Under Enemy Colors (46 page)

“The good opinion of such a respected officer would be reward enough, Lady Hertle.”

She favoured him with a youthful smile.

“He is not habitually so charming,” observed a voice, and Hayden turned to find Mrs Robert Hertle and her cousin returning from the terrace. “He has no small talk at all, I warn you.”

“I am very used to Navy men, Elizabeth, and know their ways as well as any. It should be noted that I have very little small talk myself, thank God, nor have either of you.” She apparently referred to the younger women.

“Why, Aunt, I am shocked to hear you say it. I can talk a great deal about fashion, carriages, events of no importance, engagements, foibles—”

“‘She said this’s; he said that’s,’” added Henrietta.

“And I know all the latest court gossip.”

“There is a false claim if ever I have heard one.”

Henrietta threw herself down in a chair. “I feel quite exhausted by all this small talk.”

“Oh, so do I,” agreed Mrs Hertle. “Shall we ever have supper, Aunt, or do you mean to starve us?”

“Is my niece’s behaviour not quite scandalous, Lieutenant Hayden? And Henrietta, to whom I am related in some vague and distant way, is just the same. In my day such behaviour would have begun the whispering. Do you know what they call me behind my back?”

“I do not, Lady Hertle,” Hayden lied.

“Aunt Bill! Can you believe the impertinence? I, the widow of an admiral who had the honour of being a Grand Commander of the Order of the Bath!”

“Shocking.”

“Oh, Aunt,” Mrs Hertle managed, laughing. “Henrietta tells me that the ton, the ladies within the circle of the Prince of Wales, are completely brazen. Why, they wear gowns so revealing that every man in London knows what only a husband once knew. You cannot name our behaviour scandalous when weighed against what has now become…common.”

Lady Hertle fanned herself affectedly. “I am so glad to have retired to my small house far from such spectacles.” A servant entered, bowing to the mistress. “Apparently I do have a supper for you, after all, Elizabeth. Starvation has been staved off once again.”

The dining room was capacious, though fell well short of being grand. Even so, it was a comfortable, elegantly appointed room, with a large dining table of teak wood, clearly brought back from somewhere in the Far East. A sizeable glass case displayed silver plate, much of it bestowed upon the late admiral for his many services.

Dinner was rather typically British, or more specifically English, something Hayden had learned to endure. Certainly, it was better than Navy food; soup, a course of fish, a roast duckling served with asparagus and peas, venison, plovers’ eggs in aspic jelly—all served
à la russe
. Sherry. Madeira. A chocolate confection. Coffee. Walnuts.

The footmen varied in their skill, and Hayden suspected one was actually the gardener dressed in livery for the occasion. The party was so small that there was little chance for a tête-à-tête, though he had happily been seated beside Henrietta, whose presence he could actually feel, as though she glowed like coals.

Lady Hertle was a skilled and gracious conversationalist, and clearly had been a Navy wife, for she soon revealed a great store of knowledge regarding the character of Lords Commissioners and admirals; more than Hayden could ever hope to know. When Hart’s name came up she tactfully steered the conversation away.

Like Mrs Hertle and Henrietta, she read widely, and spoke with equal knowledge of poetry, the plays of Shakespeare, the histories of Rome. In her youth, she had accompanied her husband to many a post where his function had been as much diplomatic as military, and clearly had a great love of travel. She encouraged Hayden and Robert to speak of the many places they had visited, and this was no small number, given their chosen careers.

Hayden thought her eyes rather like the sea: shining one moment, then shadowed by a cloud of sadness, quickly dispatched by a little breeze of laughter—only to return again.

Hayden believed that his own conversation was dull and without wit, but if this were true, and not merely his perception, no one seemed to mark it. Indeed, it appeared that Henrietta attended to his words with particular care.

The Hertle family seemed to be distinguished by a studied disregard for convention, which made them natural allies to the Carthews, Hayden thought. He also noted that Henrietta treated Lady Hertle with great respect, and was at pains to hide her greater understanding of several topics of conversation, choosing her words with care so that no great contradiction was offered.

Roman historians were discussed with varying degrees of knowledge, and finally republicanism, traced from its earliest roots in ancient Greece to present-day America and the folly that took place across the Channel.

“Do you know,” Hayden said, “that I have aboard the
Themis
an able seaman who has read, I believe, every book, pamphlet, or scrap of writing aboard ship to which he has been allowed access? He read all the doctor’s medical books with a high degree of understanding, as well as recent writings by Burke and this man Paine. Among the midshipmen, who have made their berth into a kind of reading-and-debating club, he is much esteemed and they never seem to mention his name without attaching
Mister
, and spoken with a high degree of respect, too.”

Lady Hertle appeared very charmed by this. “Why, I should like to meet this man,” she pronounced, to Hayden’s surprise. “Will he soon become a warrant officer, Mr Hayden? Admiral Hertle believed that the very best officers began their careers before the mast.”

“More than one officer has proposed to put his name forward for master’s mate or bosun’s mate, but at all times he has refused, saying, as he did to me, that he does not desire authority over others. You see, he believes in man’s equality and his fondest desire is to dwell one day in America.”

“He was not one of your mutineers, I hope?” Lady Hertle asked.

“Not at all. He used the high regard accorded him by the other Jacks to intercede during the mutiny and stop the flogging of officers, though not until Hart had suffered this fate. It was also Mr Aldrich, for that is his name, who again used his influence to stop the boy who had been charged with igniting the magazine aboard the
Themis
, a singular act of bravery, which I witnessed myself.”

“Was this not the same Aldrich whom Hart had flogged for possessing Mr Paine’s pamphlets?” Robert asked.

“It was, though no one else aboard the ship believed the punishment was justified, and it engendered much resentment among the crew, for Aldrich had the respect and love of almost all aboard but for a few jealous of his learning and the great regard bestowed upon him.”

“For every genius, no matter how small,” Lady Hertle offered, “there is another whose pettiness and jealousy cannot bear it. How many great men have been hounded by others, inferior in every way?”

A moment’s silence followed, or perhaps was observed, the cloud of sadness passing over Lady Hertle’s eyes again.

“Did you know, Mr Hayden, that Lady Hertle met Rousseau?” Elizabeth Hertle remarked.

“I did not know.”

Lady Hertle smiled and shook her head. “He was a genius but a scoundrel, Mr Hayden. A complete scoundrel. How anyone could take seriously a single word said or written by such a man is a source of mystery to me, for he had no principle but avidity, no cause but
Rousseau
. How he escaped the gallows I do not know, for certainly many a thief more ‘noble’ than he has been hanged. But perhaps I am suffering from pettiness and jealousy of his undeniable genius; even so, it seems to me that no matter how great a man’s gifts he cannot be exempted from all laws and customs. Do you not agree?”

“I do agree. I have been among the Indian people of Canada, and I can tell you that they are not the ‘noble savages’ Rousseau imagined, but a people living by complex, man-made laws and customs, a society as arbitrarily structured and hierarchal as any in Europe. So, at least, was my impression.”

After supper Hayden and Robert Hertle retired to the terrace, where Robert smoked, as Lady Hertle would not allow it in her home. The lights of scores of vessels scattered across the dark sound. It was a notably calm night.

“Your ship is in the charge of Mr Barthe, I take it?”

“No, Mr Barthe is ashore with his family. Mr Archer, the third lieutenant, returned to the ship this afternoon and has her in hand in my absence.”

“You have hardly mentioned him, Charles. Is he a good officer?”

“He is more than competent, but suffers from what I can only imagine is ambivalence regarding his career. Or perhaps it is merely a lack of passion or energy, I cannot say. I like him perfectly well. His society is pleasant, though he keeps much to himself, and appears to prefer the company of midshipmen to his fellows in the gunroom.” Hayden shrugged. “Want of ambition will likely limit his career, or so I would imagine, for he does not lack ability.”

“Perhaps serving under Captain Hart has afflicted his passion for the service?”

“It is entirely possible.”

“How like you Aunt Bill?”

“She is remarkable. I only hope to be so vital in my eightieth year.”

“Yes. I don’t know this for a truth, but I suspect that Mrs Hertle and our dear Henrietta will be the heirs of her estate. Not that she possesses great wealth, but even so, this house and a smaller one in London, not inconsiderable monies invested in diverse stocks and land…none of it entailed.”

“Why would you tell this to me, Robert?” Hayden asked, knowing the answer full well.

“Only by way of saying that Henrietta, in addition to her many obvious charms, will always have a comfortable living.”

“A man with my prospects cannot aspire to a match with a woman such as Miss Henrietta, had she not a farthing. Her family would never approve of it.”

“Have you met her family?”

“You know I have not.”

“Do not be too quick to assume what the Carthews might or might not approve. Mrs Hertle believes that they are guided by the wishes of their daughters in such matters. At least so it was with Henrietta’s older sisters, one of whom married a medical student who has not amounted to much, though no one among the Carthews seems to disapprove, for he is such a capital fellow in every other way.”

“Well, I am certainly capable of not amounting to much. Does this make me a candidate?”

Robert laughed. “I can’t say, but it does seem to me that Miss Henrietta treats you with a certain degree of favour—more so than I have observed with many a young buck who has taken notice of her. And I might say that there have been more than a few.”

“That I do not doubt.”

Mrs Hertle appeared in the door at that moment and called her husband in to attend Aunt Hertle on some matter. Hayden decided to spend a moment more in the fresh air, judging the strength and direction of the wind, observing the condition of the sky. The open sound was ever a problematic anchorage, and a sharp eye must be kept on the weather-glass and the various changes in atmosphere. He judged the evening relatively calm and likely to stay so.

The scrape of the door drew his attention, but rather than the return of his friend Robert, as he had been expecting, he found Henrietta emerge, arranging a shawl about her shoulders.

“You have been left unattended, Mr Hayden. How thoughtless of us.”

“Not at all, Miss Henrietta. Robert was only just now called away, and I have been observing the weather—an obsession of seamen.”

“And does it meet with your approval?”

“In every way, even if the night might be a little warmer, though it is not unseasonably cool, by any means.”

She came and stood by him, very near to the balustrade, and looked out over the fine view, and up at the river of bright stars. “Will you soon return to sea?” she asked.

“All is uncertain. There is a court-martial to be got through, and then…My prospects in His Majesty’s Navy are not half so favourable as Robert’s.”

She straightened her shawl with a sawing motion, then glanced at Hayden, her lovely eyes taking his breath away for an instant. “It is a subject that oppresses you a great deal, I have observed.”

“I fear I let it oppress me more than it should. I hope I have not been inflicting my moods upon you?”

She shook her head. “It is your chosen career; how could you not?”

“You are being very kind, but I confess, I should be a great deal happier if my future were more clear.”

“Would not we all?” she said with some feeling. “Then duty will keep you in Plymouth for a fortnight?”

“Longer, I should think. The court-martial will not be convened until Captain Hart is entirely recovered, and it is my understanding that the good captain is not healing as he should.”

“From what Robert has told us, Captain Hart was ever ready to flog men, innocent or not, and to one poor man did much worse. That he should feel in full measure what he has so readily inflicted upon others is uncommon justice, I think.”

Hayden was surprised to hear such emotion in her voice. “Yes, but he shall have his knighthood to console him, apparently.”