Burning Bright (8 page)

“Tomorrow,” Elinor said, feeling certainty return. She had only to pack her clothing and bid farewell to Selina—why
had
her sister never appeared at the ball?—and, she supposed, tell her father she was leaving. The temptation to simply leave him a note was profound, but she refused to be a coward any longer.

“Excellent. Fortunate all around you came today, Miss Pembroke. The need for secrecy prohibits my putting you under the command of the Navy Board, as we do our Speaker corps, so instead I will assign you to Captain Ramsay. It is better, I think, that we keep you outside the chain of command. You will answer directly to him, though I expect you to treat the other officers with respect.”

The captain had come to full attention as Melville spoke, and almost before he was finished, said, “You want her to serve on
my
ship, my lord?”

“Do you have a problem with that, Ramsay?”

Captain Ramsay fixed his eyes on a point some five inches above Melville’s head. “Wouldn’t Miss Pembroke’s talent be better applied closer to home, sir?”

“I want those pirates dealt with. We need those American trade goods, and we need the merchant fleet to regain its confidence in us, after all those losses we’ve sustained. Let the ships of the line protect the Peninsular convoys. Unless you are telling me
Athena
is not up to the challenge?”

Ramsay shook his head. “No, sir.”

“You are already acquainted with the young lady, and you are the man on the spot. If I assign her to another ship, I will have to inform yet another man of the secret. I will already have to tell Admiral Durrant, and he will…at any rate, I think I need not tell you not to spread this around.”

“No, sir.”

“Very well. Your orders are what they were an hour ago—proceed west to join the fleet. Cover the shipping lanes, engage any enemies you meet, take prizes where you can and burn the rest.” He handed Ramsay a sealed packet of paper.

“Yes, sir.”

“And stop giving me monosyllables. The
Athena
is our newest ship and the fastest, and you have distinguished yourself by taking more prizes than any other man of your rank. You are the obvious choice. Dismissed, Captain, and…don’t warn your crew. We both know they will not be able to stay silent.”

Ramsay brought his gaze down to meet Melville’s eyes. “They won’t like that, sir. They’ll feel betrayed.”

“You may tell them you will have a special passenger, but that is all you will say until you are safely out of harbor. It’s regrettable, Captain, but I know you see the reason in it.”

Ramsay glanced at Elinor. “I do,” he said, but his neutral air had turned into something less friendly. Elinor’s heart sank. She’d prepared herself for the possibility the crew might not like her, but she’d hoped at least to have a captain who wanted her there. And he’d seemed so accepting of her plan, right up until it turned out he was a part of it.

“Thank you, Captain,” she said, and offered him her hand.

After a moment, he took it, but released her as quickly as good manners allowed and left the room.

“If you will give me your address, I will send a carriage for you tomorrow morning,” Melville said. “Pack lightly and sensibly; you will be responsible for your own dunnage. Ramsay knows his business and his officers will treat you with respect, but you should not expect them to neglect their duties to wait on you.”

“No, Lord Melville, and I am accustomed to doing for myself,” Elinor said.

“I hope you won’t regret this, Lord Melville,” Pentstemmon said.

Melville looked at Elinor. “So do I,” he said, and shook Elinor’s hand again. “Good luck, Miss Pembroke.”

Elinor curtsied to each of the admirals in turn, then found her own way out of the Admiralty Building and back through the courtyard to the street, where she waved down a carriage. Safely inside the hackney, she sat rigidly upright in the center of her seat, clenching her hands once more to keep them from shaking. “Wrathingham House,” she commanded, and the carriage lurched into motion. She would tell Selina first, swear her to secrecy, then return home and pack her belongings. She would not face her father until tomorrow morning, when it would be too late for him to stop her. It had nothing to do with fear.

In which Elinor embarks, literally, on her third path

ear Father,

Dear Sir,

Papa,

Father,

When you read this, I shall be beyond your reach.

She’d purchased a cheap trunk on her way back from Selina’s house, daring the shopkeeper to make an issue of it, and smuggled it up to her room in terror that someone might see her. Her success at keeping it all a secret seemed miraculous. Half an hour before dawn, she had stood outside the front door, waiting for the First Lord’s hackney and feeling grateful that the butler had no previously undiscovered talent that would let him see through the wood of the door. Now she clasped her hands in her lap as the hackney, black and anonymous and smelling a little of mildew, rattled along the cobblestones toward the docks. She sat well back and did not look out the windows, fearing notice even at this early hour despite the emptiness of the streets.

Halfway to Wrathingham House yesterday, she had realized that telling anyone, even Selina, what she intended made it likely she would be locked in her room until she agreed to give up her mad scheme. She’d pushed her relief to the back of her mind, told herself she was not being a coward, and kept herself perfectly composed during her visit with her sister, who had no more sinister reason for her absence from the ball than a sudden head cold.

Selina had listened indignantly to Elinor’s story of her encounter with Lord Huxley and their father’s demands. “He cannot believe you will submit to this plan,” she said. “Come to stay with me, dearest. You must know you will always have a home here.”

“I will remember that, but I do not think things have come to such a pass yet,” Elinor said, feeling horribly guilty at lying to her beloved sister. “I have not given up on finding another solution.”

I am not insensible of the fact that for my entire life, I was beneath your
notice—until I developed a talent that brought not only myself but you into prominence. How concerned were you for my happiness half a year ago, when I was still, in your eyes, nothing?

They were crossing the Thames now, its sickly stench flooding her nostrils, and Elinor covered her nose with her handkerchief and looked out across the wide river to watch the ships traveling downstream, around the curving banks to who knew what destination. None of them were Navy vessels, but that was the extent of her knowledge about ships. She was going to be in the way on board…
Athena
, Lord Melville had called the ship. She would do stupid things, and they would all resent her; this was the worst idea she had ever had and it wasn’t too late to turn around, was it? She could live with Selina, be her companion…her poor, dependent companion, doomed to face the same fate as if she’d remained at home. She tried breathing through her mouth, which made the smell only marginally better. She was not going back; nothing this future held could possibly be worse than what she was leaving behind.

But you are correct in one thing: I have only two paths ahead of me, even if I disobey you and refuse Lord Huxley’s offer. I must either marry, or remain dependent on you for the rest of my life. The first fills me with dread, the second with abhorrence. I have discovered a third path, and I intend to follow it.

They left the Thames, and its stench, behind, and entered a part of the city Elinor had never imagined she might visit. Spring had not come to these streets, which stank as badly as the river had. The buildings crowded together as if for company, but were in such a state of disrepair it seemed impossible anyone could bear to live in them, their roofs sagging and gapped where shingles were missing or broken, their windows cracked and patched with brown paper or stuffed with rags.

The streets here seemed to be in the same condition as the houses, for the carriage bounced more than usual as they passed through the district, though Elinor thought the driver was also driving faster than he had leaving her father’s house, as if afraid of what might happen were he stopped. It seemed impossible that this was the same London as the one she’d left behind, all those enormous buildings weighted down by history. She pushed the heavy hood of her cloak back; she’d worn it not for warmth but for anonymity, and aside from the dirty children who raced alongside, no one was paying any attention to her or her carriage right now. Plenty of time to be stifled when she reached the docks.

Don’t search for me; as I said, I am beyond your reach. If my departure causes you any pain, I apologize for it, though I think your pain will be more for your lost alliance than for your lost daughter. Believe me when I say this course of action is better for all of us; I gain a life of my choosing, and you lose an undutiful, rebellious daughter who would never be able to satisfy you. If you wish, you may give my love to mama and Amelia, for I do love my family, however my actions might imply otherwise. Farewell, and I hope someday you will be able to forgive me.

She’d posted a second letter to Selina, its contents more loving but equally uninformative. She was far more concerned about what Selina might think of her disappearance, and had struggled for several hours the previous day trying to decide how much to tell her so her imagination would not be tortured with possibilities. In the end, she had said simply she was going to travel, that she would be gone for some time, and Selina was not to worry about her—though she knew her sister would ignore that instruction.

The thought of Selina’s suffering made Elinor press her handkerchief to her eyes. She refused to cry. She would not enact Captain Ramsay any tragedies; he already didn’t like the idea of her presence aboard his ship, and she intended to give him no reasons to further regret the First Lord’s plan.

Ten minutes more brought the carriage back within sight and smell of the Thames, and Elinor leaned forward once more to see her destination. A forest of slim masts had sprung up ahead, their sails furled, and beyond them more ships moved past, these with sails puffed out to catch what little breeze there was. In the distance, the skeleton of an enormous ship sat in a cradle, swarming with tiny figures. Her anxiety faded, replaced by curiosity and the beginnings of excitement. These were the Deptford docks, and somewhere among these ships was the one she would call home for the foreseeable future.

She sat back and pulled her hood up, peering past its sides as the carriage turned to pass parallel to the small boats that served as transport between the ships nearer the center of the river and the shore. Men went past hauling burdens, singly or in pairs, carrying crates or rolling barrels or coiling lengths of rope or hauling any of dozens of objects whose purpose she couldn’t begin to guess. They shouted to one another in unintelligible accents, their voices blending with the cries of birds and the rumble of cargo being loaded by men who looked as if they could lift a ship out of water and bring it to the cargo instead. A good number of them wore little more than short, loose breeches, which both fascinated and embarrassed her. It now occurred to her that the seamen aboard
Athena
likely didn’t wear as many clothes as she was accustomed to, and they probably would not change their behavior to suit her sensibilities. She hadn’t even boarded the ship and already she was out of her depth.
Hah. A nautical metaphor.