Chapter One
'It's a fine Navy day is it not, Mr. Oxford?' Lord Anthony greeted Warrior's master.
'Aye, my lord, it promises to be just that, long as we keep our distance from yonder island.' The winds had been perverse and after two days of a northern gale Anthony could understand the master's apprehensions.
Patrolling the frigid water from Nantucket to Halifax and back was bad enough, but to be pushed onto the rocks in a heavy gale would likely mean certain death.
Sable Island lay off the larboard beam. In the years since 1750, both the French and British navy had lost al manner of ships, from third rates to brigs, off Sable's treacherous waters.
'Morning, my Lord!'
Turning, Anthony greeted his flag captain,
''Morning, Dutch.'
Captain Moffett had strolled up to the windward side of the quarterdeck to greet his admiral. Rightful y this space belonged to Moffett by tradition but old habits died hard. How many times had Lord Anthony paced this area on his own ship? Moffett couldn't recall ever hearing of a captain confronting an admiral over where he could or couldn't pace on his flagship.
'Has our flock returned to the mother hen, Dutch?'
'Aye, my lord, Pigeon and Audacity have returned on station. Merlin and Drakkar were able to keep station during the gale.'
Merlin…Buck, steady Mr. Buck, now a captain in command of his own ship. Anthony had never known a more reliable man. And Pope, who was now captain on Drakkar, had proven himself time and time again fighting pirates in the West Indies.
Lieutenant Harold Kerry in command of Pigeon and Lieutenant George Bush in command of Audacity were unknowns. They both seemed capable seaman but neither had the experience of Steve Earl, Gabe, or even Markham.
Realizing Moffett had spoken Anthony replied, 'I'm sorry Dutch, my mind is adrift today.' Moffett had sensed Lord Anthony was worried.
Lieutenant Anthony and SeaWolf should have been back weeks ago. That combined with running before the gale for two days had increased Lord Anthony's anxiety.
'I was saying sir, I wouldn't be surprised if 'young Gabe'-as Bart was so apt to cal Lieutenant Anthony-didn't get sent on some errand by Lord Howe.'
'That's possible,' Anthony replied without conviction.
Changing tack Moffett continued, 'With your permission, my Lord, I'd thought I'd have the bosun pipe ’make and mend'. After the wetting we took from
the gale the crew could use the time to patch things up and dry out some clothes.'
'I agree, Dutch, but it's your ship. You don't need my permission for your daily routine.'
'Thank you, my Lord, here comes your cox'n.' Anthony watched as his cox'n approached. Another reliable man. 'Damme Bart, but you appear more like a senior officer than I do dressed in your cox'n coat.'
'It's the one yews picked out, sir, and glad I ams of it. It be much colder here than at ’ome.'
'I agree,' Anthony replied. 'Now tell me, Bart, what's so urgent to have you moving before the forenoon watch?
'Breakfast.'
'Breakfast?'
'Aye, sir, Silas done said to hurry on down afore the eggs get cold.'
'He does, does he?'
'Aye, sir, iffen yews to be awhile we'uns will dispose of ’ em and Silas will set to cooking yews some more.'
'Uh huh! And am I to understand that by disposing of the eggs means the two of you will eat them?'
'’s one way of disposing of ’em, I guess; now yews mentioned it. ’Hit would be sinful to waste ’em.'
'Well, go dispose of them as you and Silas see fit but tell Silas I'll be there directly and if I don't have a hot breakfast he'll taste the cats, a dozen at least'
'Aye cap'n, oh aye sir, taste the cat he will, ha! ha!, and I'll count the lashes for you, I will.'
'Count the lashes, you old dog, you couldn't count past ten with your boots off.'
'That may be true, sir, but I's bettin' old Silas'd never last more'n ’alf a dozen. That's me wager.' As always Bart had spoken the last word then had gone.
Anthony had finished his eggs and was on his second cup of coffee when the marine announced, 'Flag lieutenant, zur.'
'Gunfire,' Markham exclaimed as he burst into the cabin.
'Are you sure?' Anthony questioned.
'Aye, my Lord.'
Trying not to appear too excited, Anthony made his way on deck with Markham and Bart in tow.
Captain Moffett had a glass to his eye peering at the group of sails just on the horizon. Sensing someone was near, Moffett acknowledged his admiral. 'Sorry, my Lord, my mind was on yonder sail.'
'As is mine,' Anthony replied, 'Have you been able to sort it out?'
'Aye, sir, it appears to be the convoy. We think the rear of the convoy is being harassed by those damn Colonial raiders. We patrol for weeks and not a sight, but just as soon as the convoy arrives so do the sharks.'
'No point in showing, less there's bounty to be had is there, Dutch?'
'No, my Lord, but it's vexing al the same.' About that time the lookout hailed down. 'Merlin's up to the head of the convoy, sir, but I can't make out what's happening further back in the pack.' Anthony looked to Moffett upon hearing the lookout's report.
'I sent Merlin and Audacity to investigate as they were closest to convoy,' Moffett stated. I'm sure those raiders will be less likely to hang around if there's a show of force.'
'Good,' Anthony replied.
Half an hour later the first of the convoy were clearly visible and headed to Halifax. Lieutenant Angus approached the first lieutenant, 'Have you noticed, sir, how al the ships in the Colonies are named. It amazes me. We've seen the Bonnie Lass, the Sarah, the Beloved Brenda. Do you think she's a wife or mistress?'
'I don't know,' Herrod answered Angus, 'But keep your eyes peeled for the Charming Peggy. She's been turned into a privateer.'
Hearing the Lieutenant's talk of wives and mistresses made Anthony think not only of his wife, Lady Deborah, but also of his father's mistress and Gabe's mother,
Maria. Deborah and his sister, Becky, had vowed to visit Maria frequently. Anthony could only imagine how alone she must feel living in the house in Portsmouth.
Her companion of many years now gone, and her son far away fighting in the war. Anthony prayed al was well. He also prayed Deborah was well. She was his wife, his friend, and his lover. She was al a woman should be. She had been very proud of Anthony's promotion, but on their last night together before the squadron sailed, she had whispered, 'Admiral you'll be to the world, but to me you'll always by my dashing captain.' She'd wanted to be left with child. 'Your leaving will be almost unbearable,' she'd said.
'I'll worry everyday, but if I'm with child, I believe, it would be much easier.' Deborah was nearly thirty while Anthony was thirty-eight. Neither were old, but old enough. Waiting would only worsen the risk for Deborah, Caleb had said. Well, if she were not with child it would not be from lack of trying. If she was, Anthony wondered when he would be home to see his child. How old would he or she be? God! So much to ponder.
'Deck there!' the lookout again. 'Merlin has come about and is headed our way. Looks like she's got a small prize.'
Anthony turned to his flag captain, 'Signal, have captain repair on board, once the rest of the convoy is up with
