Read Online Any Approaching Enemy: A Novel of the Napoleonic Wars by Jay Worrall - Free Book Online Page A

after beginning his career before the mast. This was a rare enough accomplishment in George III’s navy and unheard-of in the army. Any man who could do it had Charles’s automatic respect.
    “How’d ye fare in the blow?” Bedford asked straightaway. Charles had already noticed while he was being pulled across that
Terpsichore
showed little if any damage from the storm.
    “Lost our mizzen topmast,” Charles answered. “Nothing serious. We had our moments, though.”
    “Aye, she was a fucking determined little tempest,” Bedford responded, turning toward Bevan as he climbed through the entryport. “Ah, Captain Bevan, welcome aboard. I do love a Welshman. Born to be hanged, I say. And how did tiny
Pylades
survive the gale?”
    “We’re still afloat,” Bevan answered. “Although only God knows why.”
    “Good seamanship is why,” Bedford said seriously. “There was little enough time to prepare. I watched as that first rush damn near rolled ye over.”
    “Thank you, sir,” Bevan answered.
    Bedford turned back to Charles and chuckled. “It were a rare treat to see
Emerald
signaling for you to increase sail and firing off her guns while you were doing the opposite.” He laughed heartily. “Pigott probably wet his breeches. And then the fucking wind comes up from behind and lays him right over on his beam ends. What a nasty surprise that must have been!” Bedford laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes.
    “I did attempt to warn him,” Charles said, vainly trying to suppress a chortle.
    Bedford wiped at his eyes. “Pigott is nay the kind of man who pays much attention to signals from those under him,” he said happily. “He starts with a lofty notion of his own importance and soars upward from there.” Leaning forward with a conspiratorial wink, he added, “The Right Honorable John Pigott is an old sow’s arse, the spot right between the hams and just south of the tail.”
    Charles couldn’t help laughing but was shocked by such blunt speech about a superior officer. As he secretly agreed, he said nothing. Bevan discreetly cleared his throat.
    “Ah, ye’re probably wondering why I called ye on board,” Bedford said, turning businesslike. “Two reasons: The first is to ascertain the state of yer ships.” He looked meaningfully at Bevan.
    “Our repairs are nearly complete,” Bevan answered. “We’re fit for whatever is required.”
    “Captain Edgemont?”
    “
Louisa
is ready for duty, sir.”
    “Good, good. And the second is to request both of yer presence at dinner,” Bedford said warmly. “I’ve already informed the cook, so ye daren’t refuse, and I have a large quantity of an excellent Madeira which I can’t possibly get through myself.”
    “Before we go below,” Charles asked, “have you any orders?”
    Bedford rubbed his chin. “We wait for Nelson and the others for a decent time, of course. Assuming he decides to show up at all.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “Unless I miss my guess, Nelson may have already attended the rendezvous and moved on,” Bedford said carefully. “If I know him, I’d say he may well have gone to Toulon without waiting, to see if the Frogs have used the time to sneak away. Still, we’ve orders to wait here. I’ll give him three days, and if no one appears, we’ll try there.”
    THE WEATHER CONTINUED fresh and springlike over the sea, empty but for Bevan’s brig,
Louisa,
and
Terpsichore
rocking easily on the gentle swell. All three ships took noon sightings, and all three discovered to no one’s surprise that they had drifted somewhat south of the specified waiting place. Bedford promptly ordered them all to beat into the breeze and make up the deficit.
    The following afternoon Charles and Winchester assembled two gun crews in the waist and walked them repeatedly through their evolutions at the guns. Charles could find no obvious problems. He did discover that eight men were about as effective as ten, twelve was too many, and six resulted in