Honour This Day

'I am about to greet the Commodore, Sir Richard. May I signal your captains to repair on board tomorrow forenoon?'

'Yes.' It was all so empty, so coldly formal. Like a great wall between them.

Bolitho tried again. 'I did hear your wife was expecting a child, Captain Haven.' He recalled how tense Haven had been since he had received his letters from the courier brig. Like a man in a trance; he had even allowed Parris to manage the ship's affairs for him.

Haven's eyes narrowed. 'From whom, Sir Richard, may I ask?'

Bolitho sighed. 'Does it matter?'

Haven looked away. 'A baby boy.'

Bolitho saw his fingers clench around his cocked hat. Haven was driving himself mad.

'I congratulate you. It must have been on your mind a great deal.'

Haven swallowed hard. 'Yes, er, thank you, Sir Richard -'

Mercifully, shouted orders floated from the quarterdeck and Haven almost fled from the cabin to meet Commodore Glassport as he came aboard.

Bolitho stood up as Ozzard entered with his dress coat. Was it really Parris's child, he wondered? How would they settle it?

He looked down at Ozzard. 'Did I thank you for taking good care of our guest while she was amongst us?'

Ozzard brushed a speck of dust from the coat. He had mended Catherine's torn gown. There seemed no end to his skills.

The little man gave a shy smile. 'You did, Sir Richard. It was a pleasure.' He reached into a drawer and pulled out the fan she had brought with her from the sinking schooner.

'She left this.' He flinched under Bolitho's stare. 'I -1 cleaned it up. There was some blood on it, y'see.'

''Left it?' Bolitho turned the fan over in his hands, remembering it, seeing her expression above it. He turned aside from a lantern as his eye misted over very slightly. He repeated, 'Left it?'

Ozzard watched him anxiously. 'All the rush. I expect she forgot.'

Bolitho gripped the fan tightly. No, she had not forgotten it.

Feet tramped towards the door and then Commodore Glassport, followed by the flag captain and Jenour, entered the cabin. Glassport's features were bright scarlet, as if he had been running uphill.

Bolitho said, 'Be seated. Some claret perhaps?'

Glassport seemed to revive at the word. 'I'd relish a glass, Sir Richard. Dammee, so much excitement, I think I should have retired long since!'

Ozzard filled their glasses and Bolitho said, 'To victory.'

Glassport stuck out his thick legs and licked his lips.

'A very fair claret, Sir Richard.'

Haven remarked, There are some letters, Sir Richard; they came in the last packet ship.' He watched as Jenour brought a small bundle and laid it on the table by Bolitho's elbow.

Bolitho said, 'See to the glasses, Ozzard.' Then, 'If you will excuse me, gentlemen.'

He slit open one letter. He recognised Belinda's handwriting immediately.

His glance moved rapidly across the letter, so that he had to stop and begin again.

My dear husband. It was as if the letter was for someone else. Belinda wrote briefly of her latest visit to London, and that she was now staying in a house which she had leased to await his approval. Elizabeth had had a cold, but was now well and had taken to the nurse whom Belinda had hired. The rest of the letter seemed to be about Nelson, and how the whole country was depending on him as he stood between the French and England.

Jenour asked quietly, 'Not bad news, Sir Richard?'

Bolitho tucked the letter into his coat. 'Really, Stephen, I wouldn't know.'

There had been nothing about Falmouth and people there he had known all his life. No concern, not even anger or remorse at the way they had parted.

Glassport said heavily, 'It is a mite quieter here now that the King's Inspector General is departed.' He gave a deep chuckle. 'I would not wish to get on the wrong side of that one.'

Haven said primly, 'His is another world. It is certainly not mine.'

Bolitho said, 'I shall see my captains tomorrow -' He looked at Glassport. 'By how much was the Indiaman delayed?'

Glassport peered at him, his mind already blurred by several large glasses of claret.

'When the gale eased, Sir Richard.'

Bolitho stood up without realising it. He must have misheard. 'Without waiting for Lady Somervell? By what vessel did she take passage after she arrived in the frigate?' Surely even Somervell, so eager to present the treasure to His Majesty in person, would have waited to be assured of Catherine's safety?

Glassport sensed his sudden anxiety and said, 'She did not leave, Sir Richard. I am still awaiting her instructions.' He seemed confused. 'Lady Somervell is at the house.'

Bolitho sat down again, then glanced across at the fan which lay on the wine cabinet.

He said, 'Once again, please excuse me, gentlemen. I will speak with you tomorrow.'

Later, as he listened to the trill of calls and the thud of Glassport's launch alongside, he walked to the stern windows and stared at the land. Pinpricks of light from the harbour and the houses behind it. A slow, glassy swell which tilted Hyperion's heavy bulk just enough to make the rigging and blocks stir uneasily. A few pale stars. Bolitho took time to count them, to contain the sudden realisation which moments earlier had been disbelief.

Would you risk everything? The voice seemed to speak out loud.

Jenour re-entered silently and Bolitho saw his reflection in the thick glass beside him.

Bolitho said, 'Fetch Allday, if you would, Stephen, and call away my barge. I am going ashore directly.'

Jenour hesitated, unwilling to pit his beliefs against Bolitho's sudden determination.

Jenour had watched him when Glassport had blurted out about the woman Phaedra had snatched from the sea and the nearness of brutal rape and death. It had been like seeing a light rekindled. A cloud passing away.

He said, 'May I speak, Sir Richard?'

'Have I ever prevented you from doing so, Stephen?' He half turned, feeling the young lieutenant's uncertainty and discomfort. 'Is it about my leaving the ship?'

Jenour replied huskily, 'There is not a man under the flag who would not die for you, Sir Richard.'

Bolitho said, 'I doubt that.' He immediately sensed Jenour's dismay and added, 'Please continue.'

Jenour said, 'You intend to visit the lady, Sir Richard.' He fell silent, expecting an instant rebuff. When Bolitho said nothing he continued, 'By tomorrow the whole squadron will know. This rime next month, all England will hear of it.' He looked down and said, 'I -1 am sorry to speak out in this fashion. I have no right. It is just that I care very much.'

Bolitho took his arm and shook it gently. 'It took courage to speak as you did. An old enemy, John Paul Jones, was quoted as saying that 'he who will not risk cannot win'. Whatever his other faults may have been, a lack of courage was not one of them.' He smiled gravely. 'I know the risk, Stephen. Now fetch Allday.'

On the other side of the pantry door Ozzard withdrew his ear from the shutter and nodded very slowly.

He was suddenly grateful he had discovered the fan.

Bolitho barely noticed anything as he strode through the shadows to leave the harbour behind him. Only once he paused to regain his breath, and to try and test his feelings and the depth of his actions. He watched the anchored ships, their open gun-ports glittering across the even swell, the heavier, darker shape of the captured Ciudad de Sevilla. What would become of her? Would she be commandeered or sold to some wealthy merchant company, or even offered in trade to the Spaniards in an attempt to recover Consort? The latter was unlikely. The Dons would be humiliated enough at losing the treasure-ship and having another destroyed under their own fortress without adding to it.

When he arrived at the white walls of the house he paused again, conscious of his heart against his ribs, of the realisation that he had no plan in mind. Perhaps she would not even see him?

He walked up the carriage-drive and entered the main door, which was open to tempt any sea-breeze into the