The Victory (8 page)

‘Will you divorce me?’

He answered without turning round — a single, neutral
word. 'No.'

‘Then — what shall I do?’

He said nothing for a long time, and then she saw his
shoulders rise and fall in a deep sigh, and he turned back to
her, reluctantly, wearily, as if taking up again a burden he
had long wished to walk away from.

‘
You are my wife,' he said. 'I will keep and protect you,
whatever happens, but I will not acknowledge your child. You
must go out of London, to some secluded place in the country
where your condition will not cause talk, and stay until the
baby is born. You may choose where to go — I will see to it
that you are comfortable. If the child lives, it must be sent
away somewhere to foster parents. Then you may resume
your usual pursuits.’

He had spoken in her direction, but without looking at her;
now his eyes focused on hers and he saw that she was pale and
that her lips trembled. This was not like Lucy, who was
always so strong, so practical; yet, he thought bitterly, she
does not feel it as I feel it. He was forty-six, but he felt old, so
old. 'All I ask is a little discretion,' he went on, but more
gently. 'Is that so much to ask? Have I not the right to a little
loyalty from you?'

‘
Yes — yes, of course,' she said faintly. She rose from her
seat, and put out a hesitant hand to him. 'I didn't under
stand. I didn't know. Chetwyn, I'm sorry.'

‘Sorry?' he said harshly.

‘
I didn't think you really cared about it,' she said help
lessly.

He looked at her in silence for a long time, thoughts and
memories passing in swift succession through his mind. He
remembered with sudden, vivid painfulness a happy time,
long ago, when he and Edward and Lucy had romped
together at a picnic on the bank of the Ouse; the sun glittered
on the water, and there was no shadow anywhere in the
world. How could they have come so far from that careless
place in so short a time?

‘
Oh Lucy,' he said, 'you're such a child.' He walked past
her to the door, and her hand faltered and dropped again to
her side. 'Let me know when you have made your arrange
ments,' he said, and left.

*

Lady Aylesbury was not at home to callers that morning. Hicks and the footman Ollett took it in turns to deny the
stream of visitors and to accept the calling-cards and scrib
bled notes that were left in their place. When the Captain
came home at two o'clock, Hicks admitted him and replied to
his query with the information that her ladyship was above,
and alone.

Weston ran up the stairs two at a time, and burst into the
bedchamber with such excitement that he did not remark
upon the unusual sight of Lucy lying on the daybed with a
handkerchief clutched in her fingers.

‘
I have it! I have my ship!' he cried out, crossing to her, fling
ing himself on his knees beside her and seizing her hands to
kiss them. 'They have given me a frigate! And not just any
frigate, my love, but the
Nemesis — a
thirty-six, and the
fastest in the service! She sails like a dream, and everyone
knows she's a lucky ship, too! She took a Spanish specie ship
singlehanded in the West Indies in '98 without a life lost, and
made her captain's fortune. That was Blackwell, of course —
you must have heard the story.’

He sat back on his heels, grinning with delight. 'When they
said they were giving me a frigate, I thought it was going to
be the poor old
Java,
and my heart was in my mouth, because
you know she was a Dutch prize, and she sails like a haystack,
apart from being so worn out she's only held together with
prayers. But I heard the secretaries talking about her just
before I went in, and I thought that was that. I even
wondered whether they were going to give me the
Java as a
punishment! But the
Nemesis!
Any frigate-captain in the fleet
would give his eye-teeth for her. And Moore was in the outer
office, too. You know, Graham Moore, the general's brother.
I told him when I came out that they'd given me
Nemesis,
and
he was wild, though of course he said everything proper. But I
could see he must have known she was commissioning, and
with his connections he'd have made sure he would get her
himself!’

It was necessary to say something. Lucy roused herself, and
if her smile was forced, Weston did not at once notice it. 'I'm
so very pleased for you,' she said. 'It's an honour to be
preferred over Captain Moore.'

‘
Well, I think it is, and do you know what, Lucy — I'm sure it was Collingwood spoke for me, to Lord St Vincent. Melville
hinted as much, that someone important had my interests at
heart. Isn't that like him? God bless him — he's a true friend! I am so lucky that you have such a connection.'

‘
I'm sure you would have done as well on your own merits,'
Lucy said, and now at last Weston noticed that she was not as enthusiastic as she ought to be.

He sat down on the edge of the daybed and took her hand,
and asked gently, 'What is it, my love? Were you hoping I
would get a shore appointment?'

‘
I'm very happy for you,' she said. 'I know you wanted a
frigate.'

‘
Well, I did,' he admitted. 'It isn't that I want to go away
from you — God knows, I have been happier this last year
than ever in my life — but we've got to beat this man Buona
parte. I'm a sea-officer, and it's only natural that I should
want to be out there in the thick of it. The sooner it's done,
the sooner I can come back to you,' he added uncertainly.

She forced a smile, and said, 'I am glad for you, truly. I
know what you are, and I wouldn't want you any different.
Do you think it would please me to have you stay at home for
my sake? I only wish I were a man and could go too.’

He leaned forward to brush the curls from her brow and
kiss it. Do you? I don't. I much prefer you as a woman, my
Lucy.'

‘
Being a woman has grave disadvantages,' she said in a low
voice. He regarded her with his head a little tilted.

‘
What is it, my love? Something's wrong. Has something
happened while I was out?'

‘My husband came to see me,' Lucy said.

He sat back. ‘Ah,' he said, 'I see.'

‘
No, you don't,' she said quickly. 'I
asked
him to come and
see me. I had something — something to tell him. Something
—' She stopped and swallowed. 'Weston, I am with child.' He
said nothing, nothing at all, and in terror she seized his hand
and cried, 'Weston do you hear me? I am with child! I am
going to have your child!’

His breath left him in a long sigh. 'Oh, Lucy,' he said, and
reaching forward he took her in his arms and held her against
him, and laid his cheek on the top of her head. She clung to
him, wondering if he were glad or sorry, knowing only that he
was offering her comfort. But when she released herself and
pushed him back so that she could look at him, she saw in his
face such an expression of wonder and joy that made her
breathless.

‘You're not angry?' she said.

‘Oh, my darling,' was all he said, but it was enough.

‘
I didn't want to tell you until you had your ship,' she went
on, 'because I thought you might refuse if you knew. And I
had to tell Chetwyn first. He is my husband, after all.’

Weston grimaced. 'Yes, I know that. You don't need to
remind me. But Lucy, this changes everything. You must see
that. I can't go away and leave you now. I'll go to the
Admiralty tomorrow and tell them that I decline the commission. They may still give me a staff appointment, and if they don't — well, there's always something one can do: the dock
yard or the victualling yard or something.'

‘
No, no,' Lucy cried, struggling up. 'You mustn't think of
it! Oh Weston, I am glad that you are pleased! I was so afraid
that you would look angry or disappointed, and then I don't know how I should have borne it. But you must not think of refusing your commission. That was the very reason I didn't tell you sooner. I shall be all right. I shan't be alone: I shall
have Docwra with me, and she saw me through the others
with no trouble. And then, when you come back ...' Her
voice faltered, but she went on quickly to forestall him. 'Don't
you see, it would make me feel quite dreadful if you were to
give up your ship. It would make me feel as though I had ...
deprived you.’

Weston laughed. 'Lucy, my dear, sweet simpleton, how can
you talk such nonsense? My darling, you are to have my child!
We are
to have a child, and do you think that I would go and
leave you now, of all times? No, my love, I shall go and see the
earl the first thing and talk it over with him. There must be a
divorce — it won't be pleasant, but there's no help for it —
and then you and I can be together as man and wife ...' His
voice trailed away as he saw her expression.

‘
No, Weston, you don't understand. Chetwyn doesn't want
to divorce me. He said he will look after me, but he won't
acknowledge the child. He said it must be sent away.’

All the time he had been talking, the layer upon layer of
complication, difficulty, and unpleasantness that the situation
entailed had been revealing themselves to Weston's imagination
in horribly vivid detail; and his initial joy at the thought
of their love bearing fruit was sinking under the realisation of
what it would really mean to both of them. But his love for
Lucy was absolute, and he knew, despite her usual appear
ance of brisk practicality, how childlike and vulnerable she was. She was putting on a brave show for him, but her eyes
were anxious.

‘
Don't worry, my darling. Everything is going to be all
right,' he said firmly. 'I shall go and see him, and make him
change his mind. Trust me, Lucy. I'll make everything all
right with your Chetwyn.’

 
White's and Brooks's, London's leading clubs, faced each
other across St James's Street. White's was known as the Tory club, and Brooks's as the Whig, but most gentlemen belonged
to both, and used either as the whim of the moment or the
excellence of the dinners dictated. Captain Weston, in search of the Earl of Aylesbury and not finding him at his lodgings, enquired for him in both establishments, and discovered him
at Brooks's, on the point of dining.