Affirmative

Arthur Jermyn adjusted his breeches and continued. "I had booked a double engagement with Miss Valierre this very afternoon, on behalf of myself and one of my best customers. Unfortunately my customer cannot attend. Captain, I would be pleased and flattered if you would join me today as my guest," he said. "It would no doubt be a pleasant surprise to Miss Valierre, who has not seen you in some time. I would not say that she sings your praises in so many words, but when I have visited her in your wake, Captain, I have found her more joyful, and her own pink flower warmer and more readily satisfied."

Emily's ears felt hot. Fortunately her hair was pulled back loosely to half cover them, so Jermyn might not notice their colouring up. Perhaps Jermyn's invitation would allow Emily to catch Valierre by surprise to enquire for the package Valierre had taken from Mr. Roth -- and learn what other business the newly elevated madam wanted to talk with her on. Though she was not sure she wanted Jermyn to know she had business as well as pleasure in mind for Miss Valierre.

She sipped at Jermyn's rose petal tea and tried to read the ship chandler's face. It was a bit pink, but that accorded with his animated discussion of Miss Valierre and the palpable evidence growing in his breeches. With the windows of Jermyn's little eyrie closed as they talked, it was a little stuffy in the small office. The scent of men's warm bodies was a daily commonplace to Captain Flint, but breathing in Jermyn and Mr. Murdock while Jermyn praised Emily's Sapphic amatorial powers over Miss Valierre's female parts was growing distracting.

Emily took a deep breath, trying to ignore the moisture in the saddle of her breeches. Her port call outfit was rather hot, the iron-silk undertunic and the leather jerkin adding unwelcome warmth along with their protection. The soft leather bag of pleasure tools pressed its presence on her as she shifted in her chair. She took another sip of Jermyn's tea. Emily tapped Mr. Murdock's boot once with her heel. Her pistoleer and trusted crewman tapped back the same way.

Holding her face impassive, Emily said, "I would be pleased to accept your invitation, Mr. Jermyn. Miss Valierre must be very busy now that she is the Pink Flower's captain." She smiled. "It is a special treat to visit her the first day in port."

"Excellent, Captain, I hoped you would join me!" Jermyn crowed. "You must allow me to stand you to luncheon. I'll have a table prepared in the map room."

"Very good," Emily said, "I need to confer with Mr. Murdock. Do you have a side room?"

"You may use my office," Jermyn said. "I will await you in the map room overlooking the harbor."

Jermyn climbed down the rope ladder from his office loft to the warehouse floor. Emily watched. Perhaps Jermyn was showing off for Emily, but the ship chandler seemed as agile as one of her crew.

Emily closed the door.

"Best not drink more of the tea, Cap'n ma'am," Mr. Murdock said.

"Right, Mr. Murdock," she said. "Mildly dosed, I reckon." She looked about. The windows of the office didn't offer views for onlookers. She nodded. "Private enough. I need to clear my head before luncheon. Understand?"

"Yes Cap'n," he said.

"And I can leave something for Mr. Jermyn as well." She pointed to a low cubbyhole next to Jermyn's desk holding a white glazed china pot with close-fitting lid. "Long night hours at his desk. Fetch that if you would?"

Murdock fetched Jermyn's chamberpot. It was empty and spotlessly white and clean inside.

Captain Flint struggled down her trousers and sat on the pot. Murdock looked away, but Emily could see his posture shift as her first tinkles hit the pot. She breathed easily, glad to have someone so trustworthy on her crew. She supposed she might feel a twinge of guilt for teasing Mr. Murdock, but she rather felt better to see how he was handling the distraction with equanimity.

Emily put the pot away and sat on the edge of Jermyn's chair with her trousers still undone. Her centre felt melty and swollen from Jermyn's tea and his loose talk about Miss Valierre. As she had told Murdock, it was time to clear her head before luncheon, lest Jermyn tempt her into more loose talk.

"Mr Murdock, I need your fingers here. Two together."

"Aye aye, Cap'n," he replied.

Murdock knelt on Jermyn's office carpet and tended to his captain as she had ordered. Leaving his good hand unburdened, he poised the first two fingers of his off hand together. Emily spread her front crease, opening the way for him. He put his fingers at her entrance and looked up. At her nod, he slid his fingers in. Emily sighed and started tickling the pearl in her oyster. Murdock curled his fingers in a shallow hook and moved his hand as she had instructed the last time, digging gently into the wet, soft flesh of her inner sheath and rubbing up against her pelvis from inside. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. Her sheath tightened around his fingers. She strummed faster, paddling her fingertips over the little pink pearl. Murdock kept up his gentle thrust-and-dig, thrust-and-dig until Captain Flint pressed her knees hard together, pinning his hand. Her body stiffened and quivered and her face flushed, adding pink to the golden sea-given tan. For a long count of three she held him, then jerked her knees apart and sucked in breath with a loud hiss. Knowing his part, Murdock slowly worked his fingers out and stood. He found a large handkerchief in his inner pocket and blotted at Emily's moisture. Captain Flint breathed fast and deep, feeling waves of warmth wash through her body in the wakestream of climax. She took a handkerchief from her own pocket and blotted her face, her fingers, and her cleft before stowing it where it wouldn't escape easily. She closed her trousers and tugged down her going-to-town clothes.

Emily could tell from the set of Murdock's shoulders that he also must be holding a primed cannon between his legs.

"Do you want to toss off, Murdock?"

"Better not," he said. "I'm sharper if I don't."

"Very good," Emily said. "Let's to luncheon, then. I don't suspect Jermyn of ill intent, but keep an eye out. And whoever has gotten themselves into my business may choose to shove an oar in, as at our first stop."

"Cap'n," he acknowledged.

Mr. Murdock preceded Emily down the ladder to Arthur Jermyn's ship chandlery warehouse.