Success to the Brave

by Alexander Kent

  Bolitho saw Allday speaking with the groom, making the man laugh with one of his yarns. That was another memory fixed in his mind.

  When Allday had walked from the coach, worried and trying not to drag his feet up the stone steps.

  She had gone to him and had put her arms round his neck and had said quietly, “Thank you for bringing my men home, Allday. I knew you would.”

  She had given him life, as she had this old house, he thought. Her very presence here had made its mark.

  How quickly the week had flashed past and yet they had not left the grounds. Her gentle understanding after what he had endured, her passion which she gave without restraint, had brought them closer than ever.

  He thought too of his first meeting with their child. He smiled as he recalled the exact moment.

  The way Belinda had laughed at him and had cried at the same time when she had said, “She won’t break, Richard! Pick her up!”

  Elizabeth. A new person. Belinda had chosen the name herself, like she had managed everything else during his absence.

  Nothing seemed to matter now beyond here and his family. Rivers had gone to London in the same coach as Jobert. The French admiral would be exchanged eventually, but Rivers’ fate was less certain.

  He looked from the window again but Allday had gone. It was hard to think there was a war again. What had happened to the peace?

  The door opened and she entered carrying Elizabeth. Bolitho took her and carried her to the window while the child’s hands tugged at his gilt buttons.

  It was all perfect, and he felt he should be ashamed when so many had nothing, and so many had died.

  Adam entered the room and looked at them. He belonged here. They had made it possible.

  Allday hurried towards the outer doors and Bolitho heard him say to one of the maids, “Quick, girl, here’s a courier!”

  Belinda’s hands went to her breast. In a mere whisper she said, “Oh, no, not now, not so soon!”

  Bolitho heard her despair and held the child more tightly to his body.

  In this very room his father had once said to him, “England needs all her sons now.” That had been another war, but the same was just as true today. It was here that his father had given him the old sword, and the last time he had seen him alive.

  Adam strode from the room and returned a few minutes later with a heavy, sealed envelope.

  He said, “The courier’s not from the Admiralty. He is from St James’s in London.”

  Belinda nodded without understanding. “Please read it, Adam, I am too afraid . . .”

  Adam opened the envelope and read it in silence.

  Then he said, “Thank God.”

  Allday hovered by the door with Ferguson at his side as the young lieutenant handed the imposing letter to her. As he watched her surprise and happiness he said, “Well, Allday, you must have influence in the right places. It’s what you wanted.”

  Allday stared as Belinda moved to the window and kissed her husband on the cheek, her arms round him and their child.

  Adam smiled and said softly, “I think my uncle is content with the reward he is holding!”

  But Allday did not hear him, and his eyes were far away as he said, “Sir Richard Bolitho.” He nodded firmly, the old gleam back in his eyes once more. “Not before time, an’ that’s no error neither.”