For My Country’s Freedom

'I will kill anyone who…'

She knelt beside him, tracing each scar on his body, even the deep wound in his forehead.

She kissed him, not with tenderness, but with a fierce abandon he had rarely experienced. Again he tried to embrace her, but she denied him. 'I am here to torment you, Richard. You are mine, completely, for this night!'

Bolitho felt her fingers touch and then grip him, and all the while she was kissing him, her tongue exploring his body as he had so often explored hers.

She broke away and he felt her breasts move over his skin, prolonging every sensation.

Then all at once she was above him, her legs straddling him while she gazed into his face. 'I have teased you enough. I shall give you your reward.' He moved to possess her, but she pretended to resist, her nakedness framed against the moonlight, until with a cry she felt him enter her.

As dawn laid its first brush-strokes across the sky they still slept entwined on the bed. The wine stood nearby, untouched, and the owl was long silent. She opened her eyes and turned to study his profile, youthful now in sleep.

She ran her fingers over his body, not wishing to wake him, not wanting to stop. She touched herself and smiled secretly. Whore, lover, mistress. I am all of these things if you desire me.

She caressed him again and waited, her heart beating, for him to respond.

It was as if she had spoken her thoughts aloud. The next instant he was holding her down like a captive.

'You are shameless, Kate!' Then he kissed her passionately, stifling her gasp as he took her without restraint.

Down in the yard Ferguson looked up at the opened windows. The curtains were fluttering out over the sills, blown by some inshore breeze.

So many years since the press-gang had taken him; he thought of it even now. Especially when the press still trod the streets looking for men. He thought, too, of the Battle of the Saintes where he had lost his arm, and Bolitho’s coxswain had been killed trying to protect his captain’s back. Somehow, since then, the little crew had grown around them. Allday also a pressed man, had become Bolitho’s coxswain, and he too would soon be off to sea again.

He heard Lady Catherine’s quick laugh. Or were they tears? It troubled him greatly. More than he could remember.

John Allday glanced around the parlour of the Old Hyperion and said, 'So Indomitable anchors tomorrow.'

Lieutenant George Avery watched him thoughtfully. This was a different Allday from the one he had seen in the smoke of battle, or holding Sir Richard Bolitho in his arms when he had been struck down by splinters. Not even the same big gentle man he had watched going to his wedding, here in Fallowfield on the Helford River.

He was obviously still uneasy about his new existence, and Avery could sympathise with him. It was strangely peaceful. He could hear Allday’s wife Unis speaking with some ploughman in the adjoining room, and the thump of her brother John’s wooden leg as he put up another cask of beer.

A friendly place, and he was glad he had stayed here after hearing about Ethel’s death. He had slept and eaten better than he could remember, and Unis had been very kind to him.

He said, 'So the Coastguard say.' Again he watched the conflicting emotions in Allday’s weathered face. Needing to go. Wanting to stay. He was not even concerned about sitting at the

same table as an officer any more. Any more than I am. It was Bolitho’s doing, his example. My little crew. Allday put out a lighted taper and laid his pipe aside, trying to explain it.

'It’s all so different, y’see, sir? People talk about their farms and the sales of stock an’ grain.' He shook his shaggy head. 'I thought I’d get used to it. Resign meself to the land.' He stared hard at the perfect model he had given Unis of the old Hyperion, in which her first husband had been killed. 'But not yet, see?'

Avery heard the pony and trap being brought into the yard, ready to take him to Falmouth where he might be needed at any time now. He thought of Tyacke’s outburst, and wondered how he would behave when next they met.

Allday was saying, 'Then we get all the old Jacks in here, too. Not a whole man amongst ’em. But the way they talks you’d think every captain was a bloody saint, and each day afloat was a pleasure trip!' Then he grinned. 'Not what they really thought, I’ll wager!'

Unis entered the parlour, and exclaimed, 'No, don’t get up, Mr Avery!'

Avery remained standing. She was a pretty little woman, natural and uncomplicated like the countryside, the wild flowers and the bees. She had probably never had an officer stand up for her before in her life. Or anyone else, for that matter.

He said, 'I must be leaving, Mrs Allday.' Even that sounded strange, he thought. He saw their quick exchange of glances. The big, shambling sailor and the wife he had never expected to find. The look told it all. Sudden anxiety, courage too, and full knowledge of what it would mean.

She said, 'You go with Mr Avery, John. Give my best wishes to Lady Catherine.' She looked level-eyed at Avery. 'A beautiful lady, that one. She’s been good to me.'

Allday said hesitantly, 'Well, if you don’t need me, Unis-'

She folded her arms and pretended to glare at him. 'You know

you’re anxious to see Sir Richard, so be off with you. You just come back to me tonight.' Then she kissed him, standing on tiptoe to reach his face. 'Like a bear with a sore head, you are, John Allday!'

Avery said impulsively, 'I’ve been so happy here.' He spoke with such sincerity that she wiped her eyes surreptitiously with her fingers.

She said, 'You’ll always be welcome. Until you get settled down, like.'

'Yes. Thank you, Mrs Allday.'

He saw her hand on his sleeve and heard her say, 'You don’t say much, and I’ve no right to pry, but you’ve carried a deal of worry these past years, I can tell.' She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. 'And sad though it is, it isn’t the loss of your sister I’m speaking of!'

He took the work-worn hand and kissed it. It smelt of fruit and flour.

She stood beside her brother and watched Allday hoist the lieutenant’s chests into the trap.

As the pony clattered across the yard, out of the inn’s shadow and into the bright April sunlight, she said wretchedly, 'Oh, John, why must it be?'

Her brother, also called John, wondered if she were speaking to him.

He said quietly, 'You told him yet?'

She shook her head. 'It wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be right.' She laid her hand across her apron. 'He’ll have enough to worry about, fighting them Yankees. I won’t have him fretting over me at the same time.' She smiled. 'Sides, I don’t know for sure, do I? Bit late in life to have a babe of my own.'

Her brother put his arm around her. 'You’ll be brave, lass.'

Unis shaded her eyes, but the trap had vanished beyond the hedgerow where some swifts were performing like darts.

She said suddenly, 'My God, John, I’ll miss him so.'

He saw her sudden determination and was proud of her.

'But I’ll not let on, or make a big show of it.' She thought of the grave-faced lieutenant with the tawny eyes. Allday had told her that Avery had read her letters for him. She had been deeply touched, especially now that she knew the lieutenant better. There was a woman behind his sadness; she was certain of it. Perhaps when he read her letters to Allday he was pretending they had been written to him.

Someone called from the inn and she tidied her hair before going to serve him.

'I’ll go, lass. You stay an’ dream a while.'

She smiled. It was like the sun breaking through cloud. 'No, I’ll deal with him! You chop some wood.' She glanced again at the empty road. 'It’ll blow cold off the river tonight.'

Then she squared her shoulders and marched through the door.

The man uppermost in her thoughts sat in the back of the trap, one leg swinging above the narrow road while he watched the passing countryside. He had known leaving would be hard. Some dogs were rounding up sheep in