and a few passers-by. His shabby red coat showed he had once been a marine, the darker patch on one sleeve where the chevrons had once been sewn told Herrick he had also been a sergeant.
Herrick fumbled for some coins in his pocket and thrust them at the crippled figure. He was ashamed and embarrassed, angry too that such a man could end like this. If peace did eventually come, there would be many more red coats begging in the streets.
But the man did not seem at all perturbed. He gave a broad grin and touched his forehead with mock smartness.
“Sar’nt Tolcher, sir. This is the life, eh, Cap’n?”
Herrick nodded sadly. “What ship, Sergeant?”
“Last one, sir? The old Culloden, Cap’n Troubridge, a real gennelman ’e was, for a sea-officer, that’s to say.”
Herrick needed to go, but something held him. This unknown marine had been at the Nile when he and Bolitho had been there. Another ship, but there.
“Good luck to you.” Herrick hurried away towards the entrance.
The marine pocketed the money, aware that his small audience had gone. But the stocky captain with the bright blue eyes had made up for a lot.
Down to the Volunteer now for a few pots of ale with the lads.
His crutch scraping over the cobbles, the crippled marine, one-time sergeant in the Culloden, was soon lost from sight.
Both women were facing the door as Herrick entered their room, as if they had been there for hours.
He said, “I am sorry, Dulcie, I was detained. Fresh orders.”
He did not see the sudden anxiety in his wife’s eyes for he was looking at the girl who was standing by an unlit fire.
God, she is beautiful. She was dressed in a dark green gown, her chestnut hair tied back to the nape of her neck by a matching ribbon. She looked pale, her brown eyes filling her face as she asked, “Any news, Thomas?”
Herrick was moved both by her control and the easy use of his name.
He replied, “Not yet.” He walked to a small table, picked up a glass and put it down again. “But news travels slowly, good news that is.”
He walked across to her and took her hands in his. Against his hard seaman’s hands they felt soft and gentle. Helpless.
She said quietly, “Dulcie told me what you wrote in your note. And I heard something about the loss of the ship from some officers downstairs. Is there any hope?”
Her eyes lifted to his. They made her outward calm a lie. Her eyes were pleading with him.
Herrick said, “We know very little at present. It’s a foul bit of coast there, and as far as I can discover, Styx foundered after hitting something, possibly a wreck, and went down immediately.”
Herrick had gone over it a hundred times, even while he had been explaining his orders to the other captains. He knew well enough what it would have been like. Herrick had lost a command of his own. He could hear the din of falling spars, the screams, the pandemonium of a well-ordered ship falling apart. Men swimming and dying. Some going bravely, others cursing their mothers’ names until the sea silenced them.
“But your Richard was in good company. Allday would be at his side, and young Neale was a first-rate captain.”
She looked quickly at the other woman. “Who will tell his nephew?”
Herrick released her hands very gently. “No need for that. He was there. Aboard the ship which-” He caught the words in time. “In Phalarope. She was in company at the time.”
Dulcie Herrick touched her breast. “Bless the boy.”
“Aye. He’ll take it badly.”
Belinda Laidlaw sat down for the first time since she had left the coach.
“Captain Herrick.” She tried to smile. “Thomas, for you are his friend, and now mine too, I hope. What do you think happened?”
Herrick felt his wife place a glass in his hand and eyed her warmly.
Then he said, “Richard has always been a frigate captain at heart. He would want to go for the enemy, waste no time. But as the rear-admiral in total command he had other responsibilities this day. To execute Admiral Beauchamp’s plan to help rid England of a mounting threat of invasion. It was his task, his duty.” He looked at her imploringly. “God, ma’am, if you knew how he cared, what it cost him to put to sea without seeing you, without explaining. The last time I saw him he was fretting about it, the unfairness to you.” He added firmly, “But if you know Richard, really know him, you will understand that to him honour and love are as one.”
She nodded, her lips moist. “That I do know. I will have it no other way. We met only last year, merely months ago, of which time I have been with him just a few days. How I envy you, Thomas, sharing things with him, looking back on memories I shall never know.” She shook her head, her hair tossing over one shoulder. “I will never give him up, Thomas. Not now.”
Tears ran unheeded down her cheeks, but when Herrick and his wife moved towards her she said, “No. I am all right! I do not intend to lose myself in self-pity now that Richard needs me.”
Herrick stared at her. “That warms me deeply, ma’am. But do not destroy yourself for hoping too much, promise me.”
“Too much?” She walked to the open windows and stepped out on to the balcony, her slim figure framed against the sea and sky. “Impossible. He is what I live for. There is nothing more I care about, dear friend.”
Herrick felt his wife’s hand in his and squeezed it gently. Belinda was like a ship caught aback by a fierce squall. Only time would tell.
He looked at his wife as she whispered, “You spoke of orders, Thomas?”
“Forgive me, dearest. With all this on my mind…” He looked at the window as the girl re-entered the room. “I have been ordered to sail with a merchant convoy to Gibraltar. Several valuable cargoes, I understand, and a rich prize at any time.”
He recalled his dismay and fury at being sent on a convoy when he needed to be here. Admiral Hoskyn had spoken of his respect for him. But if he refused to accept this first duty as acting-commodore, not respect, love, even a knighthood would save him. The Navy had a long, long memory.
He added, “It will be a safe if wearisome task, and I shall be back in Plymouth before you know it.” It was only half a lie, and came easier than he had expected.
Belinda touched his sleeve. “Will the ships come here?”
“Aye. Two from Bristol and the others from the Downs.”
She nodded her head, her eyes very bright. “I shall take passage in one of them. I have some friends in Gibraltar. With friends and money I might be able to discover some news of Richard.”
Herrick opened his mouth to protest but shut it as he saw Dulcie give a brief shake of the head. It was true that more information had been gleaned from Spain and Portugal about dead or missing officers than through accepted sources, but her sincerity, her incredible belief that Richard Bolitho was alive and safe would leave her vulnerable, and a long way from help if the worst happened.
“One is an Indiaman, the Duchess of Cornwall. I believe you had some contact with John Company in India. I am certain they will make you as comfortable as they can. I will send her master a letter.” He forced a grin. “Being a commodore must have some uses!”
She smiled gravely. “Thank you. You are good to me. I only wish I could sail with you instead.”
Herrick flushed. “Lord, ma’am, with all the roughknots and gallows’-bait I have to carry as my company, I’d not rest easy in my cot!”
She tossed her hair from her shoulder. No wonder Bolitho was completely captivated, Herrick thought.
She said, “At least I shall see your ship every day, Thomas. I will not feel so alone.”
Dulcie took her hand in hers. “You will never be that, my dear.”
Herrick heard a clock chime and cursed it silently.
“I have to leave.” He looked at the girl in the green gown. “You will have to get used to this too.” He was deceiving her. Or was he gaining some of her courage, her belief?
Outside in the cooler evening air everything looked much as before. Herrick glanced at the street corner, half
