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midshipmen was not in itself surprising. Both groups were of an age to be bravadoes. But the locals had been armed, which obliged Pasco and his fellows to reach for their ceremonial dirks. Twenty mids against a greater number of blades had gone the British way, because they were all fighters by nature. The problem was that a local youth had been stabbed, this compounded by a musket-ball wound to one of the mids when the Royal Guardsmen intervened. They could hardly be blamed for firing, seeing as how the drunken mids had, with their knives still in their hands, charged them with a whooping war cry.
    ‘I fear I am the culprit who wielded the knife too well, my lady, and I fear also that the fellow I stuck was badly hurt.’
    Emma looked up at Pasco, at the fat lip and a yellowing eye. ‘We enquired of the fellow this morning, Mr Pasco, and he is well on the mend.’
    ‘Thank Christ,’ Pasco exclaimed, then added quickly, ‘saving your presence, ladies.’
    ‘Is that what you wanted?’ asked Emma. ‘To enquire after the fellow’s well-being?’
    ‘Well …’ Pasco hesitated.
    ‘You will find, Mr Pasco, that if you want something, it is best to come right out with it.’
    ‘I fear I have been brought up before Captain Hardy, who intends to lay the matter before Lord Nelson.’
    Emma laughed again, which turned quite a few heads. ‘I suspect, Cornelia, that I am about to be asked to intervene.’
    Cornelia Knight pursed her lips. It was well known to her and every other British national in Palermo that Nelson had admonished Emma many times not to intercede in matters of discipline, just asshe knew that Emma was forever doing just that. Everyone from a common seaman to a fellow like Pasco felt he could approach her to use her good offices, and it was also well known that Lord Nelson was like melted butter when Lady Hamilton asked for clemency.
    ‘Lord Nelson has stopped leave for six months for all us mids, my lady,’ added Pasco hopefully.
    ‘How barbaric, young man. What will social life ashore be without your presence?’ Emma was being sarcastic, and Pasco knew it. Midshipmen ashore in numbers were a menace: loud, brash and no respecters of local custom. But seeing the effect of her words she added, ‘Leave it with me, Mr Pasco, and I will see what I can do.’
     
    ‘I have asked you time and again, Emma, not to interfere in these matters. Hardy resents it.’
    The truth that he did too was left unsaid.
    ‘Oh, the Ghost, must I ask him? He will glower at me with those great fish-like eyes of his.’
    ‘No,’ Nelson said, knowing that Hardy would, for his sake, deny her nothing. If the ship’s company ever found out that Hardy was susceptible to Emma’s wiles there would be no discipline at all.
    ‘So you will reject me?’
    ‘I fear I must.’
    Emma went easily into dramatic mode and she did so now, her voice changed to that of a supplicant waif. It was wonderful the way she could use her scarf and straw bonnet to create an effect of downtrodden poverty. ‘Oh, sir, do with me what you will but do not ‘arm them poor lads who don’t know no better than to slash at a local who insults their womenfolk.’
    ‘Emma!’ said Nelson emphatically.
    ‘You can tie me to a gratin’ if you wish,’ Emma continued. ‘I care not if you rips the garments off my back, and goes to it with a whip.’ She was behind him now, her hands over his shoulders. ‘You has got a whip, your honour, I suspect, and I’m sure it be a terror to any young lass exposed to its ways.’
    As her hands slipped down inside his waistcoat and her head rested against his, Nelson could smell her body. Much as he hated the idea that came into his head then, it was unavoidable. Cleopatra had struck again. Pasco would be forgiven, there was little doubt of that, and so, probably, would the other riotous mids. But would he ever forgive himself for being so weak where she was concerned?
    Still, surrender was so pleasant.
     
    His