Read Online Bolitho 19 - Beyond the Reef by Alexander Kent - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alexander Kent
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comes your faithful cox’n.”
Allday moved effortlessly through the chattering groups and touched his hat.
“Begging your pardon, Sir Richard, but I thought you might want to take your meal in the Master’s chartroom.” He gave a grim smile. “Mr Julyan was most firm on the matter!”
Bolitho answered readily, “That would suit very well. I have no stomach for this today.” He glanced around at the jostling, apparently carefree people who were waiting to be called to their refreshment, seeing instead this deck as it had been on that dismal September morning. The dead and the wounded, the first lieutenant cut cleanly in half by a massive French ball. “I do not feel I belong here.”
Tyacke held out his hand. “I have to leave, Sir Richard. Please offer my best wishes to Lady Somervell.” He glanced at Keen, who was waiting to see him over the side to his gig. “And to you too, sir.”
Keen had known what it must have cost Tyacke to go all the way to Zennor to see him marry Zenoria, to experience again the shocked stares and brutal curiosity to which he would never become accustomed.
“I thank you, Commander Tyacke. I shall not forget.”
Tyacke raised his hat and the marines’ muskets thumped in salute, a cloud of pipeclay floating from their crossbelts like smoke. The calls shrilled and Bolitho gazed after him until the gig was pulling strongly away from the ship’s great shadow.
“Join me in the Master’s quarters, will you, Val?”
Someone was ringing a bell, and the small tide of visitors began to flow towards the temptation of food, brought on board, it was said, from the George Inn itself.
Ozzard had prepared a meal which seemed to consist mostly of several kinds of cheese, fresh bread from Portsmouth, and some claret. He had learned very well what Bolitho could and could not take when he was under great strain.
Keen asked, “What do you think, Sir Richard?”
Bolitho was still thinking of what he had observed before entering the chartroom. Near the big double-wheel the Judge Advocate had been in close conversation with Sir Paul Sillitoe. They had not seen him, but had separated before continuing up to Keen’s quarters.
“If only he had called someone to defend him. This is all too personal, too cleancut for outsiders to understand.” He toyed with the cheese, his appetite gone. “I think it will be over quite soon. This afternoon Captain Gossage will give evidence. He can say little of the battle because he was wounded almost as soon as Benbow engaged. But it will depend much on his earlier assessment, his guidance as flag captain when the truth of the situation was apparent.”
“And tomorrow?”
“It will be our turn, and Thomas’s.”
Keen stood up. “I had better be seen to welcome the senior officers to my quarters, I suppose.” He did not sound as if he liked the prospect.
“A moment, Val.” Bolitho closed the chartroom door. “I have a suggestion—or rather, Catherine put forward the idea.”
“Sir? I would always be guided by that lady.”
“While we are away on passage to the Cape, we think Zenoria should be offered the use of our house in Cornwall. You have rented one here, I believe, while Black Prince is fitting out, but in Cornwall she would be with people who would care for her. There is another reason.” He could sense Keen’s instant guard; it was so unlike him. Matters were worse than they had feared. “Zenoria once told Catherine she would take it as a great favour if she could make use of the library there. It is extensive … it was built up by my grandfather.”
Keen smiled, his eyes clearing. “Yes, I know she wishes to educate herself more, to learn about the world.” He nodded slowly. “It was kind of Lady Catherine to concern herself with this, sir. Zenoria’s first time alone as a married woman.”
He did not continue. He did not need to.
“That’s settled then.”
Later when the court convened, Bolitho ran his eyes over the
Allday moved effortlessly through the chattering groups and touched his hat.
“Begging your pardon, Sir Richard, but I thought you might want to take your meal in the Master’s chartroom.” He gave a grim smile. “Mr Julyan was most firm on the matter!”
Bolitho answered readily, “That would suit very well. I have no stomach for this today.” He glanced around at the jostling, apparently carefree people who were waiting to be called to their refreshment, seeing instead this deck as it had been on that dismal September morning. The dead and the wounded, the first lieutenant cut cleanly in half by a massive French ball. “I do not feel I belong here.”
Tyacke held out his hand. “I have to leave, Sir Richard. Please offer my best wishes to Lady Somervell.” He glanced at Keen, who was waiting to see him over the side to his gig. “And to you too, sir.”
Keen had known what it must have cost Tyacke to go all the way to Zennor to see him marry Zenoria, to experience again the shocked stares and brutal curiosity to which he would never become accustomed.
“I thank you, Commander Tyacke. I shall not forget.”
Tyacke raised his hat and the marines’ muskets thumped in salute, a cloud of pipeclay floating from their crossbelts like smoke. The calls shrilled and Bolitho gazed after him until the gig was pulling strongly away from the ship’s great shadow.
“Join me in the Master’s quarters, will you, Val?”
Someone was ringing a bell, and the small tide of visitors began to flow towards the temptation of food, brought on board, it was said, from the George Inn itself.
Ozzard had prepared a meal which seemed to consist mostly of several kinds of cheese, fresh bread from Portsmouth, and some claret. He had learned very well what Bolitho could and could not take when he was under great strain.
Keen asked, “What do you think, Sir Richard?”
Bolitho was still thinking of what he had observed before entering the chartroom. Near the big double-wheel the Judge Advocate had been in close conversation with Sir Paul Sillitoe. They had not seen him, but had separated before continuing up to Keen’s quarters.
“If only he had called someone to defend him. This is all too personal, too cleancut for outsiders to understand.” He toyed with the cheese, his appetite gone. “I think it will be over quite soon. This afternoon Captain Gossage will give evidence. He can say little of the battle because he was wounded almost as soon as Benbow engaged. But it will depend much on his earlier assessment, his guidance as flag captain when the truth of the situation was apparent.”
“And tomorrow?”
“It will be our turn, and Thomas’s.”
Keen stood up. “I had better be seen to welcome the senior officers to my quarters, I suppose.” He did not sound as if he liked the prospect.
“A moment, Val.” Bolitho closed the chartroom door. “I have a suggestion—or rather, Catherine put forward the idea.”
“Sir? I would always be guided by that lady.”
“While we are away on passage to the Cape, we think Zenoria should be offered the use of our house in Cornwall. You have rented one here, I believe, while Black Prince is fitting out, but in Cornwall she would be with people who would care for her. There is another reason.” He could sense Keen’s instant guard; it was so unlike him. Matters were worse than they had feared. “Zenoria once told Catherine she would take it as a great favour if she could make use of the library there. It is extensive … it was built up by my grandfather.”
Keen smiled, his eyes clearing. “Yes, I know she wishes to educate herself more, to learn about the world.” He nodded slowly. “It was kind of Lady Catherine to concern herself with this, sir. Zenoria’s first time alone as a married woman.”
He did not continue. He did not need to.
“That’s settled then.”
Later when the court convened, Bolitho ran his eyes over the
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