Cut and Run: The Fourth Book in the Fighting Sail Series (39 page)

      
There was a slight intake of breath from the senior captain, but Paterson was well into his stride by now, and continued quite unabashed.
 

      
“I have served with Mr King for some while. He is an exceptional officer: I find it strange, and not a little worrying, that one such as he should be allowed to rot on the beach for want of a berth.”

      
“This is not the time to discuss the merits of the Navy, sir!” The senior captain spoke with an edge to his voice; at any moment the conversation might turn into a full-scale argument.

      
“I should think there never will be, sir,” Paterson replied. His complexion was returning to normal now, in fact he appeared completely relaxed. “There are many defects in both our promotional systems, but I submit that the merchant service has no pretence.”

      
“Pretence?” Jervis was eyeing Paterson sharply.

      
“Positions in the East India Company may be purchased; it is a well-known fact, and one the Navy likes to taunt us with at every opportunity. Yet your own system is just as corrupt, if not so open.”

      
“Mr Paterson, I fail to see quite…”

      
“Mr King is a capable officer who has proven himself in action, yet he was forced to leave the Navy and serve elsewhere in order to put bread upon his table. There are young lieutenants aplenty in his position. Good men, but brushed aside to allow the sons of admirals, peers and politicians to take up valuable seagoing positions in their place. If it is a system that you approve of my Lord, then I am surprised.”

      
For several seconds no one said a word. Then Jervis sat back in his chair and regarded the mate.

      
“It is an honest opinion, Mr Paterson, I grant you that. And I thank you for sharing it with me, 'though I chance that you might not have been quite so bold were you directly under my command.” His face hardened slightly. “But still I have responsibilities, and it would go badly were I to show favouritism outside of the service.” He nodded again, and seemed to consider the matter again, before leaning forward and rising from his seat.

      
“Gentlemen, I will not detain you longer, I am certain you have much to attend to, as indeed do we all. I congratulate you once more on your prize and will arrange for her transfer without delay. We can provide a crew. There are sufficient men who can be trusted to return to the fleet, as well as those whose injuries mean they are of no further use to His Majesty.” He paused and seemed to watch Paterson particularly carefully while the three men stood to leave. “Of course, this will in no way influence any conclusions that the court might arrive at. Your prize will be treated as a hired ship until a proper decision can be made, and you will be reimbursed in full for her use.”
 

      
The admiral's eyes were still set on Paterson. “Were you in the King's service, sir?” he asked quietly.

      
Paterson stopped in the act of turning to leave. “Me, my Lord? No, I regret not.”

      
Jervis smiled and nodded. “No, I thought as much. Gentlemen, I wish you all a good day.”

* * *

      
Manning had sorted through the surgeon's instruments and taken those that belonged to him. Now there were only his personal possessions to collect. He walked through to the steerage mess and found Langlois sitting in his customary position at the small table. The man was sketching once more, although there seemed precious little in the room worth recording.

      
“Patient on deck?” he asked, glancing up from his work.

      
Manning nodded, “I believe so.”

      
Langlois returned to the pad, his pencil loosely held and apparently moving of its own accord. His eyes were half closed and he seemed so relaxed that, for a moment, Manning wondered if he had been indulging in his own particular style of recreation.

      
“Are you leaving us?” The words came from somewhere far away, but when the surgeon's mate turned, Langlois came readily from his trance and looked into his eyes.

      
Manning cleared his throat. “Yes, Kate…my wife and I are heading back to England.” His tone was flat in an effort to dissuade further conversation.

      
“I am sorry to hear it,” Langlois returned briefly to his work, but it was clear that the moment was lost, and soon he thrust the pad aside.

      
“There is news,” Manning continued, despite himself.

      
“Indeed? But not from England, I fancy?”

      
“As a matter of fact, yes. A packet arrived only yesterday,” Manning explained. “The wind that kept us from gaining the coast was fair for them; they made a quick passage. I believe there be post for all.” His ditty bag was full now, there were just the two aprons to collect from the store, and the purser to see. He really did not have time to waste on idle conversation.

      
“Not bad, I trust?” Langlois persisted.

      
Manning picked up his belongings and was about to leave the room. “Bad enough; my wife's father is not well. She has expressed a desire to be with him once more.” He paused, then continued in a slightly lower tone. “It was fortunate that
Pevensey Castle
was recognised at anchor, otherwise we might not have heard until Madeira.”

      
“That is sad indeed; she is a splendid woman.”

      
The anger built up suddenly. Manning did not want for an argument, but there was something about Langlois, and his smooth manner, that always riled him. And this was probably his last opportunity to tell him so.

      
“She is indeed a splendid woman, that is why I married her.” The words, though innocent enough, were delivered in such a way that they might as easily have been a dreadful accusation, and Langlois reacted instantly.

      
“I do not doubt it,” he said, an expression of mild confusion on his face. “And you are to be congratulated—a lucky man indeed.”

      
Manning paused. He knew he was being unreasonable. He had listened to all of Kate's assurances and was well aware of his own defects—inordinate jealousy had haunted him his entire life. He could not possess, create or achieve anything without the accompanying fear that it would be taken from him. And it was a sad fact that, the more valuable or dear the attribute, the greater his terror of its loss.

      
“Marriage is a precious thing,” he said, hating himself a little as he did. “You might do well to remember that in the future.”

      
There was a moment's silence as Langlois considered this, then his face reddened slightly.

      
“I can assure you, Robert, I have never held any designs upon your wife,” he said. “She is a good friend, and I value her as such, no more.”

      
“But the drawings; those sketches…” Manning waved his hands foolishly in the air. “You capture her so well, I…”

      
“You cannot believe that somehow we are not in love, or at the least, that I am not attracted to her?”

      
Manning half closed his eyes and nodded.

      
“Then I am indeed sorry—sorry in so many ways.” The silence continued as if time itself was suspended. Then Langlois indicated the chair opposite, and Manning slumped down.

      
“I will never marry,” Langlois began. “Not that I do not heartily respect women, and indeed enjoy their company greatly, but my preferences fall in other ways.”

      
Manning went to speak, but was cut short by the fifth mate's raised palm. “Worry not, I do not confess to any illegality, either moral, spiritual or legal. But it is a fact that, when young, I was dismissed the Navy due to an unusual affection I held for a fellow officer. Set ashore, I think the term is, although in truth the act was a little more unpleasant than the simple boat ride the rubric might imply. Since then I have vowed to a life of celibacy, and it is a commitment I know I shall keep, through no obligation other than my own sincere wish for it to be so.” He smiled, and Manning found himself smiling in return.

      
“I said you were a lucky man,” he continued, “and indeed I maintain that you are, though you have nothing to fear from me, or anyone else, if my judgement is correct. But I urge you to consider your ways. As I have said, I know nothing of marriage, nor will I ever; however I do think I have learnt a little of human nature.”

      
There was silence for a moment, then Langlois continued.
 

      
“You spoke of your wife as if she be a possession; indeed, it is the way of the world, and I freely admit to being quite at odds with it to disagree. But I would say that, in your particular instance, it is wrong. Wrong, and inherently dangerous. Far better, surely, to regard her as a fellow human being, one you can share pleasure with, and allow her, in turn, to spend her affections where she may. If you insist on inflicting your ownership upon her, you only make her an attribute, and as I think you may be aware, attributes can so easily be lost.”

* * *

      
“Well, that was hardly expected,” King said when they were settled, and the cutter was pulling away from
Victory
. “Don't suppose old Jarvie has been spoken to like that in many a moon.”

      
“Me'be I stepped too close to the mark,” Paterson said, although there was little regret in his tone. “My tongue carried me away as usual. But those stuffed up Navy types do get under my skin. So full of righteousness and morals, yet their promotions are as crooked as a dog's hind leg.”

      
“I think you might be a little unfair, Mr Paterson,” Drayton murmured. “The interest system is ripe for change to be sure, but I gather that it is rarely applied in the more important cases. And it is not completely unknown for talent and fortitude to be rewarded.”

      
“As you will, sir, but that is not my experience,” Paterson maintained. “And I am surprised that someone as straight as Lord St Vincent claims to be, stands for it. Promotion and position should be based entirely on merit, it is the only fair way; anything else is plain dishonest—forgive me if I speak plainly.”

      
“It is your habit, John,” King grinned.

      
“And you certainly made your feelings pretty plain with St Vincent.” Drayton's tone was neutral, even though he also had a twinkle in his eye. “I doubt that there are many who could have misunderstood.”

      
They were nearing the privateer now, and King looked up at her quiet, graceful lines with more than a hint of regret.

      
“There is a deal to be done before the Navy has her,” he said reflectively. “I wish to see she is left in as good a condition as possible.”

      
“That is completely understandable,” Drayton agreed. “Besides, we shall gain a better penny for her were she well set up.”

      
“Shall I send the carpenter and his mates?” Paterson asked.

      
“If they can be spared. The work will last a day, no more.”

      
“I expect it will take as long for the Navy to gather a crew.”

      
King nodded. “We will meet again on the morrow in
Pevensey Castle
,” he said. “I'd be obliged if you'd send the barge for the people.”

      
“Signal when they are ready,” Paterson nodded, “'though I expect you will wish to meet with her new commander.”

      
King looked at him dolefully. “It is a pleasure I can easily forgo,” he said.

* * *

      
“It really is beautiful,” Elizabeth told Nichols as she looked across the anchorage towards Lisbon. He was recovering exceptionally well, and now sat comfortably in his hammock chair drawing in the last of the afternoon sunshine.

      
“All foreign harbours look the same,” Nichols said. “Seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

      
“Well, I want to see them all.” She was smiling at him as she turned back, and the sun shone through her blonde hair, making it glow about her face like a golden halo. “Or as many as possible—the most anyone can fit into a life.” Her expression suddenly became serious when she realised she was forgetting herself. “Just as soon as you are better, of course.”

      
Nichols pursed his lips. “Well, we'd better make sure that both can be arranged,” he said seriously.

      
“Prize crew'll be coming back from the privateer at any time,” Langlois told them as he walked across to where Nichols sat. “If you wish, you can take the barge back, or the cutter's in the water come to that. You'll be sharing with Mr Manning and his wife, I chance?”