What would become of her if Dumaresq carried out his threat?
He swung angrily on his heel and made his way towards the open doors. When he entered he realized that some of the guests had already gone, and the commandant of the batteries was bowing almost to the floor as he swept his hat across his corpulent belly.
Egmont was there with his wife, his face pale but otherwise impassive.
Dumaresq too seemed as before, nodding to the departing Portuguese, kissing the gloved hand of the chandler’s lady. It was like seeing two different people from the ones he had overheard just a few rooms away.
Dumaresq said, “I think my officers are unanimous in their delight at your table, Mr Egmont.”
His glance settled on Bolitho for a second. No more, but Bolitho sensed the question as if it had been shouted aloud.
“I hope we can repay your kindness. But duty is duty, as you will know from experience.”
Bolitho glanced round, but nobody had noticed the sudden tension between Egmont and the captain.
Egmont turned away and said, “We will say good-night, gentlemen.”
His wife came forward, her eyes in shadow as she held out her hand to Dumaresq.
“It is good-morning now, no?”
He smiled and kissed her hand. “You are a delight to see at any hour, ma’am.”
His gaze lingered on her bared bosom, and Bolitho flushed as he recalled what Dumaresq had said about the girl who had watched their carriage.
She smiled at the captain, her eyes clear now in the candlelight. “Then I think you have seen enough for one day, sir!”
Dumaresq laughed and took his hat from a servant while the others made their farewells.
Rhodes was carried bodily from the house and laid in a waiting carriage, a blissful smile on his face.
Palliser muttered, “Damned disgrace!”
Colpoys, whose pride was the only thing which prevented his collapsing like Rhodes, exclaimed thickly, “A fine night, ma’am.” He bowed and almost fell over.
Egmont said tersely, “I think you had better go inside, Aurora, it grows damp and chill.”
Bolitho stared at her. Aurora. What an exquisite name. He retrieved his hat and made to follow the others.
“Well now, Lieutenant, have you nothing to say to me?”
She looked at him as she had the first time, her head slightly on one side. He saw it in her eyes, the dare, the challenge.
“I am sorry, ma’am.”
She held out her hand. “You must not apologize so often. I wish we had had more time to speak. But there were so many.” She tossed her head and the ruby tails flashed on her bosom. “I hope you were not too bored?”
Bolitho realized that she had removed her long white glove before she offered her hand.
He held her fingers and said, “I was not bored. I was in despair. There is a difference.”
She withdrew her hand, and Bolitho thought he had ruined everything by his clumsiness.
But she was looking at her husband who was listening to Bulkley’s parting words. Then she said softly, “We cannot have you in despair, Lieutenant, now can we?” She looked at him steadily, her eyes very bright. “It would never do.”
Bolitho bowed and murmured, “May I see you?”
Egmont called, “Come along, the others are leaving.” He shook Bolitho’s hand. “Do not delay your captain. It does not pay.”
Bolitho walked out to one of the waiting carriages and climbed inside. She knew and understood. And now, after what he had overheard, she would need a friend. He stared blindly into the darkness, remembering her voice, the warm touch of her fingers.
“ Aurora.” He started, realizing he had spoken her name aloud.
But he need not have bothered, his companions were already fast asleep.
She was twisting in his arms, laughing and provoking him as he tried to hold her, to feel the touch of her bare shoulder against his lips.
Bolitho awoke gasping in his cot, his head throbbing wildly as he blinked at the lantern above his face.
It was Yeames, master’s mate, his eyes curious as he watched the lieutenant’s confusion, his reluctance to let go of a dream.
Bolitho asked, “What time is it?”
Yeames grinned unsympathetically. “Dawn, sir. The ’ands is just turnin’ to to ’olystone and scrub down.” He added as an afterthought, “The cap’n wants you.”
Bolitho rolled out of his cot and kept his feet well apart on the deck for fear of falling. The brief respite on Egmont’s cool terrace had gone, and his head felt as if it contained a busy anvil, while his throat tasted vile.
Dawn, Yeames had said. He had not been in his cot for more than two hours.
In the next cabin he heard Rhodes groaning as if in agony, and then yelping in protest as an unknown seaman dropped something heavy on the quarterdeck overhead.
Yeames prompted, “Better ’urry, sir.”
Bolitho tugged on his breeches and groped for his shirt which had been tossed in one corner of the tiny space. “Trouble?”
Yeames shrugged. “Depends wot you mean by trouble, sir.”
To him Bolitho was still a stranger and an unknown quantity. To share what he knew, merely because Bolitho was worried, would be stupid.
Bolitho found his hat, and tugging on his coat he hurried through the wardroom and blundered aft towards the cabin.
The sentry called, “Third lieutenant, sir! ” and Macmillan, the captain’s servant, opened the screen door as if he had been waiting behind it.
Bolitho stepped through into the after cabin and saw Dumaresq by the stern windows. His hair was awry, and he looked as if he had not found time to undress after his return from Egmont’s house. In a corner by the quarter windows, Spillane, the newly appointed clerk, was scratching away with his pen, trying to show no concern at being called at such an early hour. The other two present were Gulliver, the master, and Midshipman Jury.
Dumaresq glared at Bolitho. “You should have come immediately! I do not expect my officers to dress as if they are going to a ball when I need them!”
Bolitho glanced down at his crumpled shirt and twisted stockings. Also, with his hat clamped beneath one arm, his hair was falling over his face, just as it had been on the pillow. Hardly suitable for a ball.
Dumaresq said, “During my absence ashore, your seaman Murray escaped. He was not in his cell, but being taken to the sick-bay because he had complained about a severe pain in his stomach.” He turned his wrath on the master. “God damn it, Mr Gulliver, it was obvious what he was doing!”
Gulliver licked his lips. “I was in charge of the ship, sir. It was my responsibility. I saw no cause for Murray to suffer, an’ the man not yet found guilty as charged.”
Midshipman Jury said, “The message was brought aft to me, sir. It was my fault.”
Dumaresq replied tersely, “Speak when you are addressed. It was not your fault, because midshipmen do not have responsibility. Neither do they possess the wit or the brains to be in a position to say what this or that man shall do!” His eyes trained round on Gulliver again. “Tell Mr Bolitho the rest.”
Gulliver said harshly, “The ship’s corporal was escorting him when Murray pushed him down. He was outboard and swimming for the shore before the alarm was raised.” He looked downcast and humiliated at having to repeat his explanation for a junior lieutenant’s benefit.
Dumaresq said, “So there it is. Your trust in that man was wasted. He escaped a flogging, but when he is taken he will hang.” He glanced at Spillane. “Note it in the log. Run.”
Bolitho looked at Jury’s dismay. There were only three ways for a man to quit the Navy, and they were noted as R, D, or DD, Run implied desertion, D stood for discharged. Murray ’s next entry would be the last. Discharged- Dead.
And all because of a watch. And yet, in spite of the disappointment over his trust in Murray, Bolitho was
