Her Heart's Captain (26 page)

Andrea lifted her bent head. “Will you be … going anyway?”

Jenny looked back at her erstwhile friend sadly. “Yes, I think I shall. And I think, in spite of everything, that I shall have a … a l-lovely time.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Robbie received the bad news before he even boarded the ship. It was customary for the ship's officers to take up lodgings in the inn nearest the harbor while the first lieutenant organized the ship's quarters for the warrant officers and staff who were the vessel's central core. Only after this basic core of the ship's crew had been installed did the officers take their places aboard ship to receive the main crew. Meanwhile, they gathered at the inn, checked in with their immediate supervisors and awaited further orders. It was at the inn that Mr. Meachin, a sublieutenant under whom Robbie had served on the last voyage, told him the news. He was to be transferred.

Robbie was dumbfounded. “Are you sure? How do you know?”

“I saw the papers. Mr. Parslow had them on his desk when I checked in.”

Robbie bit his underlip so that Mr. Meachin should not see it tremble. “Is this your doing, Mr. Meachin?” he asked bluntly. “Were you not satisfied with my performance?”

“Nay, laddie,” the young officer assured him sympathetically. “I gave a good report of ye.” He threw a grin at the agonized boy. “Didn't say a word about yer bein' a lazy lout.”

Robbie was too devastated to laugh. “Then why do you suppose—?”

Mr. Meachin shrugged. “I thought ye'd asked fer it yerself.”

“No, never! Why should I have?”

The lieutenant shook his head. “I was as surprised as you are.”

Robbie felt desperate. “Is there anything I can do about it?” he asked, appalled.

“I dunno. Ye might talk to the first officer. But ye know how busy he'll be until we're under way …” He looked at the boy's distraught face and sighed. “I'll see if I can get him to spare ye a minute or two.”

Robbie had to wait until the following day before he was granted an interivew. Mr. Parslow, the first officer, sat in his undersized room at the inn behind a table littered with papers, maps, plans, letters and lists. He had no time in which to waste words. “Sorry, Midshipman Garvin,” he said at once. “Here are the transfer papers. There hasn't been time yet for your reassignment, but you should hear from the Admiralty in a few weeks. Meanwhile, I suppose, you may consider yourself on leave.”

“But, sir, I don't wish for a transfer. Is there no way—?”

“Mr. Meachin told me you don't wish for it. This is most unusual, I admit, considering your satisfactory performance. But the papers were given to me by the captain himself. I don't see how anything can be done now.”

“Could I … see the captain, then?”

Mr. Parslow's eyebrows rose. “See the
captain
? Oh, I don't think so, Mr. Garvin. He doesn't have time to involve himself with the personal concerns of the middies, you know.”

“But, sir, could you at least
ask
him—?”

“No, I couldn't. You know what it's like the week before a sailing. He'd have my head if I pestered him with trifles. Sorry, Garvin.”

Robbie had been dismissed. He turned, disconsolate, to the door. “Mr. Parslow, sir,” he asked in a desperate last try, “don't I deserve at least an
explanation
? You said yourself that the transfer is unusual. Couldn't you ask the captain to see me on that basis?”

Mr. Parslow was clearly annoyed, but a quick look at the midshipman's disturbed face touched him. “The captain's not due for two days,” he said gruffly, “but if you're willing to wait around on the chance—and it's a very slim one—I'll see what I can do.”

Captain Allenby came aboard after the entire ship's company had been installed, and Mr. Parslow accompanied him on a full inspection. In spite of the captain's approval of the repairs and the manner in which the first officer had handled the preliminary organization, Mr. Parslow noticed that the captain seemed unusually brusque. Nevertheless, on the morning after the captain's arrival, after they'd gone over all the other matters on the morning's schedule, Mr. Parslow broached the subject of Midshipman Garvin. “He's requested permission to see you, sir. About the matter of having received a transfer without putting in for one.”

“I ordered the transfer myself,” Allenby replied, turning his attention to his charts. “Tell him to go home and await orders from the Admiralty.”

“I already have, sir. But the boy is clearly upset. He's been waiting for almost a week for an opportunity to have a word with you. It might make the blow easier for him to bear if you—”

The captain cut him off with a wave of the hand. “All right, Parslow, all right. Send him in.”

The first officer opened the cabin door and admitted the young midshipman. The lad was attired in full dress blues, with his hat tucked under his left arm. He saluted smartly.

“Well, Garvin, what is it?” the captain asked curtly, not turning from the table where he stood, in shirt-sleeves, studying the charts.

“It's about these transfer papers, sir. I was wondering, since I didn't put in a request for them, why I—”

“I issued them myself,” the captain told him. “Am I to take it that you object?”

“Well … yes, I
do
.”

Mr. Parslow did not at all approve of the boy's tone. “He means, sir,” he interrupted smoothly, throwing Robbie a reproving look, “that he's been very happy in his brief service on the
Providential
.”

“Has he indeed?” the captain muttered drily.

“Aye, sir, I have,” Robbie said earnestly.

The captain turned from the table on which his charts were spread and strolled to his desk. “Mr. Parslow, you may go about your duties. Midshipman Garvin and I can discuss this matter without you.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” the first lieutenant said, saluting briskly. Then, with a last warning glance at Robbie, he went quickly from the cabin.

The captain sat down behind his desk. “You may stand at ease, Garvin. This is not a court martial. There's no need to make yourself blue-deviled over this matter. There's nothing punitive in the transfer, you know. I've said nothing in my report to damage your swift progress to Admiral of the Fleet.”

Robbie reddened. “Did I give you the impression that I'm over-eager for promotion, sir? Is that the reason for—?”

“No, no, of course not.”

“Then I don't see why—”

Tris frowned at him. “Come now, fellow, you know the reason. Let's hear no more rubbish about how ‘happy' you are to be on board this ship. I think we both know how far that is from the truth.”

“But it
is
the truth, sir, I assure you! If my mother and sister made you think otherwise—”

“Dash it, boy, I don't wish to involve myself in a personal discussion of this matter. I simply wish to assure you that this is not a matter to cause you or your family the slightest grief. In a short while you'll be asigned to another ship—one, I'm sure, with equal or better opportunities for—”

“But I don't
want
another ship!” the boy burst out. “Do you think I don't know how desirable it is to win a berth on this ship? All the middies know that they get the best navigational training, the finest strategical experience, the fairest—”

“That's
enough
, Garvin.” Tris was becoming uncomfortable. He had not expected the boy to object to the transfer. Quite the reverse, in fact. He hadn't counted on being pressed for an explanation. “It won't do you any good to go on in this vein. My mind is made up. Take it in stride. In a few months, it won't matter a jot. Good luck to you.”

He turned his attention to the log book on his desk. Robbie, crushed, turned to go. “It's because you came to Wyndham, isn't it?” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” the captain asked, his head coming up angrily. “
What's
that you said?”

“Don't think you can deny it!” Robbie accused, turning around facing the captain bravely. “If you hadn't come to Wyndham and met my mother and sister, this would never have happened.”

Tris glowered at him. “I don't bring my personal business on board this ship!”

“Well, you did this time!” Robbie shot back. “If you didn't know anything about my personal life, you'd never even have
noticed
me.”

“Mr. Garvin,” Tris snapped, using his authority in place of his reason, “I don't like your tone.”

“I know,” the boy muttered, close to tears, “but what have I to lose now? Everyone always says how f-fair you are. Do you think it's fair to take it out on m-me just because … because …” He put up his chin belligerently. “… just because you had some sort of quarrel with my sister?”

Tris slammed his hand down on the desk furiously, making the poor boy jump. But he was angrier with himself than with Robbie. How had he made such a mull of this affair? “Your sister has nothing to do with this,” he said, keeping his anger under tight restraint. “It's just because I don't like personal involvement with my staff that I took this action.”

“But if the personal involvement is between you and Jenny—?” Robbie ventured.

“Damnation, Robbie,” Tris burst out, “I thought you'd be overjoyed! Why this sudden about-face now?”

“It's not an about-face. I never wanted to leave this ship.”

“That's not the impression I received from …” He looked at the boy with considerable chagrin. “But never mind all that. Just take my word for it that the transfer is for the best. Now get out of here and let me get back to work.”

“But—”

“Did you
hear
me, Mr. Garvin?
Out
!”

Robbie choked back a rush of tears. “Aye, aye, sir,” he managed to utter and turned away. “I
knew
, when Jenny slapped me that day, that I'd find myself in trouble,” he mumbled to himself as he shuffled to the door.

Tris lifted his head abruptly. “What was that you said?”

“Nothing, sir. Only aye, aye, sir.”

“No. After that.”

“Oh. Sorry, sir, it was … only grumbling.”

The captain got up and came around his desk. “It was something about Jenny.”

“Oh, yes. She slapped me that day, you see. I knew right off it would mean trouble.”

“She
slapped
you?”

“Yes, sir. Never did such a thing before in her life.”

Tris looked at the boy sharply. “But … why?”

“I don't really know. It was the day you paid us a visit … right after you left. I've never seen her in such a state, so I knew right off you'd quarreled.”

“You mean she just slapped you without provocation?”

Robbie had no idea why the captain was studying him so intently. “Well, I had only asked …” He hesitated.

“Go on. You had only asked what?”

“I'd only asked what she'd done to anger you.”

“And then she slapped you?”

Robbie blinked up at him. Why was the captain so interested? “Well, I may have asked her the question once or twice more before she did it.”

“But you said nothing else?”

“No, sir. Nothing.”

Tris turned back to his desk, his mind whirling. Had he been wrong in accusing Jenny of wishing to wed him for Robbie's sake? If that had been her goal, and she'd been angered by his failure to come up to scratch, she certainly wouldn't have slapped
Robbie
for it. This scrap of information opened up a host of new possibilities. He dropped down on his chair, staring ahead of him thoughtfully.

“Am I dismissed, sir?” Robbie asked from the door.

His eyes focussed on the boy's face. “If I let you stay on this ship, Mr. Garvin—”

The boy's eyes lit. “
Sir
?”

“—will you be able to forget the existence of any personal ties that may connect us?”

“Oh,
yes, sir
! I mean, aye, sir!”

“And you'll never come to me for special consideration, favors or promotions?”

“No, sir!”

“And you're aware, I trust, that life will henceforth be much harder on you than the others, not easier. My knowing you will give you no privileges at all. On the contrary, I'll be all the more likely to keep a critical eye on you. You'll have to watch yourself every minute, get up earlier, work harder and do better than all the other middies put together. Knowing all that, do you still wish me to rescind that transfer?”

“Aye, sir,” the boy said, grinning, “I do!”

“Very well, let me have those papers. Report to Mr. Parslow and tell him I've changed my mind. He'll reassign you.”

“Aye, aye, sir.
Thank
you, sir!”

Tris waved him away and turned his attention to his log. Robbie ran eagerly to the door, but there he paused. He turned and walked with trepidation back to the captain's desk. “Captain?”

Tris didn't look up. “Yes?”

“I just want to say … you won't be sorry. I promise.”

The captain looked up at him with a frown, but Robbie was almost certain he could detect a gleam of amusement in the back of his eyes. “Midshipman Garvin,” he said with gruff authority, “I have work to do, and so do you. Take yourself out of my sight!”

Chapter Twenty-two

As soon as Lady Rowcliffe received Jenny's tentatively worded response to her invitation, she sent her carriage to Wyndham to pick up the girl. Jenny could scarcely believe, as the carriage rumbled over the cobbled city streets, that it wasn't a dream. Everything had happened so quickly. Her mother had made no objection to her leaving (in fact she'd reminded Jenny that she'd tried for years to convince her to go to London to stay with her old friend Millicent Hopgood, but Jenny had refused. “Now,” she'd said, “you may at last have an opportunity to arrange an eligible match for yourself. After the last debacle, I was almost on the point on giving up hope.”), Sally Clement had given her the gift of a fur tippet to wear in town, Uncle Alistair had sent his blessing and three hundred pounds to cover her expenses, she'd packed one undersized portmanteau, and here she was!