The governor had more or less admitted that he had not liked Raymond. It was just as well, Sayer had decided.
Now, as he stood in his own cabin again, Sayer was uncertain how to face Bolitho when he came aboard. He was a fine officer, better still, he was a good man. But Sayer had his own responsibility. It was the chain of command again.
His captain peered into the cabin. “Tempest’s gig approaching, sir.”
“Very well. Receive Captain Bolitho and show him aft.”
He turned towards the windows again. Mrs Raymond was a very beautiful woman, or so he had heard. He supposed she had taken passage here merely to keep her husband company. She would hardly fit into the Sydney society, he thought. Officials, officers of the Corps, their wives and their women. Sayer had seen more social gatherings in Cornwall than he had out here. Not quite the thing for a lady of breeding.
He heard the stamp of feet, the trill of the boatswains’ calls as the side party paid its respects to a visiting captain. He turned and faced the door, bracing himself without knowing why.
When Bolitho entered he looked as he had that morning. In his dress coat, with his gold-laced hat tucked under one arm, he was, Sayer thought, enough to win any lady’s heart. He was very tanned, and his black hair with the rebellious lock above one eye gleamed in the filtered sunlight like a raven’s wing. He looked at ease, and with none of the strain Sayer had seen when he had first sailed into Sydney harbour.
“Sit down, Richard.” Sayer looked at him awkwardly. “I’ve just come from the governor. Been with him for hours. I’m about dead with weariness.”
“I’m sorry, sir. But I hope the visit was worthwhile.”
“Worthwhile?” The commodore looked at him grimly. “I thought he was going to have a fit!” He wrenched open a hanging wine cooler and took out a bottle and some glasses. “God damn it, Richard, is it true about you and Raymond’s lady?” He swung round, wine slopping unnoticed over his shoes. “Because if it is, you are pleading for trouble!”
Bolitho took the proffered glass, giving himself time. It was to be expected. After what had happened, it had to be, so why was it a surprise?
He replied, “I do not know what you were told, sir.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Richard, don’t play with words! We’re both sailors. We know how these things happen. God, with your attack and rescue, I’d think every woman in Sydney would give herself to you tonight!”
Bolitho put down his glass. “Viola Raymond is not a whore, sir. I met her five years back. Then, I thought it was over when in fact it had only begun. She is married to the wrong man. He is vain, arrogant and dangerous.” He could almost listen to the level tone of his voice. Again, like a bystander. “I have no regrets other than the regret for the lost years. When she returns to England, she will leave her London residence and await my return.” He looked up, his voice quiet. “I am deeply in love with her.”
Sayer eyed him gravely. He was shocked by the disclosure, but touched by Bolitho’s sincerity and his willingness to share his hopes with him.
He said, “The governor is sending his despatches to England tonight in the Quail. In them will be a request for Tempest’s transfer to home waters. What you have wanted, if for other reasons. But it will take months before those despatches are delivered and replied to. By then anything may have happened.”
“I know, sir. And thank you for telling me.”
Sayer had shown his concern by disclosing the governor’s plans. Bolitho could now, if he so wished, put his own report and letters aboard the same brig. If he lacked influence, he had plenty of friends. He was moved that Sayer had laid himself open for his sake.
Sayer said heavily, “I know little of James Raymond, but what I have seen I regard as unfriendly.”
“We are both firmly set on our course, sir.”
Bolitho could see her eyes in his mind, feel her skin, the touch of her long autumn hair.
“She will wait for my return to England.”
“She is not going to England, Richard.” Sayer felt sickened by his own words. “She is to go with Raymond to his new appointment in the Levu Group.” He stood up quietly. “Believe me, she has no choice. The governor is bound to offer his assistance and support to Raymond, and no amount of pleading or finance on your part can put her aboard the Quail for England.”
Bolitho stared at him. “Then she will remain in Sydney until…”
“Would you have that?” Sayer looked away. “How they would delight in sneering at her. Scandal is news here, rumour the pathway to jealous and petty minds.”
Bolitho could not believe it, and yet he knew it was exactly what Raymond would do. If he could not break them apart, he would ensure that she was trapped.
He said, “But the Great South Sea, sir. How long can a woman survive in the islands? It is bad enough here, but the conditions are like a palace compared with the primitive islands. She has been through all this before. No man, no real man would ask it of anyone, let alone her.”
“I know.” Sayer looked at him sadly. “But Raymond is under stress to make this work successful. There will be some convict labour too, a showing of occupation, which should inspire confidence until proper arrangements have been made.”
Bolitho leaned back in the chair, his eyes seeing nothing.
That third night aboard Eurotas he had gone to her in the great cabin. She had shared it only with the girl she had taken under her protection. The wretched girl barely spoke, and was still shocked and terrified whenever a man went near her. For Viola she would do anything.
Raymond had been given a separate cabin, just as before when they had sailed in Bolitho’s ship. But this time there had been a difference.
Desperation, desire and an overwhelming relief at finding each other again had broken down all barriers of caution.
He could hear her voice as if she were here, and not Sayer.
“We are in a ghost-ship, darling Richard. We are alone. I want you so badly that I am ashamed. Need you so much that you may be ashamed of me.”
He came out of his despair as Sayer said, “You will be under orders to escort Eurotas to the Levu Group.” He watched the pain in Bolitho’s eyes, imagined how he would feel under similar circumstances. Forced to watch the woman he loved and be unable to reach her. “The governor has no other forces at his disposal, and Tuke may be intent on another attack.”
Bolitho said quietly, “I will kill him.”
Sayer looked away. Who did he mean? Tuke or Raymond?
When he spoke again Bolitho sounded calm. Too calm.
“How long do we have, sir?”
“A few days. With the seasonal storms becoming more frequent, and the delay caused by all this, things have become more urgent.” He tried to sound matter of fact. “One thing, Richard. You are not to see her in Sydney.” He saw him start. “And as a favour to me, I’d like you to remain aboard until you weigh, except on matters pertaining to duty and the ship’s affairs.”
Bolitho stood up. “I understand.”
“Good. I have too much respect for you to give you a lecture.
But time passes, old pains are forgotten. You are going to need all your wits. Tuke is a vicious pirate and no hero, as some legends would have him. I believe he is here to sell his special services to someone, which is why he is arming and storing his vessels at our cost. Maybe he seeks respectability under a letter of marque, to become a mercenary instead of a hunted pirate. It is common enough.” He lowered his voice. “And you will have Raymond watching and waiting for you to make a mistake.”
Bolitho said, “The French and the Dons have long been interested in these waters, but without much success.”
He felt nothing. Could find no excitement at the prospect of a new mission, a chance of running Tuke to earth.
Sayer nodded. “In the last despatches they speak of starvation and riots in France, even in Paris. So the King will be too busy to cast his eyes towards us. But Spain?” He shrugged. “No matter what flag the devil flies, I want him taken and hanged before his fire spreads. One good thing though, the Bounty has vanished. Foundered, I
