Hello again! I know I haven't updated this for years, but I was watching Hornblower again recently and thought there was more to give (so to speak) from our favourite gunner...enjoy...

"I thought you had perhaps changed your mind," Clara said as Hobbs climbed through her bedroom window and dropped silently down inside. She drew the curtains across the window but left it open to allow the air in. Turning back to face him, he saw a wicked smile on her face that should have worried him, but instead only served to excite him and send the blood rushing to his groin. "I thought you might not come."

"I almost didn't," he replied honestly as a clock somewhere in the deep recesses of the house chimed twelve. "For as much as I may want you, I fear that nothing but trouble can come from our continued unions."

After their encounter in the summerhouse, he had accompanied her back to the drawing room, bid good night to his hosts and spent an hour pacing around Portsmouth debating whether or not he should return as requested. He had watched as men staggered out of the taverns, drunk on rum and sex, as whores approached him seeking business and thought about how uncomplicated it would be to lie with them as opposed to the daughter of his commanding officer. And yet, as midnight had approached, he had found himself back at the house, throwing pebbles at her window, desperate in his need to see her.

"What sort of trouble might you be referring to?" she enquired innocently, plucking at the cord of the robe she wore around herself. "Do you expect my father to burst in at any moment, armed to the teeth, determined to kill whoever may be robbing his child of her virtue?"

Hobbs glanced at the door, the very fear that she spoke of rising up quickly within him. "It would not bode very well for me should he do so."

"Fear not, he and my uncle had consumed quite a lot of drink by the time they retired to bed and my aunt always takes a sleeping draught. No-one will ever know..." She stepped closer to him, the heat from her body touching him before her flesh did, and turned her face upwards to accept his kiss. He jerked as her lips touched his as, simultaneously, her hand found its way to his pressing hardness. Before he could take hold of her in response however, she stepped back again and untied the cord around her waist, letting the robe fall to the floor, leaving her completely naked before him.

"Oh Lord," Hobbs breathed before he could help himself, his eyes drinking her in. On previous occasions it had either been dark or desperation had won out over undressing and therefore this was the first time he had really looked at her. Small, yet firm, breasts gave way to a cinched waist and long legs that he had previously enjoyed wrapped around him. As he continued to stare, Clara stepped backwards towards the bed, her eyes never leaving his. Slowly, she drew back the sheets and slid beneath them before holding out her hand to entice him to her. Swallowing hard, he moved over to the side of the bed and stood looking down at her for a long moment before he began the laborious task of removing his uniform. Jacket, shirt, trousers, underpants...one by one he dropped each garment onto the floor beside the bed before joining her within.

She sank back into the pillows as he rolled gently on top of her, positioning himself between her opened thighs and kissing her waiting mouth. No resistance was offered, if anything she was the hungrier of the two, pulling him down to her, raking her fingers through his hair and unknotting the tie that kept it from his face. Deliberately, some might say cruelly, he pulled back and stared down at her from his vantage point above her, taking in the cloud of hair on the pillow, the dark, desire-filled eyes and the plump red mouth so recently kissed. "John?" she breathed questioningly with a hint of impatience.

"You said you wanted me to make love to you," he said.

"And I do..."

He lowered himself to brush his mouth lightly against her lips. "Then you will have to go at my pace."

"But..."

"Ssssh...I promise you that you will not be disappointed." Before she could say anything else, he lowered his mouth to her neck, kissing and suckling at the flesh, before then proceeding down her chest, over each breast and nipple, down her stomach, stopping merely to swirl his tongue around her belly button, before moving lower to the juncture of her thighs and a second cloud of fiery hair. He could hear her laboured breathing above him and a low moan escaped her throat as, with practiced ease, he parted her and sought the treasure hidden within.

Clara's body jerked in spasm as his tongue slowly grazed over her most delicate spot and then began a slow rhythm guaranteed to satisfy. It was not his first venture, face first, into a woman's nether regions, but something about this journey felt different from all of the others. He felt her fingers in his hair, her thighs tightening around his head and she grew slicker with every movement, which only served to stiffen his own resolve. Moving one hand under her bottom, he allowed the other to slide back up over her body and close over one full breast, kneading the hardened nipple as she rose and fell under his touch, one finger slipping inside her warmth. He could hear the sound of nails clawing the bed sheets above him and knew that she was trying her best to keep her voice low, but as she started to wriggle and jerk against him in satisfaction, a high pitched noise emanated from her throat that would have wakened only a sleeping dog.

"Oh...God..." she groaned, "John..."

He worked her for a few moments longer, his face damp from her excitement, and then crawled up her body, sliding easily inside her, stretched and wet as she was. She accepted him with a moan that he quietened with his mouth whilst moving within her, his cock throbbing on the brink of explosion.

"Oh Clara..." he breathed. "Darling Clara...so perfect...so perfect..."

"Look at me John..." she said, shifting her bottom further beneath him which only succeeded in deepening the angle. He suddenly realised his eyes were tightly closed and, opening them, saw her face, inches from his own, her eyes full of spent desire, a sheen of sweat on her skin and he automatically increased the strength of his strokes whilst maintaining a deliberately steady rhythm. Gone, in his mind, was the mindless rutting of their previous encounters. This was he, John Hobbs, making love to her, Clara Sawyer, and not caring about anyone or anything else. Reaching up, she cupped his face gently with her hand as he raised himself slightly above her and quickened his pace until he was beyond the brink, could control himself no longer, and suddenly spurted inside her with a growl of satisfaction before collapsing against her body, his words unintelligible against her skin.

For a long moment he lay atop her, until he heard his breathing slow, felt his heartbeat begin to return to normal and sensed himself slipping from within her. Rolling onto his back, he held her against his chest, a wonderful slick, sweaty mess of limbs that, despite the humid night, he had no wish to break from.

"I shall miss you when you leave on Tuesday," Clara said after what seemed like hours, her voice low and rich. "I shan't see you again for at least six months, perhaps longer."

"Undoubtedly longer."

"What on earth am I to do with myself?"

He smiled and stroked her hair, sleepy with the exertion of the evening. "I'm sure you will find ways to fill your time. Hasn't Mrs Berry quite enslaved you to her causes?"

"I suppose...but it won't be the same."

"We have spent but a few hours in each other's company over the last two days. I'm sure you had much to occupy you whilst I was on my last voyage and I'm sure you will find much to occupy you once more."

She lifted her head and looked at him, a frown marring her features. "Then you do not care?"

"Of course I care..."

"Clearly you do not or you would not speak so flippantly!" She sat up and drew the sheets up around her nakedness. "It is all right for you, having adventures on the high seas with my father. I'm the one who is left here for months and months on end, all on my own, bored out of my mind..."

"Clara..."

"Why can't I come?"

Hobbs paused and looked at her. "Come where?"

"To sea? Why can't I come with you to sea?" Before he could stop himself, he burst out laughing, which was clearly the wrong reaction given the look of fury that crossed Clara's face. "You mock me! How dare you mock me!"

"I do not mock you..."

"You do!"

"Clara..." he covered her hand with his own, trying to regain his composure. "What you are suggesting is impossible."

"Why?" she glowered. "Why is it impossible? Are there not children on board the Renown?"

"Yes..."

"Well then!"

"But they are working..."

"I could work!"

"Even were that to be so, the Renown is no place for a woman," Hobbs said, shuddering at the very thought of her roaming its bowels and being leered at by Randall and the others. "It is part of His Majesty's fleet and we do not travel to Santo Domingo to take in the sights. We are going because of an uprising. There will be action, fighting, bloodshed...not to mention the fact that having a woman on board would only succeed in distracting the men, some of whom are less gentlemanly than I."

"You sneak into my bedroom in the middle of the night to ravish me and you call yourself a gentleman?" Clara retorted.

He stared at her, "You invited me..."

"Yes, and you came without so much as a concern as to whether or not you should! Given your complete lack of concern as to my wellbeing over the coming months once you have left port, you clearly consider me as little more than your whore! I would therefore now like to invite you to leave!" Tossing back the sheets, she leapt out of the bed, grabbing a second robe from where it hung on the back of her door. He watched as she threw it over her shoulders and covered her nakedness. "Didn't you hear me? I said I wanted you to leave!"

"You surely don't mean..."

"Do you wish me to scream?" she asked, putting her hand on the door handle.

"Clara, how can you say that? I told you of my concern over our unions when I arrived!" Hobbs exclaimed. "I said to you that I feared..."

"Yes, as you said earlier, it would not bode well for you if my father were to find you here, especially when I tell him everything that you've done to me!" When he didn't move, she opened the door. "Well?"

"You little bitch," he said, before he could stop himself and saw the look of defiant anger replaced by one of hurt surprise. Well, she could look as hurt and surprised as she wanted! How dare she threaten him so! Following her lead, he too left the bed at speed, retrieving his clothes from the floor and hurriedly dressing. As he pulled his jacket on, he felt something in the pocket and remembered the trinket he had bought her in the market. "To think I intended to give you this as a token of my affection!" he said, tossing it onto the bed between them. She glanced at it and then met his gaze again, but his temper was too heightened to see any glimmer of remorse. "Only a fool buys jewels for a whore!" With that, he turned, thrust back the curtains and slipped out of the window and into the night.

XXXX

Sleep evaded him. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her face. Smiling, flushed with pleasure, then angry, defiant, hurt...and he hated himself more and more with each passing thought. For all that she had said, for all that she had done, or at least threatened to do, he knew that his own actions made him the villain of the piece. Clara Sawyer was no bitch and certainly no whore. She was a young woman, so very young, and he had taken her virtue and claimed her as his own time and time again with little regard for...he sighed heavily and sat up in the bed, the noise of other men breathing, snoring and farting around him doing little to aid his rest.

What had she been thinking, suggesting that she join him on the Renown? Did she fancy herself as a sailor in His Majesty's fleet? Did she seek to haul barrels...pack powder into guns...duel with the enemy...? Or would she prefer to stand with her father on the bridge in garments that would emphasise her waist and breasts and drive him mad with lust?

Lust...the very word caused him to pause and consider his feelings. Every time he looked at Clara, he wanted her. Was that so very wrong? Was it not the most natural thing in the world for a man to want a woman? Indeed it was, and had he not indulged that want so many times in so many ports over so many years and thought little of it? Yes, he had and yet this conquest, this encounter, this woman...she was the only one who had ever made him question his actions. And he had called her the worst name, blackened her character and, for that, he hated himself.

A noise at the door of the room caused him to start and, looking over, he saw a shadowy figure stumble inside, clearly trying to make as little noise as possible and only succeeding in making so much. A glance at the bed three along told him that the returning figure had to belong to Randall. No doubt he, like Hobbs himself, had been enjoying the attentions of a comely woman but comparing himself to the other man brought him no pleasure.

"Aye aye," Randall said softly as he stumbled towards his own berth. "Not able to sleep, sir?"

"Too hot," Hobbs replied shortly, lying back down and pushing the crumpled sheet to the bottom of the bed.

"Aye well..." the springs of the bed creaked as the other man sank within. "Nothing beats that on shore leave." Seconds later, a cacophony of sounds began to emanate from the Scotsman's throat and Hobbs screwed his eyes shut in an attempt to encourage sleep.

In the end, he succumbed, his dreams peppered with visions of the Renown, the likely battle ahead and Clara Sawyer.

XXXX

"Mr Hobbs! Mr Hobbs!"

Hobbs turned and straightened up from where he had been bending over barrels of gunpowder due to be loaded onto the Renown, in time to see Lt Hornblower striding towards him along the dock. Sighing inwardly, he braced himself for whatever the younger man might want to chastise him for now. In the year that they had been sailing together, a mutual dislike appeared to have materialised between them, the origin of which he couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Yes sir?" he said, trying to keep rancour out of his tone and, ultimately, failing.

Hornblower pursed his lips. "Captain Sawyer seeks your presence in his cabin."

"Thank you sir," Hobbs replied, every sense suddenly heightened. What could the Captain wish to speak with him about? Something to do with the ship? Or had Clara spoken with her father after he had left the previous evening and told him everything?

His hesitation evidently showed as Hornblower glowered at him. "At once, Mr Hobbs!"

"Aye aye sir," he replied, moving past his superior officer and climbing swiftly aboard, the ship listing slightly under his feet. A few short steps took him to the Captain's cabin and, taking a deep breath, he knocked smartly on the door.

"Come!" Pushing open the door, Hobbs stepped inside, finding his superior officer seated behind his desk.

"Ah, Mr Hobbs," Captain Sawyer greeted him warmly. "Thank you for attending me so promptly."

"It was no trouble, sir," he replied, buoyed by the captain's disposition. Surely if Clara had confessed what had happened between them he would have been staring down the barrel of the man's pistol by now? "How may I be of assistance to you?"

"Admiral Montgomery is giving a ball this evening," the captain replied, somewhat to his surprise. "Had we sailed as planned, we would have missed it but, given the inclement weather in the channel we are fortunate enough to still be in port. I say fortunate given that, had we been at sea, I do not believe Clara would have attended the ball."

"Sir?"

"She is, inherently, a shy girl and I do not believe..." the captain broke off and frowned. "You look concerned, Mr Hobbs. Is something amiss?"

"My apologies, sir," Hobbs said. "I must confess that shyness is not a quality I would have ever attributed to Clara."

"Hmm, indeed...well she is certainly not presenting herself in a favourable light to the young men of Portsmouth. I will arrange a suitable match for her if I must, but I would prefer her to choose a husband for herself and she will never do that if she does not go out into company." Captain Sawyer got to his feet. "This is where I require your assistance, Mr Hobbs. I would like you to accompany her to the ball this evening."

Hobbs stared at him. "Me, sir?"

"I have complete faith that you will accompany her to the ball, see she comes to no harm whilst there, and return her home again safely and I feel sure she will enjoy the evening more with you as chaperone as opposed to myself. I hope that you will oblige me by doing what I ask."

Though he had never felt such reticence towards a task before, Hobbs knew he would never refuse a request of his captain. "I will sir, and be proud to do so."

"Capital!" Captain Sawyer clapped him on the shoulder. "Be at the house at seven bells in full dress uniform. I know that Clara will be delighted. Thank you, Mr Hobbs."

"Sir." As he turned and made his way out of the cabin and back into the afternoon heat, Hobbs couldn't help but feel that, despite her father's feelings, delighted would no doubt be the last thing Clara would be.