Mutiny

_{grinned. It was in stark contrast to their own indolence. Recently Kydd had noticed the first green shimmer of weed below the waterline of Achilles also appearing on the anchor cable. But that didn't concern him today: Emily had offered to show him the top of the Rock.}

 

_{It was donkeys again, but this time the party consisted only of Emily, Kydd and the quiet but watchful Letitia. They wound up a long path set at an incline to the face of the Rock. Emily kept up a pratde about the view and the history, all of which enabled Kydd to take his fill of her looks without pretence.}

_{From the top, a rocky spine and smooth parts, the view was every bit as breathtaking as claimed — at this height the ships were models, the town buildings miniatures, but Kydd was more aware of the rosy flush on Emily's cheeks as she pointed out the sights. 'Ah, look there, Thomas!' Far below, Nelson's frigate was getting under way, her commodore's pennant lifting in the fluky breeze and with all sail set. 'What a picture it is, to be sure.' Impulsively, she laid her arm on his.}

_{The frigate was smart in her actions, but was having a hard time in the uncertain wind eddies in the lee of the Rock, paying off in the light airs but nevertheless slowly gaining ground to the northwards.}

_{'And are the others coming, too?' Emily added innocently, taking out her dainty ladies' pocket telescope.}

_{Kydd frowned; the faraway ships she had seen were moored across the bay, in Spanish Algeciras — and they were sail-of-the-line. 'No doubt about it — but if y' would allow ...' She offered him the telescope with no comment, and two mighty enemy vessels leaped into view. If they caught up with the lone frigate, they could blast her to splinters.}

_{'They're Spanish battleships, I'm grieved t' say,' Kydd said. Achilles had her bowsprit in for survey and was not in any condition to come to the frigate's aid. The Spanish ships had a steady wind in their favour, and had picked up speed; the English frigate's wind was still in the thrall of the huge Rock, and she could not beat back against the south-easterly to escape.}

_{Kydd clenched his fists. This fire-breathing Nelson would not surrender tamely: the pretty frigate would be a shattered, smoking wreck even before he and Emily had had chance to spread their picnic.}

_{'Thomas?' Emily's voice was edged with concern. Kydd stared through the telescope at the spreading drama. The larger Spanish three-decker was stretching away ahead of the other in her impatience to close with the frigate and, as Kydd watched, her guns were run out.}

_{Then, unaccountably, the frigate slewed round into the wind and came to a stop. Kydd could find no reason for the action. A small boat ventured out from behind her, her crew pulling energetically. It was carried forward by the current toward the Spanish, but stopped half-way. At last he understood: La Minerve had come aback while the jolly boat attended to a man overboard.}

_{The leading Spanish battleship shortened sail, slowing to drop back on her consort Cleariy she thought the move preposterous: there had to be a reason for the doomed frigate to round confidently on her pursuers. Could it be that she had sighted the English fleet coming to her aid?}

_{Kydd could only watch in admiration as the frigate picked up her boat and made off in the strengthening breeze. The Spaniard clapped on sail, but he was too late — the frigate was well on her way.}

_{Kydd punched the air in pent-up excitement. 'That was well done, blast m' eyes if it weren't!' he roared, too late remembering the ladies' presence.}

_{*      *      *}

_{Cockburn was uncharacteristically blunt. 'She is a married lady. It's unseemly to be seen so much in her company.'}

_{Kydd glowered. 'An' have I been improper in m' actions?' he said. 'Do I press my attentions? Is she unwilling?' He challenged Cockburn with a stare. 'She's invited me t' see so many of her friends, right good of her—'}

_{'She is a married woman!'}

_{'So I'm to refuse her? I think not!'}

_{Cockburn paused. He leaned back and said, in an odd voice, 'Do ye know her husband?'}

_{Kydd's face hardened. 'She's not discussed him wi' me at any time — must be a poor shab, he doesn't keep station on her more. Mr Mulvany is—'}