Sex is good, but I’d rather be sailing

“Jack, what is the matter?”

“This cannot be right.” He sat in front of a pile of papers, his face screwed in concentration like a little boy facing long division.

“Come back to bed. It will be there later. Our one respite from Mother. Please.”

“The figures cannot be right.”

Sophie sighed as she wrapped her dressing gown around her naked body. “The mine again?”

“We cannot have spent this much.”

“But we have, dear.” She softly kissed his cheek. “Let it be, just for now. Come back to bed. Please, Jack?”

“How I hate being a shore captain, Sophie.”

Food is nice, but I’d rather be sailing

“A wonderful repast, Mrs Harte.”

“Thank you, Captain Taylor.” As he turned to speak to her husband, Molly grabbed the opportunity to corral Jack. “You’ve barely said a word to me all evening, Captain Aubrey.”

“There was not much opportunity.”

“Oh, bah to my husband. Where is your friend? The odd little doctor?”

“Attending to a patient. He sends his apologies.”

“You should apologise for having ignored me.”

“I’m sorry, Molly.”

“You look so dull, Jack. You hardly ate a thing. I watched you.”

“Problems weigh heavy on shore.”

Watching her husband, she replied, “I know it all too well.”

People are swell, but I’d rather be sailing over the horizon.

“You have been out every night this week. It is not healthful activity. Instead of walking the heights, as you should, you have been eating and drinking far more than you ought.”

“I have no need of a lecture.”

“It has made you quite ill.” Stephen turned back to his packing. “Where is my asp?”

“Your what?”

“My asp. A snake preserved in spirits.”

“Oh, that?” Jack pointed.

“Thank you, my dear.”

“Would you care for some music?”

“Certainly. Handel?”

“Whatever you like.” But Jack played with no pleasure. “My heart will not be easy until we are afloat again.”


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