Honour This Day

Bolitho said, 'I shall greet Firefly's captain myself.'

The young commander almost bounded up Hyperion's tumblehome. Those who did not know stared with astonishment as their admiral threw his arms about the youthful officer who at first glance could have been his brother.

Bolitho held him and shook his shoulders gently. 'Adam. Of all people.'

Commander Adam Bolitho of the brig Firefly grinned with delight, his teeth very white in his sunburned face. AH he could say was, 'Well, Uncle!'

Bolitho stood in the centre of his cabin, while Yovell and Jenour sorted through a bag of despatches and letters which Adam had brought from the shore.

Adam said, 'It was amazing bad luck, Uncle. The Frogs put to sea under Admiral Villeneuve, and Our Nel went looking for them. But while the little admiral was searching around Malta and Alexandria, Villeneuve slipped through the Strait and into the Atlantic. In God's name, Uncle, had your orders been sent earlier you might have met up with 'em! Thank the high heavens you did not!'

Bolitho smiled quietly. Adam spoke with the ease and confidence of a seasoned old campaigner, and he was twenty-four years old; twenty-five in two months' time.

Adam said, 'This old ship, Uncle. Look at us now, eh?'

Bolitho nodded as Yovell placed an official Admiralty envelope before him. Adam had joined Hyperion as his first ship, a thin, pale youth, but with all the determination and wildness of a young colt.

Indeed, he thought. Look at us now.

So the French had put to sea at last. Past Gibraltar and across the Atlantic with Nelson eventually in hot pursuit. Villeneuve had apparently sailed westward, though for what purpose nobody seemed quite sure. Bolitho read swiftly, aware of Adam watching him. Wanting to talk with him more than anything, but needing to know what was happening; it might affect them all.

Bolitho handed the letter to Yovell and said, 'So the French are on the move. Is it a trick or are they out to divide our forces?'

Adam was right. Had he been ordered to leave Antigua earlier they might well have met up with the enemy. Five third-rates against one of the finest fleets in the world. The outcome would have been in no doubt. But at least they might have delayed Villeneuve until Nelson caught up with them. He smiled. Our Nel indeed.

Bolitho took the next letter, already opened by Jenour, who had barely taken his eyes off the young commander since he had stepped aboard. A part of the Bolitho story he did not yet share.

Bolitho said softly, 'Hell's teeth. I am to relieve Thomas Her-rick at Malta.' He examined his feelings. He should be happy to see the man who was his best friend. After the court of enquiry into Valentine Keen's behaviour, when only Bolitho's word had prevented a court-martial, he was not so certain. Deep in his heart Bolitho knew Herrick had been in the right. Would I have twisted the rules in his place? The question had never been answered.

Adam eyed him gravely. 'But first you sail for England, Uncle.' He forced a grin. 'With me.'

Bolitho took the envelope from him and slit it open. It was strange that of all his people who were dear to him, only Adam had ever met the famous Nelson, had carried more despatches from him in his brig Firefly than anybody.

The new squadron would rest and take on victuals at Gibraltar. Nelson had written in his strange sloping hand, 'Doubtless the care and attention of English Harbour will have left much to complain on!' Was there anything he did not know about?

Bolitho was to be released from his command for a brief visit to their Lordships of Admiralty. The letter ended with the barb Nelson so enjoyed. 'There you may discover how well they fight their wars with words and paper instead of ordnance and good steel…'

It was true that the squadron could do with fresh victualling and some spare spars. The blockade was likely to be a lengthy one. The French must return to port, if only to await reinforcements from their Spanish ally. One of which would likely be the Intrepido.

Bolitho glanced at the pile of charts on a nearby table. The vastness of a great ocean which could hide or swallow a fleet with ease. Thank God Catherine had written her letter from England, otherwise he would have been fretting that she had been taken by the enemy.

He looked at Adam and saw the sudden apprehension in his eyes.

Bolitho said to the others, 'Please leave us a while.' He touched Jenour's arm. 'Delve through the rest of the pile, Stephen. I am afraid I have come to rely too much on you.'

The door closed behind them and Adam said quietly, 'That was kindly done, Uncle. The flag lieutenant is another one caught in your spell.'

Bolitho asked,'What is wrong?'

Adam stood up and crossed to the stern windows. How like his father, Bolitho thought. Hugh would have been proud of him this day, to see him in command of his own ship.

'I know you hate deceit, Uncle.'

'So?'

'I once fought a stupid duel over yonder.'

'I've not forgotten, Adam.'

He shifted his feet on the checkered canvas deck. 'Is it true what they're saying?'

'I expect so. Some of it anyway.'

Adam turned, his hair shining in the sunlight. 'Is it what you want?'

Bolitho nodded. 'I will see that no harm is done to you, Adam. You have been hurt enough, if not by your family then because of it.'

Adam's chin lifted. 'I shall be all right, Uncle. Lord Nelson said to me that England needs all her sons now -'

Bolitho stared. His father had said those same words when he had given him the old sword, which should have been Hugh's but for his disgrace. It was uncanny.

Adam continued, 'If one man can love another, then you have mine, Uncle. You know that already, but you may wish to remember it when others turn against you, which they will. I do not know the lady, but then I do not really know the Lady Belinda.' He looked down, embarrassed. 'In God's name, I am out of my depth!'

Bolitho walked to the windows and stared hard at the nearest ship's motionless reflection.

'She has my heart, Adam. With her I am a man again. Without her I am like a ship denied sails.'

Adam faced him. 'I believe this call to London is for you to settle matters. To clear the air.'

'By denying the truth?'

'It is what I think, Uncle.'

He smiled sadly. 'So wise a head on so young a pair of shoulders.'

Adam shrugged, and appeared suddenly vulnerable. Like the fourteen-year old midshipman who had once walked all the way from his home in Penzance to join Bolitho's Hyperion after the death of his mother. A whore she might have been, but she had tried to care for the boy. And Hugh had known nothing about it, not until it was all too late.

Adam said, 'At least we will keep one another company. I have more despatches from Lord Nelson.' He eyed him steadily. 'I am to carry you back to the squadron when your affairs in London are settled.'

Who had decided that, Bolitho wondered? Nelson himself, getting his own back on those who despised his infatuation with Emma Hamilton, and showing them he had a kindred spirit? Or someone more highly placed, who would use family unity to make him change his mind? He could still not accept that he was going to see Catherine again so soon. Even the news of a temporary French breakout seemed unimportant by comparison.

He recalled the others to the cabin and said, 'I shall require you to remain here in my absence, Stephen.' He shook his head to cool down the protests and added, 'I need you in Hyperion; do you know what I am saying?'

He saw understanding clearing the disappointment from the lieutenant's eyes.

Bolitho said, 'An ally, if you like, someone who will send me word if anything untoward happens.'

He looked at Yovell. 'Help the flag lieutenant all you can.' He forced a smile. 'A rock in stormy seas, eh?'