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and restore sensation. He watched over Davy’s shoulder as he unrolled the chart and ran a finger along the coastline. “We should be near our rendezvous already, I think—ah, here it is. Not far. ”
    “Yes…I thought it would be best if we were to arrive the same day he’s due to signal, but with this weather I believe it’s better to put in a day early. There’s not much of a town there, from what Sir Percy said in our orders—we’d have no good reason to hang about.” He pointed to a curve in the coastline some miles away from the village. “This should serve. We can be there by dark, and that spit of land will block the worst of the wind.”
    Standing close, Davy leaned against him, the curve of his arse brushing against Marshall’s thigh. “Do you think the wind will be noisy enough to give us some privacy?”
    Marshall’s body arched toward his lover with a will of its own and his heart wanted to follow, but he caught himself. “No, I’m afraid not. In this dirty weather I think one of us should be on deck, or at least awake, as much of the time as possible.”
    “I wasn’t talking about sleeping , Will.”
    “I know, but you’re the one who said we’d need to be on best behavior.”
    Davy nodded reluctantly. Letting his head drop back against Will’s shoulder, he said, “Yes, I did. But I didn’t expect you’d set the bar so high.”
    “I’m in command now, Davy. I can’t—it doesn’t seem right—to do things I might have chanced as a lieutenant. If one of the men were to come in…”
    Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Davy’s eyes close, and his lips tighten. “I see. You’re right, of course.”
    Marshall leaned down, and gave him a small but lingering kiss. “Soon. I promise.”
    “Of course.” His face composed and unreadable, Davy stepped back from the table. “I’ll go above for a bit, while you work out the navigation.” He lifted his greatcoat from the hook by the door, and settled his hat upon his head. “Shall I tell the cook to hold our supper until just after sunset, then?”
    “That would be good, yes. Davy, I’m—”
    “Not at all, Will, you’re absolutely right. With any luck, we’ll be taking Dr. Colbert directly back to England, so perhaps we can manage a night ashore once we’re there, and if not…” He shrugged, and left the cabin before Will could think of anything to say.
    Davy wasn’t being fair. No, that was a lie. He wasn’t being fair to Davy. They’d had only that one night together. They were still in port the night after their reunion, but since the Mermaid needed to go out with the tide and that meant leaving before dawn, they had simply slept aboard, in hammocks a little more comfortable than Navy-issue, but separate nonetheless. Will wished now that they’d kept their room at the inn, but as Captain it was his duty to put the mission first, no matter what his personal desires might be. They had completed their mission, the first mission of his new command, successfully and in good time. That ought to count for something.
    And he’s the one who arranged all this! He’s no fool—he must have known it wasn’t going to be a pleasure cruise!
    But far from justifying his self-righteous attitude, Will’s memory threw back the times he had been willing to take chances—dangerous, foolish chances, in situations far more uncertain than this. And he did not even want to think about the chances Davy had taken for him, because that would be a reminder of the time their luck had failed. Not to mention the danger that lay in wait as soon as France and England resumed hostilities.
    Marshall wasn’t used to fear—not for himself, at any rate. He went into every battle knowing he might die, hoping that if he did, it would be quick. But this new fear came close to swamping him if he looked at it too closely. It was damaging him as an officer and even as a lover. He was becoming afraid to take chances.
    Do you really believe that if you