Tenerife where Spanish men-of-war might be resting until they knew what their feared ally might intend.
A longboat pulled beneath the stern and turned hastily towards the inner harbour. He saw discarded leg-irons in the sternsheets, and some marines, talking and laughing now that they had got rid of the admiral's unwanted prisoners.
As an example to others. It made Bolitho think of Herrick's court martial. Where was he now? Had he already left for the West Indies, without even a word? Bolitho often thought of Captain Gossage's incredible change of evidence and attitude. His was the evidence which could have damned Herrick. But he was also the most important witness, almost the only one, who as flag captain on that terrible day would have known the true state of affairs. But why? The question was still ringing in his mind when Golden Plover's windlass finally hauled anchor, and her bowsprit swung around to point at the open strait with the great ocean shining beyond.
When most of the vessel was in darkness and the middle watch had taken over the deck, they made love as she had promised him. They took and received one another with deliberate slowness, as if each knew there might be no other time when they could forget the need for vigilance.
7. CONSCIENCE
THE TWO RIDERS came to a halt by a low wall and once again faced the sea which reached away from the foot of the cliffs. They could have been brother and sister. They might have been lovers. The sun blazed down on them from a cloudless sky and the air was filled with the sound of insects, and the ever-present gulls on the ledges far below them.
Adam Bolitho climbed down from his horse and said, 'It's not safe to ride any further.' He held up his hands and slipped them around her small waist to assist her to dismount.
A girl with misty brown eyes, her hair loose in the warm inshore wind, her companion without any sort of uniform, wearing only a shirt and seagoing white breeches tucked into his boots.
'Here, Zenoria, take my hand.' He felt hers in his grasp and tightened his grip without realising it. Together they scrambled and slithered down the wind-ruffled grass until they reached a long flat rock, from which they could look directly down to a small cove. The sound of the sea seemed to embrace them as it hissed through the scattered fragments of fallen cliff to sigh against the small crescent of sand.
They sat on the warm stone side by side. He said, 'It is good to be back.'
'Can you tell me what happened? You did not leave me much time to get ready!' She held her hair from her face and studied him: the young man who resembled his uncle so much it was uncanny.
Adam pulled a long strand of grass through his teeth. It tasted of salt. 'We were chasing a schooner off Lundy Island. The weather was brisk.' He smiled at some memory, so that he looked like a young boy again. 'Maybe I was too eager. Anyway we sprung the fore-topmast and I decided to come to Falmouth for repair. It is better than languishing for weeks in some Royal dockyard, in line behind all the senior captains and the admiral's favourites!'
She looked at his dark profile, the Bolitho hair and cheekbones. As the spring had given way to summer she had hoped he might call on her, as he had twice before. They rode and walked; they talked, but rarely about one another.
'May I ask you something?'
He rolled on his hip, his face propped in his hand. 'You can ask me anything.'
'How old are you, Adam?'
He looked serious. 'Twenty-eight.' He could not keep up the pretence. 'As of today!'
'Oh, Adam, why did you not say?' She leaned over and kissed his cheek very lightly. 'For your birthday.' She put her head on one side. 'You don't look very much like a captain.'
He reached out and took her hand in his. 'And you don't look very much like someone who's married.'
He released her as she stood up and walked nearer to the edge.
'If I have offended you, I can only beg forgiveness.'
She turned, her back to the sea. 'You do not offend me, Adam, you of all people. But I am married as you say-it is as well to be reminded.'
She sat down again, and wrapped her arms around her legs and her long riding skirt.
'Tell me about your father. He was a sailor too?'
He nodded, his eyes very distant. 'Sometimes I think I am very like him, as he must have been. Too easily hurt, too quick to consider consequences. My father was a gambler… much of the estate was sold to pay his debts. He fought on the other side during the American Revolution, but he did not die as everyone thought. He lived long enough to learn he had a son, and to save my life. One day I shall tell you the whole story, Zenoria. But not now… not today. My heart is too full.'
He stared out to sea and asked abruptly, 'Are you truly happy with Captain Keen? This in return for asking me a question, eh?'
She said gravely, 'He has done everything for me. He loves me so much it frightens me. Perhaps I am different from other women… at times I begin to believe that is so. And I am quietly going mad because of it. I have tried so hard to understand…' She broke off as he took her hand again, very gently this time, and covered it with his like someone holding an injured bird.
'He is older than you, Zenoria. His life has always been the navy, as mine will be, if I live long enough.' He watched her hand in his, so brown in the sunlight, and was not aware of the sudden anguish in her dark eyes. 'But he will return, and if I am right, he will hoist his own flag as an admiral.' He squeezed her fingers and smiled sadly. 'It will be another change for you. The admiral's lady. And there is no captain who deserves it more. I learned so much from him, but…'
She watched him steadily. 'But-I have come between you both?'
'I will not lie, not to you, Zenoria. I cannot bear to see you together.'
She took her hand away very carefully. 'You had better stop, Adam. You know how much I enjoy your company. Anything more is a delusion.' She watched her words bring more emotions to his face. 'It has to be. If anyone discovered…'
He said, 'I have told nobody. I may be a fool, but I am an honourable fool.'
He stood up and helped her to her feet. 'Now you will dread the next time Anemone drops her anchor in Carrick Road.'
For a long moment they stood facing each other, their fingertips still touching.
'Just promise me something, Zenoria.'
'If I can.'
He held her hands more tightly and said, 'If you need me, for any reason at all, please tell me. When I am able I shall come to you, and God help any man who ever speaks ill of you!'
As they mounted the grassy slope and climbed through the old wall, so that the sounds of the sea amongst the rocks below became muffled and then lost, she saw his sword hanging from his saddle.
'You must never fight on my behalf, Adam. If anything happened to you because of me, I don't know what I would do.'
'Thank you. For saying that and so much more.'
She twisted round in his arms when he made to lift her to the stirrup. 'There can be no more!' Her eyes widened with sudden alarm as he tightened his hold around her. 'Please Adam, don't hurt me!'
He looked into her face, understanding, and suddenly full of pity. For them both.
'I would never hurt you.' He put his mouth to hers. 'For my birthday, if for no other reason.'
He felt her lips part, the sudden beat of her heart against his body, and the pain of his need for this strange girl was unbearable. Then he released her very carefully, expecting her to strike him.
Instead she said quietly, 'You must not do that again.' When she lifted her head her eyes were wet with tears. 'I shall never forget.'
She allowed him to raise her to the stirrup and watched as he walked back to the wall, still overcome with disbelief at what she had just permitted.
He stooped and picked several sprays of wild roses from where they tumbled over the wall, and wrapped them
