The Admiral's Daughter

He straightened and turned. 'Miss Lockwood!' He made her an elegant leg, a dainty curtsy his reward.

'Cynthia, this is Commander Kydd of the Royal Navy, and a friend of mine. Mr Kydd, may I introduce Miss Knopleigh, who is—no, let me work it out—a third cousin on my mother's side. Isn't that so, my dear?'

Kydd bowed again, the use of 'friend' not lost on him. 'Miss Knopleigh, a pleasure t' make y'r acquaintance—an' so good t' see you again, Miss Lockwood.'

Miss Knopleigh bobbed demurely to Kydd and said warmly, 'Oh, so this is the interesting man you told me about. I'm so gratified to meet you, Mr Kydd.' She stepped back but continued to regard him thoughtfully.

'We were on our way to Allston's for chocolate—would it be so very importunate to ask you to join us, Mr Kydd, and perhaps to tell Cynthia a little of your voyages?'

The chocolate was very good; and the ladies applauded Kydd's descriptions of Naples and Nelson, the summit of Vesuvius and the inside of a pasha's seraglio. He felt his confidence grow. She had called him 'friend'—and had introduced him to her cousin. Did this mean . . . ?

'That was most enjoyable, Mr Kydd.' Persephone's skin was fashionably alabaster, but her hazel eyes were frank, round and uncomfortably disconcerting the longer they lingered on him. Kydd caught a ghosting of perfume as she opened her dainty reticule. 'I don't suppose you will be long in Plymouth this time?' she asked, as she took out a lace handkerchief.

'Ah, I—we await a new fore-topsail yard, it being wrung in a blow. No more'n a sennight I should have thought, Miss Lockwood.'

'Oh, it's so disagreeable when that sort of thing happens.' Then she smiled. 'Well, we must go. Goodbye, Mr Kydd, and thank you for your company.'

Renzi's quill scratching away in the quietness of his cabin intruded into Kydd's thoughts. Was he imagining it or had Persephone meant something special when she spoke of him as 'interesting'? He had detected no furtive glances, no betraying flush of that other kind of interest— but here he was at a disadvantage, for every woman he had known was of quite another quality. The loose rules of engagement with them did not apply here and if he was to press his attentions—

But did he want to? Yes! She was the most attractive and accomplished woman he had ever known or spoken to, and she did seem . . .

The cabin felt small and stifling. 'Er, I think I'll take a turn about th' decks, Nicholas,' he said. Renzi murmured acknowledgement and continued to scribble.

The deck was nearly deserted. Standish and most of the men were ashore and Kydd was left alone to pace slowly. Should he make his interest in Miss Lockwood plain? What if he was completely mistaken and she had no interest of that sort in him? Would she be furious at an unforgivable impertinence from a low-born— or, worse, laugh him to scorn?

It was galling to be in such ignorance but he knew he was being swept into regions of desire and ambition that made resolution imperative.

A muffled roar of good humour came from the mess-deck below. Jack Tar would have no qualms about action in the situation: cease from backing and filling—clap on all sail and fearlessly lay alongside.

He bit his lip. Renzi would be of no help: he had made his position clear. But there was one who might . . .

'Then what is it, Thomas, that's so pressing I must make my apologies to Mrs Mullins at such short notice?' Cecilia said crossly, once they were safely in the intimacy of the drawing room.

'I'm sincerely sorry, Cec, t' intrude on y'r social situation,' Kydd said moodily, staring into the empty fireplace. 'Y' see, I've some thinkin' t' do an' it needs sortin' out of a kind . . .'

She looked at him keenly. 'Of a personal nature, I'd suspect.'

'Aye, sis, private, ye might say. That is—not t' you, o' course.' He shifted uncomfortably. 'Can y' tell me true, Cec, th' answers to some questions, you bein' a woman and all?'

'A lady, the last time I looked,' she said tartly. 'What are your questions, then, Thomas?'

Kydd mumbled, 'If y' aren't goin' t' help me, then—'

'Don't be a silly, of course I will. Although why you don't go to Nicholas with your man problems I really don't know.'

'He's—he's set in his views, is all,' he said, embarrassed. 'This is somethin' I—I need t' ask you, Cec.'

'Very well. Go on.'

'Ah—y' see, I—I met Miss Persephone Lockwood on th' street with her cousin an' she—'

'You're taken with her and, against all my advice, you wish to press your amours!'

'Cec! Don't say it like that. I'm—she's, er—'

'I see. Well, do not, I pray, ask me . . .' She stopped at Kydd's expression and her manner softened. 'Dear brother, it's just that I'd loathe to see you brought low by an uncaring world. Tell me, do you feel for her that much?'

'Cec, I'm thinkin' of her all th' time! She's like no one I've ever met—or even seen afore. She's—'

'How do you conceive her feelings are for you?'

'That's what I need ye to advise me on.'

'To tell you what she feels towards you? This is a hard thing, Thomas. One woman's way of showing her inside feelings will be very different from another's and, besides, Miss Lockwood will have been brought up to control her passions strictly. Let me ask you, was your meeting on the street by way of an accident, do you think?'

'Aye, it must have been, for—'

'Then she takes you directly to a public chocolate-house— mmm. How did she introduce you to this cousin?'