‘Toss the sack down to Lieutenant Marsing,’ John ordered. ‘Lead on, Lieutenant Kelso.’
No Collingwood below-deck. Lieutenant Kelso indicated a chair. ‘He hasn’t forgotten you, sir.’
‘No worries, Lieutenant. I’ll read my own correspondence while I wait.’
When the man left, John opened the oilskin pouch immediately, pawing through official business, looking for letters from Plymouth with the same eagerness as when Cathy was alive. A letter from Allan caught his eye first, and he wasted not a moment opening it. He leaned back, snapped the seal, and read,Dear Papa, I am doing fin. Missy sayes finer than fife pens.
He smiled, relieved that his instinct about Anna was true. Perhaps some help with spelling would be good. The smile left his face as he continued.I reely like chopping carots, onyins and potatos. Mrs Filyun lets me help Pru mak beds. ‘What is this?’ he said softly.Missy says not to wory.
Johnwasworried. He folded Allan’s letter and rummaged in the pouch, suddenly desperate for more. He found two letters, one neatly addressed to Captain John Beattie. The other had GF written in the left upper corner and the admonition, READ THIS FIRST! in large block letters.
He held his breath and opened the letter that must have come from Grace Fillion of the Drake. Damned if his hands weren’t shaking.Never fear, sir, we are all well, allowed him to keep breathing. What followed horrified him. ‘What have I done?’ he asked himself.
He read the letter, which was as plainspoken as Mrs Fillion herself. An agent sent by that damnable curate had evicted Anna, she who was bearing enough burdens thrust on her by a desperate captain she hardly knew.
‘What must you think of me, Anna Fontaine?’ he asked the air.
Sickened, he turned the page, where, to his relief, Mrs Fillion told him again not to worry.Sir, Anna is a solid sort, he read.She came right to me, and they are all safe here.Pierre, my chef, is grateful for kitchen help. Anna (such a shy, quiet lady)—‘Indeed she is,’ John said to the letter—has proved so helpful at the front desk.
There was more, but he heard a door open and stood up to bow to the Admiral of the Fleet, Admiral Lord Cuthbert Collingwood, and his dog Bounce, who trotted up with some dignity and sniffed his crotch.
‘Captain Beattie, how goes my favourite Scot?’ John heard through the fog of his distress. Suddenly, John felt tears course down his cheeks. He held out Mrs Fillion’s letter.
Without a word, the Admiral took it. ‘Tell me more,’ he ordered when he finished reading, and John did.
‘This is serious,’ the Admiral said.
‘I’ve ruined a kind lady’s life,’ John said, barely able to get out the words. He looked at the unread letter in his hand. ‘I fear to open this one.’
‘Tell me, Captain, what kind of man was Miss Fontaine’s brother? I know you lost him after Trafalgar.’
‘Lieutenant Will Fontaine was utterly dependable and destined to captain his own ship soon. I trusted him with everything.’
‘What you tell me, and what I have read, suggest that Miss Fontaine is cut from the same cloth.’
Don’t try to make me feel better, John thought, angry for a moment, until he realised he was angry at himself and not his commander.
‘She is.’ He held up her letter. ‘I haven’t readherletter yet, though.’
‘Ah, yes. It appears that Mrs Fillion, God bless her, wanted hers read first.’ Collingwood gave John’s knee a pat. ‘Read it. I must speak to my secretary.’
John broke the seal and spread out Anna’s letter.Captain Beattie, things have not precisely worked in my favour, he read, shaking his head over perhaps the greatest understatement since Eve bit into the apple.
Her story was much the same as Mrs Fillion’s, and he heard no blame. It wrung his heart when she thanked him—God in heaven!—for introducing her to Grace. She concluded with,
We are in good hands here at the Drake, and all of us are useful. Allan suffered a little at the eviction, but he’s my—she’dcrossed outmyand wroteyour—smiling lad again.Do your duty. I promised you I would never fail you, and I will not. Yours sincerely, Anna.
From my to your. He stared at that and felt himself relax.Anna.
‘At least you are not in a towering rage,’ he whispered to the words.
The door opened. Admiral Collingwood resumed his seat. ‘Well, sir?’
‘She reminded me that she promised to never fail me, Admiral,’ he said, still choked. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ He held out the letter, so personal. ‘Here, sir. I would value your opinion.’
The Admiral read Anna’s letter, nodding a few times with what looked like approval. He tapped it a few times. ‘Give me a moment.’ He closed his eyes.
When he opened them, it was to give John the Admiral’s Stare, but a benign one.
