For My Country’s Freedom

Tyacke called, 'Once we clear the Point we will set the driver, Mr Scarlett!' He had to shout above the violent din of rigging and canvas, the crack of halliards and shrouds as every inch of cordage took and held the strain.

Scarlett touched his hat. 'Aye, aye, sir!' He wiped his face and grinned. 'Someone wishes us well.'

Tyacke crossed to the nettings and stared across the choppy water. It was Larne. Out at an anchorage now; perhaps leaving this very day. But it was not that. Every yard was manned, with more seamen clinging to the ratlines to wave and cheer. Even Indomitable’s own chorus could not drown the wild cheering.

Scarlett glanced round curiously as Tyacke removed his hat,

and then waved it slowly back and forth above his head.

The uninjured side of Tyacke’s face was turned towards him, and he felt something like pity as he realised what he was seeing.

It was a last farewell.

6. Cross of St. George

Bolitho put his arm around her shoulders and said, 'This is far enough, Kate. The path is barely safe even in such clear moonlight.'

They stood side by side on the rough track from Pendennis Point and looked out across the sea. It shone like melting silver, so brightly that the stars seemed faint and insignificant by comparison.

They had walked and ridden every day since their return from London, savouring every moment, sharing every hour, not speaking of the future.

The hillsides were covered now with bluebells and brilliant, contrasting yellow gorse.

How much longer? Three days perhaps. At the most.

As if reading his thoughts, she said quietly, 'Tomorrow your Indomitable will come.'

'Aye. I hope James Tyacke is settling down to the change.'

She turned lightly and he felt her looking at him, her hair shining as she pulled out the combs and let it fall across her shoulders.

'Will we settle down, darling Richard?' She shook her head, angry with herself. 'Forgive me. It is not easy for either of us. But I shall miss you so.' She paused, unable to speak of what was uppermost in both their minds. 'There may be farewells, but we will never be parted!'

Tiny lights blinked on the water, like fallen stars, lost in the great full moon.

Bolitho said, 'Fishermen at their pots.' He tried to smile. 'Or revenue officers after another kind of catch.'

'You know what we promised one another?' She had been wearing a shawl but it had slipped down her arms, to leave her shoulders bare in the moonlight.

'Not to waste a minute, Kate. But that was then. This is now. I never want to be parted from you again. Once this matter is settled…'

She touched his mouth with her fingers, so cool in the night air. 'I am so proud of you, and you cannot even understand why. You are the only man who can do it. You have the experience and the success, and you will give heart to all those under your command. Have their lordships given you all that you wanted?'

He caressed her shoulders, their smoothness and their strength exciting him as always.

'All that they have is more likely. Apart from Indomitable and Valkyrie I shall have six other frigates, as soon as Anemone has completed her refit at Plymouth. And there are three brigs as well. Not a fleet, but a flying squadron to be reckoned with.' Thank God Larne was ordered back to the anti-slavery patrols. It would have been torture for Tyacke to see her in company day after day.

His thoughts turned to George Avery. He was not staying at the house but had gone over to the inn at Fallowfield, where All-day would be fretting about everything as sailing time drew relentlessly closer. It might help Allday to have somebody with him to whom he could talk about the ship and the destination, just as it might help the flag-lieutenant to accept that his sister was dead. That he could have done nothing to save her.

She said suddenly, 'Richard, are you troubled about your daughter?'

Bolitho caught his shoe on some loose stones and felt her arm instantly supporting him. 'There are no secrets from you, Kate.' He hesitated. 'She will be nine years old in two months’ time. But I do not know her, nor she me. Her mother has made her into a doll, not like a real child at all.'

It was always there. Guilt, a sense of responsibility. It was nothing of which she could be jealous.

He said, as though reading her thoughts, 'I love only you.'

Catherine faced him. 'I shall always remember what you gave up because of me.' She shook her head as he began to protest. 'No, hear me, Richard. Because of our love you have been abused and taken for granted, when all England should honour the bravest and the gentlest of her commanders.' She relented. 'The man who forgot to tell his lover he had been made an admiral!'

'I shall never be allowed to forget that!' He turned her towards the deeper shadows of the hillside. 'They will have a search party out looking for us. We had best get back to the house.'

She put her arm around his waist. 'Home.' One word. It was enough.

The austere stone buildings did not soften against the perfect sky. There was a light in the adjoining cottage. Ferguson, Bolitho’s steward, was still awake, doing his books or planning something to please his old friend Allday before he left.

An old dog slumbered in the yard. It was quite deaf, and was no longer much use as a guard dog. But like the crippled and injured men who worked on the estate, the harvest of the war at sea, it belonged here.

Strange not to see leaping flames in the great fireplace. Summer was almost here. Catherine tightened her grip on his arm. But they would not share it together. She glanced at the rug by the empty grate.

Where two young people, believing they had lost everything

dear to them, had found one another and had loved, and might still be damned for it.

She had sensed Richard’s unease when he had mentioned Adam’s Anemone, which was still lying at Plymouth. It was a heavy secret to carry.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw the sea beyond the windows shining in the moonlight. The enemy. She could feel the portraits watching from the stairwell. They had all left here, never to return. She thought of the painting Richard wanted done of her, and she had wondered briefly if he would also like one of his brother Hugh, but this was not the time to ask him. Her man was sailing to confront the Americans, and she sensed that in the present hostile atmosphere neither country would back down. There was too much at stake. He would not wish to be reminded of his brother’s treachery. Had Hugh known of Adam’s existence, perhaps things might have been different. But fate, having determined the course of lives, could not be unwritten.

Together they walked to the broad opened windows and listened to the silence. Once they heard an owl, and Bolitho remarked, 'The mice will have to take care tonight.'

Tomorrow the ship would come. He would be inextricably involved in its affairs, and haunted by the inevitability of their parting.

She said, 'Dear Bryan has left some wine for us!'

He took her in his arms and felt the tension in her body. 'He knows.'

'Knows what?'

'That I want you, dearest Kate. Need you.'

She let him kiss her, on the mouth, the throat, and then on her bare shoulder, watching his hands in the strange light moving over her gown until she could wait no longer.

Then she stood quite naked like a silver statue, her fine breasts uplifted, her arms stretched out to hold him away.

'Undress, Richard.' Then she lay in the moon’s path before drawing him down beside her. When he reached for her she exclaimed, 'They call me a whore, dearest of men…'