The Victory (32 page)

*

Lucy was exercising her chestnuts in the Park early one
bright, cold morning in April, with Parslow up beside her,
when she was hailed from the footpath by Admiral Scorton
who, like her, had never broken himself of the habit of taking
his exercise early.

‘
Ha! There you are!' he called. 'Made sure I'd find you
here, m'dear. Something in particular to say to you.’

Lucy pulled up, and Parslow stepped down to take the
leaders' heads.

‘Well, Admiral?' she said cordially.

Scorton eyed the horses cautiously. 'Don't think your
beasts'll stand long enough for what I've got to tell you. More
than a five-minute chat.'

‘
Jump up, then, and we'll take a circuit or two,' Lucy
offered. 'Parslow won't mind waiting.'

‘
Sooner you walked with me, while he takes the drive,' the
admiral said frankly. 'Never get seasick, except in sportin'
carriages.’

Lucy laughed, wound the reins, and held out a hand to
him. 'Whatever you say, Admiral. Jump me down, and I'll
take your arm with pleasure. Keep them moving, Parslow,
and pick me up at the gate, if you don't pass me first'.

The horses went off at a fine pace, and Lucy tucked her
hand under the admiral's arm and matched her step to his as
they walked after them.

‘
Ha,' he said, 'that's good! You've a fine way, m'dear, of
pacin' along, that makes all very comfortable. My dear wife was just the same, but some young women take such mimsy
little steps, there's no walkin' with them, unless it's round and
round a sopha! They teeter along like a rat on a wet cable. It
quite makes one nervous to be alongside 'em.'

‘
Quite right, Admiral. But what was it you wanted to tell
me?'

‘
Oh, ah, yes! News, m'dear, of a vast upheaval at the Admiralty. It will be all over Town in two shakes, but I
thought you'd like to be first with it. Melville's resigned.'

‘Melville? The First Lord?'

‘
This morning. Nothing else to be done. Royal Commis
sion, you see, goin' over the Naval Treasury books, uncovered
what they call "irregularities" while he was Treasurer.'

‘But that was years ago,' said Lucy.

‘
Oh, quite; and there was nothin' dishonest about it.
Merely an unauthorised speculation. But Melville, you see,
wouldn't trouble himself to be civil to the Commissioners
when they interviewed him. Cursed 'em for wastin' his time,
so of course they went after him like Spanish luggers. Bound
to turn up somethin' if they only looked long enough. There
never was a public servant yet who was beyond reproach, you
know.'

‘Except Pitt, perhaps,' Lucy said drily. 'The incorruptible.'

‘
Ah well, that's where it is, you see,' said Scorton. 'It's Pitt
they're attackin' really. Friend of Melville's. Daring Pitt to
defend him, and so on. It's all politics, m'dear,, all politics. I
thank God I'm a simple sailor.'

‘
I wonder who Pitt will find to replace him,' Lucy said
thoughtfully.

Scorton pressed her arm in triumph. 'I think I can tell you.
It won't be generally known yet, but when you think of it, it's
the only sensible choice. Senior admiral; and after all, he's
been Melville's confidential advisor, and Pitt's, these two
years.’

Lucy wrinkled her brow. 'You're talking of yourself?’

Scorton chuckled. 'You flatter me, m'dear! Oh, I've been
called in once or twice, it's true, when I've had somethin'
particular to say, but Middleton's kept his finger on the pulse
all along, and there can't be a better man in the present
crisis.'

‘
Sir Charles Middleton? But surely he retired years ago? I
didn't even know he was still alive. He must be — oh, any
age!'

‘
Seventy-eight, but as hale and hearty as an oak tree. Well,
I know he hasn't been to sea in an age, but that's not the be-
all and end-all! Officers on the spot don't like havin' their
decisions made for 'em anyway. Middleton understands the
workings of the navy better than any man alive. He got the
navy back on its feet when he was Comptroller durin' the
American war, and with three-quarters of our ships in need of
overhaul, and others rotting at their moorings when we
desperately need 'em at sea, he's the man for the job all right.
You'll see.'

‘
Well, I suppose you know best,' Lucy said doubtfully, 'but
I'd have thought you were a much more likely candidate.'

‘
Haven't got the brains, m'dear,' Scorton said cheerfully. 'I
can sail a ship — none better, though I say it m'self. But I
haven't enough wits to bless myself — never did have. What
do you think of this business of Villynoove, by the by? Escapes
from Toulon, appears outside Cadiz harbour with nineteen of
the line, calls out the Spaniards, and disappears again.'

‘I think it's a pity Admiral Nelson ever let him get out of
Toulon. What on earth is a blockade for, if not to keep the
ships in harbour?'

‘
Mediterranean's a big sea,' Scorton said apologetically, ‘and Toulon's a bad station to watch. Point is, where's this
Villy feller gone with his combined fleet? Twenty-five enemy
ships — nasty thing to lose, you know.'

‘
I can't imagine,' Lucy said obediently. 'What's your opin
ion, Admiral?'

‘
It's my belief they've gone to the West Indies. Where else
should they have gone? And that other Frenchy's there ...
what's his name? Out of Rochefort?'

‘Missiessy,' Lucy supplied.

‘
That's right. Damn' silly name. Taken Dominica and St
Lucia already, from what we hear. I think this Villynoove's
gone to join him. Take a few of our island possessions, and if
it tempts our ships away from the Brest blockade, all the
better.'

‘
But would we be so silly as to leave the Channel un
defended?'

‘
No, but it's just the kind of damn' fool notion Boney
would think up. Grand, military sort of scheme. Diversionary tactics. Not a sailor, you see,' he explained simply. 'After all,
he's had all those troops waitin' in the Channel ports for
months. He's got to make a push to invade us soon, or he's
goin' to look a fool with his own people. He's up to somethin' all right, and we'll need every ship and every man out there to
fox him.' He glanced down at Lucy, and seeing her troubled
expression said, 'Talking too much. Don't you worry, m'dear.
Things never turn out to be as bad as anyone thinks they will.
Take an old man's word for it.'

‘
Which old man is that, Admiral?' Lucy asked innocently,
and Scorton laughed.

‘
That's my naughty puss! Heard from young Captain
Whatsisname recently? Cornwallis's last report spoke hand
somely of him. No easy job, inshore squadron at Brest.’

*

On 27 April, Chetwyn and Robert drove to Upper Grosvenor
Street for a long visit. The hunting was over, and Robert was
eager for more social pursuits than Wolvercote could offer,
and had persuaded his patron and mentor that it would be a
great pity to miss the best of the Season.

They arrived to find the house in an ordered confusion,
and leaving Robert in the breakfast parlour, Chetwyn ran
upstairs to Lucy's chamber, where she and Docwra were
packing her trunks.

‘
Lucy! What's going on? Hicks says you're going away
somewhere. Going away at the height of the Season? It must
be something serious.’

Lucy turned from sorting through her glove-box and
frowned at him. 'Of course it's serious. What are you doing
here, if you don't think it's serious?'

‘
We've come up for the plays and balls,' Chetwyn said
mildly. 'Do put that box away and talk to me properly.'

‘
You mean you don't know about the Toulon fleet? You
haven't come to safeguard your investments? 'Change is in a turmoil, Consols have plummeted, the Government has been
on the brink of resigning five times, and you've come to Town
for the theatres?'

‘
We've been very busy at Wolvercote,' Chetwyn said with
dignity, sitting on the edge of her bed. 'Polly, Minnie and
Rosamund have had three fearful colds in the head, and we've had to look after Roland all day to keep him from
catching them. We took him out hunting last week — only to
the first draw, but he was so proud, and behaved like a little
gentleman. He's going to be a fine horseman. What's the
trouble, then?'

‘
A letter has come from one of our spies in Paris,' Lucy
said. 'It seems Villeneuve's almost certainly gone to the West
Indies to join up with Missiessy, and Ganteaume's squadron
is making preparations for departure, with eighteen thousand
men on board.’

Chetwyn shrugged. 'It doesn't seem to me to be cause for
immediate concern. The situation is no different from
before.'

‘
The difference is that there's a combined fleet of thirty
ships loose in the Atlantic, and no-one knows for certain
where it is. Cochrane's been sent in pursuit with six of the
line, but every other ship is already being used on blockade
service, and can hardly be spared. And nobody knows where
Nelson and his squadron are. They haven't been seen for
three weeks, and there are letters in the papers about the navy
letting the country down.’

Chetwyn picked at the fringe of the counterpane. 'Harsh
words.'

‘
As dear old Admiral Scorton says, it's all politics. He warned me about this weeks ago, the clever old creature,
guessed the Combined had gone to the West Indies. But he
thinks it's all a prelude to a concerted attempt at invasion.'

‘
Well, that would be serious, I agree. But where exactly are
you going? You can't be fleeing London for fear of Boney's
imminent arrival. I'd back you to man the barricades with the
best of them.’

Lucy smiled for the first time. 'Thank you for your good
opinion. No, of course I'm not fleeing.' She hesitated. He was sitting and talking with her so companionably she didn't want
to spoil his mood by introducing the forbidden subject.

‘So, where are you going?' he prompted.

‘
To Plymouth,' she said. She eyed him apologetically. 'I
have to be nearer than London. I can't bear just to sit here
when something is going to happen at any moment. I want to
be on hand, as close as I can be, in case ... in case there is
news.’