Alexander Kent - THE INSHORE SQUADRON

Herrick smiled, the anxiety slipping from his face. 'Did you hand over the carriage in one piece? Mr Browne's friend will have words to utter if you've wrecked it.'

There was a shout from the marine sentry. 'Midshipman of the watch, sir!'

Midshipman Lyb entered the cabin and said, 'First lieutenant's respects, sir, and may he hoist all but the duty boats inboard?' He was careful to keep his eyes averted from Bolitho's nakedness.

Bolitho recalled his own time as captain. Two years ago, and yet he could remember well the internal dramas of his various ships. Like poor Lyb, for instance. Equal in seniority and just slightly older than Midshipman Aggett, but the latter had been promoted to replace the dead Lieutenant Courtenay. It was just a fragment, a mere speck when set against the great strategy of a fleet at war. And yet Lyb's downcast expression revealed so much.

Herrick said doubtfully, 'It's a mite early, Mr Lyb. I'd better come up and see what Mr Wolfe intends.' He picked up his hat and said, 'I'll leave you in this ruffian's hands, sir.'

The door closed and Allday said, 'I'm afraid Mr Lyb may have got that message wrong.'

Bolitho took a clean shirt from Ozzard and slipped it over his head.

'Why is that?'

'I, that is,' Allday looked momentarily off balance,- I wanted to speak with you alone.' He glared at Ozzard, who seemed to shrink in size before he left the cabin.

Bolitho exclaimed, 'You did wreck the carriage?'

'No, sir.' Allday fiddled with his gilt buttons. 'Fact is, after you'd ridden from the house with Mr Browne the lady came.' He nodded to Bolitho's disbelief. 'Aye, sir, the lady.'

Bolitho looked away. 'Tell me. What did she say?'

Allday replied, 'I was so bothered by you riding off without me I can't remember exactly, sir. She was most upset. About you, that you'd think her heartless when you had so much on your mind about your nephew. She fired so many questions at me when she found I'd been with you for. so long I could barely get the chests packed.'

'When she found out? You mean, you told her everything?'

'I expect so.' Allday looked at him with sudden determination. 'I'd better tell you without further delay, sir. I brought her with me. We met Mr Browne by accident an' he put her in The George.' He took a deep breath. 'She's waiting there.

Now.'

Bolitho sat down in a chair and looked at his hands. 'Does she know about the duel?'

Allday beamed. 'Oh yes, sir. We heard about that before we came through Wymer Parish. I think Mr Roche must have had a lot of enemies!'

Bolitho did not know what to say. She was waiting to see him, here in Portsmouth. When she had heard he was safe she could have gone about and returned to London without seeing him. If it had been only pity, or common- courtesy, she would have sent a brief message perhaps, nothing more.

He said, 'I will go ashore.'

`Bless you, sir, not like that!' Allday was grinning hugely. 'Better put some breeches on!'

Ozzard answered Bolitho's call a bit too quickly for one who had been out of earshot. But Bolitho was too confused, too aware of possible disappointment, and barely noticed.

Allday marched round the cabin issuing instructions. 'Best coat, now. Fetch the hat with the black binding, not the goldlaced one.'

Bolitho paused in his efforts to finish dressing. 'Why is that?'

Allday regarded him calmly. 'Ladies need to see the man, sir, not just the uniform.'

Bolitho shook his head. 'You never fail to amaze me, Allday.'

Allday examined him carefully. 'About right, sir. Now, if you will excuse me, I'll muster my bargemen.' He stepped aside as Herrick returned.

Herrick said, 'Lyb got it all wrong, as usual.' He stiffened as he saw Bolitho's changed appearance. 'Hell, sir, you look just fine. If only…' He broke off, his blue eyes clearing with understanding. 'Allday! He got me away from here! And I think I know why!'

Bolitho took the hat from Ozzard. As ordered by Allday, it was the plain one with black cockade and simple lace edging.

'I am to meet her now, Thomas.' He looked up, his eyes searching. 'I will probably make a fool of myself.'

Herrick said, 'I think not.' He followed him through the screen door. 'I had a feeling about this. And bear in mind I've not yet laid eyes on the lady. But I know you, and I almost understand Allday by now, so the rest was easy.' He gripped his hand firmly. 'Good luck, sir.'

They strode out on to the damp deck, Bolitho treading very carefully to avoid disturbing the dressing on his wound. He thought he saw Loveys watching him from a companion, probably cursing him for not heeding his warning.

At the entry port, where the side party was lined up to honour his departure, and below which the Benbow's barge rolled impatiently on an incoming tide, Herrick said quietly, 'I'm not much of a hand at praying. But I'll be doing the next best thing.'

They stood apart and Bolitho raised his hat formally to the quarterdeck. It was only when he reached down to ensure that his scabbard would nott tangle in his legs that he realized Allday had clipped the old sword to his belt.

Where luck was concerned, nobody was taking any chances.

The room was very small and situated right at the top of the old George Inn. As Bolitho paused outside the door to regain his breath after a hasty climb up three flights of stairs he guessed that Browne had had to use bribes as well as influence to obtain it with Portsmouth so crowded with sea officers and the military.

He tapped on the door, his mind suddenly empty of words or conversation.

It opened and he saw- her standing very still, one hand around the edge of the door, as if unsure whether to welcome him or shut it in his face.

'Come in.' She watched him pass, her gaze dropping to his leg as he limped towards a small window and looked across the neighbouring roof-tops. 'I have sent for some tea. You were very quick. In fact, I was not sure you'd come at all. That you'd wish to come.'

Bolitho studied her as she took his hat and cloak. 'It's so good to see you. I've thought a lot about you. I am sorry about my visit to your house. I wanted you to like me so much.' He tried to smile. 'Like using too much canvas in a gale, you can lose everything.'

She ushered him to a chair near a fire. 'Your Mr Allday told me a great deal. If one man can love another, then he must be such a person. All the way on that journey he kept talking. I suspect it was as much to calm his own fears as to help with mine.'

'Why did you come?' Bolitho reached out as if to touch her.

'I am sorry. That was badly put. Forgive my crudeness. I'd give so much to please you, even in a small way.'

She watched him gravely. 'You must not apologize. You have done nothing. I did not really understand. Perhaps I was too proud, too sure I could make my way without favours from others. Every smile, each hint I received was like a smirk, a bargain. And I was alone.' She tossed the hair from her face. The brief gesture was both defiant and helpless.

She said, 'Your nephew. Tell me about him.'

Bolitho looked at the flickering flames. 'His father was named a traitor when he ran from the Navy to America. There, he joined up with the privateers, and by some cruel fate I was captured by his ship during the campaign. His desertion, his acts against his own country, destroyed my father. When I heard that my brother Hugh had died in an accident in Boston I could feel no pity, no sense of loss. Then one day, Adam, my nephew, walked out of nowhere with nothing but a letter from his dead mother. He wanted to be part of his real family. Mine. He had never met his father, nor had Hugh known about his existence.'

Without realizing he had moved, Bolitho was at the small window again, staring at the windswept waterfront, the anchored ships beyond.

'But my brother had not died. He had been hiding and running for too long when quite by chance he was rescued from the sea and brought to me, of all people. He was hiding in a dead man's uniform and using his name. Where better to find refuge than in the one life he really knew?'

He felt her staring at him, her fingers clenched in her lap, as if she was afraid to speak and break the spell.

'But it was my ship he found. And his son was serving in her as a midshipman.'

'And your nephew knows nothing of this?'

'Nothing. His father died during a battle. Killed by throwing himself between Adam and a French pistol. I'll never forget it. Never.'

'I guessed part of it.' She stood up lightly and took his arm with her hand. 'Please sit down. You must be tired, worn out.'

Bolitho felt her nearness, her warmth against him.

He said, 'If I had not come to Portsmouth Adam would be dead. It is all part of one hate. My brother killed a man for

cheating at cards. Now that man's brother wishes to harm me, to destroy me by reviving the old memories and, as in this case, by hurting those I hold very dear.'

`Thank you for telling me. It could not have been easy.'

Bolitho smiled. 'Surprisingly, it was easier than I would have imagined. Maybe I needed to speak out, to share it.'

She looked at her hands, once more resting in her lap. As she did so, her long hair fell about her shoulders very slowly, as in a dream.

She said quietly, 'Will you tell him now?' 'Yes. It is his right. Although…

'You think you will lose his affection? Is that it?'

'It makes me seem selfish. But at the time it was dangerous. If Hugh had been taken he would have hanged. But only when I tell Adam will I know why I really contained the secret.'

There was a quiet tap at the door and a homely looking inn servant entered with a tray.

'Your tea, ma'am.' She shot Bolitho a quick glance and curtsied. 'Bless me, sir!' She peered at him closely. 'Captain Bolitho, isn't it?'

Bolitho stood up. 'Well, yes. What can I do for you?'

'You'll not remember, of course, sir.' But her eyes were pleading. 'My name is Mrs Huxley.'

Bolitho knew it was terribly important but could not think why. Then, like the drawing of a curtain, he saw a man's face. Not moving, but like one in a portrait.

Quietly he said, 'Of course, I remember. Your husband was a quartermaster in my ship, the old Hyperion.'

She clasped her work-reddened hands together and stared at him for several seconds.

'Aye, sir. Tom often spoke of you. You sent me money afterwards. That was so good of you, sir. Not being able to write, I didn't know how to thank you. Then I saw you just now. Just like that day when you brought the Hyperion back to Plymouth.'

Bolitho gripped her hands. 'He was a brave man. We lost a lot of fine sailors that day. Your husband is in good company.'

It was incredible. Just a word, a name, and there he was, plucked from memory to join them in this room.

'Are you all right here in Portsmouth?'

'Aye, sir.' She looked at the fire, her eyes misty. 'I couldn't face Plymouth no more. Watching the sea, waiting for Tom, an' all the while knowing he was dead.'

She made a sudden effort and added, I just wanted to speak, sir. I've never forgotten what Tom said of you. It makes him seem nearer somehow.'

Bolitho stared at the door as it shut behind her.

'Poor woman.' He turned bitterly towards the fire. 'Like all those others. Watching the horizon for the ship which never comes. Will never come.'

He broke off as he saw her face in the firelight, the tears running down her cheeks.

But she smiled at him and said softly, 'As I sat here waiting for you I wondered what you were like, really like. Allday told me a lot, but I think that sailor's widow said far more.'

Bolitho crossed to the chair and looked down at her.

'I want you so much. If I speak my inner thoughts I could drive you away. If I remain silent you may leave without a glance.' He took her hands in his, expecting her to draw away,

tensing his body as if to control his words. 'I am not speaking like this because you are in need, but because I need you, Belinda. If you cannot love me, I will find enough love for us both.' He dropped on one knee. 'Please…'

But she looked at him with alarm. 'Your wound! What are you doing?'

He released one hand and touched her face, feeling the tears on his fingers.

'My injury must wait. Right now I feel more vulnerable and defenceless than on any gundeck.'

He watched her eyes lift and settle on his. Saw the guard dropping away, as if she were stripping herself before him. She said in a low voice, 'I can love you.' She rested her head

on his shoulder, hiding her face. 'There will be no rivals, no cruel memories.'

She took his hand and opened it in hers. 'I am no wanton, and I am disturbed by the way I feel.' Then she pressed his hand around her breast, holding it there while she slowly raised her eyes to his.

'Can you feel it? There is my answer.'

Down in one of the coffee rooms Browne sat with a glass of portby his elbow, a pack of despatches on the bench beside him.

It was growing dark, and some of the servants were moving about, lighting candles and preparing for the inn's visitors from the London coach or the usual throng of officers from the dockyard.

Browne glanced at the tall, dignified clock and smiled to himself.

He had been here for hours. But as far as he was concerned, the despatches, the Benbow, even the war could wait a while longer before he disturbed the couple in the little room at the top of the inn.

15. Lay the Ghost

His Britannic Majesty's ship Benbow tilted steeply on the swell, her hull and gangways soaked with spray. The Solent was covered with cruising white horses as the wind hissed through the rigging and furled sails.

Bolitho signed one more letter and waited for his clerk to put it with all the others. The ship was groaning and muttering all around him, as if she could sense the meaning of her change of anchorage. From harbour to Spithead.

Yovell said, 'I'll have this lot sent across in the duty boat, zur.' He watched Bolitho's profile curiously, as if startled by his change of demeanour.

Yovell was not so simple that he did not understand some of it. At first he had imagined Bolitho had been unable to conceal his relief over the duel's outcome. But for Roche's cowardice he might well be dead and the repercussions from the Admiralty would have affected everyone, even a lowly clerk.

Bolitho said, 'Good. If being at sea is a hardship, it also favours those who hate wording despatches, especially as they may never be read.'

There was a tap at the door and Herrick entered, his uniform glittering with spray.

'I am ready to up-anchor, sir. Just as soon as you are ready.'

Bolitho nodded to Yovell who swept the despatches into a canvas bag and hurried from the cabin.

'Very well, Thomas. We shall rejoin the squadron and resume our original duties.' He tapped the drawer of his table. 'I received a full set of instructions from Admiral Beauchamp. I think he is so eager to get me to sea he will not spare the time to see me.' He smiled wryly. 'But I cannot complain. He has been more than patient.'

Herrick exclaimed, `Patient, sir? After all you did? Bless me, I should damn well think so!'

Bolitho called for Ozzard and said, 'I am glad of your loyalty, Thomas. However, but for our successes and the information I put in my report about the Danish galleys, I fear even Beauchamp's importance would not have protected me.'