Bolitho watched the little boat speed back across the river to seek out another fare.
'I don't understand.' He looked down at his plain blue coat, bought in Falmouth from old Joshua Miller. He and his father had been making uniforms for the Bolitho family and other Falmouth seaofficers longer than anyone could recall. 'How did he know?'
She flicked open her new fan and watched him above it, her eyes shining in the glow of many lanterns. 'More people know about us than I thought! ' She tossed her head. 'What do you think, Richard? My little surprise-to take your mind off weightier matters?'
Bolitho had heard of the London pleasure gardens but had never visited any. This one at Vauxhall was the most famous of all. It certainly looked enchanted. Lantern-lit groves, wild rose hedges, and the sound of birds who enjoyed the merriment and music as much as the visitors.
Bolitho paid the entrance fee of half a crown each and allowed Catherine to guide him into the Grand Walk, a place for promenade, lined with exactly matching elms, and past little gravel walks with secret grottoes and quiet cascades and fountains.
She tightened her grip on his arm and said, 'I knew you'd like it. My London.' She gestured with the fan towards the many supper booths where splendidly dressed women and their escorts listened to the various orchestras, sipping champagne, cider or claret as the fancy took them.
She said, 'Many of the musicians are from the finest orchestras. They work here to keep their pockets filled, their bellies too, until the season returns.'
Bolitho removed his hat and carried it. The place was packed with people, the air heavy with perfume to mingle with the flowers and the distant smell of the river.
Catherine had been wearing a broad Spanish-style shawl, for it was known to be cold along the river at night. Now she let it drop to her arms, her throat and breasts shining in lanternlight or changing into provocative depths and shadows as they walked along a path.
It was like an endless panorama, where comic songs and bawdy ballads shared the same status as the work of great composers and lively dancing. There were plenty of uniforms too. Mostly red with the blue facings of the Royal regiments, and some sea-captains from the many ships moored below LondonBridge, and the twisting route which would carry them back to the sea once more.
They paused where two paths crossed, so that it was possible to hear the music of Handel from one angle, while from the opposite direction they could listen to someone singing 'Lass of Richmond Hill.' And neither seemed to detract from the other, Bolitho thought. Or perhaps it really was enchanted. On the extreme of the brightly lit gardens was 'The Dark Walk.' Catherine led him into the deep shadows where other couples stood and embraced, or merely held one another in silence.
Then she turned and lifted her face to him, pale in the darkness. 'And no, dearest of men, I never walked here with another.'
'I would not have blamed you, Kate. Or the man who would lose his heart to you as I did.'
She said, 'Kiss me. Hold me.'
Bolitho felt her arch towards him; sensed the power of their love which hurled all caution and reserve aside.
He heard her gasp as he kissed her neck and then her shoulder, and pulled her closer without even a glance as a pair of strolling lovers passed by.
He said into her skin, 'I want you, Kate.'
She pretended to push him away, but he knew her excitement matched his own.
She touched his mouth with the fan as he released her and said, 'But first we eat. I have arranged for a booth. It will be a private place.' She gave her infectious laugh, something which at times in the past Bolitho had thought never to hear again. 'As private as anything can be in VauxhallPleasureGardens! '
The time passed with an impossible speed while they sat in their little flower-bedecked booth, toying with their salads and roasted chicken, enjoying the wine and the music, but most of all each other.
She said, 'You are staring at me.' She dropped her eyes and took his hand in hers across the table. 'You make me feel so wanton-I should be ashamed.'
'You've a beautiful neck. It seems wrong to hide it, and yet…'
She watched him wondering.
'I will buy something for it. Just to adorn what is already so lovely.'
She smiled. 'Only in your eyes.' Then she squeezed his hand until it hurt. 'I am so in love with you, Richard. You just don't know.' She touched her eyes with a handkerchief. 'There, see what you've done! ' When she looked at him again they were very bright. 'Let us go and find our lecherous wherryman. I have such need of you I can scarcely wait! '
They walked back along the path towards the gates. Catherine pulled her long shawl over her bare shoulders and shivered. 'I never want the summer to end.'
Bolitho smiled, passion and excitement making him light-headed, as if he had had too much wine.
'Wait here in the shelter. I will make certain that the waterman you described so well is alongside.'
She called after him as he turned by the gates. 'Richard. I do like your hair like that. You look so… dashing.'
She watched him pass into the shadows and drew the shawl more tightly around her; then she turned as a voice said, 'All alone, my dear? That's very remiss of somebody! '
She observed him calmly. An army captain; not very old, with a lopsided grin which told of some heavy drinking.
She said, 'Be off with you. I am not alone, and even if I were-'
'Now let's not be hasty, m'dear.' He stepped closer and she saw him stagger. Then he reached out and seized the shawl. 'Such beauty should never be hidden! '
'Take your hand off my lady.' Bolitho had not even raised his voice.
Catherine said shortly, 'He is full to the gills! '
The captain stared at Bolitho and gave a mock bow. 'I did not realise; and in any case she looked like the sort of woman who might favour a poor soldier.'
Bolitho was still very calm. 'I would call you out, sir-'
The captain grinned stupidly. 'And then I would willingly accept your seconds! '
Bolitho opened his plain blue coat. 'You did not let me fin-ish. I would call you out if you were a gentleman and not a drunken lout. So we will settle it here.' The old sword simply seemed to materialise in his hand. 'And now! '
Another soldier lurched through some bushes and gaped at the small, tense scene. He was tipsy, but not too drunk to recognise the danger.
'Come away, you damned fool! ' To Bolitho he exclaimed, 'On his behalf, Sir Richard, I crave your pardon. He is not normally like this.'
Bolitho looked at the captain, his eyes hard. 'So I would hope, if only for the sake of England 's safety! '
He slid the sword into its scabbard and deliberately turned his back on the pair. 'The boat is ready and waiting, my lady.'
She took his proffered arm and felt it shaking.
'I have never seen you like that before.'
'I am sorry to behave like some hot-headed midshipman.'
She protested, 'You were wonderful.' She held up the small reticule which hung from her wrist, and added, 'But if he had tried to hurt you he would have got a ball in the buttocks to quieten him down. My little carriage pistol is quite big enough for that.'
Bolitho shook his head. 'You are full of surprises! '
By the time the wherry was halfway across the river, weaving expertly through packs of similar craft, he was calm again.
Then he said, 'It really was a night of enchantment, Kate. I shall never forget it.'
Catherine glanced at the staring waterman and then allowed the shawl to drop from her shoulders as she leaned against Bolitho and whispered, 'It is not yet over, as you will soon discover.'
The waterman left his wherry to assist them out on to the pier. In his trade he carried them all. Men with other men's wives, sailors and their doxies, young bucks on the hunt for excitement or a brawl which would end blade to
