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She was with these movements—akin to them, she felt it at times intensely—and yet something eluded her. Anything that drew attention to her must be avoided. And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas. Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way. Nor, indeed, did she want to refuse. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. ‘You see now how dangerous it is to play this lone hand. Before midnight, your nephew shall be safe beneath the hatches of the Zeeslang. He kissed her neck, moving down to her breasts, trying to consume her with passion. Walpole, and then to Newgate.
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