He followed him to the companion; a man you would never know, he thought.
A Royal Marine sentry brought his heels together and the first screen door opened soundlessly. There had been a sentry on guard in the vice-admiral's quarters throughout the storm. Would he have remained here if the ship had foundered? He shook himself free of the thoughts. He was more tired than he had believed.
It was the first time he had ever seen Bethune so disturbed and ill at ease. He took in the loose neck cloth and a stain of what looked like wine on one sleeve, like dried blood.
Bethune stared at him. 'Nothing to report?' Characteristically, he did not wait for an answer. 'Good, but I'm not a mind reader, you know! '
Adam realized for the first time that Troubridge was also present, on his knees beside one of Bethune's beautiful leather trunks. He did not look up.
Adam said quietly, 'Most of the running repairs are in hand, Sir Graham. I am sending both watches to breakfast. They've done well, very well.'
Bethune studied him, as if he were looking for another explanation.
He said, 'I've been like a caged animal down here! By God, I almost envied you working the ship, holding the people together! ' He gave a short, humourless laugh. 'Never thought I'd hear myself say that. But when you're cooped up like this, well, you begin to believe anything! '
Adam's eyes moved around the main cabin. Furniture secured, the expensive desk covered with oilskin in case a heavy sea had smashed open a gun port
Bethune did not know, or perhaps care, that other cabins and half of the wardroom had been removed during the long refit, when Athena had been transformed into a flagship and the space was required for her first admiral. He was hardly 'cooped up'.
Bethune snapped his fingers and a servant hurried to uncover a chair.
'What are our chances of making a rendezvous with…' He snapped his fingers again and Troubridge called from the open trunk, lVilla de Bilbao, Sir Graham.'
Bethune leaned back slowly, as if the chair were hurting him.
'Well, what are our chances, overall, I mean?'
'She's a sound ship, Sir Graham, and manned by trained seamen. Volunteers. Pointer is in command, and his second lieutenant from Lotus. Grimes was with the original prize crew, and is more than capable.'
Bethune leaned over in the chair as if to see Troubridge. 'Yes indeed, Commander Pointer as he is now! ' It sounded like an accusation.
Adam said, 'He is all but due, Sir Graham. It is not an easy plan that we are about to execute.'
Bethune rubbed his chin. 'Pointer will enter San Jose as if he is being pursued, by Audacity, or Hostile if Captain Munro is off station due to the storm or whatever. We shall be close by, should the slavers attempt to break out.' The fingers had moved to one arm of the chair, tapping a slow tattoo. 'Well? What are the chances of success, in your opinion?'
'I doubt if local shipping has been on the move in San Jose 's area. Bad coast, and the slavers are not going to take unnecessary risks.' From a corner of his eye he saw Troubridge's hand grip the edge of the leather trunk. A caution. Or a prompt? 'Unless they've already been warned, of course.'
Bethune did not rise to it.
'The weather is our ally, you said? That may be so… I'll not detain you, Adam. I've not forgotten what it's like to walk that deck with only my own wits to rely on.' He was almost jocular now. 'Duties permitting, sup with me this evening, eh?' He spoke to the cabin at large. 'Just the two of us.'
Adam left the cabin and climbed slowly to the quarterdeck.
The sky was already clearer, the horizon like burnished copper. And not another living thing in sight.
He glanced up through the shrouds and stays and the barely filling topsails, to the vice-admiral's flag at the fore.
As if it were yesterday, he could remember the stir Richard Bolitho had caused at the Admiralty and throughout the fleet when he had said that the days of the line of battle, the symbol of sea power, were numbered. Perhaps Bethune, sheltered for so many years behind those walls of Admiralty, was only just coming to see the strength of that argument. The Saintes, the Nile, and finally Trafalgar, had seen the last of the great squadrons, gun to gun at point-blank range. Lord Exmouth, still a frigate captain at heart, must have realized it at Algiers. Risk, courage, and Lady Luck, as Thomas Herrick called her, had been his true strength.
He thought of Bethune's words. The weather is our ally. You said? Doubts? Second thoughts? Suppose the mock attack failed, or the slavers had vanished? How resolute might he be then?
He looked up at the admiral's flag again, cracking out to a freak gust of wind.
Bethune knew it; so did Troubridge. If the plan misfired, the blame would only rest with one.
It was calm, even peaceful in the admiral's quarters later, when Adam returned. Storm lashings had all but vanished, and every piece of furniture shone in the glow of candles and lanterns.
Bethune was more his old self, elegant, assured, eager to make his guest comfortable and welcome.
'The beef will probably be like leather, Adam, but the wines are good enough to hide the cook's errors! '
Tolan and two other servants waited on table without bustle or noise. Adam relaxed very slowly. In two or three days' time Athena could be quivering to the crash and recoil of gunfire, and even in a hit-and-run skirmish there would be casualties. He thought of the small frigate Audacity, knowing the risk she might have to take, and all the similar risks he had known and shared since he had worn the King's coat.
Bethune said abruptly, 'Of course, Adam, I sometimes forget. How well do you know Lady Catherine?'
Adam met his eyes across the table. Troubridge's unspoken warning; Tolan's anger and something more, after his errand ashore in English Harbour.
He answered, 'She was very good to me when I needed help, and understanding.'
Bethune touched his lower lip with an empty glass. 'I heard something about that. And she wanted you to have Richard's Nile medal. I thought that was a fine thing to do. Had fate decided differently I would have relieved his squadron earlier. Fate indeed, Adam? Then I might have been the one to fall in battle.'
Adam tried not to listen to the thud of the tiller head, the clatter of blocks in a strengthening breeze. Stirling was there. He would call his captain if need be.
He said, 'We have all been close to death from time to time, Sir Graham.'
Bethune put down the glass sharply. 'That is not what I am saying. Lady Catherine is a fine person in every way. Brave and caring, as she showed every one when she was in an open boat with that wretched vessel's survivors. Anything might have happened. To her, I mean! ' He waved one hand, lace spilling from the coat sleeve. 'To be truthful, I care for her very much.' He stared at him, his eyes reflecting the candlelight. 'Why am I telling you this? How may it concern you?' He shrugged. 'Perhaps because I feel I owe that much to you. Because of Sir Richard.'
Adam said quietly, 'Baron Sillitoe is somehow involved in the slave trade, directly or otherwise we cannot know. Lady Catherine feels indebted to him. He saved her life, protected her reputation.'
Bethune banged the table. 'Nobody knows that better than I do, dammit! ' He calmed himself, the effort almost physical. 'But gratitude is never enough.'
He glanced round and snapped his fingers. ' Cognac, Tolan. Then leave us.'
Adam stared at the plates. He could still taste the food, but did not recall eating anything, or if the beef had been like leather or otherwise.
Only the cognac seemed real. He said, 'Lady Catherine told you she was returning to England?'
'Eventually. I had hoped to see her when this so-called campaign is finished.' He regarded him steadily. 'The terms would be her own, but that she has always known. I would not betray her, be assured of that.'
Adam wondered if any one had ever seen or heard this Bethune, let alone shared something so significant, and so dangerous.
Bethune said, 'Walk from this cabin, and I will never mention this matter again. You are my flag captain that must be enough, more than enough, some would say.' He tried to smile, but it would not come. 'But as a friend, tell me what you think.'
Adam thought he heard a door click. Maybe Tolan was listening, gauging his own future perhaps. Bethune's wife came of a rich and influential family. An affair would not be allowed to melt away so easily.
He heard himself say, 'I think she will have tried to warn Sillitoe, although I'd have thought that he of all people would be on his ready guard.'
