Her Heart's Captain (2 page)

“Well, he's only fourteen, after all,” Lady Garvin muttered in sullen defense of her beloved boy. “All young boys love adventure.”

“Do you think I don't know that? I ain't a nincompoop. I ain't even blamin' him for makin' a mull of his schoolin'. At least he admits to his limitations, which is more than you do.”

“Are you saying, Uncle,” Jenny asked, leaning forward and studying the earl worriedly, “that you don't think Robbie should continue at Harrow?”

“I'm sayin' that he
won't
continue. He's comin' home at the end of this week.”

“Coming
home
? In the middle of term?” Lady Garvin gasped.

“No point in wastin' any more time there,” the earl responded. “I've arranged somethin' else for him. I've got the lad a berth on a naval vessel.”

The two women stared at him, horror-struck. “A
naval vessel?
” Lady Garvin pulled herself to her feet, trembling in every limb. “Have you taken leave of your
senses?
”

“Don't enact me a Cheltenham tragedy, woman. What're you tremblin' for? A naval vessel ain't a prison, y'know. And with Boney beaten, we ain't even at
war
.”

Lady Garvin began to pace about the room in agitation. “I won't permit you to do this! You may be the boy's guardian, but a mother must have
some
rights. Surely the authorities will not allow you to tear a fourteen-year-old child from the arms of his mother!”

“Will you
listen
to yourself, Margaret Garvin? You're speakin' the most confounded foolishness. A fourteen-year-old youth is not a
child
. Do you know that a young man who wants a career in the navy must set off to sea at the age of
twelve
? Instead of carryin' on like a demented shrew, you should be thankin' your stars that I was able to accomplish the feat of procurin' him a berth at his advanced age.”

“
Thank my stars
? For having my son torn from me and forced to go to sea, to face the hazards of the elements and who knows what else? It's
you
who are demented, if you ask me. I don't see why he needs the Navy. After all, he'll inherit the title one day.”

“Yes, and that's about all. I ain't rich, ma'am. There's precious little he'll inherit except the title. The Yorkshire property is becomin' more of a drain than an asset, y' know. He'll be hard pressed to keep even Willowrise up to its present standard. Besides, even if I
could
leave the lad rich, I wouldn't want him to spend his days as a useless wastrel, would you? You want the boy to amount to somethin', don't you?”

“Yes, of course, but—”

“But me no buts, ma'am. If you'll still your tongue for a minute, I'll explain what my influence with the Admiralty has accomplished for your son. I've got him an appointment as a
midshipman
! On His Majesty's Ship
Providential
.” His thin lips stretched into a smile of triumph. “Yes, you may well stare. It's true. A
midshipman
, on my word.”

“You really
must be
demented. Am I supposed to be
impressed
by that?” his sister-in-law said scornfully.

“But Mama,” Jenny interjected gently, “it really
is
impressive, you know. It is my understanding that a boy must serve as a sort of errand boy for the ship's captain a long while before he's appointed midshipman.”

“That's right,” the earl said, getting to his feet. “It takes
years
of service. That's why the boys all start at eleven or twelve. Fortunately for your Robbie, my friends at the Admiralty found a vacancy for midshipman on Captain Allenby's ship and were able to prevail upon him to accept a lad of Robbie's age and lack of experience.”

“But I don't
wish
my son to—”

“What have your wishes to do with anything?” the earl rasped. “Your
son
wishes it! He was beside himself with delight when I stopped back at Harrow to tell him the news.”

Lady Garvin gaped again. “He
knows
? And he's
glad
?”

“Of course! It's a corkin' good opportunity for him. I tell you, ma'am, this will be the makin' of the lad. The discipline of shipboard life will be good for his character, and the trainin' will make an excellent foundation for his future career.”

“His future career?” Lady Garvin echoed, blinking in confusion.

“Yes, his career. What else have I been speakin' of? It's plain that any scholarly career is out of the question. You didn't want the boy to become one of those wastrels who spends his life in gamin' and carousin', did you?” He shook a finger in her face. “That's where he'd have ended if I'd left his future up to you. Now there's no tellin' what sort of success he can make of himself.”

“Success?” she murmured thoughtfully.

“Yes, success. With my influence, he may not have to serve the full six years before sittin' for the lieutenant's examination … and once he's a lieutenant, I'll see to it that his promotions come thick and fast. If he has any talent at all, he could end up an admiral.”

“An …
admiral
!” the mother breathed, sinking down on the sofa, stunned.

“Why not? I've started the boy on a road that can lead to wealth and prestige.
Now
are you ready to thank your stars?”

Margaret, Lady Garvin, didn't thank her stars right away, but after Robbie had returned home, quite overjoyed at having been released from studies in mid-term and wildly eager to embark on the new course his uncle had arranged for him, she began to abandon her objections. Now that the war with France was over, she reasoned, perhaps the Navy
was
the best place for him. And after Robbie had explained—with eyes shining in excited expectation—that the berth was on the
Providential
, a real ship-of-the-line, carrying more than sixty guns, with a crew of over six-hundred men and a main deck that measured over one-hundred-and-seventy feet, and that he was already one of its midshipmen in spite of the fact that he'd never set foot on a ship in all his life, she became quite impressed with the entire arrangement.

Soon she began to boast about the plan as if it had been her own. She told everyone who came within earshot—Lord and Lady Clement, their neighbors; the vicar, Mr. Boyce and his wife; Jenny's bosom-bow, Andrea Clement; Mr. Jubb, the bailiff of their estate; Mrs. Elvin, the seamstress; and every tradesman, servant and passer-by—that her son was soon leaving to become “a commissioned officer on a magnificent vessel—His Majesty's Ship
Providential
, you know!” and that he was destined, one day soon, “to become the most famous admiral of the fleet.”

“The
Providential
, you say?” asked Alfred, Lord Clement, his eyebrows raised with interest as soon as the news was imparted to him. Lord Clement was the highest peer in the neighborhood, the largest landowner for miles round and the possessor of the region's oldest title. Clement Hall was huge and impressive, making Lady Garvin's property, Willowrise, seem paltry in comparison. Willowrise was the second-finest house in the area, but in any other town the size of Wyndham it would have been considered the first. It sat high on a hill, with an avenue of willows leading up to it, designed in the elegant Palladian style and very grand. It filled Lady Garvin's breast with venom to have had, all these years, only the second-highest place in the community. But at least
she
had a son. Lord and Lady Clement had only Andrea. And when her son became a famous admiral, she would take second place to none!

“The
Providential
, eh?” his lordship repeated with excitement. “That's my nephew's ship, you know. My sister Dulcie's second son. Tristram Allenby's his name. Made his name and fortune during the late hostilities. A fine, courageous sailor. Your boy is indeed fortunate to sail with him.”

“So I've been told,” Lady Garvin responded with an obvious lack of enthusiasm. Even in
this
matter the Clements were trying to get the better of her. The captain of the vessel
had
to be their relation. She ground her teeth in irritation but quickly recovered her smile. “The whole enterprise promises to be fortunate,” she told Lord Clement with charming if obvious emphasis. “I hope you will tell your sister to tell her son that
he
is fortunate to have
my boy
on his staff. Very fortunate indeed.”

Jenny, although not given to effusion in her mother's style, was nevertheless equally optimistic about her brother's future. The boy was his sister's beloved, admired darling, and as she sat stitching his monogram on the new shirts they'd had made for his dress uniforms, she happily envisioned a future for him every bit as glorious as the one her mother dreamed of. She would miss him when he was away at sea, of course, but she was very proud of him.

Not in her wildest imaginings, however, could she have guessed that her brother's very promising future would directly endanger her own.

Chapter Two

As the day of Robbie's departure neared, both Lady Garvin and Jenny were beset with misgivings. Lady Garvin, not one to keep her feelings hidden, expressed to Jenny her fears and sense of desolation as they sat together in the sewing room, putting the finishing touches on the boy's new shirts. “What if something dreadful should happen to him?” she asked, her eyes clouded by inner visions of shipwreck and disaster.

Jenny shook her head. “Don't think of such things, Mama,” she said in her low, soothing voice. “Such fears are very natural, of course, but we've both agreed, haven't we, that the Navy is the best place for Robbie? It's in his best interest—and ours, too—if we behave bravely and keep from troubling his mind with our own anxieties.”

Lady Garvin was convinced of Jenny's good sense, and she bravely held her tongue, letting her tears fall only at night in the privacy of her bedroom. Meanwhile, the two ladies stitched his monograms, ordered fresh linens to be made for him, supervised his new, manly haircut (the sight of which caused Lady Garvin to drip a few sentimental tears in spite of herself), sewed the insignia on the coats of his uniforms, selected his hats and packed all his belongings tenderly into a new, highly polished wooden trunk with brass fittings. When Robbie objected that they were packing too many things, telling his mother and sister that he was certain that “we sailing men” carry only a few items of clothing in a small, canvas seabag, his mother insisted that he was mistaken. “Surely
officers
don't carry seabags,” she declared firmly. However, before they were done with the packing, they had filled not only the trunk but a portmanteau, two hatboxes and a leather case filled with toilet articles.

When the time for departure neared, it suddenly occurred to Lady Garvin that she and Jenny could delay the separation by accompanying the boy to Portsmouth. “Oh Mama,” Jenny exclaimed, “what a splendid idea! We can see him off right from the wharf!”

Robbie, who'd been struggling to control his own feelings of apprehenson, willingly agreed to their company. On the morning of the day before Robbie was due to sign on, the three Garvins—Jenny, Robbie and their mother—climbed into their carriage and set out from Willowrise for what would be a three-day journey for the ladies and the beginning of a six-month journey for the boy.

By the time the carriage arrived at the Grey Gull Inn at Portsmouth, it was long after dark. The inn had been recommended to them by their Gloucester neighbor, Lord Clement, but it was a small, disappointing hostelry with draughty windows and only one private dining room which was far from clean. Lady Garvin, whose stomach was delicate in the best of circumstances, was taken ill with a digestive upset during the night and by morning was in no condition to rise from her bed. Queasy, miserable and unable to hide her tears, she was forced to bid her son farewell from her bed. “I hope you don't mind, dearest,” she explained weakly, “but I'm completely incapable of facing a trip to the wharf and standing about in the cold sea breeze just to watch your ship depart.”

“I understand, Mama,” the boy assured her, bending over and kissing her cheek. “It was good of you to come this far.”

Lady Garvin, with a cry of anguish, clutched him around the neck. “Oh, my beloved child!” she wept. “You
will
take c-care of yourself, won't you?”

“Don't worry, Mama. And don't cry. Please don't cry. I'll be home in a few months, you know. It's just the same as if I were away at school.”

“It's not at all the same,” his mother whimpered, falling back against the pillows and dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her comforter. “But I mustn't dwell on … I promised Jenny I'd be brave.” She tried courageously to get herself under control. “Goodbye, my love,” she said, managing a pathetic little smile. “Write as often as you can.”

Jenny (after being assured by her mother that the digestive disorder which had troubled her during the night would soon be brought under control by the avoidance of any of the inn's dreadful food, a few additional hours of rest and the ingestion of some strong, hot tea) decided that she needn't deny herself the opportunity to see her brother embark. Leaving her mother under the protection of their coachman and the ministrations of a solicitous chambermaid, she set off from the inn with her brother in a hired carriage.

As they drew close to the dock, Robbie's qualms seemed to fade away. His pulse began to race in eager anticipation of the adventures that lay just over the horizon. “Can you smell the ocean?” he crowed, throwing open his carriage window and sniffing the air. He bounced on the seat, grinning in delight. “Isn't that the most exciting smell in the world?”

Jenny nodded her agrement and pressed her nose to her window to take in all the colorful sights. The streets were narrow and crowded with carriages, carts, wheelbarrows and pedestrians. There was too much activity for the eye to catch or the mind to grasp all at once. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry. All sorts of persons—from stiff-collared, dapper gentlemen to scruffy, ill-clad children—were skirting and dodging anyone or anything that impeded their progress to what surely must have been urgent and important destinations. Jenny watched in amusement as a top-hatted but shabby fellow, carrying a large parcel tied with cord, leaped with one jump over a wheelbarrow and hurried on his way without a change of expression. She also noted a woman in a voluminous, plum-colored cloak wending her way calmly among the vehicles while carrying a child in her arms and holding two others by the hand. Jenny stared at the intrepid woman in admiration and would have continued to observe her progress all the way down the street if the carriage hadn't taken an abrupt turn at that moment. But the vehicle lurched sharply to the left and suddenly they were on the wharf.