She read silently, then gasped and read it out loud, the better to believe it. ‘And tell your lovely wife that she and the children have my permission to take up residence in my little place. I’ll take you there myself when you return from Gibraltar. Move your return along smartly, too. I need you and the Swallow patrolling.’
She put down the letter and nestled closer. ‘Did you have any inkling of this?’
‘Collingwood had mentioned Menorca was a possibility. I was hoping to find quarters in Gibraltar for you and maybe see you and the little ones occasionally.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘I know the Admiral wishes his wife and daughters could come to him. The Admiralty has decreed him too valuable to be anywhere but watching the French.’ He tapped the letter. ‘Now he is helping us.’ He lay back and stared at the ceiling. ‘The very idea of sailing into Port Mahon and finding you there… I never imagined staying in his house!’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Oh, the curse of the practical mind. Anna knew it was time to re-enter the real world. ‘Up we get,’ she announced. ‘I am counting on you to button up my dress and not kiss my freckles. I promise not to stare at your trousers and wonder how everything fits in there.’
He laughed at that. ‘It’s a deal, Mrs Beattie. I’m the Captain and you are my crew.’
‘Just as I want it,’ she said simply.
He was ready quickly. ‘I’ll be in the wardroom,’ he told her, after he combed his hair at the mirror in his narrow closet. He stood there a moment, staring at something. She didn’t think he was being vain.
She brushed her hair after he’d left. Knowing it needed more attention, she opened his closet to see the mirror. Next to the mirror was a drawing of a pretty lady who resembled Allan Beattie.So, there you are, she thought, then frowned. She almost felt jealous then. But what she and John had was purely based on convenience, nothing else. Wasn’t it?
She made a parting and braided her hair low against her neck, all the while eyeing Cathy Beattie.
‘Whether it’s convenient or not, I’ll take good care of him for you,’ she said softly, and closed the door.
John took her hand in the wardroom, where his steward waited, as well as the man in a plain uniform she knew as his sailing master, plus a Marine in red and gilt. Another man in a plain uniform with the caduceus on each side of his collar was the surgeon. They bowed and she curtsied, hoping no one had any idea what had been going on in the Captain’s quarters for most of the night.
Anna accepted a cup of coffee from the steward.Give yourself a few days and you will no longer be a novelty, she thought. She created a homely egg sandwich from the egg and toast on her plate, which made the Marine smile. ‘My little son does that, Mrs Beattie,’ he said.
‘Then I am in good company, sir,’ Anna told him.
‘Men, I have our Admiral’s orders,’ John said. Omitting the part about the house soon to be loaned, he read them word for word. ‘We are on patrol. The Mediterranean is ours to sail freely, to harry the French however we can and, most important, learn what they are up to. We will have a home port.’ He looked at them. ‘Gentlemen, we are to be based in Port Mahon, that jewel of the Balearics. Mr Lynch,’ he ordered his second lieutenant, ‘please inform Mr Marsing on the quarterdeck. Let us proceed to Rosia Bay.’
Mr Lynch nodded. ‘Aye, sir. Will we tarry long?’
‘Long enough to take on supplies that should be waiting for us.’ He turned his attention to the surgeon. ‘Mr Coles, you have the Admiral’s permission for everything you can beg, borrow or steal from hospital stores.’
Anna listened as orders went around, hearing not a sound of uncertainty, and knew she sailed on a well-captained ship. The other side of this man she now called husband was hers, alone. It both humbled and excited her.
He kissed her hand with a loud smack, to everyone’s smiles. ‘Come along, Mrs Beattie,’ he teased. ‘I expect there will be a resounding hip-hip hoorah from the deck when you show your pretty face. Right, men?’
To a man, they all stood and raised their coffee cups. She dipped another curtsy, playful this time, and let her husband steady her against the motion of a ship on the tack, bound for shore.
It was as John had predicted. As soon as a grinning Marine guard opened the companionway hatch and Anna stepped through, her husband gave a high sign of some sort and the bosun piped her on deck.
‘John, do not even try to tell me there is a special call for a captain’s bride,’ she said, trying to be heard above the applause and whistles.
‘No, Mrs Beattie. This one is more along the lines of “Hail the Monarch” and they don’t mean me. Up you go to the quarterdeck. Take a seat in the marvellous deck chair, and watch my good crew bring us in.’ He knelt beside the chair after she sat. ‘This will be short, but you’re coming ashore with me now. We have something to see.’
An hour later, they made it to the Rock and sailed smoothly into Rosia Bay, with its hotch-potch of buildings cobbled together and general ragtag air. ‘This is where we docked after Trafalgar,’ he said, standing next to the railing with her. ‘We limped in.’ She covered his hand with hers.
TheSwallowdocked at the wharf, with waiting supplies ready. ‘You and I have another place to visit.’
It was a short walk, made longer because as soon as they were out of sight of the port, John stopped and kissed her, holding her close. He held her off a little, searching her face. ‘I just realised something, Mrs Beattie.’
‘What might that be?’ she teased. ‘You are a student of my face? I think it’s rather ordinary.’
‘Not at all. You’re a lovely woman.’
She blushed at the sincerity in his voice.
‘I believe, after our wedding night, that I am finally…starting to exhale.’ The humour left again, and she saw a man exposing his vulnerabilities. ‘Believe me, it is relief unimaginable. Oh, this is hardly loverlike, but…’
