Honour This Day

burned 'er clothes. They was alive.' She opened her red fist. 'I found these sewn in the 'em.'

They were the earrings he had given her. The only other time they had been in London together.

Bolitho felt a lump in his throat. 'Thank you, Mrs Robbins.'

Surprisingly, her severe features softened.

'It's nuffink, Sir Richard. Young Lord Oliver 'as told me a few yarns about when you saved 'is rump for 'im!' She went off chuckling to herself.

Allday and Adam entered and Bolitho said, 'You heard all that?'

Allday nodded. 'Best to leave her. Old Ma Robbins'll call all hands if anything happens in the night.'

Bolitho sat down and stretched his legs. He had not eaten a crumb since breakfast but he could not face it now.

It had been a close thing, he thought. But perhaps the battle had not even begun.

Catherine stood by a tall window and looked down at the street. The sun was shining brightly, although this side of the street was still in shadow. A few people strolled up and down, and very faintly could be heard the voice of a flower-girl calling her wares.

She said quietly, This cannot last.'

Bolitho sat in a chair, his legs crossed, and watched her, still scarcely able to believe it had ever happened, that she was the same woman he had snatched from squalor and humiliation. Or that he was the man who had risked everything, including a court-martial, by threatening the governor of the Waites jail.

He replied, 'We can't stay here. I want to be alone with you. To hold you again, to tell you things.'

She turned her head so that her face too was in shadow. 'You are still worried, Richard. You have no need to be, where my love for you is concerned. It never left me, so how can we lose it now?' She walked slowly around his chair and put her hands on his shoulders. She was dressed in a plain green robe, which the redoubtable Mrs Robbins had bought for her the previous day.

Bolitho said, 'You are protected now. Anything you need, all that I can give, it is yours.' He hurried on as her fingers tightened their grip on his shoulders, glad that she could not see his face. 'It may take months longer even to retrieve what he has stolen from you. You gave him everything, and saved him.'

She said, 'In return he offered me security, a place in society where I could live as I pleased. Foolish? Perhaps I was. But it was a bargain between us. There was no love.' She laid her head against his and added quietly, 'I have done things I am too often ashamed of. But I have never sold my body to another.'

He reached up and gripped her hand. 'That, I know.'

A carriage clattered past, the wheels loud on the cobbles. At night, this household, like others nearby, had servants to spread straw on the road to deaden the sound. London never seemed to sleep. In the past few days Bolitho had lain awake, thinking of Catherine, the code of the house which kept them apart like shy suitors.

She said, 'I want to be somewhere I can hear about you, what you are doing. There will be more danger. In my own way I shall share it with you.'

Bolitho stood up and faced her. 'I will likely receive orders to return to the squadron very soon. Now that I have declared myself, they will probably want rid of me from London as soon as possible.' He smiled and put his hands on her waist, feeling her supple body beneath the robe, their need for each other. There was colour in her cheeks now, and her hair, hanging loose down her back, had recovered its shine.

She saw his eyes and said, 'Mrs Robbins has taken good care of me.'

Bolitho said, 'There is my house in Falmouth.' Instantly he saw the reluctance, the unspoken protest, and added, 'I know, my lovely Catherine. You will wait until -'

She nodded. 'Until you carry me there as your kept woman!' She tried to laugh but added huskily, 'For that is what they will say.'

They stood holding hands and facing each other for a full minute.

Then she said, 'And I'm not lovely. Only in your eyes, dearest of men.'

He said, 'I want you.' They walked to the window and Bolitho realised that he had not left the house since that night. 'If I cannot marry you -'

She put her fingers on his mouth. 'Enough of that. Do you think I care? I will be what you wish me to be. But I shall always love you, be your tiger if others try to harm you.'

A servant tapped on the door and entered with a small silver salver. On it was a sealed envelope with the familiar Admiralty crest. Bolitho took it, felt her eyes on him as he slit it open.

'I have to see Sir Owen Godschale tomorrow.'

She nodded. 'Orders then.'

'I expect so.' He caught her in his arms. 'It is inevitable.'

T know it. The thought of losing you -'

Bolitho considered her being alone. He must do something.

She said, 'I keep thinking, we have another day, one more night.' She ran her hands up to his shoulders and to his face. 'It is all I care for.'

He said, 'Before I leave -'

She touched his mouth again. 'I know what you are trying to say. And yes, dearest Richard, I want you to love me like you did in Antigua, and all that rime ago here in London. I told you once that you needed to be loved. I am the one to give it to you.'

Mrs Robbins looked in at them. 'Beg pardon, Sir Richard.' Her eyes seemed to measure the distance between them. 'But yer nephew is 'ere.' She relented slightly. 'You're lookin' fair an' bright, m'lady!'

Catherine smiled gravely. 'Please, Mrs Robbins. Do not use that title.' She looked steadily at Bolitho. 'I have no use for it now.'

Mrs Robbins, or 'Ma' as Allday called her, wandered slowly down the stairway and saw Adam tidying his unruly black hair ia front of a looking-glass.

It was a rum do, she thought. God, everyone in the kitchen was talking about it. It had been bad enough for Elsie, the upstairs maid, when her precious drummer-boy had gone off with a blackie in the West Indies. Not what you expected from the quality; although old Lord Browne had been one for the ladies before he passed on. Then she thought of Bolitho's expression when she had given him the earrings she had rescued from the filthy gown. There was a whole lot more to this than people realised.

She nodded to Adam.' 'E'll be down in a moment, sir.'

Adam smiled. It was strange, he thought. He had always loved his uncle more than any man. But until now he had never envied him.

Admiral Sir Owen Godschale received Bolitho immediately upon his arrival. Bolitho had the impression that he had cut short another interview, perhaps to get this meeting over and done with without further delay.

'I have received intelligence that the French fleet outran Lord Nelson's ships. Whether he can still call them to battle is doubtful. It seems unlikely that Villeneuve will be willing to fight until he has combined forces with the Spaniards.'

Bolitho stared at the admiral's huge map. So the French were still at sea but could not remain so for long. Nelson must have believed the enemy's intention was to attack British possessions and bases in the Caribbean. Or was it merely one great exercise in strength? The French had fine ships, but they had been sealed up in harbour by an effective blockade. Villeneuve was too experienced to make an attack up the English Channel, to pave the way for Napoleon's armies, with ships and men whose skills and strength had been sapped by inactivity.

Godschale said bluntly, 'So I want you to hoist your flag again and join forces with the Maltese squadron.'

'But I understood that Rear-Admiral Herrick was to be relieved?'

Godschale looked at his map. 'We need every ship where she can do the most good. I have sent orders today by courier-brig to Herrick's command.' He eyed him impassively. 'You know him, of course.'

'Very well.'

'So it would appear that the reception I had planned must now be postponed, Sir Richard. Until quieter times, eh?'

Their eyes met. 'Would I have been invited to attend alone, Sir Owen?' He spoke calmly but the edge was clear in his voice.

'Under the circumstances I think that would have been preferred, yes.'

Bolitho smiled. Then under those same circumstances I am glad it is postponed.'

'I resent your damned attitude, sir!'