em half a choice an' you can whistle before they'd let you. But tell 'em, and they melt. Some of' em, anyway…

One hand held a breast, one hand pressed at the base of her belly, twining in the mossy growth still damp with their passion. It was a matter of moments to have her out of her gown, to shuck his own rags, to peel her stockings off, unlace her corset and tumble into bed on top of her. As though mesmerized, she allowed herself to be opened, to be molded and kissed and stroked into panting ruin once more, and then again, and again…

The candles guttered down in puddles of tallow before he allowed her to insist, and win, that she must depart. By his watch it was nearly three in the morning, and the house was dead quiet as he lit her down the stairs with a stub of a candle. She pressed a note with her address into his hand, told him that her only servant had the day off on Thursdays, which was soon, that he must not even consider ever seeing her again, and that there was a garden gate entrance to her lodgings on a quiet side street, but that he must desist in his passion before her husband shot him dead! She slunk into her coach, practically the last one still on the grounds, and plodded away at a pace that would not draw undue attention as birds began to twitter in the trees. ’Now maybe I can eat that bird,' Lewrie said aloud.

He found another candle by a cardtable as his own guttered out, then trod softly back up the stairs in his stockinged feet. Once in his room he slid out of his clothes and went to the tray. The wine was enough for a full bumper and still cool. And the cold meat and crusty bread went down pleasantly. He was sitting at the small table stark naked and chewing lustily when he heard a tiny noise in the hall. It brought a grin. Somebody sneaking back to their 'lawful blanket,' I'll warrant…

A shadow stopped outside his door. A moment later a folded note was pushed with some force under the gap of the door, sliding three or four feet into the room across the polished boards. ’She's surely not come back for more,' he scoffed, rising to pick it up and read it. He almost spilled his wine when he realized what he held. Evidently Mrs. Hillwood, the faded blond lady, had not been pleased by his choice of Mrs. Haymer. If she herself had slipped the note under the door, then she had stayed as someone's guest for the night- he hoped it was Tad Purnell. But she was inviting him to attend her if the Navy did not require him.

Damme, I love the Navy, he thought happily. Where else can I get into so much mischief, so quickly? 'I trust you both eqjoyed Sir Richard's dinner party,' Kenyon said as they rode back through town in the coach.

It was much too early for Alan. He had barely gotten to sleep when a servant had arrived with hot coffee and sweetened rolls and practically pushed him into his clothing. He had scarcely had time to shave, not that that was yet a daily necessity. ’Oh, aye, sir,' he said, worn down to a nubbin. He could not have felt much worse if he had emptied the punchbowl down his own gullet and retired a puking corpse.

Purnell, on the other hand, glowed in silence with a mystified expression, all youthful innocence. Evidently he had had a restful sleep after his introduction to the Alpha and Omega of pleasure. But his beatific pose was betrayed by the lacetrimmed handkerchief that peeked from a waistcoat pocket. As soon as they had gotten into the coach, Purnell had grinned so hugely that Lewrie was sure that Mrs. Hillwood had been most generous with her favors. Now, Alan's main concern was if he wished to avail himself of those same favors, and just how he would go about it if he did.

The somber heat and stillness of the day before had gone with the approach of clouds from the east, and a cooling wind blew dead foul for Antigua, perhaps delaying their sailing. It was only Wednesday, and their distinguished passengers would not board until evening, with a dawn departure planned on the land breeze Thursday, but if the Trades did not back to the nor'east it would be a hard beat just to clear Morant Point, clawing off a lee shore. They would not risk their passengers to that, surely. ’I don't think we're going to get a fair wind by moming,' Lieutenant Kenyon said, surveying the harbor and the wind indicators. ’Too much easterly for a storm, isn't it, sir?' Lewrie said. 'And too late in the year for a hurricane, I'd have thought.’

’Perhaps, oh nautical one.' Kenyon laughed. 'I shall send Mister Purnell to the flag with a message concerning this wind shift. I doubt if they wish to hazard our lord and lady. We may be delayed.’

’Dh, good,' Alan said without thinking. ’Have you some ulterior motive for wishing to stay in Kingston, Mister Lewrie?'. ’Well, there are my pay-certificates, sir. Now I have them, I… have wanted a sextant, like Mister Ellison had in Ariadne. They are more accurate than a quadrant, and if we have to thread up the Bahamas again I would feel more secure in my reckoning. I hear they are fifteen guineas but I may find one for less with something to pledge for credit.’

Kenyon only stared at him, and Lewrie dropped back in his seat, suddenly intent on the view, hoping his lie might suit.

But their departure was delayed; the flag did not wish to send a lord to his death on a lee shore, nor did the local admiral desire to have his career end suddenly by losing an important government official. The Cantners would not board Parrot until Thursday evening for a Friday departure. The mail was not a priority, nor were any orders they carried of an urgent nature that would allow no delay of transportation.

Lewrie went below to change into fresh clothing after sweating up what he had worn at dinner and sport. He also had the wardroom servant haul up a bucket of salt-water so that he could sponge himself somewhat clean in the privacy of his tiny cabin. ’Mister Lewrie,' Kenyon called from the hatch to his cabins. 'I believe you have some shopping to do?’

‘Aye, sir,' he said, halfway into a clean shirt. ’So do I, and Mister Claghorne does not begrudge remaining in charge for a while longer. At the end of the Day Watch I will allow you to go ashore with me. We'll leave Mister Purnell here to pursue his own endeavors.’

’Aye aye, sir!' Lewrie scribbled a quick note and passed it to a passing bumboat with a shilling for delivery and the return of an answer, taking care that no one noticed.

Within two hours, a message was returned to him. Mrs. Hillwood would be at home for tea, and would be delighted to have him join her. ’Alan,' Purnell said, once they were aft by the taffrail deep in the flag lockers for inventory. 'It was wonderful!’

‘I thought you did, you little rogue! How does it feel to be a buck of the first head?' he congratulated. 'Grand, she gave me her handkerchief. It still has her perfume… her…' Tad blushed crimson. 'Next time you're back in Kingston you'll have a place to go,' Alan told him, cringing a bit that he was soon to be coupled with the same woman. 'Uhm… how was she?’

‘Well, she was very slim, as you might have noticed. Not bad, though. I thought she was going to eat me alive for a time there…' Tad answered, with a sly, adult grin. 'How grand for you,' Alan said, smiling at the news that Mrs. Hillwood enjoyed devouring midshipmen. He was aching with anticipation by the time he and Lieutenant Kenyon were dropped off at the boat landing a little after 4:00 P.M. as the town began to awaken from the hottest part of the day, and cooling shadows lengthened. ’I shall sup at the Grapes, yonder,' Kenyon said, pointing to a modest and homely Georgian-style inn. 'I wish you back here before midnight. May I trust you, Mister Lewrie?’

‘Aye, sir,' Lewrie said, wondering if Kenyon thought he was going to take 'leg-bail' from the Navy. 'Then leave the lady's address with the doorkeeper at the inn, should I need you before then,' Kenyon said, making Lewrie gape at Kenyon's powers of observation. 'How did you know it was a lady, sir?' he said, flummoxed. ’That is for masters and commanders to know, and for rutting midshipmen to discover later in their careers. Now off with you, and if you truly do find a sextant for less than fifteen guineas,let me known if they have another.’

’Aye, sir.' Lewrie was continually amazed by Kenyon and his attitude toward him. It was much more lenient than he had come to expect from a Sea Officer toward a lowly midshipman of so little practical experience. He thought that Kenyon truly liked him, and he knew that he had made great progress in gaining nautical skills as a result of it, but the exact reasons why it was so nagged at him. Who else would be a co-conspirator in his designs on a lonely grass-widow? It was almost beyond credence, and there were times that Alan felt that there was a debt building up which might someday have to be repaid. And, being born a leery soul…! He found Mrs. Hillwood's building, a great walled enclosure with a central court and front double iron gate that opened off a quiet side street. On the alleys there were discreet servants' entrances. Normally, he would be scratching at one of those, but this afternoon he was an openly invited guest, so he entered the court and was faced with several apartments. Mrs. Hillwood's number was on the second floor overlooking the court and its garden and fish pool.

The door was opened by a black maidservant, and he heard the tinny tinkling of a harpsichord and the munnur