Honour This Day

She saw his eyes and said, 'Mrs Robbins has taken good care of me.'

Bolitho said, 'There is my house in Falmouth.' Instantly he saw the reluctance, the unspoken protest, and added, 'I know, my lovely Catherine. You will wait until -'

She nodded. 'Until you carry me there as your kept woman!' She tried to laugh but added huskily, 'For that is what they will say.'

They stood holding hands and facing each other for a full minute.

Then she said, 'And I'm not lovely. Only in your eyes, dearest of men.'

He said, 'I want you.' They walked to the window and Bolitho realised that he had not left the house since that night. 'If I cannot marry you -'

She put her fingers on his mouth. 'Enough of that. Do you think I care? I will be what you wish me to be. But I shall always love you, be your tiger if others try to harm you.'

A servant tapped on the door and entered with a small silver salver. On it was a sealed envelope with the familiar Admiralty crest. Bolitho took it, felt her eyes on him as he slit it open.

'I have to see Sir Owen Godschale tomorrow.'

She nodded. 'Orders then.'

'I expect so.' He caught her in his arms. 'It is inevitable.'

T know it. The thought of losing you -'

Bolitho considered her being alone. He must do something.

She said, 'I keep thinking, we have another day, one more night.' She ran her hands up to his shoulders and to his face. 'It is all I care for.'

He said, 'Before I leave -'

She touched his mouth again. 'I know what you are trying to say. And yes, dearest Richard, I want you to love me like you did in Antigua, and all that rime ago here in London. I told you once that you needed to be loved. I am the one to give it to you.'

Mrs Robbins looked in at them. 'Beg pardon, Sir Richard.' Her eyes seemed to measure the distance between them. 'But yer nephew is 'ere.' She relented slightly. 'You're lookin' fair an' bright, m'lady!'

Catherine smiled gravely. 'Please, Mrs Robbins. Do not use that title.' She looked steadily at Bolitho. 'I have no use for it now.'

Mrs Robbins, or 'Ma' as Allday called her, wandered slowly down the stairway and saw Adam tidying his unruly black hair ia front of a looking-glass.

It was a rum do, she thought. God, everyone in the kitchen was talking about it. It had been bad enough for Elsie, the upstairs maid, when her precious drummer-boy had gone off with a blackie in the West Indies. Not what you expected from the quality; although old Lord Browne had been one for the ladies before he passed on. Then she thought of Bolitho's expression when she had given him the earrings she had rescued from the filthy gown. There was a whole lot more to this than people realised.

She nodded to Adam.' 'E'll be down in a moment, sir.'

Adam smiled. It was strange, he thought. He had always loved his uncle more than any man. But until now he had never envied him.

Admiral Sir Owen Godschale received Bolitho immediately upon his arrival. Bolitho had the impression that he had cut short another interview, perhaps to get this meeting over and done with without further delay.

'I have received intelligence that the French fleet outran Lord Nelson's ships. Whether he can still call them to battle is doubtful. It seems unlikely that Villeneuve will be willing to fight until he has combined forces with the Spaniards.'

Bolitho stared at the admiral's huge map. So the French were still at sea but could not remain so for long. Nelson must have believed the enemy's intention was to attack British possessions and bases in the Caribbean. Or was it merely one great exercise in strength? The French had fine ships, but they had been sealed up in harbour by an effective blockade. Villeneuve was too experienced to make an attack up the English Channel, to pave the way for Napoleon's armies, with ships and men whose skills and strength had been sapped by inactivity.

Godschale said bluntly, 'So I want you to hoist your flag again and join forces with the Maltese squadron.'

'But I understood that Rear-Admiral Herrick was to be relieved?'

Godschale looked at his map. 'We need every ship where she can do the most good. I have sent orders today by courier-brig to Herrick's command.' He eyed him impassively. 'You know him, of course.'

'Very well.'

'So it would appear that the reception I had planned must now be postponed, Sir Richard. Until quieter times, eh?'

Their eyes met. 'Would I have been invited to attend alone, Sir Owen?' He spoke calmly but the edge was clear in his voice.

'Under the circumstances I think that would have been preferred, yes.'

Bolitho smiled. Then under those same circumstances I am glad it is postponed.'

'I resent your damned attitude, sir!'

Bolitho faced his bluff. 'One day, Sir Owen, you may have cause to remember this disgraceful conspiracy. The last time we met you told me that Nelson was not above being wrong. And neither, sir, are you! And should you too fall from grace you will most certainly discover who your true friends are!' He strode from the room, and heard the admiral slam a door behind him like a thunderclap.

Bolitho was still angry when he reached the house. Until he saw Catherine speaking with Adam, and heard a familiar voice from the adjoining study.

Then Allday stepped out of the passageway which led from the kitchen, his jaw still working on some food. They were all staring at him.

Bolitho said, 'I am to return to the squadron as soon as is convenient.'

A shadow fell across the passage, and Captain Valentine Keen stepped into the light.

Bolitho clasped his hands. 'Val! This is a miracle!'

Beyond his friend he saw the girl Zenoria, exactly as he had remembered her. Both of them were travel-stained, and Keen explained, 'We have been on the road for two days. We were already on our way back from Cornwall and by a stroke of fate we met with the courier at a small inn where he was changing his mount.'

Fate. That word. Bolitho said, 'I don't understand.' He saw the girl's face as she walked up to him and held him, while he kissed her on the cheek. Something more had happened.

Keen said, 'I am to be your flag captain, Sir Richard.' He gave Zenoria a despairing glance. 'I was asked. It seemed right.' He handed Bolitho a letter. 'Captain Haven is under arrest. The day after you left in Firefly he attacked another officer and attempted to kill him.' He watched Bolitho's face. 'The commodore at Gibraltar awaits your orders.'

Bolitho sat down while Catherine stood beside him, her hand on his shoulder.

Bolitho looked up at her. My tiger. That poor, wretched man had broken under the strain. There was nothing much in the letter, but Bolitho knew the other officer must be Parris. He at least was alive.

Keen looked from one to the other. 'I was about to suggest that your lady might care to share my home with Zenoria and my sister until we return.'

Bolitho clasped Catherine's hand; he could tell from the way the dark-haired girl from Cornwall was looking at her that it was a perfect arrangement. God alone knew they both had plenty in common.

Keen had rescued Zenoria from the transport ship Orontes after she had been wrongly charged and convicted of attempted murder. She had been trying to defend herself from being raped. Transportation to the penal colony in New South Wales; and she had been innocent. Keen had boarded the transport and cut her down when she was about to be flogged at the ship's master's command. She had taken one blow across her naked back before Keen had stopped the torment. Bolitho knew she would carry the scar all her life. It made him go cold to realise that the same fate could have been thrown at Catherine, but for different reasons. Jealousy and greed were pitiless enemies.