once more at sea with his men and his ships, a target for every enemy sharpshooter as poor Nelson had been?
She shook her head, as if he had just spoken to her. There was the long passage to the Cape and back. It might be uncomfortable, but she would enjoy every second they could still be together.
When Richard returned this evening or later perhaps, whatever the outcome, she would make him forget. She must. Then she turned the ring again to the shaft of sun which had at last penetrated the low clouds over the Solent, and watched the play of light across its diamonds and rubies. She could recall the exact moment, when all the others had left the church for the wedding celebrations. Richard taking her hand. In the eyes of God we are married, dearest Kate. It was something she would never forget.
There was a rap at the door and one of the resident servants entered the room and gave a clumsy curtsy.
'There be a gennelman downstairs, m'lady. He begs an audience with you.'
Catherine waited and then replied, 'I can sometimes read your thoughts, my girl, but I need a little help now.'
The girl gave her a cow-like stare, and eventually produced a small envelope from an apron pocket.
Catherine smiled. The Admiralty house did not apparently run to a silver tray for such purposes.
She tore it open and walked to the window again. It was not a note, there was only an engraved card inside. She looked at it for several seconds until a face seemed to form there. Sillitoe. Sir Paul Sillitoe, whom she had met at Admiral Godschale's reception by the river.
She was still uncertain whether he was a friend or another potential danger to Richard. But he had shown her kindness in his strange, withdrawn manner.
'I shall come down.'
The hall was empty, and the door still partly ajar; she saw a smart phaeton with a pair of matching greys outside in the road. Sillitoe was standing in the small drawing-room, feet apart, hands behind him.
As she appeared he took her proffered hand and touched it with his lips.
'Lady Catherine, you honour me too much, when I have given you so little warning of my arrival.' He waited until she had seated herself and said, 'I have urgent business in London, but I thought I must see you before you depart for the Cape of Good Hope.' He grimaced. 'An unfortunate name, I think.'
'Is anything wrong, Sir Paul? Are we not to go after all?'
'Wrong?' He was watching her now, his hooded eyes full of curiosity. 'Why should there be?' He walked past her and hesitated by the chair; and for an instant she expected him to touch her, place a hand on her shoulder, and she could feel her body stiffen in readiness.
'I was merely thinking that you might find the prospect of a longish voyage, hemmed in by foul-mouthed sailors, unpleasant. It is not what I would choose for you.'
'I am used to ships.' She glanced at him, her eyes flashing. 'Sailors too.'
'It was merely a thought, one which disturbed me more than I would admit to anyone else. I experienced a moment of delusion, wherein I imagined your staying behind, with me to guide you around the town, and offer you-if only temporarily-my companionship.'
'Is that what you really came to tell me?' She was astonished at the calmness in her voice, and equally by the man's cool impudence and declaration. 'For if so it is better that you go at once. Sir Richard has enough on his mind without suffering the added burden of unfaithfulness. I should say, how dare you, Sir Paul, but then I already know how men like you dare.'
'Ah, yes, Sir Richard.' He looked away. 'How I envy him-'
He seemed to be searching for words without losing her attention and tolerance. 'I wanted to know, Lady Catherine-I believe he calls you Kate?'
'Yes-and only he does.'
Sillitoe sighed. 'As I was saying before I was again distracted by your lovely presence-I will always be available as a friend, more if you should ever need that. That is what I came to say.' He moved towards her as she made to rise from the chair. 'No, please stay, Lady Catherine. I must lose some miles before dark.' He took her hand, forcefully as she did not offer it, and held it, his eyes locked with hers. 'I knew your late husband, the Viscount Somervell. He was a fool. He deserved what he got.' Then he kissed her hand and released it. 'Bon voyage, Lady Catherine.' He swept his hat from a chair. 'Think of me sometimes.'
It was growing dark in the street outside, and long after the phaeton had clattered away, Catherine still sat in the damp, empty room looking at the door.
Like the words she had spoken to Richard this morning. They strike at you from every side. Sillitoe's visit had put another edge to them.
She stood up, startled, as a dull bang echoed across the harbour. They did fire a gun, after all.
She stared at herself in a mirror with something like defiance. Richard would have to be told about the visit. There were others who would be only too willing. But not all of it. Another duel, as Belinda had once flung in her face? She shook her head very slowly and saw the confidence returning to her reflection.
Only death would ever come between them.
Admiral Sir James Hamett-Parker settled himself once more in his chair and glanced briefly at his companions. He was still savouring the taste of fine cheese and the liberal glasses of port, finer than any he had lately enjoyed. It seemed to sustain him in this time of confrontation with his final duty, unpleasant though it would be. His mind lingered on it. But necessary.
He realised that the Judge Advocate was watching him patiently. The stage was set. He glanced at the accused, but the stocky rearadmiral's face gave nothing away.
The men from the London and Portsmouth newspapers were present; the marine officer was behind Herrick's chair, as if he had never moved throughout the whole trial.
He said, 'Mr Cotgrave, I would like to be assured that Captain Hector Gossage is indeed fit to give his evidence.'
Cotgrave regarded him impassively. 'The surgeon is here, Sir James.'
A surgeon from Haslar Hospital bobbed to the table. 'I have presently examined Captain Gossage and am confident there has been an improvement, Sir James. He begs me to apologise for his behaviour before this Court, and I agree that he had been given too much to reduce his pain, and was not himself.'
Hamett-Parker gave a rare smile. It reminded Bolitho, who was watching every move with growing despair, of a fox about to pounce on a rabbit.
Hamett-Parker nodded. 'Then we shall proceed.'
Captain Gossage walked from the rear of the visitors and barely needed the support of each row of chairs as he passed. He did not even seem to notice the curious stares which came from every side. Pity, understanding from his fellow captains, impatience too from those eager to see it finished one way or the other.
He bowed slightly to the officers of the Court and sat down gingerly in the same chair as before.
Bolitho watched as he shook his head to the offer of help from a hospital orderly.
The Judge Advocate asked, 'Are you comfortable, Captain Gossage?'
Gossage moved painfully to hold the stump of his severed arm clear of the chair. 'I am, sir.' Then he faced the admiral. 'I can only ask the Court's pardon for yesterday's behaviour, Sir James. I barely knew what I was doing.'
The vice-admiral named Nevill nodded. 'Only time can mend what you have suffered.' Some of the other officers beside him murmured in agreement.
Hamett-Parker said, 'Then we will continue?'
Bolitho heard the sharpness in his tone. A man who obviously hated anyone else to offer an opinion.
A messenger came up the aisle between the chairs and placed some books on a table within Gossage's reach.
He said, 'My ship's log and signal book, Sir James. Each portion of the engagement is recorded until we came to close-action.' His face was like stone. 'When there was nobody left on the quarterdeck to attend to it. Even the admiral's flag lieutenant had fallen by then.' He pouted, as Bolitho had seen him do in the past. 'And I had been carried below to the orlop.'
Bolitho saw his remaining hand clutch his chair, reliving the nightmare, the agony, the sounds of hell itself.
Cotgrave said gently, 'In your own words, Captain Gossage. The details of the log are already recorded.'
Gossage leaned back and closed his eyes. 'I am able, thank you.' There was a bluntness in his tone. For these moments anyway, he was no longer a cripple; he was the flag captain again.
