Authors: Melissa McShane
“Elinor?” Hervey stuck his head into the room while simultaneously knocking. “We’ll be in Bermuda before nightfall. Captain wants you at Admiralty House with him in four hours.”
“Thank you, Stratford.” They were such good friends now that they made free of one another’s Christian names, though only in private—
and how strange
that the captain and I remain formal despite our friendship. I suppose it would be bad for discipline if I treated my commanding officer with such informality.
“I admit to being nervous. Admiral Durrant seems rather erratic. He may still decide my contribution is unnecessary.”
“That was a pretty decisive victory, Elinor. I think even the admiral would have trouble saying you didn’t pull your weight.”
“I hope you’re right.” Elinor closed her diary. “I may need new clothing soon. I tore and burned my gown during the battle, and my long-sleeved one is simply unbearable in this heat, which leaves me with one morning dress and my poor, unnecessary evening gown.”
Stratford pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “Well, there are plenty of ladies in Bermuda; they must get their clothes from someplace.”
“Or they make their own. I am a poor seamstress. I have always been grateful that my family could afford to pay others for that service, though I feel it is a terrible extravagance.”
“What’s a terrible extravagance?” Ramsay entered the room, put his hat on the table and ran both his hands through his hair. “If I had my way, there would be a Caribbean uniform that was nothing but cotton breeches and linen shirts.”
“We were also speaking of dress, Captain,” Elinor said, “because I fear I will have to sew my own, and I am terrible at it.”
“Oh, there are seamstresses in Bermuda. You think Admiral Durrant’s wife makes her own clothes? Hardly.”
“The Admiral is married?” Elinor covered her mouth as if she could hold back her astonishment.
“And well you may sound shocked. She’s a lovely woman and quite the hostess. The Admiral clearly has charms that are not on display to lowly captains and Scorchers of ambiguous status.”
“Must I go with you?”
Ramsay mock-glared at her. “Yes, you must, because I want Admiral Durrant to have to put a face to the destruction. He needs to be clear to whom he owes most of this victory. Otherwise
Athena
is nothing more than a particularly effective warship.”
“You flatter me, Captain.”
“It’s hardly flattery if it’s true.”
Beaumont flung the door open with more than necessary force. “I’ve Spoken with Admiralty House,” he said, “and they want you there now.”
Ramsay scowled. “They said four hours.”
“You can argue the point if you want. Just get another Speaker to relay it. They were unpleasantly testy.”
“Fine. Miss Pembroke, are you ready?”
“Will five minutes be too much of a delay?”
“Since I’m changing into my dress uniform, no. Mr. Hervey, wait here.”
Elinor was changed and ready before Ramsay, who finally emerged from his cubby looking elegant except for the scowl on his face. He picked up a packet of papers, tucked it inside his jacket, and said, “Let’s go.”
The Bounding chamber was, of course, unchanged from their first visit. The servants’ hall outside the chamber, however, was considerably noisier. Dark-skinned men in short trousers and loosely-woven shirts and women in bright-patterned skirts passed their little party in both directions, carrying stacks of linens or basins or sometimes nothing at all. They avoided Elinor’s eyes and stepped wide around Ramsay. The voices that had previously sounded like they were coming through water were clearer now, though Elinor still could not discover their source.
When they reached the entrance chamber, her question was somewhat answered: men in uniform wearing insignia of all ranks thronged the room in groups of two or three, seated on benches or standing and admiring the paintings decorating the walls. Their conversations sounded much like chattering geese gathered around a lake shore, each man honking away trying to be heard over everyone else.
One or two of the men glanced at Ramsay and Elinor, then turned away, unimpressed. Ramsay ignored them all and passed through the chamber into the series of windowless halls they’d seen before. Uniformed men, some carrying papers, passed them without acknowledging them, though a couple of them glanced at Elinor—to her surprise, they were admiring glances. It filled her with such confusion that she stopped paying attention to where they were going, and was startled to see the iron knobs and the door which Ramsay threw open without knocking.
This time, Admiral Durrant, Admiral Wood, and Sullyard were joined by two captains. One seemed to be Durrant’s contemporary, though as he was as weathered as the admiral, it was impossible to guess his true age. The other was a younger man perhaps half a decade older than Ramsay, with blond hair that hung loose around his face and an expression so blank it had to be intentional.
Durrant, seated at the head of the table, made no game of pretending not to see Ramsay this time. “Good afternoon, Captain,” he said, sounding as if the words were being wrung out of him. “Your report.”
Sullyard came forward, his eyes constantly flicking toward Elinor, and accepted the packet Ramsay handed him. Durrant took it from Sullyard, snapped the wax seal and unfolded it. He read, lips moving slightly, while the men around him stood and shifted. Wood looked uncomfortable, but Elinor judged it was nervous rather than physical discomfort; the two strangers looked as if they were trying to read over Durrant’s shoulder without appearing to do so. Elinor resolutely avoided looking at Sullyard. Ramsay was as collected and indifferent to the delay as ever. She shifted from one foot to the other and wished her shoes were more comfortable.
“Interesting,” Durrant said, squaring the papers in front of him. “And quite the coincidence, happening upon the pirate squadron on your way to take up your post.”
“Yes, sir. It was a harrowing experience.”
“I can imagine. I’m not pleased you weren’t able to bring that damned Bexley in alive.”
“We didn’t anticipate that he would take his own life rather than be captured, sir. I take responsibility for that.”
“You should.” Durrant shifted his gaze to Elinor, startling her. “Four ships, young lady.”
“Yes, sir,” Elinor said, wondering what line of questioning he intended to pursue.
“Luck, I suppose. You never having been in combat before.”
“No, sir. That is, it was not luck, sir.”
“Impossible,” said the older man. “No Scorcher could possibly destroy four sloops in an hour.”
“I beg your pardon,” Elinor said, “but we have not been introduced, Captain…?”
“Vaughan,” the man said, spitting the word at her.
“Captain Vaughan, I feel certain you do not intend to call either Captain Ramsay or myself a liar. I realize you are unfamiliar with the capacities of an Extraordinary Scorcher, but I assure you destroying four sloops in—did you say an hour? Time does fly when you are in battle—is certainly not beyond my abilities.” She moved her foot away from Ramsay’s boot, but he made no motion to step on it.
“No one’s questioning your veracity,” Admiral Wood said. “It seems as though you made good use of your resources and exploited the pirates’ ignorance.” It sounded like a prepared speech, but one Elinor hoped might be effective. Wood might be only a Colonial admiral, but she thought he was an important ally.
“I believe they were as surprised as we were,” Ramsay said, “since I’m sure they thought that channel would be unoccupied.”
Durrant scowled at him. Elinor bit her lip to hold back a smile. “You may have had a tactical advantage,” he said, “but it was still luck that you happened upon them.”
“That’s true of many encounters with the pirates, sir.”
“Possibly.” Durrant folded the paper again and handed it to Sullyard without looking at him. “Congratulations,” he ground out, “on your success.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Thank you, Admiral Durrant,” Elinor couldn’t help adding. Durrant glared at both of them.
“I’ll have new orders for you in a few days, Captain Ramsay, after we’ve reassessed the situation. In the meantime, keep your men under control; this isn’t Portsmouth. Vaughan, Crawford, the same goes for you. Now, all of you, dismissed.”
Elinor allowed Ramsay to hold the door for her, then took his arm again. “Is that—” she began.
“Not here, Miss Pembroke.”
“Ramsay!” They turned to see the other captains following close behind. Vaughan pushed past them without a word, but the other man, Crawford, strolled up to join them. “Quite the victory, eh?”
“I was merely doing my duty, Crawford,” Ramsay said, and now tension echoed in his voice, and his muscles were tight beneath her fingers.
“Oh, that we could all aspire to do our duty with such success as you’ve found,” Crawford said. He looked briefly at Elinor and dismissed her. “I believe if we threw you into a shit-heap you’d come up covered in diamonds.”
“Please watch your language in front of the lady,” Ramsay said.
“My apologies, miss. I assumed you’d be accustomed to it, being surrounded by sailors all day. I wonder you’re able to keep even a shred of… gentility.”
Elinor squeezed Ramsay’s arm, hard. “I feel honored to serve with such brave men as are aboard
Athena
,” she said. “The First Lord did say it was the best frigate in the Navy.”
Crawford’s smile vanished. “Quite the compliment.”
“Oh, no, I believe he was simply being accurate. He did not strike me as someone who gives compliments.”
“Crawford, good to see you again, but I have things to do,” Ramsay said, smoothly cutting off whatever Crawford was about to say. “Miss Pembroke?”
Elinor had to trot to keep up with him. “Captain, do slow down!”
“Not if there’s any chance Crawford might try to follow us. Mr. Hervey, come.”
“But I was enjoying—”
“
Later
, Miss Pembroke. There’s no love lost between me and Crawford, and much as I was enjoying your little battle of wits, which by the way he was not equipped to fight, I’d rather not give him any more grounds to hate me than he already thinks he has.” He handed her off to Stratford and pushed open the door to the Bounding chamber. “Back to the ship.”
But Stratford, when the white walls of
Athena
’s Bounding chamber rose up around them, gripped Elinor’s arm before she could exit. “It was over a woman,” he said in a low voice. “They both courted her and the captain won her heart.”
“But…is he married, then?”
“No. She cried off a month after they were engaged. She’s married to some rich Cit now. Captain never talks about it, but then why would he? But it’s why Captain Crawford hates him.” He shooed her out of the chamber and shut the door. Elinor stood looking at it. How long ago had that been? He certainly didn’t act like a man who had been crossed in love, not that she would know what that looked like.
The door banged open, startling her. “And now we wait to see whether Durrant has learned to use us more efficiently,” Ramsay said, tucking his hat under his arm. “We have probably given Wood more leverage, which is excellent. He’s a good man, if a trifle too aware of his subordinate status.”
“Is he a subordinate, then? I believed him to be a high-ranking officer in the Colonial fleet, given his comments.”
“Oh, yes, he’s the admiral’s American counterpart. He ought to be Admiral Durrant’s equal, but the admiral being who he is, this pirate hunt has become more a British-led operation aided by our Colonial forces. Wood’s a smart man, though, and you can be certain he’s maneuvering the admiral to make better use of your talent.”
He held the door of the great cabin open, and the smell of roast pork mingled with the sweeter, greener aroma of fresh peas greeted them. “Supper, and just in time. Meeting Crawford always makes me ravenous.”
Midshipman St. Maur escorted Elinor into Hamilton the next morning, Stratford being occupied with ship’s business. Four of
Athena’s
crew rowed them across the Great Sound between Ireland Island and what Elinor couldn’t help thinking of as the mainland. It was a long journey for the ship’s boat, and Elinor felt some pity for the men, though they seemed to think nothing of it.
They hired an ancient carriage to take them the rest of the way, a poorly sprung contraption that smelled of damp, rotting wood, with tattered leather and seat cushions hard as rock. It was a silent ride, with both of them looking out the carriage windows, Elinor because she was fascinated with the sheer variety of plants and trees in all shades of vibrant green, St. Maur because he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. After interacting with him some half a dozen times on the Atlantic voyage, Elinor had realized the midshipman was in the throes of an adolescent passion, which changed her feelings about him from annoyance to amused pity. She regretted it, a little, that Ramsay had thrown them together today, but perhaps an increased proximity would help the young man overcome his unrequited love.
Hamilton was a beautiful town nestled into the curve of one of the blue and sand-gold bays that Elinor was beginning, to her dismay, to take for granted. The buildings were tropical, blindingly white stone with large windows to receive the breeze blowing off the harbor, but the construction, the wide streets laid out in straight lines, the regularity of the roofs and doors, were all modern British design. It was a young, exuberant, thriving town, its streets thronged with men and women, mostly colored, and Elinor had to stop herself staring at them, wondering how many were free and how many slave.