Charles' words, though soft to my ears, rang harsh in my heart. Zeelandia and her crew come first. I come after them all. Of reason, though. I am but an amusement to him. A new toy, an entertainment recently found.

My soul cringed at this thought.

Then his tenderness as he dried my breasts as if worshipping, prompted me to say, "But the crew need not know."

"How could they not know, Camille?"

"And how had you not, Charles? All our time close? The reading, the dining, the intercourse, the embraces?"

He bobbed his head, remaining quiet as he knelt to dry between my legs. I stepped my feet wide apart to assist, and I watched him tremble.

He looked up into my eyes, "It would be..." He paused and returned his eyes down to where they had been, and as he gently dabbed the towel on the hair of my nether lips, he said, "We shall find a way, Camille."

I trembled with joyous relief. "I can continue dressing as a boy."

"I had thought to seek an escort and guardian here for you that you may remain aboard Zeelandia as a passenger. But your willingness to continue hiding makes it far easier and far more exciting." Then he winced as his eyes rose to my breasts.

Seeing this, I said, "The marks there are from my occasional haste and from my need to remain bound twelve or more hours each day. Now with no need to hide them from you, I can take the time to more comfortably wrap for the few occasions I must be on deck. Washing laundry, fetching food–"

"I can bid Steward to arrange a lad from the cookery to bring food, and a–"

"Might that not rouse questions?"

"True, that would."

"Then I shall continue as before, that none know."

"I cannot allow you to continue as my servant."

My heart sunk again. "Then, what shall we do?"

"You may continue as my wife – if you wish."

"Oh, God! Yes, I do wish." With a hand on each side of his face, I guided him to his feet, and our mouths met.

The tingling grew as our kiss deepened, and when we finally parted lips, I tilted my head toward the bed. "Might we lie as one there?"

Charles nodded, swept me up into his arms and carried me across the room. We lay for a long while in a silent embrace, kissing and writhing together, and I wondered how we might proceed from here. He remained as a roused stallion, but pressed onto my belly, not in it.

Then he said, "I am told it will hurt the first time as I broach your maidenhead."

"I have seen this written but not ever understood its meaning until now. Though with the flannel I stuff in there to staunch my visitations, I have surely long since broached it."

He nodded. "Might I check if it remains that I know to be gentle?"

I winced. My ugly place. He has seen nought thus far but the hair. Then with a sigh, I said, "Yes, you may."

We unwrapped from each other, and as I rolled to my back and spread my legs, he sat between them and gazed for a long while before he said, "I have not before seen one, but for engravings in books." He shuddered. "None had shown this exquisite beauty."

"Beauty? It delights me you find beauty there. Mother had called it the ugly place."

"Your mother seems to have been misguided in many things."

"I increasingly realise this."

"Might I touch it?"

"You may, else you will not learn whether or not I am broached."

I winced as he began moving the various bits this way and that. Then I saw the sublime expression again on his face, and I shuddered at both that and the exquisite sensations. After probing with a finger, then two and three, he said, "It seems gone, and I believe you will feel no pain."

"And thus far, I have sensed nothing but delight. I would love you to join with me."

He trembled, his pizzle twitching again. Then he shuffled his butt toward me and tried with no avail to bend the stiffness sufficiently down. "This angle will not allow my entry."

I conjured up images, then said, "Might you lie and I kneel astride you?"

"Yes, that would offer the angle." He chuckled and added, "Contrary to navigation, comprehending the theory of this is the easy part. Making effective use of it is by far the difficult."

"Then we must frequently practise to find its ways."

We shuffled around on the bed, then we conjoined to gently move as one. I wallowed for a while in the pleasure of so many new sensations, then I sighed a deep moan and said, "And the practice is so very enjoyable. So very."

"Indeed!" He trembled and stiffened, then he stilled the slow shifting of his hips. "But I must allow you to take your pleasure before I am spent. How might I do that?"

I lowered a hand to my nub and pressed two fingers there. "I do it in this manner, and you may if you will."

"Or you might, that I see how."

I did, and an increasingly intense while later, as I began quaking, I watched him tremble. Then I felt him convulse deep within me, and I rejoiced in his low howling moan with each pulsation.

I collapsed onto his chest, and we lay quiet for a long while, connected and enjoying our closeness and the comforting reassurances of each other's caresses. His gradually slowed, then stopped, and I heard his light snoring. I then understood his meaning of spent.

As I lay draped atop him like a blanket, enjoying our closeness and my memories of the pleasures we had shared, realisation dawned. I am now with child. How will I hide my belly as it grows?

Best I not mention this to Charles, lest he leaves me here. Besides, we may well be back in England before it shows too much.