For My Country’s Freedom

The man attempted to smile. It obviously did not come easily to him.

Zenoria added, 'He is a lawyer, Captain, and he is under instruction to complete the purchase of a suitable house for us here in Plymouth.'

Her poise and her self-confidence impressed and surprised him, but when she turned from the others he recognised the pain in her eyes. The girl with the moonlit eyes, Bolitho had called her. He controlled his own emotion with an effort.

A harassed-looking lieutenant hurried down the steps. I see you have introduced one another…' He shook his head. 'I am all aback today, ma’am. I should have remembered your husband is a great friend of Sir Richard Bolitho.' He turned to Adam. 'I was going to send word to your ship, Captain, inviting you to sup with the admiral. But there was no time-you see, sir.'

'I understand. I was once a flag-lieutenant myself.'

Relieved, the lieutenant led the way up the steps but hesitated

when he realised that Adam had not followed.

Adam said, 'I am not certain. I mean no offence to your admiral after what he has done for my ship…' He looked at her again. No contempt, no resentment. But there was something. 'I have no desire to intrude.'

She said quickly, 'For my part, there is no intrusion. Do come, Captain Bolitho. I hope to see Lady Catherine while I am in the West Country…' She hesitated, 'Again.'

Then they were in the large reception room, with its vast paintings of sea-battles and memorabilia in glass cases; a great house where admirals had lived for many years, which had never become a home. The port admiral, a small, energetic man with an old-fashioned queue, bounced to greet them. There were several other officers present, and a solitary scarlet-coated marine. Women too, with the uncomplaining faces of service wives.

The admiral took Zenoria’s arm and Adam heard him say, 'I hear you’re buying Boscawen House, m’dear? A fine old place- the views are breathtaking. Hunting’s good around there too.'

She replied, 'Rear-Admiral Keen’s father suggested Mr Petrie should deal with the matter.' She glanced at the solemn Petrie. 'He knows more than I about such things.'

The admiral nodded, his eyes running over her like an invisible hand. 'Quite so, m’dear. A man of the City he would know. Not something to trouble your pretty head about.'

She looked across the room until she found Adam, and her gaze seemed to say, Help me.

It was suddenly obvious to him. Like the house in Hampshire and the stifling kindness of Keen’s family, nobody had even asked her for her opinion.

The admiral was saying to the room at large, 'I’ll be hauling down my flag next year-a quieter appointment for me at the Admiralty' He gave his short barking laugh. 'I think Boscawen House would make the perfect residence for my successor, what?'

The others laughed and raised their glasses.

Adam saw her looking nervously around, imagining how it might be when Valentine Keen came home again. His father had made no secret of his resentment that Keen should prefer the hazardous life of the navy to power and success in the City Any more than he would want his grandson to follow Keen into the world of sea and ships.

Adam was surprised he had not heard some mention of this appointment. He glanced at her slight figure again. Like a little girl amongst all these people who knew and wanted no other life. Lost. Completely lost.

Suppose somebody knew or even suspected the truth? He strode to the admiral’s side, caution gone like the wind from a shot-riddled sail.

'I beg your pardon, sir, but may I show Rear-Admiral Keen’s wife the beautiful garden you have here?'

'So long as you behave yourself, m’lad! I know about young frigate captains!' His barking laugh followed them to the French windows that opened on to a wide terrace, which was decorated with large urns of plants.

As soon as it was possible to speak, Adam said, 'I am so sorry about this, Zenoria-I really did not know you were here.' She said nothing, and he continued more urgently, 'My ship sails in three days. You have nothing to fear from me. I wronged you… I will never forget. I would never have harmed you, because…'

Her eyes were misty. He dared not think there might be kindness in them for him. 'Because?' One word, so gently said.

'I have no right.'

She put her hand on his sleeve. 'We should walk, but remain in view of the house. I know from Lady Catherine’s experience how cruel are those who know nothing but envy.'

They walked slowly by the wall, her gown touching the salt-roughened grass, his sword slapping against his thigh.

Then she asked abruptly, 'Can you see me with all these clever, worldly people?' She turned to look up at him. 'In truth, Adam, can you?'

He placed his hand over hers and they walked on. 'You will captivate them, as you do me.' He waited, expecting her to react angrily, reject him as she had in Hampshire, the last time he had seen her.

But she said, 'When Val returns he will rightly expect me to be proud of his achievements, and I want to be equal to his expectations. I am proud of him, and I have never forgotten what I owe him.'

He said, holding her hand against his arm, 'And what about you, little mermaid, are you owed nothing? What if others care?'

She glanced up at him. 'I know you care. Of course I know. I remember…'

'What do you remember?' She was faltering, pulling away.

'When I found you in tears, Adam, grieving for Sir Richard. And then…'

'I loved you, Zenoria. I shall always love you. I want no other.'

She stared at him, her eyes frightened. 'Stop! You must not say such things!'

They halted at the end of the wall and looked at one another for a long moment. An old gardener carrying a rake passed them; they neither saw nor heard him.

Adam said quietly, 'I am not proud of what I am, Zenoria. But if I could take you from your husband, a man I like and greatly admire, then I would do it.' He saw her agitation but did not release his grip. 'I would not hesitate.'

'Please, somebody is coming!'

It was the flag-lieutenant. 'The admiral desires you to join the others for refreshments. Afterwards, there will be a recital.' His eyes moved between them but were without curiosity.

Adam offered his arm and they walked slowly back towards the house.

'Shall I leave, Zenoria?'

She shook her head, her profile suddenly very determined. 'No. Talk to me about your ship-anything, d’you understand? But do not reveal your heart again like that.'

He said, 'I still have your glove.' Something to say, to control his need of her.

'Keep it for me.' Her voice was husky. 'Think of me sometimes, will you?'

'Always. I love you, Zenoria.' They re-entered the house in silence.

The admiral raised his eyebrows. 'God swamp you, Captain Bolitho, I thought you had spirited her away!'

She curtsied as if to conceal the colour in her cheeks.

'Only little mermaids can do that, sir!'

Their eyes met across the table. Nothing could ever be the same again.

8. Dreams

The figures standing around the quarterdeck and grouped by the big double-wheel were still only shadows, revealed, but without personality against the pale planking.

John Allday waited by the hammock nettings, and glanced at the lightening sky. It would be dawn very soon: the few stars beyond the topgallant yards were fainter than when he had last looked. Then, by daylight, they would know if the captain and sailing-master had judged it correctly.