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Two ships arrive in Williamsburg.

In two strides, Martinez had caught up with her and crooked a steely arm around her throat, his blade touching her skin while his other hand pinioned her upper arm painfully. She screamed piercingly and he almost dropped the knife.

"You aren't a boy, are you?" he exclaimed, his voice exultant.

"I've told her before, she makes a very unconvincing male," drawled a familiar voice from the foot of the stairs. Seconds later the imposing figure of Captain Prince filled the doorframe.

Kitty did not know whether to laugh or cry. Despite the mocking curl of his lip in a feline smile, it was clear from his eyes that he was furious with her. Her shoulders slumped and she stared at the floor. Martinez took the knife from her throat and let her flop listlessly forward.

"Captain!" he exclaimed, clapping Prince on the shoulder and kissing both cheeks. Prince did not return the gesture, but took Martinez's hand firmly in his and greeted him with apparent warmth.

"Please accept my apologies for the inconvenience this silly girl has put you to," he said to Martinez, who shrugged in an open, villains-together gesture of forgiveness.

"It was no trouble; just a little amusement to pass a dull day," grinned his Spanish counterpart. "Now I look at her properly, I see she is very pretty. I wish I'd worked it out sooner..."

Prince's smile became a little less genuine then faded altogether.

"Please stay and eat with me," invited Martinez. "Paco! Go up to Xavier's and get me a zarzuela sent over. I need the good sherry too." Paco loped off up the stairs. "I always think you should mix business with pleasure." At the word 'pleasure' a lingering look was directed at Kitty, who maintained her stiff, petrified stance.

"There is certainly business to be done," nodded the Captain. Clapping Kitty on the shoulder he ordered her to stand facing the wall until he was ready to deal with her. Kitty shuffled over and faced the cold tiles that lined the room, crossing her fingers that nothing too appalling awaited her in the line of punishment. A faint hope, she had to admit.

Agonising scenarios played a continuous shadow-theatre in her head while she stood vaguely listening to the men talk commerce. After half an hour or so of haggling and discussion of the easiest fleets to rob, a delicious smell of cooked fish wafted over and she knew that the food had arrived. She heard the uncorking of bottles and glugging of liquid, the clashing of cutlery. She realised in a rush that she was very, very hungry, but had been too wound up with adrenaline and terror to acknowledge it. She longed for a bowl of the seafood stew and her hopes picked themselves out of the trench where they had been languishing when Martinez said, "We have plenty - perhaps the girl could take a bowl with us?"

But the Captain kicked them back down with a terse, "I think not; she is to stand there and contemplate her fate until I am ready."

Martinez tutted sympathetically. "Is she your mistress?" he asked curiously.

"She is a stowaway who thinks she can outwit me and play me at my own game. I have been bedding her, but she thinks herself much too good for the likes of me. It is time she were taken down a peg or two."

Kitty did not like the sound of this; and being discussed in this way while she was physically present was making the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

"She is pretty. Good figure," said Martinez approvingly. "Even in those ragged britches, her arse looks shapely. I would love to see what her tits are like under that baggy shirt too."

"Well, then you shall," said the Captain expansively. "Kitty, take off your shirt."

"I..." gasped a stunned Kitty.

"Or should I say, take off my shirt," continued Prince implacably. "Do as you are told, my lady, unless you want me to remove it for you."

Kitty hesitated, then wriggled out of the garment, holding it over her breasts at her front.

"You may turn around so that Senor Martinez can have a good look at you."

Kitty stalled for time as long as she dared, then slowly half-circled to face the avid Span

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