The Admiral's Daughter

Where did his loyalties lie? The words fell out of him. 'Th' truth, then, sis, an' ye may not like it.'

Now there was no going back. She waited, rigid.

'Ye have t' understand, Cec, that Nicholas is not like y' common sort o' cove. He has a rare enough headpiece.'

'Go on.'

'An' at times it leads him into strange notions.' She did not stir. 'Er, very strange.' There was no help for it: she would have to know everything. 'He—he cares f'r you, sis,' Kydd said. 'He told me so himself, 'I own before ye this day that Cecilia is dearer t' me than I c'n say.' This he said t' me in Van Diemen's Land.'

She stared at him, eyes wide, hands at her mouth. 'He was there with you? Then what . . . ?'

'Y' see, Cec, while he was abed wi' the fever he was thinkin'. Of you, sis. An' he feels as it would be improper for him t' make it known t' ye without he has achieved somethin' in th' world, somethin' he c'n lay before ye an' be worthy of y'r attention. So he ships out f'r New South Wales as a settler, thinkin' t' set up an estate in th' bush by his own hands. But I reckon he's no taut hand at y'r diggin' an' ploughin', an' he lost his fortune and reason toilin' away at his turnips.'

Kydd took a deep breath. 'I offered him passage home. Now he'll come t' sea wi' me an' work on an ethnical book. It's all a mort too deep f'r me, but when it's published, I'll wager ye'll hear from him then.'

Cecilia swayed, only a slight tremor betraying her feelings.

Kydd went on anxiously, 'He made me swear not t' tell a soul— an' it would go ill wi' me, y' understand, Cec, should he feel I'd betrayed his trust.'

'Nicholas—the dear, dear man!' she breathed.

'We conjured up th' story, sis, as would see ye satisfied in th' particulars, but . . .' He tailed off uncertainly.

'Thomas! I do understand! It's more than I could ever . . .' A shuddering sigh escaped her and she threw her arms round him.

'Dear brother, you were so right to tell me. He shall keep his secret, and only when he's ready . . .'

'Why, it's Mr Renzi. Just as y' said, Thomas!' Mrs Kydd was clearly much pleased by Renzi's reappearance and ushered him into the room. His eyes found Cecilia's, then dropped.

'Why, Nicholas, you are so thin,' Cecilia said teasingly. 'And your complexion—anyone might think you one of Thomas's island savages.' She crossed to him and kissed him quickly on both cheeks.

Renzi stood rigid, then pecked her in return, his face set. She drew away but held his eyes, asking sweetly, 'I'm so grateful to the nuns who ministered to you. What was their order? I believe we should thank them properly for their mercies to our dear brother restored to us.'

'Oh, er, that won't be necessary,' Renzi said stiffly. 'You may be assured that every expression of gratitude has been extended, dear sister.'

'Then a small gift, a token—I will sew it myself,' she insisted.

Kydd coughed meaningfully, then grunted, 'Leave him be, Cec. Tell us your news, if y' please.'

She tossed her head. 'Why, nothing that might stand with your exciting adventures.' She sighed. 'Only last week—'

'Oh dear!'

'What is it, Mama?'

'I've jus' this minute remembered.' Mrs Kydd rose and went to the sewing cupboard. 'I have it here somewhere—now, where did I put it?'

'Put what, pray?'

'Oh, a letter f'r Thomas. From London, th' navy, I think.' She rummaged away, oblivious to Kydd's keen attention. 'I thought I'd better put it away safely until—ah, yes, here it is.'

Kydd took it quickly. From the fouled anchor cipher on its face it was from the Admiralty. He flashed a look of triumph at Renzi and hastened to open it, his eyes devouring the words.

'The King . . . orders-in-council . . . you are required and directed . . .' Too excited to take in details, he raced to the end where, sure enough, he saw the hurried but unmistakable signature of the First Lord of the Admiralty—but no mention of a ship, a command.

Renzi stood by the mantelpiece, watching Kydd with a half-smile. 'Nicholas, what do ye make o' this?' Kydd handed him the letter. 'I should go t' Plymouth, not London?'

Renzi studied it coolly. 'By this you may know that your days of unalloyed leisure on half-pay are now summarily concluded and you are, once again, to be an active sea officer. If I catch the implication correctly, Lord St Vincent has knowledge of your far voyaging and therefore is not sanguine as to your immediate availability for service. He directs you, however, to repair at once to Plymouth where, no doubt, the admiral will be pleased to employ you as he sees fit.' He frowned. 'Yet within there is no mention of the nature of your employment. I rather fancy you should be prepared for whatever the Good Lord—or the admiral—provides.'

'Then we should clap on all sail an' set course f'r Plymouth, I believe!' exclaimed Kydd.

'Just so,' said Renzi, quietly.

Cecilia's face set. 'Nicholas, you're sadly indisposed. You need not go with Thomas.'

With infinite gentleness Renzi turned to her. 'Dear sister, but I do.'

'Come!' The voice from inside the admiral's office was deep and authoritative.