The King`s Coat

'We feared the fever had curdled your brains, Mister Lewrie.’

’Thought I was dead. Dreaming. Where?’

‘ Antigua,' the soft young voice said, and he looked into that elfin face, at those high cheekbones, that narrow chin and high forehead and still felt like he was dreaming. ’You are on the Atlantic side, Mister Lewrie,' the old woman told him. 'We brought you here when the surgeons had despaired of your recovery in hospital in English Harbor. After the brave thing you did, it was the least we could do for you. ’

‘God bless you, ma'am,' he breathed in her direction. Here, did she say I'd done something brave? That sounds promising… ’This is the shore residence of Admiral Sir Onsley Matthews. I am Lady Maude and this is the admiral's niece, Miss Lucy Beauman, from Jamaica.’

’God bless,' he said, gazing at the girl. 'She was there. ’

‘Lucy?' Lady Maude snorted. 'Where?’

‘Tyburn. The Strand. I saw her. I think I did.’

’Just dreams, Mister Lewrie,' Lady Maude said. 'Fevers do that to you.’

’Followed her,' he insisted weakly, 'couldn't catch up. ’

‘Auntie, he's still so weak,' the girl whispered, concerned. 'Aye, and will be for some time longer. Mister Lewrie, could you take a portion of a nourishing broth?' He nodded slowly. ’Andromeda, go tell Cook to prepare a thin meat broth and be quick about it,' Lady Maude told the mop-squeezer, 'and put some red wine in it for stoutness.’

’Yassum.’

’Parrot,' Lewrie asked, wondering what he had done that was so brave and wonderful, and concerned about his ship… 'Is she safe?’

‘Indeed she is, Mister Lewrie!' Lady Maude beamed down at him. 'Lord and Lady Cantner have sailed to Tortola to meet the winter convoy, and Parrot still swims proudly. And you can be proud of doing such a brave duty for the Crown, young man. Very resourceful indeed.. ‘. ’The privateer brig,' Lewrie said as the memory of what he had done came back in a rush. And a dread, too. 'As Sir Onsley said, 'burnt to the waterline and Frogs' legs in a flambe,' ' Lady Maude tittered. 'Serve 'em right,' Lewrie muttered, ready to fall asleep once more. ’Still thirsty, Mister Lewrie?' Lucy asked 'Yes,' he replied, realizing that he was. ’Lucy, fetch a bottle of brandy from the wine cabinet,' Lady Maude instructed. 'A pinch of that in his water will put color in his cheeks.’

’Any color but quince,' he said with a happy sigh, and they began to laugh heartily, a giddy sound of relief, and Lewrie drifted off to the sound of it.

When he was adjudged strong enough to hear the news, Rear Admiral Sir Onsley Matthews stopped by to visit him. Lewrie had been sitting up in bed, bemoaning the loss of his hair and eyebrows to the fever when the man entered. Sir Onsley was corpulent, big allover, balding and looking strangled in his neckcloth. ’Sir Onsley.' He nodded in lieu of a bow. ’You look like death's head on amopstick, but I hear you're going to recover, lad,' Sir Onsley began, sitting down on the edge of the table by the bed, which fortunately was square and heavy enough to support his body better…’

’Damn close thing. you and the Yellow Jack. Not many survive. but if you do, you stand a good chance of being acclimated to it and won't come down with it again.' Sir Onsley crossed his arms on his chest. 'Have some news for you.’

’Aye. sir?’

‘Your captain recovered as well. and about a third of your sick. ’

‘I am gratified to hear that, Sir Onsley.' Lewrie said automatically. but thinking that he wasn't so sure. after discovering that Lieutenant Kenyon preferred 'the windward passage. ’

‘Parrot is under another officer and has departed for Nassau. We needed her badly. Had to appoint two new midshipmen to her. so I'm afraid you're without a berth for a while. ’

‘Oh.' Lewrie said. feeling a sadness that he would not have expected six months before at such news. What would become of him? What sort of berth would he get once he recovered. fit to stand duties? Would he have to go back to the sullen abuse of the regular Fleet once more? 'I understand. Sir Onsley.’

’I understand. too. lad.' the admiral said. clearing his throat. 'Happened to me once. my first time in the Indies. for the same reason. Now look here. you're not to wony about anything but getting well for now. You shall be my wife and Lucy's project until you're well enough to get around, and I'll find something for you to do.’

’You are too kind to me. Sir Onsley.’

’Until then. you have the hospitality of my house.’

’I am most grateful to you. Sir Onsley. But I am probably well enough to go back to hospital to recover.' Lewrie offered, hoping that it was pro Jonna for him to say that and be denied. He liked it there. and the girl was gorgeous… ’Nonsense. Healthier over here on the windward side. anyway. If a ship could tack out of what passes for a harbor here. I'd move the entire dockyard. That's your chest over there. by the way. And I have some of your things. pay-certificates and such. There're some letters for you, when you feel up to reading them. And a present or two.’

’Presents?' Lewrie perked up, finding it hard to believe. 'Andromeda,' Sir Onsley bellowed in his best quarterdeck voice. 'Fetch those packages for Mister Lewrie.’

The girl entered the room with them and placed them on the bed. There was a small ivory box, the sort used in gambling houses like White's or the Cocoa Tree to hold guineas in set amounts. Lewrie opened it and beheld a double row of glittering guineas. He dug one out and discovered that it was real. A hundred guineas, at the very least! 'That's from Lord and Lady Cantner. Reward for your bravery, and your nacky ruse to sink or cripple that privateer. Mind you, not my idea of a truly honorable ruse de guerre, but to save the life of a high government official and his lady, it was the only thing you could do to fight a stronger ship and get away with a whole skin,' Sir Onsley told him. 'If there are no Frogs to complain about it, then I'll not. Old co It's-tooth puts a high price on his skin, it seems.’

’Aye, sir, indeed,' Lewrie said, unable to feature it.

There was a second small package from Lady Cantner. It was a gold locket that when opened sported a miniature of her countenance on one side, and under a wafer of glass on the other, a lock of her dark hair. Lewrie snapped it shut, and met the admiral's raised eyebrows. ’Lord Cantner asked me to review the report your mate Claghorne wrote on the action, to see that you got proper credit at Whitehall,' the admiral went on. 'And I submitted my own as well. Your family will be proud to read about you in the London papers. Won't do your career any harm, either, to be an eight-day wonder. Though if the Lord North government is turned out, Cantner will no longer be much help to you.’

’This is heady stuff, all the same, Sir Onsley,' Lewrie said with a shyness he did not exactly feel. 'I am quite overcome. ’

‘This is from your Lieutenant Kenyon,' Sir Onsley said, handing him a cloth-wrapped bundle. Lewrie unfolded it to reveal a sword, a hunting sword, or hanger. It was bright steel, chased minimally with nautical detailing on the blade, slightly curved, flat on top but razor-sharp from narrow tip to within an inch of the hilt. And the hilt was a double seashell pattern with a tapering hand-guard that ran back to a lion's-head pommel, all gleaming silver. The grip was silver wire, wound over blue sharkskin for a finn, dry grip. The scabbard was a dark blue leather with a silver drag and upper fitting, and the belt hook was a smaller replica of the seashells of the hilt.

Not only was it utterly lovely, but it was a Gill's, reputed to be the strongest blades in all of Europe, harder to break than a Bilboa or Toledo or Solingen blade, even when struck with great force on the flat of the blade. It was a handsome gift, nearly a hundred guineas in its own right, and he actually felt guilty to feel such animosity toward Lieutenant Kenyon for being a miserable Molly, after he had given him such a magnificent present. ’God, it's beautiful.. ‘. ’He believes that you earned it, saving his ship for him, even if he lost her due to his illness,' Sir Onsley said, rising to pace the room. He glared at the chirping bird in the cage by the louvered doors, a black and brightly banded local bird called a bananaquit,that doted on jams and fruit. 'Damn silly creature. You can let dogs in, but never birds. Trouble has a way of following you about like one of those hounds of Hades or something, know that, Mister Lewrie?’

‘Aye, Sir Onsley,' Alan said, scarcely able to tear his eyes from the beautiful bright sword. 'First Ariadne, now Parrot, and you have the devil's own luck not only to survive, but come out covered in credit. ’

‘I don't know what to say, Sir Onsley,' he said with a shrug of nonunderstanding. Was he being criticized? 'Resourceful,' Sir Ousley mused aloud. 'Courageous. Crafty. Not much of a tarpaulin man yet, but that'll come.