by Susan Lodge
He forced his voice to remain calm. “I think I have a fair idea. Somewhere probably painful, I warrant. However. I intend to carry them out to the letter before I even consider your request.”
Jane’s eyes dropped to the document he had placed on the desk between them. She slipped on her spectacles and studied it for a moment before tossing it back. It told her very little except she was to comply with Captain Marston’s orders and accompany him on his ship.
“Arrogant ass.”
The muttered sentiment was just audible this time and his eyebrows rose slightly.
“Are you referring to the signatory on the orders or myself, because I believe the former borders on treason? Either way, your impertinence is beginning to bore me and I advise you to discard it before you embark on my ship.”
Jane’s eyes flicked down to the seal of the letter and Addington’s signature. Her breath caught. Oh Lord, I just called the Prime Minister an ass.
She retrieved the papers and examined them again, giving her time to think.
“Why the hurry, Captain Marston?”
He tapped the paper with his index finger. “As I said, this is all you need to know for the present, but I believe your skills are required.”
“I really can’t understand why they need me. There are many capable code breakers engaged in the Intelligence Service. Have they discovered anything further about my father’s murder?”
“Murder? I thought your father died of a heart attack.”
“Oh, it was documented so, but only an idiot would presume my father’s death was from natural causes?”
“I will not enquire about the idiot’s identity, as I am fearful you might cite the King himself.” His eyes darkened. “I have no information of your past, madam, only of your immediate future, which is to secure your passage on my vessel. So please let us not waste time with your protests.”
He sat back in his chair with the air of a person who had won the argument. And he had of course – all she had done was show herself up in the poorest light possible by letting her fear rule her tongue. She needed to stop antagonising this man and work on a solution. She schooled her features into a more amenable expression.
“As I said, Captain, I have no wish to leave my ship at this moment. I have to supervise the purchase of a cargo.” She had a far more harrowing reason for not wanting to go aboard the naval vessel, but she could hardly discuss the subject of that with him.
“If you have documents for me to decipher, and I presume that is what is required of me, I will of course be willing to do so. You can keep anchored until I have completed them, and then I can return to my ship. I give you my word that I will make my way to England as soon as possible, under my own resources. You will not then have the encumbrance of having to sail with me.” She allowed herself to relax momentarily, satisfied her suggestion was sensible and cooperative.
***
Adam would have liked nothing better than to carry out her wishes, but his orders were clear – and he was unaccustomed to having them questioned by any man, let alone a woman who displayed no sense of honour, control, or duty.
“I regret that will not do, Mrs. Charlesworth. I will give you one hour to get yourself ready, put your affairs in order, and present yourself for departure.”
Clearly enraged by his reply, she suddenly stood up and Adam wondered if she was going to land a punch his way. Thankfully, she pressed her palms down on the desk and addressed him in a dangerous tone.
“And would you like me whistled on board or landed via the hold in a cheese barrel?”
“I really do not care as long as you arrive.”
They exchanged a long hostile stare until he finally sighed.
“Madam, please sit down. My upbringing makes it impossible for me stay seated when a lady is standing.”
She remained glaring at him in silence for a few moments and then lowered herself back into her chair.
Adam watched her wrestling with her anger, and was at a loss at how to proceed, although he was careful not to reveal this. He was used to dealing with men of all stations; men who in the main were anxious to carry out their duties, but she was going to be no usual addition to his ship’s company. He would rather have had to take on two dozen of the worst hard-faced bruisers, than this insolent female. At least with the former he would know how to handle them.
He had heard of her father – by reputation only, as England’s most talented code breaker. Adam wondered why the man had felt the need to pass his incredible knowledge and skills down to a woman, albeit his daughter. He knew the skills of this profession were usually kept within families, but he had never known a female being schooled in such a way. It was ludicrous. She obviously didn’t have the fortitude or discipline to carry out the tasks now required of her, or she wouldn’t have turned her back on her country.
Believing he now had the upper hand, he continued. “I have documents for your attention on board, but I also have instructions to deliver you to a specified destination.”
Her head shot up. “What documents and what destination, Captain? Surely we are going to England. I assumed I was to go back home.”
“That is why you should have waited for my ship as you were told. I cannot reveal the destination at present.”
She looked at him in disgust. “You do not trust me?”
“No, madam, frankly I do not.” His eyes met hers with uncompromising censure. “Your actions in the last few days have caused me to doubt your judgement and your sense of duty. However, I can understand your reluctance to embark on a journey that may very well be hazardous in the present climate.”
Her chin jerked up at his slight on her character, but she bit back her anger and looked puzzled by his words. “Has Addington declared a resumption of the war at last?”
“Not officially,” he replied, “but it is expected imminently. Peace crumbles by the hour – not surprising given the foundation it was built on. The brief ceasefire has only given Napoleon time to regroup and replenish his troops and ships.”
Her face turned serious as she nodded. “Yes, certainly the activities of both sides show no sign of fulfilling all the conditions of the treaty, signed barely a year ago.”
Adam was taken aback by her words. At least they agreed on something.
He watched her, wondering what plan she was calculating behind those spectacles. His voice softened a fraction; despite his resentment towards the woman. Coming aboard his ship, with its lack of comforts, would be an unpleasant prospect for any female.
“I will do all I can to make your stay on my ship as comfortable as possible.” He paused. “As long as you cooperate,” he added firmly.
***
Cooperate. Jane shuddered at the word. Although resigned to leaving her ship, she knew she would find it impossible to cope with this captain’s patronising treatment. How dare he judge her! He knew nothing of what she had already sacrificed for this confounded war. She gritted her teeth and forced the words out. “I really have no choice, but to comply with your orders, it seems. However, Captain, if the Admiralty had acted honourably when I last assisted them, I would have been willing to help them again – without this outrageous abduction. I have to say your diplomatic skills are sorely in need of improvement.”
“Another rebuke, Mrs. Charlesworth! You seem to have a low opinion of a great number of my skills. No doubt I can change your mind once you are installed safely under my command.” He stood, and referred to his timepiece. “A boat will return for you in an hour. Please be ready, we will be sailing as soon as you are on board.”
She watched the broad-shouldered tyrant disappear. So, that was that. One hour and she would have to leave her ship – her sanctuary for the last year. She had not decoded a single thing since she had left England and she could not quite believe they had not recruited some other talent to replace her. She had, of course, learned from the best possible teacher – her father. But even so, why the intrigue? Where were they taking he
r? She shuddered at the prominent name that commanded her services. She had to go, of course, she had no choice and she was intelligent enough to realise Captain Marston had no choice but to carry out his orders, but it was going to be a bleak journey.
Duty was not her first sentiment just at this moment, but if the war was about to resume and her skills were needed, she had to comply. She owed that much to her father’s good name, if nothing else. But to the establishment she owed nothing but resentment.
When news of her husband’s death at sea had been received, she had been assisting the Admiralty. They had granted release from her deciphering duties and provided her with a passage on a naval frigate to Gibraltar to take ownership of the Elinora. It was on this journey back to her ship that her trust in the establishment had been shattered. She prayed this captain commanded a more disciplined vessel, but if not she would be prepared this time. She unlocked the desk drawer and took out a leather case, opened it, and ran her hand over the pair of elegant pistols. They had belonged to her father. She dashed away an unexpected tear and quickly flipped the case shut at the sound of the door opening, and then relaxed as Celine came and sat opposite, as ever in tune with her thoughts.
“You won’t be alone, Jane. We will leave together – there is no use arguing.”
Jane knew she should argue the point, but it would be good to have Celine with her, although she wasn’t sure if the arrogant captain would allow it.
She nodded at Celine in silent acknowledgment, and then gathered her thoughts to the immediate tasks that needed her attention. She had always been proud of the skills she had learned from her father and the important work she had completed for her country, but right now, for the first time in her twenty-five years, she cursed her intelligence.
Chapter Two
Roused by the scurrying of feet and the ringing of the ship’s bell, Jane padded across the cabin she had been allocated and looked out on a calm blue sea. Eight square feet and a stern window – it was good accommodation for a frigate, she had the grace to realise that, even if its starkness felt like a prison cell. Noting the position of the rising sun and the ship’s direction, she pondered their destination.
Jane had grown up surrounded with books, cyphers, and mathematical formulas, and she had thrived on it. Her mother died when she was two years old and since that time her father had always kept her close to his side. He had indulged her inquisitive mind and she could remember as a child how she used to beg him to set her puzzles and simple codes to solve. It had been a game at first, but one that she had never tired of. By the time she had reached her twenties she had become almost as skilled a cryptologist as her father.
She never understood why he had suddenly decided to pack her off for a visit to Bath the week before he died. When she returned the house was empty, her father already buried. A heart attack, they had said, and her world had broken into a thousand pieces of misery.
She had married Andrew Charlesworth in haste, not wanting to be sent back to Bath and the inevitable round of husband-hunting that would surely follow. Andrew had been a great friend of her father and she needed someone to share his memory as fondly as she would. The marriage was convenient, comfortable and, as it turned out, very short. But her memories of her husband were of friendship; all the love in her heart had always belonged to her father.
Her thoughts turned to her present surroundings as she recalled her introduction to the officers after her arrival yesterday evening. They had been polite, stiff, and wary in their welcome, obviously unsure on how to treat her. The only friendly words had come from the second lieutenant, William Forbes, who had shared some helpful advice about the running of the ship. The captain had ignored her completely after appearing on the quarterdeck to check that she had embarked without causing any trouble.
She had slept with a pistol under her pillow, but even so it had been a troubled night which had left her tired and low-spirited. Her recollections were interrupted as she heard voices outside her door. They were instantly recognisable as the calm tones of Celine and the agitated voice of the gun room steward. Jane smiled, instantly cheered. It was good to have her along, even though she felt guilty about Celine’s presence on board. She would have been safer left on the Elinora.
Celine entered with a bowl of water and set in down on the table.
“Is that what all the arguing is about?” Jane frowned, and nodded towards the bowl. “Celine, you know the importance of respecting fresh water supplies on board.”
“Fiddle faddle! One bowlful will not be missed – you have to wash after all,” she muttered, tidying the cabin briskly before rummaging around in Jane’s sea chest.
“Celine! Will you stop fussing? I have not suddenly become helpless just because we have moved ships.”
“No, Jane.” Her friend’s dark eyes held a warning. “It is best in the circumstances that I act as your maid, as the captain signed me on the books for. I do not fit into the mode of companion.”
Jane knew she was right; as the owner of the Elinora, she had been free to run things as she pleased, without prejudice and convention. She was already beginning to feel the constraints of propriety expected on this vessel. “You will be treated with respect on this ship, Celine. I will make sure of it, even if you are masquerading as my maid.”
She finished dressing swiftly, between dodging Celine’s overly helpful hands, and then changed her voice into one of haughty disdain. “Well, servant, you better get down to the galley and fetch me my breakfast, and make haste – I am exceedingly hungry and have much to do today.”
“Aye, Aye, ma’am.” Celine grinned and turned gracefully, curtseyed and started to back out of the cabin with her head bowed. But before she left the room they both dissolved in giggles. Only Celine was capable of lifting her spirits in such oppressive circumstances. They both shared a strong and sometimes wicked sense of humour, which they had often used in retaliation against the more offensive people who had tried to destroy their friendship.
Jane good-naturedly threw her discarded night rail at the departing figure, which missed, flew through the open cabin door and floated down over the head of Ben Blackton, the young midshipman. He stood like a ghost fringed in Brussels lace. Drawing the garment swiftly from his person he looked at it in horror as if it would spring up and bite him.
Celine gently took it from him. “Well caught, sir.” And stifling another giggle, she left them.
The midshipman blinked and fought studiously to recall the message he had been given to deliver. “Morning, sir…umm, I mean, madam. The captain sends his respects, and would you please join him in the main cabin in half an hour?” He spluttered out the message, his face now bathed in a deep pink glow. Jane recovered her composure quickly, remembering the need for protocol now she was part of this starchy institution.
“Thank you – Mr. Blackton, isn’t it?” He could not be more than fourteen.
He nodded, his blue eyes wide and cautious.
“I will, of course, attend the captain,” she replied, giving him an encouraging smile, which appeared to fluster him even more.
Turning with a “Yes, ma’am,” he retreated with undisguised relief.
Jane watched him disappear. She could never understand why the Navy took on midshipmen so young. They were no more than children yet were expected to order grown experienced seamen around and to lead them into battle. She found this, as she did many of the traditions of naval life, extremely ridiculous.
Her senses shifted to the welcome smell of frying bacon, detected amongst the other less savoury smells of the ship, and eagerly awaited Celine’s return with breakfast, and not so eagerly, the meeting with the captain.
***
Adam glanced across his desk at his officers who he had assembled to explain the appearance of two rather unusual additions to the ship’s roll. He wasn’t happy about taking aboard two woman, sensing that it had doubled the potential for trouble. But he had failed to engage a suitable female servant at
the last port so he was obliged to agree. There were no other women on his ship, and she could not sail without a lady’s maid. He had already noted the close friendship between the two women, which worried him somewhat. Tall and striking, the African carried herself with poise and confidence, not at all like a servant.
He had told his two senior officers as much as he deemed necessary. Mrs. Charlesworth’s presence on board was not to be discussed with anyone. Most importantly, they were charged with her safety. It was to be known about the men that any disrespect made towards her would be severely punished.
Samuel Grant, the first lieutenant, shifted uneasily in his seat. “Captain, is she to have the run of the ship? If so, we will never be able to relax, a lady’s presence requires a certain level of behaviour. In all my thirty years at sea, I have never encountered female passengers on a fighting ship.”
“I am sure you can all make an effort to curb any inappropriate activities for a few weeks,” Adam replied curtly. “In any case, the lady is used to life at sea and I am sure will exhibit a little tolerance.” Her language and sentiments from yesterday still rang in his ears and he rather thought the tolerance would be borne mostly by his officers.
“She won’t be used to taking orders, though, Captain.” Will Forbes smiled. “She is accustomed to being in command, as far as I could make out yesterday.”
Adam, fully aware of the fact, scowled at his subordinate whose amused look instantly faded. His golden-haired, young second lieutenant possessed a far too easy manner with the opposite sex. Adam was sharply reminded how difficult life was going to be with two attractive woman aboard. However he was not about to let any female challenge his authority. He would keep Jane Charlesworth’s movements under strict control.
“She, of course, will not concern herself with the running of the ship, or its occupants. And you, Mr. Forbes, will not concern yourself with any of her commands. Any more questions?” The expression on his face told his audience that he was done with the subject, and they wisely remained silent.
