Chapter 12

Caroline stirred sleepily in the luxurious sheets of her London home. Pushing her hips backward, she felt something between the two cheeks of her shapely rear end.

"Mmmmm," she purred, grinding herself against it. Looking back over her shoulder, she realized that she would have to take care of herself this morning; he was sleeping like a log.

That was fine, too, she thought to herself. She tugged on her nightgown until it was bunched above her waist. The man behind her was already naked and, she discovered upon reaching through her thighs, already aroused. Wrapping her slender fingers around his organ, she bent it forward to allow her to slide it between her legs.

"Oh, darling," she whispered. She loved the way it felt just plowing back and forth along her furrow. With one finger vibrating against her clit, she used the fingers of her other hand to align the cock with her opening.

"Fuck me, darling," she whispered, using language that she had no intention of ever letting her husband hear. "Fuck me."

She felt her internal muscles massaging the prick that filled her core, matching the rhythm of the finger that pulsed, slowly at first and then with increasing speed, against her stiffened clit.

"Oh, oh, oh," she squeaked, her voice a barely audible soprano as she felt her climax break over her like the waves of the sea. She lay there, her body trembling, until she felt it subside.

"Thank you, lover," she whispered with a giggle to her still sleeping bedmate.

A knock at the door interrupted her. She quickly disentangled herself and put on a dressing gown.

"Yes?" she said, opening the door a crack.

"Captain Torrington to see you, ma'am, and the crew of the Classic."

"The entire crew?" Caroline asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is Mrs. Cooper about?"

"Not yet, ma'am," the girl said.

"Wake her up, then. Tell her of our visitors. And please tell them I will be down as soon as possible."

"Yes'm."

Caroline dressed hurriedly and with a last glance at the sleeping figure on the bed she descended the stairs to find out what such a large party meant.

She opened the door to find a solid mass of sailors. There were hundreds of them, all dressed in dark pants and shirts — dark uniforms for the officers — and all of them with particularly grim expressions on their faces.

"Captain Torrington, I give you joy of the peace. Won't you come inside? And you, Matthew? Lucy will be down any moment."

"Madam," Torrington answered, removing his hat and swallowing hard, "the men have asked me to allow Mr. Cooper to speak on their behalf."

Caroline turned to Matthew, puzzled by the absence of his usual good cheer.

"Lady Stan'ope," Matthew said with a deep, formal bow. "On behalf of the Classic, I am extremely sorry to have to tell you of the death of Captain Stan'ope."

"The death?" Caroline asked. She took a step backward, her hand on her breast.

"Perhaps we should go inside, Mr. Cooper," Captain Torrington murmured, "and talk to Lady Stanhope in private."

"Aye-aye, sir."

"Oh, no, no," Caroline insisted resolutely. "I will not separate you from these men."

"Very well, madam," Torrington said in a faltering voice.

"The captain asked that I give you this, madam," Matthew said.

He handed over a packet.

"It is a tradition, madam," Torrington explained, "to have a letter for one's wife in case one, er..."

"Just so, sir," Caroline said.

She pulled the letter from the packet and tore open the envelope.

"Perhaps you would like to read it in private," Torrington said.

"Heavens, no. I'm sure all the men would like to hear my husband's letter."

Caroline gave the ranks of somber seaman a brave smile before returning her attention to the letter.

"'My dearest: If you are reading this letter, I will not be returning. I hope that I have died an honourable death and that you will be as proud of me as you were of my dear brother Geoffrey.'

"I do seem to be bad luck for the Stanhopes, don't I, Captain?" she said in an aside to a horrified Torrington. "'No matter the manner of my death, however, you must know that I died with a heart filled with love for you and with your name on my lips.' Still, it didn't stop him from cutting short our bridal tour, did it? I'm surprised not to find that nonsense about him not loving me so much loved he not honour more."

She cast a covert glance at Captain Torrington and his widened eyes before continuing.

"Ah, here's the part. 'To the extent that my gallant crew survives me, I would ask you use such fortune as I possess to make them comfortable. I have never served with a finer group of men and would be proud to call the lowest lubber among them my friend."

She heard the door open behind her. The emotions that the crew were holding in check changed in an instant. Caroline smiled as she heard the collective gasp.

"What's going on?" a voice from behind her asked.

Caroline turned, taking in the ridiculously luxurious dressing gown that her husband was wearing.

"I'm reading your letter, darling. The one where you have me distribute your fortune among your men."

"What letter?" Lord William Stanhope asked. He stepped forward and snatched it from her hand. "But I'm not dead."

"Captain Torrington believes you dead," Caroline said with a nod at the captain of the Classic, who had turned quite pale. "Matthew Cooper believes you dead. And I'm quite certain that the lowest lubber among the crew is rather disappointed that you're not."

She rounded on her husband in mock fury.

"You told me that you had left word for them!"

"I did!" William protested. "With every ship we met on the way home; at Gibraltar; and at the Admiralty."

"We spoke no ships in the Med after our search for you, sir," Matthew said. "We didn't stop at the Gib nor at the Admiralty. Is it really you, sir?"

"Of course it's me, Matthew."

"But how?" Torrington asked.

"Yes, do tell them of the hardships you encountered, darling."

Caroline's teasing earned her a scowl that made her laugh aloud.

"Matthew!"

The door opened again and Lucy Cooper leapt onto her still stunned husband. Matthew stood stock still, flushing a deep red.

"Lucy," he murmured. "The crew."

"Shall I embrace one of them instead?" Lucy asked saucily. "You seem quite uninterested."

"You must give him time, Lucy," Caroline said. "He has believed my husband dead for the past three weeks."

"Dead?" Lucy asked. "But he has been here for a week."

"A week?" Torrington asked. "But how..."

"Come in, Captain Torrington," William said. "You too, Matthew. And you as well, Mister Jennings. Perhaps you can transmit my explanation to the men when we are done."

All three of them, along with Caroline, William, and Lucy, were sitting in the parlor minutes later drinking tea.

"Tell us now, sir," Lieutenant Jennings urged. "We looked everywhere for you."

"Within reason," Torrington said.

"He was nowhere reasonable at all," Caroline interjected. "He was washed ashore on an island populated nearly entirely with young Greek women."

"It was a festival," William reminded his wife for what seemed the twentieth time.

"Naked young Greek women," Caroline added.

"But how were you washed that far at all, sir?" Matthew asked.

"The first explosion, Matthew, blew that gig off the foredeck. The second explosion actually blew me off as well, directly into the gig. Knocked me out, in fact. Which is where I was, lying in the bottom of the gig, when the third explosion took place. But I imagine that it was the sides of that gig that saved me from the shock waves of the explosion. And certainly from the flaming debris. So I take it the Classic escaped unscathed?"

"A few minor fires, sir," Torrington said. "None of the ships in the harbor suffered any significant damage."

"Excellent. To continue, however, I awoke in the midst of that storm as it blew me further and further to the southeast. As my darling notes, I came ashore on a Greek island. An island with a sort of naked bacchanalia. I was rescued two days later —"

"Two days later," Caroline said with mock disgust and a shake of her head.

"Two days later by the Hart," William continued with a blush. "We had an exceptional passage across the Med. By the time I reached Gibraltar, Wellington had beaten Boney at the Battle of Waterloo. So I brought my intended ship straight home. Truly I am sorry for your troubles, gentlemen. I did try to leave word as often as I could."