Read Online Ramage At Trafalgar by Dudley Pope - Free Book Online Page B

smile.
    She stopped weeping and tried to laugh. “Look what happened to you when you went there !”
    “Just a pleasant cruise, or so I thought. Little did I know that a scheming woman was waiting for me in an East India Company ship…”
    “But now you’ve married her, you’re deserting her!”
    Sarah was getting control of herself but he was deserting her, in a way, and the dreadful thing was that he was excited at the prospect of getting to sea again in the Calypso . That pleasure was all mixed up with his feeling of guilt at leaving her, and now he knew what many married officers went through. Now Lord St Vincent’s stern comment that “an officer who marries is lost to the Service” seemed more reasonable, though harsh.
    There was no reason why serving in the Navy should condemn a man to a monkish existence, yet how else could the Navy be run? More generous leave, perhaps – but every ship that could swim was needed at sea, which meant she spent as little time in port as possible, just long enough for provisioning and any necessary repairs. The regulations, strictly kept, said that a captain must always sleep in his ship in port unless he had Admiralty permission to remain on shore…
    “You’ll go riding with your father?” he asked, realizing as soon as he spoke what a damned silly question it was, but it served its purpose: Sarah stood back, wiped her eyes, gave a faint hiccup and said: “Thank goodness we have some decent horses. And Raven will be pleased to see us use the harness he polishes with so much love.”
    “I’ll soon be back,” Ramage said, and could have bitten off his tongue the moment later: it was a particularly stupid remark to make to Sarah, of all people.
    “If only I could be sure you’d remember what your father said about frigates not being line-of-battle ships, and if I didn’t know that Lord Nelson’s fleet is about half the size of the French and Spanish, I’d smile and say ‘Of course you will, darling’ like any other dutiful wife, but one of the disadvantages of marrying a Ramage and being the Marquis of Rockley’s daughter is that I know far too much to take comfort from such platitudes. It’s going to be a desperate business, darling; it always is where you or Lord Nelson are concerned.”
    He held her tightly and kissed her. Words simply brought more trouble.
     
    Ramage was again sitting in the drawing room reading the Morning Post and noting the obvious relief that the newspaper expressed that Nelson was back in England and, presumably, consulting with the ministers on the question of defeating the Combined Fleets of France and Spain and Bonaparte’s plans for invading England. As if defeating the enemy was only a matter of consulting with ministers.
    If anything, he thought, battles were won in spite of ministers – Mr Pitt seemed to listen to some strange companions, particularly that drunken scoundrel Henry Dundas, the recently created Viscount Melville, reckoned to be as corrupt as he was impetuous. Certainly Dundas’ advice when Secretary of State at the War Department had led to thousands of soldiers and sailors dying of vile diseases while garrisoning or guarding the wretchedly useless spice islands of the West Indies. Dundas must be getting some hefty bribes from the West India Committee – unless he himself owned some big plantations out there.
    Still, Ramage was content. Upstairs were his orders for the Calypso : in another couple of days he would leave for Chatham… He gave a start as Hanson tapped on the door and interrupted his musings: at that moment he realized he hadheard a carriage draw up outside. Who was expected? Probably one of mother’s friends, calling to discuss something of no consequence and therefore, to her, of enormous importance.
    “My lord, there’s a Captain Backlog wanting to see you urgently…”
    Backlog? Sailor or soldier? Ramage folded his newspaper. “Show him in.”
    Ramage stood up and reached the door just in