Chapter 1

The bitter cold wind howled as the small boat moved between the lumps of sea-ice off the Coast of Newfoundland on the 30^th of April 1815. John Prentice, a press-ganged seaman who had been imprisoned on HMS Penelope, a troop carrier, had managed to board a small boat. The boat at the time had been half filled with water. Using his hands John managed to scoop much of the water out of the boat, lifting the gunwales higher.

HMS Penelope had sunk, drowning many members of the crew. The ones drowned were mostly press-ganged seamen, while other members of the crew made it safely to land. Also in the boat was a young lieutenant who was dead. How the Lieutenant died was unknown, but he had been a good friend of John, his name was Gerald Harvey-Watkins. Many on board had mistaken them for twins, they looked so alike.

John Prentice was a top-man on the 2^nd starboard watch; Midshipman Harvey-Watkins was the Midshipman of the watch. When Midshipman Harvey Watkins was preparing for his Lieutenant's exam they spent hours in the lower or topmast cross trees. John who could read and write, a rare quality for the lower deck, would ask questions from the Midshipman's books. John ended up knowing as much as Gerald did about the subjects needed for the Naval Lieutenants Examination Board.

John was loath to cast Gerald's body over the side, but he knew he would have to. John looked at the warm clothes that Gerald wore, woollen coat, waistcoat and cotton shirt and all he had was rough, torn canvas top and trousers. He knew the punishment for wearing an officer's clothing, but he needed to keep warm. So after baling out the boat he stripped the Lieutenant of his clothes, the ring and the medallion from around his neck, dropping his body into the Atlantic.

What a difference John felt with the new clothes on, even though it was still cold he felt within himself a lot warmer. Unfortunately this boat didn't have the small water cask which was usually stowed under the stern seat; in fact there was nothing loose at all, just the bare boat. He could paddle with his hands, but that would get him nowhere. Even the rudder was missing, so all he could do was drift with the current.

The Newfoundland current he was in would take him deep into the Atlantic Ocean towards the Gulf Stream. Every minute he was moving further and further from land. After three days he was glad for a rain shower, but the only way he could drink the water was like a dog, lapping it up on his hands and knees. Unfortunately the water tasted salty, but not as salty as sea water.

John was becoming delusional, he was seeing ships that weren't there and was beginning to give up all hope of being rescued. Alongside him the sea became calm, then up out of the ocean rose a translucent half sphere about thirty feet in diameter. The only way he knew it was a sphere was the sea appeared to now have a trough as deep as the sphere was tall out of the water.

John could see the sea right through it, but then it became opaque and a door started to slid open, level with the boat.

"How are you feeling Lieutenant?" Asked a male Welsh voice.

'He called me Lieutenant, ' John noticed and was about to correct him when he remembered he took Gerald's clothes from him before dumping his body. He had also worn the Lieutenant's ring and medallion. If he denied he was the Lieutenant he could be hung for stealing, so he said nothing.

"We will be arriving Spithead in an hours time, I'll send a message to the Naval Authorities in Portsmouth that we have you on board," the Welshman continued.

It was then he found out the Welshman was the first officer and this must be a private ship, not a naval one. "How long have I been unconscious?" Asked John?

"Since we picked you up two days ago, but you were in excellent health other than being out for the count. What ship are you from and why were you floating in that boat off Plymouth?"

"I'm from HMS Penelope, we ran into icebergs off Newfoundland. I managed to get on this boat and just drifted."

"You couldn't have drifted all the way across the Atlantic, tide and wind would have been against you. Also your physical condition is not of one who has been shipwrecked and drifting for over a month."

It was then he remembered the sphere, the door opening and then nothing until the Welshman spoke to him.

"I took the liberty of searching you Lieutenant Harvey-Watkins and I also recognised your family crest on your medallion. My father works on one of your fathers estates and the crest is on the main gates. I'm John Lloyd, first officer of Malta Rose out of Boston."

John was about to say, I'm John also, but quickly changed, "I'm Gerald, thank you for picking me up."

"I still can't see how you managed to survive in such good condition and crossing the Atlantic in so small a boat," he said rising and leaving Gerald (John) lying in the hammock cot.

'I'll better start calling myself Gerald until I can get off this ship and lose myself in Portsmouth, ' John said to himself quietly. 'On board the ship the officers and crew thought Gerald and I were like two peas in a pod, maybe I can bluff my way out of this mess.'

John Prentice hadn't been ashore for five years, from the time the Press-Gang had taken him in Chatham when he was on his way to his mother's funeral. Pressed men weren't allowed to leave the ship, so it will be a new experience for Gerald to have his feet on land once more.

Four hours later John Lloyd returned and by this time Gerald was up and dressed in his neatly pressed and washed uniform. "There is a longboat waiting to take you ashore, so better not keep the Captain of the Dockyard waiting, I hear he is a real stickler on punctuality for junior officers," John told him smiling. The signs of fear on Gerald's face weren't the fear of the Captain, but of being discovered an impostor.

It was a long haul from the middle of the Solent, through the race at the harbour mouth, for the ride was receding and up to the steps into the Dockyard. All the way in John (Gerald now) was wondering to himself how he was going to avoid the meeting. His mouth was dry and he could almost feel the noose around his neck already.

The boat pulled away right after Gerald stepped on to the slimy surface of the stone steps, which lead up to the dock above. His fear was soon corrected when a party of seaman saluted him. He quickly saluted back remembering he was wearing an officer's uniform. He had no idea where the Captain of the Dockyard's office was, but a dockyard worker quickly pointed out the brick building.

To say that he had legs of lead would be an understatement as he entered through the portals of the building. Coming out of one of the rooms was another lieutenant.

"You must be Lieutenant Harvey Watkins, I've just brought your mother here to meet you, she is with the Captain at this moment. Let me show you the way. Quite a remarkable journey you have made, how I envy you," he jabbered on shaking Gerald's hand as he said it.

"Oh God this is it. Gerald's mother, she will spot him as an impostor in seconds," (John) Gerald thought. Gerald had told him how close he and his mother were and how he hardly ever saw his father. (John) Gerald thought of turning and running there and then, but at least he could explain what had happened and return the ring and medallion to her.

The Lieutenant knocked on a double door and a gruff voice answered. What was said Gerald couldn't hear for the rushing sound in his ears. When the doors opened he marched in smartly and saluted the elderly wigged Captain who was standing at the side of his desk, with a beautiful woman by his side.

"No need to be so formal Lieutenant Harvey-Watkins, we are after all old family friends." The Captain said, but all the same returned the salute.

The woman rushed forward and hugged Gerald, her ample bosom pressing into his chest. The perfume she wore was overpowering and strong, but he could still smell her body odour, which overpowered him. She kissed him on both cheeks as he kept his arms to his side, afraid to touch her.

"Gerald it is your mama; poor boy you must have been through hell. I need to take you home with me and nurse you back to your old self." She said in a sharp voice. "Will you let me take him home with me Humphrey?" She said turning to look at the Captain.

Surely a mother could tell her own son, surely he didn't resemble her son that much, yet she appeared to think he indeed was her Gerald.

"You can have him once I have a talk with him Magdalene. There are some things I have to say to him and some information I need to know," he replied to her question.

Again Gerald's mother kissed him on the cheeks and patted his cheek with her silk covered hand as she looked into his eyes. The look she gave wasn't the look a mother would give her son, but (John) Gerald may have been mistaken. Anyway he was enthralled with her already, for he had never seen so elegantly dressed and beautiful woman before.

Once the mother had swept out of the room the Captain's attitude changed. He picked up a sheet of paper which was obviously a letter. "Tell me Lieutenant, who is or was the Captain of His Majesty's Ship Penelope?"

"Why Commander James Galloway and not was, for he had landed with a large shore party."

"Mmm, well you got that right. Now tell me how you crossed from one side of the Atlantic to the other and on June 4^th were picked up by the trader Malta Rose unconscious, but in good health. Not only in good health, but dressed in a spotless clean uniform as though out on a day's sail."

"The last I remember was three days after the sinking, drinking rainwater from the bottom of the boat. I have no idea what happened between those dates."

"There is no way a small boat could supposedly travel three thousand miles, without sail, oars or rudder. And from the Captain of the Malta Rose no sign of water or food. It is very hard to believe your story, but no report has been heard from the Penelope to confirm your story."

"I have no idea myself how I survived Sir," Gerald answered.

"I have other news for you, which would have been given to you when you returned. The Board of the Admiralty is reducing numbers and you have been taken off the Active List. You may return home with Lady Magdalene, but I may want to speak to you again once I hear from Commander Galloway."

Gerald saluted and left by the door that Lady Magdalene had done. It led into a small office, Lady Magdalene and a young woman dressed in servants attire was sitting on two chairs. The both of them rose and Magdalene linked her arm into Gerald's.

"The coach is outside, we can either go home or spend the night in an Inn, which will it be?" She said with a smile to her rouge coloured lips.

Without waiting on an answer from Gerald, she turned to the young woman who was walking beside her.

"You go and ride alongside Peter I have to talk privately with my son Rosanna."

Rosanna courtesies, and moved towards the front of the coach.

"Lo siento de tomar su asiento en el entiendor, la senorita," Gerald said to the young woman. Then he realised he had spoken in Spanish, a language he had only heard on scant occasions.

[I'm sorry to take your seat in the coach, young lady.]

To which Rosanna replied, "No es inconveniente senor." She said this with a demure smile on her face.

["It is no inconvenience, sir."]

"You spoke to Rosanna in Spanish, when did you start speaking Spanish, Gerald? In three months you appear to have gained the use of another language it appears," asked Magdalene who looked astounded at her son.

Gerald himself had no idea and how did he know she was Spanish, yet he could think of no Spanish words in his head. This indeed seemed strange.

"We will get out of Portsmouth and spend the night at the inn in Porchester, so please Peter, let's get out of here," Magdalene said to the coach driver.

"Yes my Lady," Peter replied.

John Prentice knew that Gerald was from a well-to-do family, but it looks as though they are a bit more upper-class than he imagined. Gerald got into the coach and sat beside Magdalene who threw a travelling rug over their legs. The hood was down and he would have preferred to sit in the seats opposite her. If he had sat there he would have had to lean forward to hear her. It was obvious she wanted to talk to him without shouting, so he had sat beside her. Magdalene was a beautiful woman and he would have liked to see her full facial features. Rosanna and Peter rode up an a sprung seat in front and it would be difficult for them to hear what was said between mother and son.

They moved off and followed the road alongside the walls of the dockyard, bypassing the main town and into the countryside. Gerald was really taken back by the actions of Magdalene. No sooner had they left the town when her hand went under the travelling rug and calmly unbuttoned the front flat of his trousers. Plunging her bare hand inside, wrapping her hand around his now erect penis shaft.

"Have you been misusing yourself Gerald, for I'm sure you have grown a few inches since you left. Was it the thought of you and I that made you do it," she asked, while looking him in the eye.

Gerald had said he loved his mother very much, but John never realised he had been shagging her. To have such a beautiful woman grasping his cock so lovingly, was beyond his wildest dreams. This was something he only dreamt about, so surely he must still be in a dream.

What Magdalene was doing was something he never attributed to the rich and famous, but here in this carriage it was happening. Then without any warning he spurted his sperm and Magdalene, her left hand carrying a handkerchief calmly wiped the sticky discharge from both her hand and his penis.

"Better not come as fast tonight Gerald, I've been waiting three months for you to come home," she said smiling.

So this was why she wanted to spend the night at an Inn, a night of debauchery. If that was what she wanted then he would happily oblige, for she was no kin of his and it had been a long time since he had lain with a woman. Things already were looking up John (Gerald) Prentice thought. He had intended to scupper once they reached the Inn, but now he would stay in the pretence of Gerald Harvey Watkins for a bit longer. He wondered what else was going to be thrust on him.

The Inn was in sight of the old Roman Fort at Porchester, which overlooked the muddy flats of the bay. When the tide was out the smell of the mud was swept over the peninsula where the fort was situated. Why Magdalene chose this Inn must surely be her eagerness to finish what she started in the carriage, with Gerald her son.

It was obvious that Magdalene had stayed at this Inn in the past, for the landlord was all bows and scraps to her. Rosanna and Peter were housed in lodgings above the stables and Gerald was given a room next door to Magdalene. Gerald and Magdalene had clearly occupied the same rooms the evening before HMS Penelope had sailed on her fatal voyage.