The Little Ships (Alexis Carew Book 3)

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Authors: J.A. Sutherland
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before!”
    Alexis blinked. The story had come out in such a rush that she wasn’t sure she had the full of it.
    “Tell me if I understand,” she said. “Your father, your real father, owned a shop and told you it would be yours one day?”
    Artley nodded. “I’d work with him every day after school. It’s a fine shop.”
    “But he died? And your mother’s met a new man?”
    Artley nodded again. “I don’t like him.”
    “I should think not,” Alexis said. “And they, neither of them, spoke to you of the Navy ever?”
    “Never, sir. He talked of sending me away for schooling, but never the Navy.”
    “I see,” Alexis said, quite afraid that she did. “Do you know at all what arrangements your father made? Your real father, I mean. For the shop and for you and your mother upon his death?”
    Artley shook his head and Alexis frowned. Artley might not know, but she certainly had her suspicions. A fine shop left to another man’s son and a new husband who might wonder what would be left for him when the son came into his majority. What better way to have it for himself than to send the boy away to the Navy? Especially with a war on and the very real possibility of Artley being killed.
    “What a vile business.”
    “Sir?”
    Alexis studied his face, but it seemed Artley was oblivious to his stepfather’s possible motives. He seemed innocently bewildered by what had happened to him. If being put aboard ship had come as such a surprise, might that have something to do with how he performed his duties? Alexis hesitated, looking at the lad. He was obviously still shaken by his close call and she wondered if it was the best time to be having this conversation. Still, perhaps it was the perfect time to drive home the seriousness of life aboard ship, regardless of whether it was the life Artley would choose for himself.
    “Is it safe to say that you’ve never wanted to be in the Navy?” she asked.
    Artley shook his head. “Never thought of it, sir.”
    “And safe to say that the Navy’s still not where you wish to be?”
    Artley hesitated, perhaps afraid to answer, and Alexis raised an eyebrow.
    “I just want to go home.”
    “Mister Artley, I will allow you just this one meeting for a whinge like that.” Alexis fought to keep her face stern as his expression fell. Perhaps he’d wanted some sympathy and she longed to give it to him, but the truth was he was in the Navy, aboard ship, and very far from home. If he didn’t give it his best efforts, then the prediction she’d made in the wardroom would come true and someone, likely Artley himself, would be dead of it. “You are aboard this ship. Perhaps you’ll one day return home, but while aboard I’ll have your best efforts in your duties. Your very best efforts, Mister Artley, which I suspect no one aboard Shrewsbury has yet seen.”
    “I —”
    “Think on this,” she said, interrupting him. “Had this morning’s incident happened during an action, you would surely be dead.”
    Artley looked at her eyes wide. “But —”
    “That entire guncrew came to your aid — in an action, you’d have been shoved to the side for Mister Castell’s loblolly boys to take below in their own time. I would not have come to your aid myself, and stopped you taking your helmet off in a full bloody vacuum. Moreover, there are eight hundred men aboard Shrewsbury who depend upon those best efforts of yours for their own lives.”
    Artley winced and looked away.
    “If your father — your real father — truly intended to leave his shop to you then you must have previously exhibited some degree of competence as yet unseen aboard this ship. I need to see that competence, Mister Artley. I need you to apply yourself to Shrewsbury’s work as diligently as I’m certain you did in your Da’s shop. Study your signals and use your bloody head at the guns, do you hear me?”
    “Aye sir.”
    “Though about this little hidey-hole here, Mister Artley.”
    “Aye sir.

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