Chapter Twenty-Six
M uch later—why did the officers drag out dinner in the wardroom?—they were finally about to make love when someone knocked at the door from the wardroom. ‘Ahoy, Captain! Captain Tyler is on deck.’
‘I could grumble,’ Anna’s husband said quietly. ‘I swear I could.’ He raised his voice. ‘Coming.’
‘I’ll be here when you return,’ she said, starting to rise.
He stopped her. ‘Don’t do a thing,’ he said.
‘I have a robe somewhere. Ah.’ He stood by the sleeping platform, looking down at himself.
‘Calm down, John,’ he muttered. After a minute, he put on his robe and padded from the cabin, looking as well-dressed as if he was.
She wished amnesia on any impressionable midshipmen standing the watch. She lay there, thinking of stories she would never share with anyone about her watery honeymoon.
She thought of that house waiting for her in Port Mahon, one where Admiral Collingwood had told her he seldom visited, wishing it were a second home for his family. So many hopes dashed, thanks to Napoleon and his imperial aspirations.
It didn’t bear thinking on, especially since John returned soon enough. He shrugged off his robe and sank down onto the sleeping platform again, gathering her close. ‘Let’s see, where were we?’ he asked in the dark.
I wish I knew , she thought. I am a convenience. I believe I want to be more. How?
Anna couldn’t fault his husbandly instincts. His own satisfaction meant hers as well. Later, as he drowsed beside her, his arms around her, she touched his face, which made him turn and kiss her fingers. ‘Mrs Beattie, thank you,’ he said.
She smiled to herself. It wasn’t a loverlike remark, but she was nothing if not an optimist. ‘You’re welcome, Captain Beattie,’ she teased, which made him laugh.
‘Am I insufferable?’ he asked.
‘Only a little. I want to know more about Port Mahon.’ Interesting how bedtime talk was so beguiling. She never would have expected that. ‘Will I like it?’ She chuckled. ‘Have I any choice?’
‘Spoken like a true Navy wife,’ he murmured, his voice sleepy. ‘A house on Menorca? Who knows?’
‘ Was that Captain Tyler?’
‘Aye. He wanted to warn me that La Guerre was seen sailing east towards Menorca. I thanked him nicely and reminded him that I have a new wife aboard.’
‘You didn’t!’
‘Certainly I did, madam.’ His voice changed, and she heard the captain in there somewhere. ‘He still gave me a lecture, telling me that Menorca is famous for many inlets and bays. I took his warning seriously. We’ll be watching for La Guerre . Hush now.’ He yawned. ‘I am tired.’
‘I can give you a little space, John.’
‘No. I like to hold you close. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘No,’ she said softly.
He sighed, and she smiled, knowing a contented sigh. In a moment his breathing was deep and regular. The Swallow might have been a sloop of war, but Anna Beattie felt only peace and rejoiced.
Morning came at six bells, which she decided was her favourite time of day, at least at sea. No one seemed to want Captain Beattie right then except her, and he required little persuasion beyond a leg thrown over him. How simple was man.
Breakfast in their quarters was boiled eggs and Madeira, of all things. ‘It’s the bottom of the bottle,’ he told her. ‘Cookie said the rum was gone, and who wants rum for breakfast anyway?’
Even Anna could tell something was going on outside their haven on the Swallow , with its row of little windows. ‘Duty calls?’
‘Aye, Mrs Beattie. I’ll shave now, and I won’t slit my throat because the sea is calm. You’ll come along to the Queen ? I’m eager to see our children.’
I wonder if you know what you just said , she asked herself, charmed by the simple way he included her.
She observed him as he shaved, relaxed and humming, eons away from the desperate father of last January.
Thank you, Admiral Collingwood , she thought as she dressed.
A house on Menorca? My goodness but you are kind .
Another hour, and there was the Queen. Her heart lifted to see Allan and Pru, both of them beaming, far removed from last winter’s terrified children. We’re having an adventure , she thought as she hugged them.
Bounce came next for a scratch and a pat from her, and the same from Captain Beattie. ‘Admiral Collingwood says we are feeding him too much,’ Allan announced, ‘but he leaves choice bits around for us to feed him anyway. And do you know? The Admiral reads to us at night like you.’
She smiled at that, and turned her attention to her husband and the admiral, deep in conversation, aware how this powerful man missed his own children. Sir, you are blessing my life and my husband’s, but I am sad for you .
She sat with the children, amused when Bounce rested his head in her lap and looked at her with soulful eyes. ‘You, sir, are a blatant hound in search of pats and rubs,’ she declared, and administered both, which meant high-pitched yips that attracted his master’s attention.
‘Mrs Beattie, you should consider yourself highly favoured,’ Collingwood’s deck-voice boomed out. ‘A year ago, I was declared Baron of Chelford. Bounce assumed at least half of my title and demands proper obeisance. You should see how he struts the deck!’
He turned his attention to Allan, who leaned against his father’s knee. ‘Midshipman Beattie—I’ve been calling your son that, Captain—we are requested and required to take Bounce to the gun deck for his walk.’
‘Aye aye, sir!’ the little boy responded. He put two fingers to his lips and whistled. ‘Is that right, sir?’
‘Perfectly fine,’ Collingwood agreed. ‘I couldn’t have done it better myself.
Excuse us for a moment.’ The admiral held out his hand to Allan and nodded to Pru, who took his other hand.
With Bounce leading the way, the unlikely group left the ostentation of Collingwood’s flagship quarters.
The secretary seated nearby resumed his sorting of papers.
She came closer to her husband and lowered her voice. ‘Do you know anything about the house in Port Mahon?’
‘Only that you and the little ones will live there while the Swallow keeps an eye on the French. I cannot fathom my good fortune.’ His comments were quiet, but she heard their sincerity.
‘Let’s walk the deck, too. I asked the bosun to pipe Mr Marsing aboard.
I want him to hear the admiral’s orders. ’
On deck, he strolled with her as though they walked in a park, past coiled rope and sailors mending sails, and others on hands and knees, scraping a more distant part of the deck with pumice stones.
A group of boys barely older than Allan sat before a blackboard where the sailing master wrote equations.
There beside the Queen bobbed the Swallow , looking so small.
It was a world she had never imagined until a mere week ago when she’d stared in awe at the Rock that was Gibraltar. ‘John, I never thought this would be my life.’
He smiled down at her. ‘This is what you get for answering my knock in January.’ The smile left his face. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t opened your door.’
Her heart and soul absorbed the bleakness. On tiptoe, she put her hands over his eyes for a brief moment, because they were on deck with others around. It was enough.
He blinked when she took her hands away. ‘Let’s see what Port Mahon has to offer,’ he said. ‘I doubt it will be boring.’