The Victory (34 page)

‘
What is going on, Lucy?' John Anstey asked. 'Have you
any better information than I could get in London? I have to
tell you that Nelson's reputation is very low. Everyone seems to think he has been fooled by the French and gone to Egypt.
Lady Bessborough said to me yesterday that he must think
the French grow there.’

Lucy laughed. 'I hope you warned little John not to repeat
such things in Collingwood's ship! The admiral won't hear a
word against his friend. He thinks Nelson must be hard on
Villeneuve's heels.'

‘
You think Villeneuve has definitely gone to the West
Indies?'

‘
Collingwood does. He also believes that the French went
to the West Indies purely to draw off our ships from the
Channel, so we had better hope that Nelson finds Villeneuve
and defeats him, or we shall surely have a battle closer to
home.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘
Collingwood thinks that Villeneuve and Missiessy will bring
their ships straight back to attack the Brest blockade so that
Ganteaume can get out; and there's no-one in the world
guesses better what the French are about than Collingwood.’

 
‘
I hope little John will be safe,' Anstey said. 'Have you any
idea where he will be going?'

‘
It was to have been the West Indies, but I think it's more
likely now to be Cadiz. The Dons are fitting out ships as hard
as they can go. Blockade duty — dull, perhaps, but good
training. But tell me the London news. Have you seen
anything of Chetwyn?’

Anstey eyed her curiously. 'One can hardly get away from
him — he seems to go everywhere! I never knew him so
sociable. There's a great change come over him in the last
year or so, hasn't there?'

‘
All to the good,' Lucy said shortly. 'He was growing very
strange and dour, but since Weston went back to sea, he
seems to have become cheerful again.'

‘
Is that what it is?' said Anstey neutrally, and helped
himself to some of the excellent West Country mutton before asking, 'What do you think of this young friend of his?’

 
‘
Robert? Oh, he's well enough, I suppose. A pleasantly-
behaved boy. He seems to be very fond of my children, for
some reason.'

‘
I met his mother in Town last week. She seems to be in
ecstasies over his friendship with Aylesbury. Introducing him
into the best circles and so on, she said.'

‘
Thank God I left Town before she arrived,' Lucy said
fervently. 'I loathe the woman. I suppose she's installed
herself in my house?'

‘
Yes.' He reached for the caper sauce, and placed a spoon
ful with great deliberation on the edge of his plate. 'It's
fortunate, really, that she has, since you've left. Otherwise
they'd be there on their own.’

Lucy frowned. 'Why shouldn't they be? You don't think
they'd break the furniture, or burn the place down, do you?'

‘
No, of course not,' Anstey said hastily, and changed the
subject. 'How long are you meaning to stay in Plymouth?
Shall you be coming to Yorkshire in the summer? You'll
hardly believe it, but your brother tells me the new stables at Twelvetrees are going to be finished in time for race-week.'

‘You're right,' Lucy laughed. 'I don't believe it.’

*

When Collingwood and Anstey had both left, Plymouth
became a lonely place, filled, as Chetwyn had said, with the
wives of sea officers, waiting like Lucy, for news of their men;
yet not like her, for they had each other for company, and
their children around them. Most of them knew who she was,
but they held aloof from her, and she from them. Ship's
captains and their wives came mostly from the middle orders.
They made devoted couples, and, from the uncertainty of
their lives, tended to adhere to a strict moral code by way of
compensation. They did not approve of Lucy; she hardly
knew they existed.

Her patience was rewarded at the end of May. On the
morning of the 22nd, while she was eating her breakfast and
looking over the newspaper which the innkeeper of the
George acquired for her daily, Docwra came into the room in
a state of great excitement.

‘
Oh my lady, quick, quick, let me get your hat and pelisse.
He's coming, my lady!'

‘
What! How do you know?' Lucy was on her feet instantly.
There could be only one 'he' in their conversation.

‘
Parslow was exercising the horses along that straight bit of
road by the harbour, when a ship was signalled coming in,
and a shoreboatman there who knows him, told him it was
the
Nemesis.'

‘
Oh, thank God! Is he quite sure?'

‘
Yes, my lady. It seems everyone knows the
Nemesis,
her
bein' famous as the fastest ship in the service. Anyway,
Parslow came straight back here, and he's below now with the
horses turned round, so you can be there before she drops
anchor. Oh, pray God he can stay a while!’

In moments Lucy was running down the stairs, throwing
orders over her shoulder to Docwra who panted along behind
her. 'He may not have much time. Have fresh coffee ready, and bread and meat, and have them make up the fire in the
coffee room, in case his clothes need drying.’

Parslow was in the curricle at the door, and the chestnuts
were plunging against his restraining hand, sensing the
urgency in the air. No single moment had been wasted, and
Lucy was waiting at the steps when Weston came ashore. He
was looking tired and drawn, his face very brown, his hair too
long, straggling out of the ribbon with which he had tied it
back. For one instant he seemed unfamiliar, and she felt
absurdly shy; but then his face creased into a grin of aston
ished delight and she was in his arms.

‘
Lucy! Oh, my dearest, dearest girl! If you only knew how
often I've dreamed about this!’

Her arms were round him under his boat cloak, her face
against his shoulder. His clothes smelled of sour dampness,
his skin of salt air, and he was so thin, so thin! But he was her
Weston, and she closed her eyes against the painful rush of
joy at being close to him again.

‘
But what are you doing in Plymouth?' he asked, kissing
the top of her head, pressing his cheek against it, while she
simply clung, uncharacteristically silent. 'How did you know I
was coming?'

‘I didn't. I just hoped you might.'

‘
You've been waiting here at Plymouth just in case I put
in?' he asked, looking down at her, laughing. 'That must
mean you've been missing me after all! Oh, but I have no
moment to waste,' he cried, putting her away from him as he
remembered his duty. 'I must report at once to the port-
captain. I've urgent news, which I don't doubt he'll tell me I
must take post-haste to London.'

‘
Yes, I understand,' Lucy said, gesturing towards the
curricle as she hurried along beside him. 'See, I have horses waiting. I'm putting up at the George — it's the posting inn.
We'll drive there straight away.'

‘
Bless you,' he said, grateful for her rapid intelligence, that
wasted no time in exclamation or question. She was ready in
the driving-seat when he emerged from the office, a bag of
despatches under his arm, clapping his hat to his head as he
climbed up beside her. She nodded to Parslow to let go the
chestnuts' heads, and he leapt to his seat behind as the rig
passed him.

‘
I have food waiting for you at the inn,' Lucy said, frown
ing with concentration as she sprang her horses along the
harbour road. 'I thought you might be in a hurry.’

Weston, holding the side of the curricle with one hand and
his hat with the other, as they rattled and swayed over the
uneven surface, said, 'It was a kind thought, but I dare not
stay for anything. I have news for Their Lordships which
must be taken to them at once.'

‘
Yes, yes, I understand, but you will take a mouthful of
something while Parslow hires the chaise and sees the horses
put-to. No time will be wasted, I promise you. Oh Weston, I
am so glad to see you!’

In minutes they were at the George, and Lucy hurried
Weston into the coffee-room.

‘
My God,' he said, 'I'd forgotten how you drive! Oh, what a
glorious fire! And is that coffee I smell! Lucy, my darling, you
are the most wonderful woman in the world. I've dreamed of
real coffee almost as often as I've dreamt of you.’

Lucy was already pouring a cup for him. ‘Here's bread and
meat, too,' she said.

‘
Fresh bread! Oh, the heaven of it, after ship's biscuit! But I haven't time, I haven't time!' He gulped coffee, scalding his
mouth in his haste.

‘
Come, Weston, there's no need to injure yourself. We'll
take the tray in the chaise with us, if you really cannot spare
even a few minutes to eat.'

‘Did you say
we?'
He opened his eyes wide over the rim of
his cup.

‘
You don't think I'd just watch you drive off in a chaise without me, do you? We can be together all the way up to
London — and back, I suppose, if they send you back straight
away.'

‘I think they will,' he said. 'You see —'

‘
Ready sir!' Parslow said, poking his head round the door
at that instant. 'I've picked you the best horses they had.’

 
‘
I'm going too, Parslow,' Lucy said, as Weston bolted for
the door. 'Bring that tray along, will you?'

‘
Yes, my lady. You won't think of travelling back on your
own, will you, my lady?'

‘
No, I'll come back with the captain. Don't worry.'
Docwra was in the yard, where the post-boys were already
mounted, and handed Lucy a cloak-bag. 'Just a few things.
Parslow said you'd be going. Take care, my lady.'

‘I'll be back in a few days. Pass up the tray, will you?’

The door was clapped to, the boy sounded his horn, and
they were off, with no greater mishap than a
_.
sad spillage of
coffee as the chaise swung violently out of the inn yard.
‘Well, that was neatly contrived,' said Weston when they
regained the upright. 'Now I can enjoy my breakfast in peace.
Lord, I'm hungry for it, too!'