become the amateur captain. I think I have the right one for you.' He sounded as if he were smiling in the darkness. 'My nephew, to be exact. At present serving as lieutenant in the old Cano-pus. The ship is undergoing extensive repairs at the Nore.'
'I would have to see him.'
'Naturally. I will arrange it. He is not one of those pompous little upstarts… he is intelligent, better educated than many who wear the King's coat.'
'I cannot promise anything.' It was strange to think of Sillitoe having a nephew, or any relations for that matter. Catherine had told him that Sillitoe had known her dead husband, Viscount Somervell. In what role, he wondered. Gambler, duel list or cheat? One usually led to the others. But not Sillitoe. He was too clever, too secretive.
He was looking out at the darkened house. 'My regards to Lady Catherine. A pity she is not at home.' He rapped the carriage roof. 'Drive on! '
Bolitho touched his eye. He always trusted Catherine's instincts about people. Wait and see, she had said. Where Sillitoe was concerned it was sound advice.
The housekeeper opened the door and said, 'I've a table laid for you, Sir Richard.'
'Thank you, no, I've no appetite. I shall go to our room.'
Our room. He closed the door behind him and looked around at their other haven. Her perfume was here; the gown she wore so often when she came to bed because he liked it so much, as if she might enter at any moment.
He hurried to the window as a carriage slowed down at the street corner. But it carried on past the house. They had been separated only because she had feared he could be blamed for snubbing the reception. Hamett- Parker would know he had left early; he would also be told that he and Sillitoe had been together. He tossed his heavy dress coat on to a chair, and smiled when he thought how indignant Ozzard would be about it.
He lay staring at the dancing shadows cast by a solitary candle and thought of her kneeling over him, or lying with her dark hair spread out in disorder across the pillows while she waited for him, unashamed, even proud of the body which he would explore until they could delay no longer.
He was soon asleep, and even then she was with him.
5. No Secrets
By mid-August 1809 the general attitude of England 's population was one of apathy and disinterest, except for those who had loved ones at sea or in the army abroad. With Welles-ley's victories in the Peninsular War and his return home to receive the title of Duke of Wellington from the King, the real enemy, France, seemed suddenly remote. Only in the City of London, in the counting houses and the world of insurance, was the true damage to trade and shipping really understood.
Bolitho had been twice to the Admiralty where he had been welcomed by four of their lordships, two of whom were senior officers and the others civilians. He had come away bemused by the casual fashion in which the Admiralty Board appeared to be run, with hundreds of instructions and orders being despatched every week to squadrons and solitary vessels, many of which were already obsolete by the time they were delivered.
Reunited with Catherine, he had been troubled by her reluctance to discuss her visit to Zenoria. He had gathered that the girl was still overwhelmed by the Keen family, suffocated by kindness; and when they received an invitation to the christening in Hampshire he had sensed that Catherine's mood went even deeper.
He knew she was disturbed by the lack of confirmation of his next appointment: the news of Collingwood's worsening health made the Mediterranean a possibility for the first time, and yet the Admiralty, and some said the King himself, whose mental state was rumoured to be deteriorating, continued to refuse Collingwood's plea for a recall to England.
He discussed the christening with Catherine, and felt even more that something was wrong.
She had come to nestle at his feet, her hair hiding her face as she had said, 'Val is so excited about it. He wants to invite all his friends, all those who are in the country at the time.' He heard the hesitation as she had added, 'Including Adam.'
'That is unlikely, Kate. Anemone is very short of hands, I gather. He will likely search further afield for replacements. A frigate captain is at his best when at sea with no admiral to trouble him! '
She had said quietly, 'Then I thank God for it.' She had looked up at him. 'I know you love him like a son, and I feel like a traitor when I tell you these things. But tell you I must. We swore there would be no secrets from the very beginning.'
Bolitho had listened without interruption: what she had seen in Adam's face at the wedding in Zennor; how she had heard of his visits to the house and Falmouth, and of an outburst in some coaching inn when Adam had called out a complete stranger for insulting the Bolitho family, but had satisfied his anger by shooting out the flame of a candle in a room full of witnesses. Zenoria had told her that Adam had even visited her recently, had ridden all the way from Portsmouth where Anemone was taking on stores.
Bolitho had stroked her hair to calm her but his mind had been in turmoil. What was the matter with him that he had not noticed something on the long haul back from the Caribbean? Did he see only what he wanted to see? His nephew had always been a restless one, from the very first day he had joined his ship as a skinny midshipman. He had never thought of him as being much like his brother Hugh. And yet… Hugh had always had a quick temper and could not hold down a grudge without showing it. Captain James, their father, had referred to it as bad blood, but surely there was more to it than that.
Catherine had exclaimed, 'Zenoria needs to have a house of her own, somewhere she can be herself. She is young, dear
Richard, but her experiences have given her an eagerness for life that Keen's family do not understand.'
The day of the christening arrived, and as promised they had driven down to the great house, where many friends both local and from London came to pay their respects to the child named Perran Augustus, the latter after Keen's father. There was not enough room to accommodate everyone in the small village church but there was food and drink in the grounds of the house to serve a regiment.
Bolitho had promised to give no hint to Zenoria that he knew part of her secret. If Valentine Keen ever discovered the truth, or even some twisted rumour of it, there was no telling where it might end.
There were several incidents, trivial in their separate ways, but enough to make them glad they had decided to drive back to Chelsea on the same day. The first had occurred at the laying-out of the many presents brought by well-wishers, some of great value or handed down in a family, others notable for their warmth, like the fine carved hobby-horse, its card written in Ozzard's pinched hand to show it was a gift from Allday, who with Bolitho had been introduced to the gathering by Keen as 'The two men who saved my life when I thought all was lost.'
It had happened before they had all gone to the church, and the room's door had been ajar so that Bolitho had not been able to ignore the angry voice of Keen's father.
'Sometimes I think you are a damned fool! A King's captain and a brave one you certainly are but sense? You don't have the sense you were born with! ' Catherine had pulled at his arm, but Bolitho had heard the voice continue. 'Why not wait to see how the boy develops, eh? I'd like to think his name might follow mine in the City, or in the profession of law. I don't want to see him on the roll of killed or missing! '
The cause of his anger was Keen's gift to his tiny son: a beautifully fashioned midshipman's dirk 'to wear one day with pride'. When Keen had shown it to them Bolitho had seen the shaft of despair on Zenoria's features, had seen her quick glance at Catherine, perhaps her only true friend.
His disturbing thoughts continued. He recalled when he had found Adam drinking heavily in the cabin when they had been homeward bound. Was that only two months ago? I should have known, challenged him myself.
Another incident, perhaps to be expected. A woman had approached Bolitho and after a defiant glance at Catherine announced loudly, 'I took tea with your wife some days ago in London, Sir Richard. Such an enjoyable occasion! '
Two bright patches of colour had burned on her cheeks as Bolitho had answered quietly, 'For you, I daresay it would be.'
He had seen the expressions and sensed the nudges among the guests, but others from the villages had shown
