Chapter Eighteen
A nna motioned the children closer. ‘I don’t like this,’ Allan told her.
‘That makes four of us,’ the sailor said cheerfully. ‘Miss, you tie a right good bandage.’
‘I’m discovering hidden talents,’ she replied, heartened by his calmness.
She longed for silence, wondering how nice it might be, if she survived to see her wedding, to listen to John breathing that calm sleep of the content and satisfied person. Something deep in her heart told her she could provide him with restful slumber.
The nautical dance of death that was a ship-to-ship action continued: dodge and parry, fire, and dodge again on their nimble but wounded ship, well-captained. How long could they survive?
‘Ah,’ the sailor said, alert now. ‘You hear that?’
‘Something else? What?’
‘There’s another ship nearby,’ he told her, listening intently.
‘Theirs or ours?’
‘We’ll know soon enough.’
They waited. The sailor closed his eyes. It touched her heart to think that he had stayed awake, or maybe even conscious, because he felt they needed him.
He opened his eyes later when the bombardment stopped. ‘We’ll be all right now. Don’t you worry,’ he said, then closed his eyes again with a relieved sigh.
She heard someone on the ladder. His face blackened by smoke from the carronades, the first lieutenant opened the door, peered in and smiled, teeth so white in a darkened face.
‘I’ll get you topside,’ he told Anna. ‘And I’ll get something better for Joey’s bare bum.
’ He looked closer at her ‘bandage’ and grinned.
‘I like the crocheted edging. Someone should suggest that to the Sick and Hurt Board.’
‘Really, sir!’ she exclaimed, but had to smile, despite all.
Topside was a tangle of rope and shell casings. To one side she saw a man covered entirely with bloody sailcloth, and looked away, saddened at the high cost of war.
‘We had a time of it, Miss Fontaine,’ Captain Carlisle said. He gestured to the tall man beside him, wearing an unfamiliar uniform. ‘Miss Fontaine, let me introduce Captain Dan Tyler, US Navy.’
‘How do ye, ma’am?’
‘We owe you a debt, sir.’
‘Indeed we do,’ Captain Carlisle echoed. ‘Miss Fontaine, if you will permit, I want you and the children on…on…’
‘The Hartford ,’ Captain Tyler said. ‘We harbour near Boston.’ He nodded to his Royal Navy counterpart. ‘Lately, we sail here, too.’ There was no mistaking his good humour. ‘Captain Carlisle, the Mediterranean does not belong to the Royal Navy.’
‘Can we not continue to Gibraltar on the Jaunty ?’ she asked.
‘Only if you wish to be towed behind her in our dinghy for safety,’ Captain Carlisle said.
‘Miss Fontaine, we’re in precarious shape.
I won’t endanger you three by keeping you aboard.
’ He nodded to his fellow in rank, if not nation any more.
‘Thank God Captain Tyler arrived to harry away the French.’
‘Very well, sir,’ she said, because there was no other answer.
‘We should meet up with Admiral Collingwood’s flagship along the way. I have asked Captain Tyler to leave you there with the sailor you so prettily bandaged.’
Anna couldn’t help a sigh, nearly certain that the news of her bandage was going to follow her everywhere. ‘Sir, it was all I had,’ she reminded him patiently.
‘Well, then… The Hartford will continue to shepherd us.’ Anna heard the relief. ‘For which I am grateful.’ And this was for Captain Tyler. ‘I owe peace of mind to you Yankees.’
She nodded. ‘We’ll get our luggage.’
‘We’ll help,’ Captain Tyler said. ‘Captain Carlisle is busy.’
He and two Jaunty crewmembers followed her down the companionway. ‘It was a near-run thing, Miss Fontaine,’ Captain Tyler said. ‘ La Guerre seems not to have gotten the message of Trafalgar.’
‘Which is…?’ she asked, curious about an American opinion of the war with Napoleon.
‘The Mediterranean doesn’t belong to the French.’
Why are you here? she wanted to ask, but decided to leave those concerns to diplomats. It was enough to be saved from a possibly sinking ship.
Anna retrieved another petticoat then closed her trunk. No sense in being missish about the matter. ‘Captain Tyler, since my patient is wearing my petticoat, look away, please.’
He took the hint, picked up her trunk and closed the door. She stepped into her petticoat as the Jaunty shifted in the water and then seemed to settle.
‘Smartly now, Miss Fontaine. I don’t like the way that felt,’ she heard from the other side of the door.
Trunk on his shoulder, Captain Tyler led Anna and her little ones to the main deck and then to the ship’s rail, where grappling hooks snugged the vessels together. His sailors carried their luggage across, then came back.
Anna turned to Captain Carlisle. ‘Thank you, sir.’
He bowed. ‘I wish I could have seen you to Gibraltar.’
‘The French made that hard,’ she replied. ‘Safe sailing, Captain.’
‘You, as well. Thank you again for doctoring my tar.’
Crossing from the Jaunty to the Hartford would have looked daunting to the Anna Fontaine of mere months ago; now, it was something she had to do, no argument.
Captain Tyler went first. Allan followed, scrambling down over the Hartford ’s railing.
Pru proceeded more cautiously, but with the same result.
Anna came last, resolutely keeping her eyes on Captain Tyler. She hesitated at the railing, but his hands on her waist neatly carried her over, setting her on the deck. She nodded her thanks, and stared back at the Jaunty , sobered by the damage.
‘I’m relieved we could render assistance,’ Captain Tyler said. ‘ La Guerre is here and there when we least expect her. Damn the French.’
Below-deck, he opened a door off a common area with a long table.
‘This is the wardroom. Captain Carlisle gave me his last coordinates for Admiral Collingwood’s flagship, which is closer than Gibraltar, if he is still there.
We’ll head that way first. Here’s my cabin.
’ He smiled. ‘I doubt you’ve slept much. Have a nap, courtesy of the US Navy.’
He lifted Allan and Pru into his hammock, and helped her to another foldaway canvas chair. Anna happily sank into it, thanked him, then closed her eyes.
She woke later to a light tap on the door. ‘We’ve made Admiral Collingwood’s flagship,’ Captain Tyler said. ‘Come up top.’
They followed Captain Tyler topside and looked up to see HMS Queen , gargantuan compared to Hartford and Jaunty .
He took a speaking trumpet from his lieutenant.
She scanned the officers on the quarterdeck and stopped, hand to her heart, to see Captain Beattie.
He tipped his hat to her and blew her a kiss, which didn’t go unnoticed by Captain Tyler.
‘He’s either a cheeky chap or your fiancé,’ he said, then raised the speaking trumpet. ‘Captain Daniel Tyler, United States Navy, of the Hartford out of Boston, hailing His Majesty’s Ship Queen . I request permission to discharge three English subjects.’
‘For what purpose, sir?’ came the reply from a man who looked infinitely grander than the Yankee captain.
‘To render them useful to Captain John Beattie, sir.’
Her ‘useful’ Captain exchanged a few words with the Queen ’s Captain. He bowed, took the speaking trumpet and raised it.
‘Send them to us smartly. Where away then, Captain?’
‘Sir, I will shadow HMS Jaunty to Gibraltar, if the Queen so desires. She was badly mauled in a fleet action by the French corvette La Guerre .’
The original captain took the speaking trumpet from John. ‘You do not claim the Jaunty as a prize of war?’
‘We are not at war, sir, not with you or the French. The Mediterranean is international water. My sole task is getting a pretty lady to a wedding.’
These Americans. Anna felt her face flame. She snatched the trumpet from him. ‘I have been informed by Captain Beattie that wedding licences have a time limit. So does my patience.’ She lowered the trumpet, wondering what she was turning into, in her brief association with two navies.
The laughter drifted across the water. ‘Come alongside as close as you can.’
‘Aye aye, Captain.’ Captain Tyler turned to her. ‘Ma’am, it’s been a pleasure to have you aboard.’
‘Now what?’ she asked, not wanting to know.
‘Watch.’ He winked at her. ‘I’ve never lost a soul yet.’
She held tight to Allan as Captain Tyler’s helmsman expertly manoeuvred the smaller ship close to the Queen . Ropes flew, loosely connecting the two ships. In another moment, a series of ropes shaped somewhat like a chair dropped down, lowered from a spar.
‘I can’t possibly do this,’ she whispered.
‘Then I’ll have to marry you,’ Dan Tyler said.
She glared at him and he chuckled. ‘Miss Fontaine, let me suggest that you put little Pru in first and seat Allan on her lap. I can guarantee you that my Royal Navy counterparts know what to do.’
Pru sat, even though her lip quivered. Anna kissed her cheek. ‘My darling girl, trust a little longer.’
Pru nodded, looped her arms through the rope, then grabbed Allan and closed her eyes. ‘You’re squeezing me too tight,’ he complained.
‘Don’t care,’ she told him. ‘I can’t swim!’
Up they went, guided by two sailors at the ropes. Anna held her breath until they reached the Queen’s railing above them, where practised hands pulled them up and over. She turned to Captain Tyler and held out her hand.
‘Thank you, sir. If ever I can render you a favour…’
The rope seat came down again. She looped her arms as Pru had done, and let Dan Tyler adjust the restraining rope across her waist.
‘I’m coming over, too, after they send the ropes back.’ He gave the rope a tug. ‘I want to meet your Captain Beattie.’
He signalled to the Queen and up Anna rose, too frightened to look down but determined not to embarrass the man who waited for her. She looked back at Dan Tyler, and saw him touch his hand to his heart.
Gazing back across the water to the mangled Jaunty , Anna bowed her head as the cost of war at sea settled into her heart and mind. She stared ahead at John.
‘Convenient, eh?’ she murmured.