Honour This Day

'I am sure, Adam, and thank you for that. I know not where Valentine Keen is at present, and there is no time to reach him by letter. I have days, not weeks.'

He must have displayed his anxiety, and Adam said, 'Rest easy, Uncle. You have many friends.'

They fell into step and walked into the sunshine. There were some people watching the passing carriages and one turned as the two officers appeared.

He called, 'Look, lads, 'tis 'im!' He waved a battered hat. 'God bless you, Dick! Give the Frogs another drubbin'!'

Someone gave a cheer and shouted, 'Don't you listen to them other buggers!'

Bolitho smiled, although his heart felt like breaking.

Then he said quietly, 'Yes, I do have friends after all.'

True to the promise of his one-time flag lieutenant, Bolitho was warmly received at the house in Arlington Street. The master was away in the North of England, the housekeeper explained, but she had her instructions, and conducted them to a suite of pleasant rooms on the first floor. Adam left almost at once to see friends who might be able to shed some light on Catherine's disappearance; for Bolitho was now convinced that she had vanished. He dreaded that Adam might be right, that she had gone away with Somervell for appearance's sake, to save their reputations.

On the first morning Bolitho left the house. He had an immediate clash with Allday, who protested at being left behind.

Bolitho had insisted. 'This is not the quarterdeck with some Frenchie about to board us, old friend!'

Allday had glared out at the busy street. 'The more I'm in London, the less I trust th' place!'

Bolitho had said, 'I need you here. In case someone comes. The housekeeper might turn him away otherwise.'

Or her, Allday thought darkly.

It was not a long walk to the quiet square of which Belinda had written in her letter.

He paused to look at some children who were playing in the grassy centre of the square, their nursemaids standing nearby; gossiping about their respective families, he thought.

One of the little girls might be Elizabeth. It brought him all aback to realise that she must have changed a lot since he had last seen her. She would be three soon. He saw two of the nursemaids curtsy to him, and touched his hat in reply.

Another sailor home from the sea. It seemed ironic now. How would he conduct the next moments in his life?

The house was tall and elegant, like many which had been built in His Majesty's reign. Wide steps flanked by ornate iron railings, with three stories above to match the houses on either side. A servant opened the door and stared at him for several seconds. Then she bobbed in a deep curtsy, and, stammering apologies, took his hat and showed him into a pillared hall with a blue and gilt-leafed ceiling.

'This way,.sir!'

She opened a pair of doors, and stood aside while he walked into an equally fine drawing-room. The furniture looked foreign to him, and the curtains and matching carpets were, he guessed, newly made. He thought of the rambling grey house in Falmouth. Compared with this it was like a farm.

He caught sight of himself in a tall, gilded mirror, and automatically straightened his shoulders. His face looked deeply tanned above his spotless waistcoat and breeches, but the uniform made him look like someone he did not know.

Bolitho tried to relax, to' pitch his ear to the muted sounds above him in the house. Another world.

The doors opened suddenly and she walked quickly into the room. She was dressed in dark blue which almost matched his own coat, and her hair was piled high to show her small ears and the jewellery around her neck. She looked very composed, defiant.

He said, 'I sent a note. I hope this is convenient?'

She did not take her eyes from him; she was examining him as if to seek some injury or disfigurement, or that he had changed in another way.

'I think it absurd that you should be staying in somebody else's house.'

Bolitho shrugged. 'It seemed be^r-t until -'

'Until you saw how I would behave to you, is that it?'

They faced each other, more like strangers than husband and wife.

He replied, 'I tried to explain in my letter -'

She waved him down. 'My cousin is here. He begged me to forgive your foolishness, for all our sakes. I have been much embarrassed by your reckless affair. You are a senior officer of repute, yet you behave like some foul- mouthed seaman with his doxy on the waterfront!'

Bolitho looked around the room; his heart, like his voice, was heavy.

'Some of those foul-mouthed sailors are dying at this very moment to protect houses like this.'

She smiled briefly, as if she had discovered what she had been seeking. 'Tut, Richard! Your share of prize money from the Spanish galleon will more than cover it, so do not lose the issue in hypocrisy!'

Bolitho said flatly, 'It is not an affair.'

'I see.' She moved to a window and touched a long curtain. 'Then where is this woman you seem to have lost your mind to?' She swung round, her eyes angry. 'I shall tell you! She is with her husband Viscount Somervell, who is apparently more willing to forgive and forget than I!'

'You saw him?'

She tossed her head, her fingers stroking the curtain more quickly to reveal her agitation.

'Of course. We were both very concerned. It was humiliating and degrading,'

'I regret that.'

'But not what you did?'

'That is unfair.' He watched her, amazed that his voice was calm when his whole being was in turmoil. 'But not unexpected.'

She looked past him at the room. 'This belonged to the Duke of Richmond. It is a fine house. Suitable for us. For you.'

Bolitho heard a sound and saw a small child being led past the doors. He knew it was Elizabeth despite her disguise of frothy lace and pale blue silk.

She turned just once, hanging to the hand of her nursemaid. She stared at him without recognition and then walked on.

Bolitho said, 'She knew me not.'

'What did you expect?' Then her voice softened. 'It can and must change. Given time -'

He looked at her, hiding his despair. 'Live here? Give up the sea when our very country is in peril? What is this madness, when people cannot see the danger?'

'You can still serve, Richard. Sir Owen Godschale commands the greatest respect both at Court and in Parliament.'

Bolitho rested his hands on the cool marble mantel. 'I cannot do it.'

She watched him in the mirror. 'Then at least escort me to Sir Owen's reception and dinner. I understand we shall receive notice of it this day.' She hesitated for the first time. 'So that people can see the emptiness of the gossip. She has gone, Richard. Have no doubt of that. Maybe it was an honest reaction, or perhaps she saw where her best fortune lies.' She smiled as he turned hotly towards her. 'Believe what you will. I am thinking of you now. After all, I do have the right?

Bolitho said quietly, 'I shall stay at the other house until tomorrow. I have to think.'

She nodded, her eyes very clear. 'I understand. I know your moods. Tomorrow we shall begin again. I shall forgive, while you must try to forget. Do not damage your family name because of a momentary infatuation. We parted badly, so I must carry some of the blame.'

She walked beside him to the entrance hall. At no time had they touched, let alone embraced.

She asked, 'Is everything well with you? I did hear that you had been ill.'

He took his hat from the gaping servant. 'I am well enough, thank you.'

Then he turned and walked out into the square as the door closed behind him.

How could he go to the reception and act as if nothing had happened? If he never saw Catherine again, he