Chapter Thirty-Nine
A nna made herself comfortable on the steps, dozing as time passed, then waking when she heard the veranda door open. David stood there.
‘It’s done. We’ve just watched the Hartford sail.’ He sat beside her. ‘Your man is safely aboard the Swallow . I watched until they left the inlet.’
‘I know you would rather be aboard the Swallow , but here you are.’
‘I would rather,’ he agreed, ‘but I gave my word to a good man that I will protect you.’ She saw his smile, even though the light was dim.
‘Thank you with all my heart,’ she said and gave his shoulder a nudge, which made him chuckle.
He stood up. ‘Mrs Beattie, I am going to stay here and listen. I wish I could see La Guerre when it goes after the Hartford —prime bait—and finds the Swallow coming in right behind her .’ He clapped his hands together once and loud.
‘Your captain is probably smiling about that, because he knows there is not a ship afloat that isn’t the most vulnerable when its stern is fired upon. ’
‘I’ll sit with you,’ she said. They sat in silence in the canvas chairs as the sun rose and the roar of cannon came with it, thunder from the sea by Mallorca and the village of Palma, because the sky was clear and it was another sunny day in the beautiful Balearics.
He held her hand when she started to cry, worrying for her beloved husband, then gave it a squeeze when the roar grew fainter and finally stopped.
‘Now we wait to see who won,’ he said, mincing no words. ‘The hardest part.’
When Pru and Allan woke up, Anna gave them an abbreviated outline of what had happened and made them sandwiches, which they ate on the veranda.
Pru raised her eyebrows when she heard banging on the kitchen door, but Anna didn’t comment beyond saying, ‘The Durands are locked in.’ Allan smiled and returned to his sketch of Admiral Collingwood. They were perfect Royal Navy children.
From the veranda, Anna waited. She prayed for a successful outcome, but braced herself for something else. She had two children to raise, no matter what, and so she stayed on the veranda, where she knew David watched her, too. The matter was out of her hands, so she bowed to Duty herself.
In late afternoon they heard the sound of carts coming towards Admiral Collingwood’s wonderful house, bought for his family who never came to Menorca, and perhaps never would, but which had sheltered hers.
She started for the front door, the Marine in front of her, Pru and Allen trailing after them. She stared hard at the door.
‘You or me?’ David said as the sound of carts grew louder.
She reached for the knob as she heard singing. It was the chorus of Heart of Oak , something her brother Will had sung every time he returned from sea. She always sang with Will and she sang now, the door still closed.
‘…Steady boys, steady! We’ll fight and we’ll conquer again and again.’
She opened the door and there he stood. ‘Dearest heart,’ she said in her practical way and opened her arms wide.
As they clung together, sailors, officers and Marines poured into the house, all of them smelling of black powder and sweat. She looked around John’s arm to see Admiral Collingwood himself, and ran to him, giving him a hug as he lifted her off her feet.
‘Anna, earlier, I sent Admiral Collingwood my plan for battle,’ her husband said, watching them. ‘Who should arrive off Mallorca but our esteemed leader? And in a sloop-of-war, no less.’
‘Aye, my dear,’ the Admiral told Anna. He set her down with a bow. ‘It took me back to my fighting days with the Royal Navy in Boston.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘I like a fast sloop-of-war and never mind leaving my boring flagship.’
‘Aye, the Frenchies were indeed building a fort near Palma. Shall we say they were less than happy to offer the sword of surrender to our admiral,’ John said.
Anna heard all his affection. ‘ La Guerre ’s captain admitted that he had positioned his ship’s sailing dinghy close to Menorca, which kept him informed of who came in and out of Port Mahon. ’
‘Mrs Beattie, you should have seen us!’ Admiral Collingwood said, then nodded to John. ‘Captain, don’t ever seek to be an admiral. All the fun is gone!’
From the comfort of her sooty man’s arms, she sneezed at the powder and smiled to see Captain Tyler of the Hartford , followed shortly by Billy Whitlow, reformed sinner and foretopman and certainly not in chains.
Soon the hall was full and the sitting room as well, with victorious men piling out onto the back lawn, most to simply lie in the grass, exhausted.
John welcomed them all in, then took her hand. ‘Look who else we found, Anna.’
She turned to see Sofia Callona, who held out her arms for a tight embrace.
‘We were more than lucky,’ John said, and gestured in an older couple with that look she recognised now of people who had suffered greatly. ‘These are Sofia’s parents. They were being held in that fortress the French were building near Palma. Captain Tyler was so right about that.’
‘I am heading back to my flagship as soon as I can gather my crew together,’ Admiral Collingwood said. ‘The Callonas will come with me to the Queen . A Fast Dispatch Vessel will take them to England and safety.’
I wish it could take you, too, Admiral , Anna thought, touched at the way he looked around, as if imagining his own family greeting him there in his Menorca house.
Anna kept her arm around Sofia, who shyly introduced her to her parents. She whispered to Anna, ‘I will never again compose a list of demands, no matter how irked I get.’ She shuddered. ‘The French did not treat us well.’ But she was still Sofia. ‘They are not good hosts.’
‘I am certain you are right, Sofia,’ Anna assured her, trying not to smile.
A few words from the admiral to his particular crew partially cleared out the room.
He smiled at the good-natured groans from the more high-spirited among them, shaking his head when the Marines thought to move everyone along faster.
‘Let them take their time,’ he said. ‘It was a glorious fight.’ He slapped Captain Beattie on the back.
‘There’s a commendation coming your way, and I have a plan, if you and your pretty wife are amenable. ’
‘Sir?’
‘I like the idea of the Swallow establishing a permanent base here at Port Mahon, perhaps with another ship as well—maybe the one I borrowed—to continue keeping an eye on things.’ He nodded to Captain Tyler.
‘I don’t think your country and ours are quite ready to become allies, but you’re welcome to drop in now and then. ’
‘Thank you, sir, but no,’ Tyler said. ‘All the same, I greatly enjoyed the privilege of working with Captain Beattie.’
‘It was my privilege, too, Captain Tyler. We’re both anchoring here tonight, Admiral. Captain Tyler sails for Tripoli tomorrow.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, Admiral. I have orders to rejoin the American fleet. The USS Constitution is sailing home, now that there is a treaty in place with the Tripolitan pirates. We are part of that escort.’ His expression turned rueful. ‘I will miss our particular war, Captain Beattie.’
‘As will I,’ John said. ‘Thank you. That matter we spoke of?’
‘I understand you,’ Captain Tyler replied, then gave a nod to Anna. ‘Take good care of him.’
‘I will,’ she said, resting her cheek against her husband’s hand on her shoulder.
Captain Tyler didn’t bow to Admiral Collingwood. Anna didn’t expect him to. ‘Admiral, I know our countries have had their differences. Things may change in the future.’
‘Very well,’ Collingwood said. ‘We will leave it at that. You Americans are a bloodthirsty lot, born in battle. I saw that with my own eyes in Boston at Bunker Hill. Thank you for your service today.’
‘It was an honour, Admiral.’ As he left, Captain Tyler couldn’t seem to resist. ‘I’ll give a good report of the Royal Navy to Tommy Jefferson!’
‘Scoundrel!’
The Hartford and some of the Swallow crews climbed in the wagons to return to the port and their ships, safe now from flaming torches with signals.
Admiral Collingwood lingered longer with his own crew, nodding his approval when his Royal Marines knocked down the barrier in the kitchen and dragged out the Durands.
‘Clap ’em in irons when we’re aboard the Queen ,’ Collingwood ordered. He whispered to John, ‘I might just throw them overboard.’
‘Not yet, sir, if you please,’ her husband said. He took a battered letter from his uniform jacket. ‘I will give this to you to forward to the Admiralty. Please read it, sir.’
As he read, Anna watched Collingwood’s eyes widen, then narrow, making her suddenly grateful she never had to stare at him across an enemy deck in battle or at a court martial.
He tapped the letter, cleared his throat and waved it in front of the Durands.
‘Spies! To think that I hired you to take care of my house. I trusted you.’
She glanced at her husband to see him watching her, his eyes filled with that look of desperation she had hoped to never see again. Betrayal of trust. I wish I could cover your eyes , she thought, and yours, Admiral Collingwood, and mine, and maybe everyone who is at war .
Another glance at her husband proved that he knew precisely what she was thinking. He put his hand to his lips and to his heart. She did the same. It was enough for now in this public place, and it gave her the courage to ask, ‘Admiral, who is the note from? Is it secret, or may I know?’
‘My dear, it is signed with the initial N, from Napoleon himself.’ He stared again at Madame Durand.
‘It’s brief, ordering you Durands to spy on us—I include your son and La Guerre— and cripple us here in Port Mahon, to give your master Bonaparte time to fortify Mallorca and control the Mediterranean. Damn you all.’
No one spoke. Somehow, it did not surprise Anna that Private Bartleby filled the awful silence by stepping forward and saluting. He had nothing to lose. ‘Admiral, if I may speak to the Durands?’