"Well, then…" Charlton huffed, looking more businesslike. "We're probably the last Royal Navy vessels east of Corsica, and this may be an infrestiri passage out. Our British civilians at Venice… we should put in there, take aboard as many as wish-"
"Beg pardon, sir," Lewrie exclaimed, quite happy to discuss any other matters. "I took the liberty as well of embarking Lord Rushton, his traveling companion Mr. Chute, Sir Malcolm and Lady Lucy Shockley, their servants, and a Mrs. Connor. In my report, sir… third page…" Charlton thumbed through to it and nodded, raising his eyebrows in wonder. "Jhm-humm" he commented. "So this lady and her son might need dropping off at Zante, in the Ionians? Delaying our departure?"
"No, sir. She's of Greek parentage, Venetian citizenship, but the widow of an Irish trader. Converted to his faith… Catholicism, when she married, so… she's not exactly welcome with her family, I gather… Eastern Orthodox? She was aboard that ship Mlavic took, on her way back from closing her late husband's final accounts. She had planned to take passage to England, to reside with her former in-laws, the child's grandparents, in Bristol. Her household goods have been sent on, and there'd be no cause to call at Zante."
"And Leutnant Kolodzcy?" Charlton asked, still "My wording" and "Good God'-ing" over Lewrie s written account. "Our liaison?"
"Disembarked at Venice, sir, and took a packet to Trieste."
"Good." Charlton nodded, looking pleased. "Good, then! There will be no need to put in at either port, so we may exit the Adriatic at once."
"Uhm, sir…?" Lewrie frowned. "Not put into Trieste, sir? I thought their Prize-Court, uhm… ain't they owing us a rather hefty sum by now?"
"There is that, I grant you, Commander Lewrie," Charlton said with a chuckle. "But… our orders are to sail 'with all despatch'… no time for a side-trip, no matter how rewarding. You know the usage, surely! Our own Prize-Courts take years to adjudicate the simplest of captures, and awards come even later, long after the taking vessel has paid off or been recommissioned. I'd expect our mutual ambassadors to wrangle it out, most-like. Else we'd be laid up for weeks and caught by a French squadron with no hope of aid. And," Charlton mused, wearing a cynical expression, "the Austrians have a lot more to worry over than anything to do with us, or their own naval affairs. Such as they are, mind. The worthless…" He bit off what else he thought of the Austrian "navy."
"Very well, sir," Lewrie said with a shrug, as if the loss did not matter, all that lovely gold he was due!
"Your wound, sir… you mentioned." Charlton turned all consoling. "No complications? You're mending well?"
"Aye, sir… no trouble of it."
"Good, good." Charlton nodded, sipping at his wine. "My stars, sir! Your great-cabins must be crowded as the very Ark. 'Twill never do for anyone to say I made a peer suffer. Nor one of our most eminent industrial gentlemen… and both with a seat in Parliament, what? We must put in somewhere and shift them about, share the burden equally. I can only think that you've had a most int'restin' passage thus far, sir."
"Quite, sir," Lewrie replied with a shy grin.
Don't know the half of it, he confessed to himself.
"This Lord Peter Rushton and his traveling companion, Mr. Chute, are old schoolmates of yours, I recall, Lewrie? Perhaps it might best suit that they remain aboard Jester."
Oh, Christ, no! Lewrie wished he could shout.
"Well, sir… he is highest-ranking. Wouldn't it be… pardon me for daring to presume to suggest, sir, but… like-with-like, sir? Aboard the flagship? Though you may find them perhaps too-boisterous company. Chute's a bit 'fly,' a born rogue. And Lord Peter, well… they're both bachelors, sir. A tad, uhm… dare I mention, rakish?"
And sniffin' round Theoni like ram-cats on a queen on-heat! he allowed himself to fume; smarmy shits, never done me a single favour, and know too much about me already!
"Oh, better yet, sir!" Lewrie exclaimed. "The perfect pairing. They could be put aboard Pylades with Captain Rodgers. His ways are near theirs… bit of the rough-and-tumble? Besides, sir, Sir Malcolm and Lady Shockley… though they are a step below Lord Rushton in the peerage… Sir Malcolm is known to be a dab-hand at whist, sir. Much more influential, I recall, too. Scads richer, to be certain."
Long as you don't pair 'em with Fillebrowne, Lewrie thought; or, do! God, what a catfight that'd be, should Fillebrowne even try to have himself a quick "upright" in the chart-space!
"Aye, an excellent suggestion, Commander Lewrie," Captain Charlton said with a smile. "I stand in your debt, sir. And I find your kind consideration of my hobby most gratifying. Seas are a bit rough for a transfer at the moment, so… hmm. Ah. There," he said, consulting a chart that lay spread on his desk with pen-eases and such. "I own to a certain morbid curiosity… and it is the closest sheltered lee we have. Palagruza. We'll put in there this evening. Anchor overnight, and shift your passengers and their dunnage about in calmer water. I will dine them all aboard Lionheart, with all our captains. You and… this Mrs. Connor, as well. Then sail tomorrow morning for the straits."
"Very good, sir. Well… s'pose I should get back to Jester," Lewrie offered, rising. "Unless there's anything else you need, sir?"
"Uhm, no, Lewrie, your reports more than ample," Charlton told him, rising to see him off. "Uhm… anent our pirates. Does this lady know our involvement with Petracic and Mlavic?"
"No, sir."
"Let's keep it that way, shall we?" Charlton suggested. "Your presence there,.. you'd come to anchor to investigate, and were gulled. Then taken prisoner, before you could inform your ship. Thought they were French, found they were Venetian, or so they claimed. And offered to render assistance… laws of the sea, that sort of thing. A silly error on your part, an even greater stupidity on Mlavic's."
"Is that the way you'll report it, sir? That I was silly?" "God, no, Lewrie!" Charlton frowned. "Admiral Jervis will know the whole truth, no matter the consequences to me. But that's for the Fleet to know… and for honest Crown subjects to not. I'll tell him you were against it from the first, and that I was a fool for ignoring your advice. That I find you clever, aggressive and enterprising, and a man of many parts. A most resourceful fellow, whose value to me and this squadron was… well, inestimable, to be blunt. Is the admiral of a mind to keep this squadron together… and me in charge"-he winced for a rueful moment-"I'd hope you and Jester are part of it. If not, then I will press most strenuously for Admiral Jervis to make use of your talents in another, more responsible capacity."
"God, uhm… thankee, sir. That's most kind of you to say," Alan flummoxed, blushing with pride. And with guilt for how he ruined Charlton's scheme-and was now being praised for it! "Most kind."
Poor honest bastard. Lewrie felt like cringing. So straight you can't imagine…!
"My warmest regards to your passengers, sir. My heartfelt condolences to Mistress Connor for her ill treatment and her bereavement. We'll do everything to speed her on her way, tell her. And extend my invitation for supper to one and all. Uhm… her son…"
" 'Bout five, sir. Breeched, but you know young lads and table-manners. Polite little git, but…" Lewrie shrugged.
Charlton shivered, regarded his good carpets and upholsteries with a certain foreboding. "Well, if we must, we must. Roll up those carpets… I've slipcovers. On your way, then, Lewrie." "Aye aye, sir."
CHAPTER 2
Lewrie watched Pylades' gig and his own launch and cutter row away. So much luggage, chests and such Lord Peter and Clotworthy had brought aboard! And those mysteriously heavy wooden crates that had had to be stored on deck, too. Lewrie wished Commander Fillebrowne joy of their contents: those allegedly "Roman bronzes" of female acrobats that Clotworthy had had cast from a sketchbook, then antiqued in an acid-bath and a few days in the salt water of Venice 's Lagoon!