The King`s Coat

That'll come.' Lewrie studied him intently, waiting for the bad shoe to drop. ’I'm off for supper and bed. You rest up and recover, and we'll see what comes open after that. Delighted to have met you at last, my boy.’

’And I you, Sir Onsley,' trying to bow from a sitting position as the admiral stomped from the room.

Damn, am I famous for what I did? he asked himself after the admiral had left the room. One thing is for certain, I'm rich. A pair of ponies for saving Lord Canmer, and it's gold, not certificates. If he's that grateful, maybe I should make a career out of saving lords, and I'd be rolling in chink! He stood the sword and its scabbard by the bed and opened his mail. There was a letter from Lord Canmer, full of fulsome praises and charming compliments, expressing his gratitude for his life and freedom, and a promise to keep an eye on his career once he was back in London. Alan vowed to write him as soon as he was able, to keep in touch with someone who could turn out to be a benefactor, knowing that the Navy admired nautical skills, but the officer who succeeded was often the recipient of exactly such favor and unofficial maneuverings at Whitehall.

If the first letter had pleased him, the second had him ready to tear at his hair (had he any remaining). It was from Kenyon. While he had given him the sword, it was in the nature of a parting gift, and they could not consider themselves as associates in future. Kenyon was shocked and saddened that Alan had disobeyed Claghome, even more outraged that he would have violated the time-honored usage of striking the colors as a subterfuge against an honorable foe, even a ship full of privateers. Scum or not, they were blessed with a letter of marque giving them quasi status as a naval vessel.

Kenyon went on to inform him that Claghome had been promoted to lieutenant, and given Parrot, not as a due reward for his skills and knowledge, but more as a peace offering to keep him quiet.

Kenyon, and Claghome, were deeply saddened that a man who should have found joy in an earned promotion found only shame, due to the reprehensible behavior of someone they'd once thought full of promise. ’Oh so-holy bastard,' Lewrie muttered angrily, crumpling up the letter. 'Raving on about honor when he'd bare his own backside to any of his kind who'd ride him. Gifting me with a sword-what does he think I should do, fallon it like a Roman senator? 'Be prepared for when your lack of honor is called to question, so you'll have something to duel with, as you cannot escape that fate if you continue as you are,' ' he quoted to himself from the letter. 'Well, the admiral didn't think what I did was evil or reprehensible. Sneaky, perhaps, but he didn't want to hang me for it. Deep down, under all his manly talk and bluster, Kenyon's an old woman. Should have been a vicar, so he could preach about honor and all that, instead of a sailor. He doesn't like the Navy any more than I, maybe less… so what's he so exercised about?' Once he had composed himself (and hidden that accusatory epistle safely away from prying eyes), he helped himself to Lady Maude's special decoction, cold tea, with the rob of lemons, and a pinch of sugar, and opened the third letter. ’Now this is more like it!' It was from Keith Ashburn, still sixth lieutenant to Sir Onsley on Glatton. It was chatty and newsy about previous messmates, and an open invitation to spend some time roving English Harbor 's pleasurable pursuits once he had gotten stronger. It was also full of a teasing, but basically envious, accounting of how his heroism had been received in the flagship, and in port, which was most gratifying to peruse.

Without knowing all the intimate details of the fight with that privateer, it was assumed by one and all that some hard and plucky bottom was shown by Claghorne and Lewrie as the only two officers still well enough to not only face up to a better-armed brig, but to burn her to the waterline and win the day. All honor and glory to Claghorne, now a commission officer with an independent command, the recognizable mark of favor usually shown a first lieutenant after a spectacular victory! And all honor and glory to a plucky, courageous midshipman named Lewrie that any captain would be damned glad to have in his gun room.

Aye, give even a cur like me a good name, and it'll be harder to get rid of than cowshit on riding boots, Alan agreed to himself, secretly and totally delighted. Kenyon can stick his nose up at the smell, but I'll bet most of ' em would still think I was heroic, even if they knew the whole truth.

His jubilation was disturbed as the maidservant entered with a supper tray, followed by Lucy Beauman, eyes glowing with the admiration she clearly felt for him. ’We must not allow news from the wide world to upset you, Mister Lewrie,' she said. 'Your main concern is recovery. Now here's your supper. A nourishing soup,' she said brightly, indicating various dishes on the tray, lifting the lid of his supper. 'Old Isaac caught this lobster this afternoon, and there's drawn butter, carrots and peas. And Auntie… Lady Maude believes a small amount of hock will strengthen your blood. Do you need another pillow? May I fluff up that one? There you are, more comfortable.’

’You are too kind to me, Miss Beauman.’

She tucked a large white napkin into the top of his bed gown and spread it over his chest. Andromeda placed the tray across his lap and began to pour him some white wine. ’There's enough for two glasses tonight,' Lucy informed him, taking a seat in a chair by the bed that left her seated below him, from where she looked up at him like a prepubescent elder sister would regard the anival of a new offspring. 'I know how you Navy men enjoy your wine. And if you're very good, and gain your strength, Lady Maude shall allow you more.’

’I shall try,' Alan promised her, taking a welcome sip. 'Is this your sword?' Lucy asked, touching it but not attempting to pick it up. 'How marvelous. Did your captain give it you?’

‘Yes, he did. Sir Onsley just presented it to me.’

’So he should reward someone who saved his command as he lay iII.' Lucy nodded firmly, shifting her adoring gaze back to him. 'That will be all for now, Andromeda.’

’Youah suppah be ready soon, missy,' the black girl said on the way out. 'You really look much better, Mister Lewrie,' Lucy said as he cracked a claw open, spurting hot juices across the napkin. 'May I assist you?’

‘I believe I may manage, but thankee just the same, Miss Beauman.' He cut a portion and dunked the meat in the hot butter, brought it to his mouth and chewed, thinking how regal a good fresh lobster could be. And how messy. But the girl was there with another napkin to help daub at him. ’Is there anything else you would require, Mister Lewrie?' she asked, eager to fetch for him. 'Perhaps a nice heel of bread?’

‘This shall be sufficient,' he told her, spooning up some of the soup. It was hot and spicy, loaded with chunks of some local fish and various pot vegetables. 'I fear I am making a mess.’

’Then allow me to assist. Really, I don't mind at all,' she assured him. 'Give me your spoon and rest easy. ’

‘How much longer shall I be confined to bed, Miss Beauman? ‘

‘I believe a naval surgeon visits tomorrow. He would know better, Mister Lewrie.' Delicately she brought the spoon to his lips. 'I love island soups and stews, don't you?’

‘I feel so useless lying here,' he said, 'and I must get back aboard a ship. ’

‘Not until you are perfectly recovered, I pray!' she said quickly, then blushed at her sentiment. 'I mean-’

‘Well, if I am to recover fully I can think of no better place in which to do it, and no better company, Miss Beauman,' which brought another stronger flush to her cheeks and shoulders. 'My Christian name is Alan.’

’Alan,' she repeated, tasting the strength of it. 'I am Lucy. ’

‘May I call you that?’

‘I am sure that Lady Maude would not mind. Nor would I. ’

‘Wonderful.' He smiled. 'Then I shall, with all respect, and all gratitude. ’

‘I did nothing,' she said shyly. 'It was all Lady Maude's idea. But I must say you have richly earned her hospitality and concern. ‘

‘Words cannot express my thanks, Lucy,' he said softly, glad the tray covered a hopeful stirring at the sight of how fresh and adoring she was, and how beautiful.

… Your return to duty in full health shall be our reward, Alan,' she said right back, showing a tremulous boldness for a second.

If! had died, heaven could not have been half this grand, he told himself as she cut him another bite of lobster.

A week later, he still lingered at Lady Maude's house, able to rise from bed and get about without assistance. With Lucy as his companion, and Old Isaac as a chaperone, he was encouraged to take exercise to rebuild his shattered strength. Mostly they walked the beaches, going down the gentlest inclines to the sea.

Alan was painfully thin after his ordeal, a trace of quince still remained in his complexion, but he was content to puff and blow as he climbed up or down the slopes to the sandy beaches where he could stroll for hours, with many