by Jay Worrall
“We will display the Union flag,” he said to Sykes. “Hoist out my gig. I’ll go across.” As Louisa neared, the two merchantmen hove to. Charles climbed the snow’s side, two marines following close behind.
“May I see your bill of lading, sir?” Charles asked the master of the Bengtsfors, out of Gothenburg. The profoundly blond man of middle height and age, with tangled hair down to his shoulders, reached inside his jacket. He produced the document showing a cargo of wheat and oil from Crete, bound for Denmark.
“Thank you, sir,” Charles said, returning the papers. “You are a long way from home.”
“Ja,” the master said, rubbing at two-week-old stubble on his chin. “Three month, more.”
“Tell me, have you seen any other English ships in these waters?”
“No.” The man shook his head thoughtfully. “No English. Many French.”
“Many French? When? Where?”
The Swedish master was momentarily diverted by something he saw aboard Louisa. “You hab vimmen?” he asked.
“Yes,” Charles answered, “the government issues them to us for long voyages. When did you see the French fleet?”
The Swede rubbed his chin again. “Five day,” he said. “Ver’ large. By Cape Kiros. Sail east. What name you vimmen?”
“Miss Bridges and Mrs. Edgemont,” Charles answered, seeing the two watching from the rail of his quarterdeck. “Do you want to say hello?” He walked with him to the side.
“Hallo, Miss Bridges! Hallo, Mrs. Edgemont!” the Swede’s voice boomed across the water. The two women waved back. “You hab two vimmen,” he said seriously. “You sell one?”
“I am sorry,” Charles said. “The other belongs to the brig.”
“Captain report on board, if you please, Mr. Sykes,” Charles said as soon as his feet regained Louisa’s deck. “Signal it to Pylades.”
“Yes, sir,” Sykes answered, touched his hat, and left.
On the quarterdeck, Charles found Penny and Molly. “You had better be nice to me. I had an offer to sell one of you to that gentleman.”
“How much?” Molly asked, which brought a frown from Penny.
“We did not get that far into the negotiations. I’ve signaled for Daniel to come across. I thought I’d warn you.”
“Oh, my. I won’t be but a minute,” she said, and fled.
“Seriously, he did not offer to purchase us?” Penny said.
“I think he figured that so long as I had two, he’d probably be doing me a favor.”
“Surely thou didst not consider it?”
“He seemed a very nice sort of fellow.”
Daniel Bevan came aboard on the leeward side. After tipping his hat to Penny, he said to Charles, “What have you learned?”
“Well, that women have actual monetary value, for one. Also that the French were seen south of Crete these five days past.”
Bevan removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “What do you think it means?”
“The women or the French?”
“Let’s start with the French,” Bevan offered dryly.
“I don’t know what their objective is, except that it’s something in the eastern Mediterranean, Crete itself possibly, or Cyprus, Alexandretta, the Levant, who knows. The consul in Naples thinks Egypt, but I don’t know if I agree. Crete seems a little far north for their course to be in that direction. However, I do think that where the French fleet has gone, Nelson will sooner or later follow.”
“What makes you think so?”
“If we can obtain intelligence on their movements from local shipping, so can Nelson. In the event, it’s all we have. We’ll bend a little southerly along Crete and see what we can learn.”
Charles looked to Bevan for confirmation but saw that his friend’s attention had been diverted by the appearance of Molly across the deck. She stood almost shyly by the far rail in a fresh dress, with her head erect and her hands folded in front. His heart went out to her. She looked both vulnerable and determined. He had come to have a certain careful affection for Molly.
“If you will excuse me,” Bevan said.
Charles caught his arm. “Daniel,” he said seriously, “whatever you do, do the right thing by her. She’s done nothing to injure you.”
Bevan nodded wordlessly and crossed the deck with a determined step. Charles watched carefully while trying to look as if he weren’t. Bevan talked in low tones; Molly mostly listened, nodding occasionally, her eyes never leaving his face.
“What do you think she’ll do?” he said to Penny, still standing beside him.
“It is not for me to decide,” she said thoughtfully. “I hope she will do what she believes to be correct.”
“Poor Molly,” said Charles.
“Poor Daniel Bevan,” said Penny.
After a few moments, Bevan fell silent. Molly nodded her head, said something, then left him to cross toward Charles and Penny. “Don’t Daniel want me to come visit with him for a time,” she said. “He says I can have my own place to sleep. I want to give it a chance.”
“You have only to come to the rail and wave,” Charles said, “and I’ll fetch you straightaway.”
Molly smiled. “Thank you, sir. Don’t I appreciate it. I can take care of myself.”
While she went below with Penny to collect her pencils and paper and some clothing, Charles walked over to his friend. There didn’t seem to be much to say, so the two men stood silently waiting until the women returned. As Molly was lowered over the side, Charles finally said, “Good luck.” Bevan touched his hat and descended the side steps.
Charles and Penny stood watching Bevan’s cutter pulling back to the brig. “Do you know what this means?” Charles said.
“What?”
“That we’ll have the cabin to ourselves.”
“Except for Timothy Attwater.”
“Well, yes.”
Penny went to the cabin while Charles proceeded to the quarterdeck to give the orders for their new course. On the way, he passed Talmage, whom he acknowledged with a curt nod. He hoped they found Nelson soon. Seeing Talmage reminded him that he had not yet spoken to Winchester about the prohibition of duels. Then he thought that as nothing had happened thus far, perhaps it would not be necessary.
“We will make the course south-by-southeast,” he said to Eliot. “Set her to weather Cape Kiros.” He noted Winchester’s presence as officer of the watch, thought again to speak, but decided it would be awkward to belabor something that Winchester presumably already knew. He went below.
Charles settled himself at his desk while Penny straightened some of Molly’s left-behind things and replaced them in her friend’s chest. Attwater began to lay the table for supper. A loud knock came at the cabin door.
“Enter,” Charles called, pushing back his chair.
The door thrust open and Beechum almost fell into the cabin, his expression a picture of anxiety. “Excuse me, sir, you should come on deck,” he said hurriedly. “It’s Lieutenant Winchester and Lieutenant Talmage, sir.”
Charles rose and snatched up his sword and scabbard, hanging on the bulkhead. “Find Sergeant Cooley and tell him to bring a half dozen of his marines. Run, man.” He strapped his sword around his waist and reached for the door.
“Where art thou going?” Penny asked, emerging from their sleeping cabin.
“I have not yet spoken with Stephen about duels,” he said, and hurried out.
Climbing the ladderway to the quarterdeck several steps at a time, he saw Talmage and Winchester facing each other. Talmage had his sword loose, its point touching the deck, his hands resting on its hilt. Winchester stood two paces away, tense and determined, his hand on the hilt of his own sword, still on his belt.
“Mr. Talmage, scabbard your hanger,” Charles ordered as he crossed the deck.
“Ah, our esteemed captain,” Talmage answered. His sword did not move. “This is a matter of honor between Mr. Winchester and myself. I will thank you not to interfere.”
“I will interfere, Mr. Talmage. I’ll have no duels on my ship. Put away your blade.” He saw that his wife had arrived at the top of the ladderway, her hands to her face in alarm. Charles wished it were the marines instead. “What honor? There is no insult,” he said.
Talmage appraised him coldly. “This puppy has unfairly assumed my place. A disrespect that I find I cannot tolerate. It was dishonorable for him to have done it, and it would be dishonorable for me to allow it to stand.” The end of his sword raised off the deck to hover menacingly in front of him. “I have been grievously treated, unfairly insulted, sir.” The “sir” came out as a sneer.
“You will do nothing,” Charles said. “I will not allow it.” He rested his own hand meaningfully on his sword. He knew his anger to be rising; he didn’t care.
“If you will give me the gratification, I will happily address you first. That is, if you have the stones for it.”
Charles’s hand tightened on the grip of his sword, then he felt Penny press close beside him, against the side on which his scabbard hung. “Thou must not,” she said. “Thou knowest this to be wrong.” He made to pull away, but she clung to his arm.
“Hiding behind a woman’s skirts will not save you,” Talmage said, his faced turned to a scowl. “Madam, I will oblige you to go below. This is an affair between men.”
“I will not, Jacob Talmage,” she said. “I will not abide this foolishness.”
Charles stared, disbelieving, at his wife. The man was holding a naked blade and knew well how to use it. Then he realized that Talmage would never willingly harm her. The thought helped him to regain some composure.
Charles heard the tramp of the marines mounting the ladderway. Talmage barely glanced at them. “I must insist that you leave, madam,” the lieutenant said again.
“I will not,” Penny repeated, glaring at him.
“Believe me, you will never in your lifetime win this argument, Mr. Talmage,” Charles said, coming to a decision. He succeeded in disengaging himself from his wife. Her presence might be helpful, he thought, and he resolved that there would be no swordplay. To start with, he needed to defuse the situation.
“Stephen,” he said, “go below to your quarters.”
“Sir,” Winchester protested, “I am bound—”
Charles cut him off. “I am ordering you below. If you do not go willingly, I will have you arrested and held under guard.”
“Sir,” Winchester protested.
“Sergeant Cooley,” Charles said, “detach two of your men to escort Lieutenant Winchester below.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Winchester said in a disgusted tone. He stared coldly at Talmage and departed.
Charles took a moment to collect his thoughts. He knew that the situation with Talmage had elevated to this level at least in part because of his own inattention. He should have confronted the lieutenant directly about his shortcomings far earlier. He had allowed the problem to grow and fester; it was his responsibility to cure it.
“Mr. Talmage,” Charles said, “your difficulties lie with me. If anyone questioned your abilities, it was myself, no other. Mr. Winchester was only following orders. My orders.”
Talmage fixed his eyes on Charles. The sword in his hand lowered but was not sheathed. “You have done more than question my abilities,” he said bitterly. “You have disrated me without a hearing or recourse. That is an unpardonable affront, sir.”
Charles knew that Talmage was not entirely wrong. From his point of view, he had been unfairly treated. Being found wanting by his captain, a much younger man, must have stung. Being replaced without explanation by the captain’s own brother-in-law might be considered an unfair preference. It was unfortunate that Talmage had gone to the extremity of drawing his sword against a fellow officer. Charles would be well in his rights to have him arrested and held for a court-martial under any number of the Articles of War. In any event, there would have to be an inquiry when they found Nelson or returned to Gibraltar. Talmage’s had been too public an act.
“Put away your sword, Mr. Talmage,” Charles repeated. “I’ll not give you that kind of satisfaction.”
“Then you are a coward,” the lieutenant said flatly.
Charles sighed. Talmage wasn’t making this easy. “I hope I am no coward. If your complaint did not have some justice, I would have a greater inclination to meet you sword to sword.”
Talmage hesitated. “You admit that you are in the wrong?”
Charles thought he detected a hint of doubt in Talmage’s voice. “I admit,” he said carefully, “that we are both gentlemen and king’s officers. I admit that I should have discussed your situation with you in a forthright and timely manner. I now regret that I had not done so. However, I do not admit that I would have taken any other course of action.”
“I find that intolerable,” Talmage said with some belligerence, but the point of his sword rested once more on the deck.
Charles knew that he couldn’t stand on the deck arguing with Talmage indefinitely. He glanced at the marines lined up behind the lieutenant. “I ask you for the last time to put away your sword, or by God I’ll have you thrown in irons.”
Penny unexpectedly stepped forward and approached Talmage. “May I have thy weapon, please?” she said softly, removing the object from his unresisting hand. She then delivered it to a surprised Cooley.
The air seemed to go out of Talmage. He stared at those around him as if realizing for the first time the fullness of what he had done.
Penny returned to Talmage’s side and took his arm in hers. Looking at Charles, she said, “Shall we go below to thy cabin? It is a less public place there. I can offer you both hot chocolate.”
“We don’t have any chocolate,” Charles said.
“I brought some from Cheshire,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “Timothy Attwater knows how to prepare it.”
Sergeant Cooley approached, still holding Talmage’s sword. “Will you be requiring my services, sir? I can give you two of my boys, just in case.”
Charles thought for a moment. “Thank you, Sergeant,” he said, taking the blade. “If you would station them outside the entrance to my cabin. I’ll call if they’re needed.”
In his cabin, Penny sat Talmage at the table, then held out her hand to Charles to surrender the lieutenant’s sword. When Charles gave it to her, she held out her other hand for his own.
“My, aren’t we careful,” Charles said with a laugh and unhooked the scabbard from his belt. She took the weapons and dropped them heavily on the bench beneath the stern windows as if they were serpents. Then she went to retrieve her secret supply of chocolate and to find Attwater to send him to the galley for hot water.
“Mr. Talmage,” Charles said, appraising the man sitting across from him, “I regret that it has come to this.”
“As do I,” Talmage responded coldly.
Charles tapped his fingers on the tabletop while he struggled to decide what to do. Should he be harsh or lenient? What would be best for the running of his ship, for himself, for Talmage? He felt as if he were in deep waters. It occurred to him that Talmage was in far deeper.
“What’s done cannot be undone,” he said, coming to a conclusion. “The question is, what are we to do now?”
Talmage shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“I will offer you a choice,” Charles said. “You may stay as you are, as a passenger on board, so long as there are no further incidents. You will have the freedom of the ship and no regular responsibilities until we come upon Admiral Nelson. But I warn you, if there is a further altercation with Mr. Winchester, or anyone else, I will have you put under confinement.” He waited for the lieutenant to indicate his understanding.
Talmage nodded cautiously.
“Or, at your request, I will enter you as second lieutenant. You would perform your duties under the direction of Mr. Winchester, with Mr. Beechum as third. You would still be free to request a trans
fer if that becomes available, or you may continue on board until we return to the fleet at Gibraltar.”
At that moment Penny reentered, ushering in Attwater with a tray of three steaming mugs of hot cocoa. As they were being placed before the men, Charles said, “I will expect your answer in the morning.”
Penny sat down with a sympathetic glance at Talmage and then a more cursory one at Charles as Attwater set a small plate of sweet candies on the table.
“What’s this?” Charles asked. He had no sweets of any kind that he knew of.
“I bought them in Chester. That’s the last,” she said, studying Talmage’s face intently.
Charles blew across the top of his chocolate and sipped, eyeing his wife over the brim. “We will have to discuss this hoarding of supplies,” he said.
Penny’s face pinkened, but she kept her gaze intently on Talmage.
The lieutenant cleared his throat, perhaps feeling uneasy under such close scrutiny. “Sir,” he said, rising to his feet, “I will not apologize for my behavior. I believe myself to have been justified. I will accept the second’s position until a suitable transfer is available.” He placed his untasted cocoa on the table.
Charles rose. “I will inform Mr. Winchester of your status. You may report to him in the morning.”
Talmage nodded stiffly, then turned to Penny. Holding his hat in front of his chest with both hands, he said, “I apologize if anything in my behavior has caused you distress, Mrs. Edgemont. Please be assured that your efforts on my behalf are appreciated.”
“Thou art most welcome, Jacob Talmage,” she answered softly. “I have great faith that thou will do the correct thing in this time of trial.”
Talmage bowed to her and cast a cold glance at Charles. “If that is all,” he said.
“A moment,” Charles said, and went to collect the surrendered sword. “You will require this. Keep it in its scabbard.”
