must not involve yourself with the affairs of subordinates. You command, they obey, it is the old order of things, as well you know.”
Bolitho stood up and smiled. “Yes, sir.”
The vice-admiral waited until his visitor had reached the door and then said, “Give the lady my warmest regards. She might care to sup with me before she leaves the Rock, eh?”
As the door closed Studdart walked slowly to the stern windows and stared at the anchored ships of his squadron.
Bolitho would not take heed of his advice, and they both knew it.
The second time he might not be so lucky. Either way. Death or ignominy would be the outcome if he failed again.
Yet in spite of that realization Studdart was surprised to find he envied him.
The Honourable East India Company’s ship Duchess of Cornwall presented a scene of orderly confusion which left little room for the courtesies of greeting a King’s officer, even a rear-admiral.
Leaving Allday scowling up from the barge, and followed closely by Browne, Bolitho allowed himself to be led aft by a harassed lieutenant.
She was a fine ship, he thought grudgingly. No wonder sailors preferred the pay and comfort of an Indiaman to the harsh life in a man-of-war.
Tackles swayed and bobbed from lighters alongside, and as cargo was unloaded with skilled ease, more boxes and well-packed nets were lowered through the hatches for the next leg of the voyage.
The most unfamiliar setting to Bolitho was the chattering crowd of passengers who had either come aboard or were waiting to be ferried across to the garrison.
Wives of senior officers and officials, Bolitho supposed, part of that unseen army of which the people at home knew very little. Storemen and chandlers, sailmakers and farriers, ships’ agents and soldiers of fortune, they must surely outnumber the rest by two to one.
“The captain is here, sir.”
Bolitho scarcely heard him. She stood by the rail, one hand holding her hat to shield her face from the sun. Its ribbon was pale blue like her gown, and when she laughed at something the captain had said to her, Bolitho felt his heart almost stop beating.
An instinct made her turn towards him, her brown eyes very steady as she held his gaze with hers.
The Indiaman’s captain was thickset and competent. Another Herrick perhaps.
He said, “Welcome aboard, sir. I’ve just been telling Mrs Laidlaw that I’d willingly sacrifice every penny I make on this voyage just to keep her as my passenger.”
She joined with his laughter, but her eyes told Bolitho to ignore it. Other people’s words had no value here.
Bolitho took her hand and kissed it. The touch of her skin, the smell of its freshness, almost broke his reserve. Maybe he had not recovered and would make a fool of himself when all he wanted to do was…
She said softly, “I prayed for this moment, dearest. For this and all the others to come.” Her lip quivered but she tossed her head with something like defiance. “I never doubted you would come. Never.”
The ship’s captain backed away to join the other passengers, murmuring something which neither of them heard.
She looked at Browne and smiled. “I am glad you are safe, Lieutenant. And free again.”
Then she put her hand through Bolitho’s arm and turned him towards the side, shutting out everyone but themselves.
“Thomas Herrick sent word over to the ship, Richard.” She squeezed his arm tightly. “He told me something of what you endured, about your friend Neale. Don’t hide the hurt from me, dearest. There’s no need any more.”
Bolitho said, “I wanted him to live so much, but perhaps it was to reassure myself because of what I had brought him to. I- I thought I understood, but I had learned nothing. Perhaps I care too much, but I cannot change now, nor can I toss lives away merely because my orders are unquestioned.” He turned and looked down at her face, fixing it in his mind like a perfect portrait. “But my love for you is real. Nothing can ever change that. I did think-”
She reached up and closed his lips with her fingers. “No. I am here because I wanted to try and help. It must have been decided we should meet here.” She tossed back her hair and laughed. “I am happy now. And I shall make you so!”
Bolitho touched her hair and remembered how it had hidden her face in the overturned carriage. That too had been “decided.” Prearranged. So there was a fate, just as there was hope.
A master’s mate hovered beside them and touched his hat nervously. He did not look at Bolitho, who guessed the man had probably run from the Navy originally to find security in the East India Company.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, ma’am, but the boat’s waitin’, with your maid already aboard with your boxes.”
“Thank you.” She squeezed Bolitho’s hand’s until her nails bit into his skin. She whispered, “I’m so sorry, my dearest, but I am close to tears. My joy is almost too much.” She smiled and pushed the hair from her eyes. “I must say farewell to the ship’s captain. He has been most attentive. But I think he was somewhat in awe when he saw you in the Benbow! ”
Bolitho smiled. “I never thought I’d want to be a grocery captain like him. But with you for a passenger, I’m not so sure.”
Browne watched fascinated as the lines softened around Bolitho’s mouth and eyes. A few minutes together and she had done that for him. One day he would meet a girl like Belinda Laidlaw, such as the one in his dreams, galloping to meet him on a splendid mount.
A thought crossed his mind, and when Bolitho walked to the entry port he saw Benbow’s barge directly below him, the maid and a pile of boxes filling the sternsheets where Allday stood beaming up at him.
Browne explained awkwardly, “Well, sir, I thought, for the admiral’s lady it should be an admiral’s barge.”
Bolitho looked at him gravely and then touched his arm. “That was well said, Oliver. I’ll not forget.”
Browne flushed. “And here she comes, sir.”
She joined them by the port and stared down at the greenpainted barge for several seconds.
Then she looked at Bolitho, her eyes misty. “For me, Richard?”
Bolitho nodded. “I’d give you the world if I could.”
With great care she was assisted into the barge, the seamen in their checkered shirts and tarred hats peering round their tossed oars as if a creature from another world had suddenly come amongst them.
Allday held out his hand to guide her to a cushion on the thwart, but she took it in hers and said quietly, “I am pleased to see you again, John Allday.”
Allday swallowed hard and waited for Bolitho to sit down. She had come to them. She had even remembered his name.
He glanced at the maid and winked.
“Bear off forrard!”
Allday thought of the lordly Indiaman and the easy discipline of her people. Then he looked at his barge crew, men hardened by the sea and by war. Originally from the jails and the gutters, but he knew he would not change one of them for John Company’s hands.
“Give way, all!”
“What will you do now, Belinda?” It was even hard to speak her name aloud after nursing it in his mind for so long.
“Take passage for England.” She turned to look at Benbow as the barge swept abeam. “I would that I could sail with her!”
Bolitho smiled. “In a King’s ship? Poor Thomas would never rest at nights with you in his care!”
She dropped her eyes. “I must be alone with you. I am ashamed of the way I feel, but I am helpless.”
Bolitho saw the eyes of the stroke oarsman fix on a point somewhere above the girl’s shoulder. If he had heard her words the stroke would have been thrown into chaos.
“I am the same. Once I have seen you received ashore I shall see what must be done for your safe passage to England.” He wanted to touch her, to hold her.
She asked, “When will you be going home?”
Bolitho heard the note of anxiety in her voice. “Soon.” He tried not to think about his despatches which he
