Darcy the Admiral

by Harriet Knowles

  He shook his head. “Do not be anxious about it. I’m glad you’re back with your family.” He was frowning slightly at Charlotte’s back as Aunt Gardiner led her indoors. “Is she very much changed from how she was previously?”

  They’d talked about it before, of course. “She is. I think that she is distressed about having to break the news to her mother. Lady Lucas is likely to blame Charlotte for wanting to go on a tour. Sir William doted on his daughter and would refuse her nothing.”

  His eyes were distant. “You have said their son is in the Navy. Is her mother not anxious about him?”

  “Oh, yes. All the time. But the family does not have wealth enough to mean John doesn’t have to earn a living.”

  Aunt Gardiner had taken Charlotte indoors, and now came hurrying down the steps again. “Lizzy!” She embraced her briefly. “I’m so happy you’re safe after all you’ve been through.”

  She turned to the admiral. “And you must be Admiral Darcy. Lizzy told us in her letter yesterday that you’re the reason I did not lose my niece to the storm, and that you’ve now returned her safely to us.”

  Elizabeth was amused to notice he looked rather embarrassed. “Think nothing of it, madam. Your niece has comported herself with dignity and courage. The family may take pride in how she has managed such a difficult situation.” He turned to Elizabeth.

  “I hope you get safely home, Miss Bennet, and please convey my best wishes to Miss Lucas, and condolences for the months ahead.”

  She curtsied, almost wishing she’d had the opportunity that he might see her properly attired for once. “I will be forever grateful to you, sir.” She smiled slightly. “And I’ll follow the fortunes of your squadron in the newspapers.”

  He looked round and nodded at the groom, who led his horse over.

  “Thank you, again, Admiral. I pray good fortune for you for the future.” Aunt Gardiner always knew the right thing to say, Elizabeth thought.

  He nodded slightly. “Good day. Please convey my greetings to Mr. Gardiner.” He mounted nimbly, and she wondered how often he had the opportunity to remember how to ride so easily. If he’d been at sea since he was twelve years old, and had little shore leave, it must be easy to lose the skill.

  He raised his hat to them, turned and trotted out of her life.

  Aunt Gardiner tucked her hand into Elizabeth’s arm. “Come indoors, Lizzy. Your friend wanted to go straight to her chamber, so I showed her up there. It means you and I can talk freely in the drawing room.”

  Elizabeth squeezed her aunt’s hand. “I’m happy to be home with you at last. It’s seemed such a long time since I was able to talk to anyone, especially about Charlotte.” She shook her head sadly. “She’s much changed. I suppose I can understand why the loss of her father has affected her so badly, but the Charlotte I knew would have hidden it, would have pushed it down, out of sight, so she didn’t cause any awkwardness.”

  Her aunt sighed. “I can see it’s taxed you a lot.” She smiled knowingly, and changed the subject. “But the admiral seemed very determined to be sure you got home safely — and he’s very handsome too!”

  Elizabeth smiled. Not for anything would she admit her aunt was saying what she herself was thinking. “Aunt! You know very well the uniform is designed to make ladies swoon. And you know me well enough to remember I refuse to do anything expected of ladies!”

  “I remember, Lizzy!” Her aunt laughed. “Come and have a proper cup of tea. You can tell me what it was really like when the ship was wrecked. You must have been very frightened.”

  Two days later, her uncle’s coach turned into the driveway of Longbourn. Aunt Gardiner had travelled with them and would return to London tomorrow. Charlotte sat beside Elizabeth, pleating her scrap of handkerchief between her hands. Each of them now had a suitable hat, shoes, reticule and gown. Charlotte’s was adorned with black crepe to denote mourning.

  Elizabeth was grateful to Aunt Gardiner for sitting with Charlotte on Tuesday, helping her friend compose a letter to her mother. At least Charlotte knew that her mother had received the awful news, and the initial shock must have been borne.

  Jane hurried out. “Lizzy! Aunt Gardiner!” She was followed by Papa and Mama.

  Elizabeth reached over and hugged her friend. “I’ll be thinking of you, Charlotte, and I’ll call in an hour or two and see how you are. Give my very deepest condolences to your mother.” She glanced at Aunt Gardiner, the perfect person to be going with Charlotte, to support her.

  “I’ll forestall Mama, Aunt.” She stepped down from the coach when the door opened and turned to the servant.

  “Close it up again, please, Mr. Jones. Miss Lucas is returning to Lucas Lodge.”

  “Yes, Miss Elizabeth.” The man stooped to fold up the step again, and shut the door.

  Elizabeth turned to her family. “I’m sorry Charlotte needs to go straight home, but I’m sure you understand why. And Aunt Gardiner’s been so kind to her.”

  “But Lizzy! We nearly lost you!” Jane’s eyes were brimming with tears.

  “But you didn’t,” Elizabeth said stoutly. “And I’ll not have you unhappy because I didn’t drown!”

  Her father laughed. “She has you there, Jane. Now come in and let’s have tea and hear the whole story.”

  13

  Darcy paced yet another new deck, scowling as the Impregnable made her stately way out into the Atlantic.

  Only a few short weeks ago, leaving the endless blockade would have been a challenge to look forward to. No longer. Of course, he hadn’t wanted to return to the blockade, either, but he felt a sense of duty — loyalty to the crews of the ships he’d commanded.

  He sighed heavily. What he wanted was to be ashore. He’d not slept well since the day Miss Bennet had come aboard Hibernia and turned him all aback.

  At first, he’d tried to keep her out of his thoughts, telling himself that he was a Naval officer first and foremost. He had a duty to his country, best expressed in the career he’d made his own.

  But he’d failed. Her beauty, courage and intelligent questions had won him over. Elizabeth. Her aunt had called her Lizzy, so her name was Elizabeth. He’d begun calling her that, deep in his mind, for comfort, as each day, mile after mile, he left her further astern.

  The admiral had been blunt. “I’m giving you the Impregnable, Darcy. Ninety-eight guns, and nearly new. And a new squadron of three two-deckers, seventy guns each. Two frigates and two brigs. It is a sizeable squadron, given how short of ships and men we are.” He’d bent a stern gaze on Darcy, as he stood to attention and wondered how Elizabeth was faring. Darcy had pulled his attention back to the dark-panelled room.

  “Thank you, sir. Can you tell me the thinking behind your orders? So I will know how you might wish me to interpret them in the heat of unexpected events?”

  “Hmmm.” Pinkerton rose to his feet and walked to the window. “Look out there, Darcy. Have you ever thought of the people our navy protects?”

  Darcy stood beside him. Londoners were walking or riding about their business much as usual, he thought. The lovely St James’ Park was looking good at this time of year. Down the Mall, he could see the modest frontage of the Queen’s House. Smiling, he recalled playing there once, as a small boy, when it still belonged to the Duke of Buckingham. But when royalty required something, you sold it — or had it taken from you. And the Queen needed somewhere to live as her husband descended into madness.

  But he must pull his mind back to the room. “I am always aware of my duty, sir.”

  “Yes. Well, some of my colleagues are sure you’re too young for this command. But I have put my reputation with yours, because I think the task requires a mixture of careful skill and knowledge, alongside a healthy dash of recklessness and imagination.” Pinkerton met his gaze. “So don’t let me down!”

  “I will endeavour to do my best when I know exactly what you want, sir.” Darcy met his gaze. The man might have done what he said — but he’d be sitting safely in t
his office, while Darcy was fighting battles where a single shot or broadside could snuff out his life.

  “Yes. Well, keeping the French bottled up in harbour is taking too many ships. It means the Spanish are slipping out of harbour and crossing to our enemies in the Americas too easily.”

  Darcy watched his expression. He’d heard Pinkerton had a nephew in the independence forces across the Atlantic, and he’d had to disown him very publicly — even now, he wasn’t fully trusted about the American war.

  “Gold, Darcy! Gold!” Pinkerton sloshed brandy into his glass. “The Spanish are shipping it over there under our very noses! No wonder the Americans have so many new ships, so much wealth.” He gulped the drink. “We need prize ships brought home, man. Ships full of gold.”

  Darcy had been thoughtful that night. A prize ship was a bonus usually — fortunate not to have been sent to the bottom during the battle in which they were taken, but now he must fight with the whole intention of keeping the heavily-laden ships afloat. Would their captains have orders to scuttle them if it seemed they’d be taken by the enemy? Would he have to get alongside them by use of some ruse?

  He couldn’t use the Impregnable for any sort of ruse. She was almost new, a great three-decker, built almost as a copy of the Victory. She was English in every line.

  But the two-deckers … Darcy had been amused to discover all three were prize ships, acquired from the Dutch over the course of the war over the South African colonies. If they flew under their old flags, as neutrals, they might just be able to get close to the ships carrying the gold.

  Dare he risk it? If he was captain of such a ship, he’d be very suspicious of anything that smelled like such a trap. He spun round on the deck. “Captain Jamieson!”

  His new post captain was beside him in a second. “Sir?”

  “Signal all ships to close on the Flag. Captains to repair on board as soon as possible. I want another conference.” He stared up at the barely filling sails. There was plenty of time before the wind picked up. And he needed to get to know his captains better. Two of them, Onslow of the Batavier, and Rolles, of the smaller frigate, had recently been patrolling the southern routes. He wanted more of their observations and intelligence as to how the Spanish operated.

  He stood at the aft rail and stared over the rail. He’d been devoted to his task until now. Now he could hardly see the point of all this war. France would always be an enemy, he thought. They crouched on the other side of the English Channel, too close for anything other than an uneasy truce. But the far-flung colonies — what did Britain need with those?

  He pushed the thoughts away and beckoned his cox’n. “Mr. Duncan, please prepare for a captain’s conference and alert my servant.” He was happy he was senior enough that it was expected he’d bring his own people with him. When he was more junior, it had taken some bribery to be able to do so, although Mr. Duncan had his own way of ending up on whatever ship Darcy was posted to. He smiled and began to pace up and down the deck, deep in thought.

  “Sail aft, sir!” The lookout’s cry had him hurrying to the rail, reaching back for the telescope. He waited before lifting the glass to his eye, needing to know where to look.

  “Two sail, sir! Ten degrees port!” Two ships. Not bringing dispatches, then. He frowned and hurried for the bridge. “Signal the squadron to scatter — cancel the conference.” He must not show his strength to the enemy. The midshipmen were almost tumbling over themselves to run the bunting up the mast, and he watched the brightly coloured scraps fluttering in the breeze. “Take the signal down as soon as they’ve acknowledged.”

  He glanced at the captain. “Who has the best eye for seeing who is pursuing us, Captain Jamieson?”

  “My second is a good man, sir.”

  “Send him up. I need to know what flags they are flying, but also what they look like, whether they are flying their real flag or a decoy!” He stared aft. “Bring her off a point, let them come up on us. And beat to quarters while they can’t hear us.”

  Some inner sense told him that this was not a chance meeting. “Signal the code for plan three, and get it down as soon as acknowledged.”

  He began pacing along the deck again. It would be half an hour or more before anyone would see the newcomers with any reliability.

  The Impregnable began to fall away from the wind another point, and the quartermaster looked troubled. It didn’t reflect well on him to have the sails in such disarray. But Darcy wanted the newcomers to think his was a disorderly ship. And a swift turn of the wheel could have them picking up speed quite quickly.

  He turned for the wheel. “Cox’n, give me the benefit of your opinion of the wind for the rest of the day, if you please.”

  The man’s chest puffed out with pride. “She’ll strengthen to the west, sir. Maybe another two or three knots in the next hour.” He cocked an eye at the sky. “Then it’ll be steady until dusk, when you’ll get a few more knots. Perhaps even a squall.”

  “What’s the prediction on a squall?” Darcy had an idea for that squall, if circumstances transpired as he suspected they would.

  “Quite likely, sir. I’d know about an hour or two before.” He concentrated on the wind as he felt it on his features. “Yes, at dusk, I think.”

  The last few men padded past to quarters. Darcy leaned to the captain. “Make sure the gun crews are ready to go, but do not open the gun ports. Make it seem as if the ship is unwary. Keep the stove on, so they can see the smoke, but have the cook ready to douse it at once when ordered.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  A bang echoed over the water, turning everyone’s head aft.

  “Three bells, sir.” The midshipman’s voice was hushed.

  Darcy waited for the second lieutenant’s report. He was about to ask if the man had gone to sleep when the call echoed down.

  “A smaller ship, perhaps a brig. She’s pursuing an unarmed East Indiaman, sir!”

  Darcy felt the excitement ripple through the crew on the deck. So they wanted him to fall back and take on the smaller ship. He would not. Something told him this was a trap. Most Indiamen had some armament, there were too many pirate ships to go completely unarmed and unescorted.

  “Mr. Jamieson! Signal the rest of the squadron. Confirm plan three. Strictly confirm. Then remove signal when acknowledged.” He would not have any of his eager junior captains fall foul of the ruse.

  His gaze swept up to the top mast. “Is that lookout awake?”

  As if in answer, the cry echoed down. “Five more sail aft of the leading two, sir! Three miles distant!”

  Five. That would shorten the odds. Darcy smiled. His servant was there, proffering his coat and hat.

  “Thank you.” Darcy shrugged into his coat, and looked round at the bridge, ignoring the bang as another ball splashed up beside the bigger ship. He could see for himself that the balls were too far from the Indiaman. It was a poorly conceived ruse.

  “All right, gentlemen. Let’s prepare ourselves.” With good fortune, there might be gold to sweeten the sunset.

  Elizabeth would look wonderful in gold jewellery. Her dark hair would show it off beautifully. He swallowed. It would not do to have his thoughts distracted.

  14

  Elizabeth sighed as she spread her father’s newspaper on the table to read news of the war. It was wrong to be vexed that her admiral had not appeared at Longbourn soon after she’d arrived home.

  She was certain his orders had sent him straight back to the Hibernia; it was what he had thought likely.

  “Lizzy, you always seem to be sighing over the newspapers these days. What on earth are you looking for?” Mama sounded quite irritable.

  “I’m sorry, Mama. I am just finding it hard to understand what the news of the war is all about.”

  Papa glanced up. “I doubt there will be anything of importance in there, Lizzy. The only news made public is information the government don’t care if the enemy knows. Even battles and sinkings are only made public many m
onths after they’ve happened.”

  “I suppose you’re right, Papa.” Elizabeth folded the paper up again. “I do wish there was a way we can find out things, though. How do we know if the war is going well, or whether it’s right to fight it?”

  He regarded her over the top of his spectacles. “Why not go for a long walk, Lizzy? You know it settles your thoughts when you are troubled.”

  She smiled wearily. “Thank you, Papa. I think I will.”

  Jane looked up. “Are you happy on your own, Lizzy, or would you like me to come too?”

  Elizabeth glanced at her sister. “I love your company, Jane, you know that. If you feel up to going as far as Oakham Mount, then I’ll be delighted.”

  “All right, I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

  As they walked along the lane, Elizabeth and her sister were silent, each busy with their own thoughts. Elizabeth wondered where the admiral was now. Had he been sent back to sea with new orders? He must have been. The country was at war and the navy would not just allow its senior officers to remain ashore without occupation.

  But a small voice within her said that if he was ashore, she still had no right to expect that he’d call upon her, that he’d care particularly about her, or make enquiries as to how she and Charlotte were faring.

  Once more, she examined her heart. She’d never encountered anyone like him before. Were her affections stirred because he’d saved her life? Or was it merely that he’d been so gentlemanlike as to return them to her family, despite the extra inconvenience to him? Her life here now was so humdrum as to be unappealing. That must be what it was.

  She smiled slightly as her mind pictured him: his aristocratic features, his grave expression and his tall, lean body. He was so handsome.

  “I’m glad your thoughts are making you smile, Lizzy.” Jane glanced at her. “Tell me of them.”