Noble Intentions

27. From Bliss to Blast

Gillian and I lay in a conjoined embrace, basking in the euphoria and gently shifting our hips long after we had calmed. No words were needed – our souls conveyed all.

Then, the pealing of seven bells broke the spell. "Oh, my! Already. We must clean, dress and breakfast. I need to address the ship's company in half an hour."

Gillian chuckled. "I have prepared for the first two parts; the remainder is yours."

"Two parts?"

"First, the cleaning, and second, I have laid out fresh breeches, shirt and cumberbund for you."

"Oh, my! You will spoil me."

"Nay, not spoil. I wish to make it easier for you to attend the needs of your two mistresses."

I chuckled. "And curry my favour." I tightened our embrace. "But there is no need for suasion – you have irrevocably won me. Persephone has not a chance in Hades. Come, we must make ready."

A short while later, as she squatted over the basin on a footstool and washed her nethers, Gillian said, "The governess made me aware of Mother's confusion about my pudenda. Not knowing which I was, my parents chose a name that could be seen as either boy or girl, and they had me baptised as Julian."

"Julian? Oh, my my! How confused I am. I had understood you to say your name is Gillian."

"Ooh! Gillian! Gillian. Gillian – I like that. A lot. Rolls off my tongue much easier. Gillian. Gillian. Far prefer it to Julian."

"Then, may I call you Gillian?"

"Ooh, yes, please." She looked up at me, nodding and smiling. "Yes, it seems so much more me. My sisters and brothers had taken to calling me Jewel – their little Jewel – I was the youngest. The governess called me Lady Julienne, in the French fashion. But I feel much more like Gillian."

She stood from her beeday, dabbed her nethers with a towel and inserted a mouse before continuing to dry. "Your turn, Jarvis. May I wash you?"

I chuckled. "That would arouse me again. Better I do it to not delay breakfast. And we must speak quietly; they might already be at the table, and the curtain does not block sound."

She pouted and whispered, "I still need to explore you."

"We can do that after I have addressed all hands." I squatted, and while I washed, I continued, "Then, we will have little to do but await the storm's arrival and endure its blast until it passes."

"When will it arrive?"

"Its beginnings already have. But I will know better after examining the log-book."

"Log book?"

"The written record of observations and events. Among of the duties of the watch officer is to maintain it."

"Oh, like the barometer record."

"Exactly!" I stood and allowed Gillian to dry me. How could I not with her presenting the towel to my wetness with both hands, her eyes pleading? I forced my mind to matters of the ship. "Evans will have recorded the bearing of the storm's centre each half-hour, so, at eight bells, we will have three to show its movement."

"Aha! Plot it like a DR."

"For direction, yes. But we have no means to measure its advance."

"The band of dark clouds. Can you see the entire storm? Or does it fill the horizon?"

"The entire storm, though, its closest portion is still dipped well below the horizon. What is visible spanned only four points when I was on the gallant top."