help of a good overseer, took care of their mother and Deerfield.
Admiral Lord Anthony had turned his back on it all, saying, “a man should not tarry in a place where never blows a fair wind.” He had kept in touch with his children, and they had visited with their father in secret. They had once told their mother of these visits, and it was then that Gil found the true meaning of “a foul wind.”
Gil had questioned his father as to the reason for the separation with his mother. Lord Anthony’s only remark was that some things were better left alone. The matter was never mentioned again. Lord Anthony had moved to Portsmouth and bought a townhouse where he could peer out the second floor windows or sit on a balcony and see the ships and the harbor. He also acquired a mistress named Maria, a gypsy woman-with eyes and hair as black as the darkest night. She was twenty years younger than Lord Anthony but their life had been happy regardless of their age difference. Maria was seductive without trying. She was elegant and possessed a quiet humor that made liking her easy. Not wanting to be disloyal to his mother, Gil still had to admit his father had been a lucky man to have shared life with Maria.
Father had never been sick to Gil’s recollection. However, he was now seventy-eight years old. He had looked so robust just a year ago, but this was not the case any longer.
Upon entering his father’s home, Gil was shocked at the appearance of the man before him. His decline in health was appalling. Nothing was familiar except the hand-carved meerschaum pipe his father had clinched between his teeth. Through calm seas and cannon balls, that pipe had always been there.
Upon entering his father’s room, Gil could see his father’s eyes light up. The fire was dimmed but not out. His father’s rough Scottish accent was still plain as he spoke, the voice still commanding though not as strong as it once was.
“I’m glad ye made it. I was about to have this lawyer set things down on paper the way I wanted them to be. I still will, so’s there’ll be a record, jus’ in case something should happen to me sudden like. I pray not, but it could.”
Gil nodded his greeting to the barrister. Lord Anthony paused to catch his breath, then started speaking again. “Now I can see ye be ripe and bursting with questions. However, I ask ye to hold ‘em for now, cause my time is short. There are things that have to be said and agreed upon. You can ask questions later iffen I’m still with the living.’’
Gil nodded his willingness to do as his father requested, thinking all the time that he was still acting like an admiral, in command right up to the end. Lord Anthony called Maria into the room. She came in and sat on the arm of the chair next to him. His father resumed his conversation once Maria was settled.
“You know Maria has been my life for twenty years. I would have married her had there been a way. But it was not to be. Your mother’s family had more influence with the church than I did so my petition for a divorce was never granted. When I’m gone this house is to be hers along with a trust I’ve set aside. You know all this. What you don’t know, Gil, is that you have a brother.”
The barrister had suddenly found an extra burst of energy; his quill flew over the paper as he wrote down this new information.
“Our son has been named after his grandfathers. He’s been entered in my Bible as Gabriel Marcus Anthony. Poor as some may think it, I do want him to share in what little status the name may make in regards to his birthright. I want you, as my eldest son, the son who’ll inherit my title and all of Deerfield, to give me your word that my wishes will be carried out-that Gabe will be accepted as an Anthony. Do I have your word on this, my son?” Lord James Anthony could barely hold back the tears as he asked for his son’s promise.
“Aye, Father, you have my vow,” Gil answered with a quaver in his voice and a renewed sense of compassion and love for the man who sat before him. A deep sigh of relief escaped the old man. Pausing long enough to catch his breath again, Lord Anthony continued, but his voice was weaker. Gil grew concerned, though still refusing to interrupt his father.
“Your brother is a midshipman. He’s spent four years with Captain Suckling on
Vice Admiral Lord James Anthony died two days later. Gil was overwhelmed with emotion as his father’s friends and shipmates turned out for the funeral. Despite the icy rain mixed with snow, people braved the cold to pay their last respects. When the chapel had filled, people stood in the freezing slush till the service had ended. Even Lord Sandwich, the First lord of the Admiralty, attended.
Gil’s sister, Becky, and her husband Hugh were there with their little girl, Gretchen. Gil thought her the most spoiled little nit he’d ever seen. Maria was there with Gabe. It was the first time Gil had a chance to meet his brother. Looking at Maria during the eulogy, Gil could see the toll his father’s illness and death had taken on her, and he couldn’t help but feel kindly toward her. She had given herself totally to his father, but to some she would always be just Lord Anthony’s mistress. Gil would never forget the look of relief in her eyes when he embraced her at the gravesite and kissed her hand. He wanted her to know she would always be special to him. The First Lord had given him a flag on behalf of the nation in honor of his father. Gil in turn gave it to Maria. She deserved it much more than he did.
After the funeral Gil approached Becky and Hugh. “I see mother didn’t attend.”
“Did you expect her to?” Becky replied.
“No, but I wasn’t sure.”
“Well, it was probably better for all present that she didn’t,” Hugh added as he gazed over at Maria and Gabe.
Chapter Two
Dampness seemed to fill the coach. Anthony pulled his boat cloak more tightly about him, yet he was unable to prevent a shudder as a gust of wind penetrated the confines of the coach, sending a chill right through him. The sun had all but set, and with its setting, the air would grow much colder. Anthony knew they still had a long journey before they reached London and was going to be most uncomfortable. Gabe sat across from Anthony. Slumped in his seat, Gabe appeared to be dozing. The two had talked little since the funeral. Anthony detected an air of anger about the boy and was not sure of its origin. Was it due to the fact that his birth had not benefited from a proper wedding? He had his mother’s good looks, her darkness and her eyes, but everything else was his father’s. His laughs were quick, but Gil was betting his temper was quicker. He was quiet, but seemed to have wit. He also seemed very suspicious, but under the circumstances, who wouldn’t be? How many times had he been called the Admiral’s bastard behind his back? How many times had he heard? Could this be why he seemed so guarded and quick to anger?
Anthony had given his word to his dying father to take Gabe under his wing and make him a sea officer. This was a promise he didn’t take lightly. However, he wondered how the relationship would play out, and would he be able to accept Gabe, not only as a midshipman but also as his brother. How would Gabe accept him?
Anthony hoped the summons from the Admiralty would be to receive orders, hopefully command of another ship, something to get him away; he needed the sea. While some men detested life aboard ship he found comfort in its confines. Lord Anthony, Gil’s father, had discussed this love for the sea with him many times.
“Gil, ye were born with salt water in ye veins,” Father had joked. Thinking of his father made Gil think of the messenger who had carried the urgent news of Lord Anthony’s ill health.
The messenger, Dagan, was a mystery. He was Maria’s younger brother and Gabe’s uncle. Anthony had guessed him to be in his mid to late twenties, but he seemed much older for some reason. At Lord Anthony’s
