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aright. It seemed so crude, so reminiscent of the barnyard, but this was before her dalliance with Nathan.
    ‘How can I be calm?’ Romilly raved. ‘I am being sent into exile.’
    ‘Very dramatic,’ Alvina said, still smiling. ‘You say that Jamie will accompany you, so that’s all right. And what were you doing with Nathan Westbury anyway? And why did you allow yourself to be found out? Tell me about Nathan. Is he well endowed?’
    ‘Oh, Alvina, he seemed very big, but how can I judge? I’ve not seen a man’s thingy before.’
    At this Alvina rocked with mirth. ‘Lack-a-day, listen to it. All of eighteen and you’ve never handled a cock. Shame on you! What about Jamie? Hasn’t he tried to seduce you?’
    Romilly’s face was fiery, but she stuck out her chin and answered sharply, ‘Not really. Not like Nathan. I think he wants to, but respects me.’
    ‘Respect, fiddle-sticks!’ Alvina retorted. ‘Every man wants to find a nest for his prick. I’m sorry, dearest, but these home truths have to be said. You’re far too naïve.’
    ‘And you’re so confident. I wish I was more like you.’
    Romilly looked at her friend, admiring her green watered silk gown, with its tiny waist and low neckline. Her breasts were rounded domes, pushed high by the stiff busk and lacing. Her skirt sprang out over several petticoats, and she wore satin shoes with square toes, long tongues and spindle heels. The emphasis was on bare necklines, throats and shoulders, the gowns designed to look as if they might well slip too low, displaying rosy nipples. There were flowing scarves and capes and feathered hats with big brims, the whole effect one of Arcadian freedom, these styles popularised by the King’s bevy of mistresses.
    ‘Darling child, you have everything to be confident about.’ Alvina reached out and took her hand, stroking her fingers. ‘Think of it as an adventure. Jamaica! Heavens, what sport!’
    ‘Will you come with me?’ Romilly sank down in front of her and rested her head against those luscious breasts. ‘I can’t leave you, dearest friend.’
    She breathed in her perfume, a combination of lilies, the scent of her hair and that special, intimate and sweet odour all her own. A strange thought entered her mind of how fortunate was the lover who enjoyed the bounty of Alvina’s lush body. She experienced a sharp ache in her womb and a sensation of longing to hold and be held in those alabaster arms.
    ‘It’s possible,’ Alvina said thoughtfully. ‘I’ve heard reports that the West Indies and the coasts thereabouts are strange and marvellous places, with natives and sea monsters, pirates and I don’t know what-all. I should like to see it for myself.’
    ‘Dare I hope that you will come?’ Romilly’s spirits were already lifting at the prospect.
    ‘I shall speak to my father who will talk it over with yours. Yes, my love, I’d like that. Jamaica! Who knows, I might find my future husband there, or a string of lovers at the very least.’
Chapter III
    ‘How much longer, Captain Willard?’ Romilly asked, seated at the dinner table in the oak-panelled, well-furnished main cabin in the stern of the May Belle .
    He smiled at her, a ruggedly handsome man, a mariner to his fingertips, controlling his crew, the vessel and his passengers with an ease born of long practice. ‘A day or two at the most, my lady, if the wind proves fair. It should do if I’m any judge of the elements, and I’ve been a sailor since I was fourteen. We’ll reach Jamaica ahead of time.’
    ‘La, what a relief that will be,’ sighed Alvina, eyeing him encouragingly as she had done since the moment they boarded at London docks. But she’d not made much headway, for he took his duties very seriously. His officers, however, were more susceptible.
    Two had joined them that evening, and they were young and personable, swaggering in the presence of the guests, well aware that they held positions of authority, sons of noblemen,