Keen nodded. 'Aye. She died. It was a long time ago.'
He looked up. 'I cannot explain it, but it is real. Call it Fate, God's will, call it luck if you wish, but it is there, and it is not imagination. Some might say that everything is against me-' He tightened his grip as she made to speak. 'No, it must be said. I am so much older than you. I am a King's officer and my duty lies with my ship until this damned war is won.' He raised her hands to his mouth, just as he had seen himself in his thoughts of her. 'Do not laugh at me but hear me. I love you, Zenoria.' He expected her to pull away or to interrupt but she sat completely still, her eyes wide. He continued, 'It is like a great weight hoisted from my mind.' He said it again, slowly, 'I love you, Zenoria.'
He made to rise, but she threw her arms round his neck and whispered, 'Do not look at me.' Her voice was in his ear. 'I am dreaming. It cannot be happening. We are both bewitched.'
Very gently he prised her away and studied her face, the two bright lines of tears on her cheeks.
Then, still holding her, he kissed each cheek, tasting the salt, feeling his elation, the swift, impossible happiness.
He said, 'Do not speak. Try to sleep now.' He stood back, her hands still in his. 'It is not a dream, and I mean what I said.'
His mind rushed on. 'You can come aft for breakfast later on. I shall send Ozzard.'
He was speaking quickly, and he knew it was to prevent her from stopping it here and now.
He reached the door but her arms were still outstretched as if she was holding on to him.
Outside the little cabin there were two sentries and a marine corporal who was relieving the guard, hissing out his orders in a fierce whisper.
Keen nodded to them and said, 'Good morning, Corporal Wenmouth, I think we have ridden out the storm, eh?'
He strode aft and did not see the astonishment on their faces.
Keen entered the stern cabin and stared around at the shadows and at the tossing water beyond the windows.
He was tingling, almost helpless with an excitement he had never known before. He threw his hat on to the bench seat and said aloud, 'I love you, Zenoria.'
With a start he realized that Ozzard was watching him from the other screen door, his paws folded over his apron.
Ozzard asked politely, 'Breakfast, sir?'
Keen smiled. 'Not yet. I am expecting, er, company for that in an hour or so.'
'I see, sir.' Ozzard made to leave. 'Oh, I see, sir!' Others might be less pleased, but Keen did not care.
'Is everything satisfactory, Miss?' Ozzard hovered by the table, seizing a dish as it slid dangerously towards the edge.
She turned and looked up at him.
'It was lovely.'
From across the table Keen watched her profile as she spoke with Ozzard. She was beautiful, with her hair loose now across her shoulders; even the midshipman's shirt could not disguise it.
She turned and saw him watching her. 'What is it?'
He smiled. 'You. I could admire you all day and find something new every minute.'
She looked at her empty plate. 'That is nonsense, sir, and you know it!' But she looked flushed. Perhaps even pleased.
Then she said quickly, 'Tell me about your Sir Richard. Have you known him long?'
Keen listened to her voice. So alien here in a man's world. Yet so right.
'I have served under him several times. I was with him when he nearly died of fever.'
She studied his features as if to remember them. 'Was that when you lost your love?'
He stared at her. 'Yes. I did not say so-'
'It was written on your face.' She nodded to Ozzard as he removed the plate, then said, 'War, fighting, you have seen so much. Why must you do it?'
Keen glanced round the cabin. 'It's what I am. I have been at sea since I was a boy. It is what I am trained to do.'
'And do you never miss your home?' Her eyes were misty again but she seemed quite controlled.
'Sometimes. When I am on land I want to get back to my ship. At sea I think of fields and cattle. My brothers both farm in Hampshire. Sometimes I envy them.' He hesitated; he had never spoken like this to anyone.
She said, 'Now I can tell you not to be afraid. Your words are safe with me.'
Overhead, feet slapped across the wet planking, and near the skylight a man laughed, another snapped a reprimand.
She said, 'You love these men, don't you? Where you lead, they will follow.'
He reached across the table, the one where he had sat with the other captains. 'Give me your hand.'
She offered it; they could barely reach one another.
He said, 'One day we will walk ashore together. Somewhere, somehow, but we shall.'
She pushed some hair from her eyes and laughed, but her eyes were sad.
'Like this? I would be some companion for one of the King's officers.' She squeezed his hand and whispered. 'The King's finest officer.'
Keen said, 'I boarded a Genoese trader the other day.'
She looked surprised at his change of subject.
Keen added, 'I bought a gown for you. I will have my servant bring it to you.' He felt unsure and clumsy. 'You may not like it, or it might not fit, but-'
She said softly, 'You are a sweet man, Captain. Even to think of it when you have all this to do. And I will like it.'
Keen ended lamely, 'I have two sisters, you see-' He broke off, confused as the sentry beyond the screen doors shouted.
'Surgeon, sir!'
Keen released her hand. It felt like being cast adrift. Guilty.
He called, 'Enter!' Then said, 'I do not wish this to end-'
Tuson entered and eyed them impassively. His hands looked red, as if he had been scrubbing them.
'Some breakfast?' Keen waved him to a chair.
The surgeon gave a wry smile. 'No, sir. But I'd relish some strong coffee.'
He looked at the girl. 'How are you today?'
She dropped her eyes. 'I am well, sir.'
Tuson took a cup from Ozzard. 'More than can be said for your companion, young Millie.'
Millie was the Jamaican maidservant. She seemed to have no other name.
Tuson added, 'I think she'd risk fever on the Rock rather than go through another storm like last night.'
Keen looked up at the skylight as the masthead lookout shouted to the deck.
Tuson said, 'Sounds like another ship.' But he was watching the girl, her small hands gripped into fists, the quick movements of her breasts. Keen must have said something. She looked different.
She said to Keen, 'Is it friend or foe?'
Keen restrained himself from getting up and opening the skylight. They would come to him when he was needed. Another lesson Bolitho had taught him well.
He replied, 'Both of our ships were sighted an hour ago.' He watched her mouth. 'While you were asleep.'
She held his gaze. 'I did not go back to sleep.'
Tuson pricked up his ears, but masked his curiosity.
The sentry called, 'First lieutenant, sir!'
Paget entered, his coat black with spray. 'The masthead has sighted a sail to the sou'-west.' His eyes stayed firmly away from the girl at the table. This made his interest all the more obvious.
Keen said, 'South-west?' Without looking at the chart he could picture the other vessels. Icarus was almost three miles abeam, and Rapid far ahead, little more than a shadow against the murky horizon.
