Even Anna could tell something was going on outside their haven on theSwallow, with its row of little windows. ‘Duty calls?’
‘Aye, Mrs Beattie. I’ll shave now, and I won’t slit my throat because the sea is calm. You’ll come along to theQueen? I’m eager to see our children.’
I wonder if you know what you just said, she asked herself, charmed by the simple way he included her. She observed him as he shaved, relaxed and humming, eons away from the desperate father of last January.Thank you, Admiral Collingwood, she thought as she dressed.A house on Menorca? My goodness but you are kind.
Another hour, and there was theQueen.Her heart lifted to see Allan and Pru, both of them beaming, far removed from last winter’s terrified children.We’re having an adventure, she thought as she hugged them.
Bounce came next for a scratch and a pat from her, and the same from Captain Beattie. ‘Admiral Collingwood says we are feeding him too much,’ Allan announced, ‘but he leaves choice bits around for us to feed him anyway. And do you know? The Admiral reads to us at night like you.’
She smiled at that, and turned her attention to her husband and the admiral, deep in conversation, aware how this powerful man missed his own children.Sir, you are blessing my life and my husband’s, but I am sad for you.
She sat with the children, amused when Bounce rested his head in her lap and looked at her with soulful eyes. ‘You, sir, are a blatant hound in search of pats and rubs,’ she declared, and administered both, which meant high-pitched yips that attracted his master’s attention.
‘Mrs Beattie, you should consider yourself highly favoured,’ Collingwood’s deck-voice boomed out. ‘A year ago, I was declared Baron of Chelford. Bounce assumed at least half of my title and demands proper obeisance. You should see how he struts the deck!’
He turned his attention to Allan, who leaned against his father’s knee. ‘Midshipman Beattie—I’ve been calling your son that, Captain—we are requested and required to take Bounce to the gun deck for his walk.’
‘Aye aye, sir!’ the little boy responded. He put two fingers to his lips and whistled. ‘Is that right, sir?’
‘Perfectly fine,’ Collingwood agreed. ‘I couldn’t have done it better myself. Excuse us for a moment.’ The admiral held out his hand to Allan and nodded to Pru, who took his other hand. With Bounce leading the way, the unlikely group left the ostentation of Collingwood’s flagship quarters. The secretary seated nearby resumed his sorting of papers.
She came closer to her husband and lowered her voice. ‘Do you know anything about the house in Port Mahon?’
‘Only that you and the little ones will live there while theSwallowkeeps an eye on the French. I cannot fathom my good fortune.’ His comments were quiet, but she heard their sincerity. ‘Let’s walk the deck, too. I asked the bosun to pipe Mr Marsing aboard. I want him to hear the admiral’s orders.’
On deck, he strolled with her as though they walked in a park, past coiled rope and sailors mending sails, and others on hands and knees, scraping a more distant part of the deck with pumice stones. A group of boys barely older than Allan sat before a blackboard where the sailing master wrote equations. There beside theQueenbobbed theSwallow, looking so small.
It was a world she had never imagined until a mere week ago when she’d stared in awe at the Rock that was Gibraltar. ‘John, I never thought this would be my life.’
He smiled down at her. ‘This is what you get for answering my knock in January.’ The smile left his face. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t opened your door.’
Her heart and soul absorbed the bleakness. On tiptoe, she put her hands over his eyes for a brief moment, because they were on deck with others around. It was enough.
He blinked when she took her hands away. ‘Let’s see what Port Mahon has to offer,’ he said. ‘I doubt it will be boring.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Boring? Hardly, not with Admiral Collingwood himself signing on as crew on theSwallow, with Bounce as his companion. Collingwood’s flagship remained at anchor near Gibraltar. ‘You’ll never know I am here, Captain Beattie,’ he said, which made the admiral and captain both laugh. To Anna’s relief, none of it bordered on the hysterical.
Collingwood was a good companion for the sail to Menorca, the smaller of the four Balearic Islands and possessing the best harbour at Port Mahon, with its deep inlet, so he told them. To Anna’s delight, the admiral sat beside her on the quarterdeck in another canvas chair, commenting on seabirds, and admonishing Bounce not to think about trying to catch one.
That night under sail, Anna brought out a basket of her husband’s overused socks and darned them in the wardroom, with the admiral comfortable on that same canvas chair, moved below-deck. He watched her homely housewifery, peace in his eyes. It took only minor urging on John’s part to encourage a few sea yarns from Collingwood to his ever-attentive audience in Allan and Pru. He pronounced himself rejuvenated by this small snatch of leisure.
‘My dears, I have not looked at a chart or a letter of complaint in a whole twenty-four hours,’ he said before retiring for the night in the Captain’s quarters—the bestSwallowhad to offer—where the swinging platform had been hastily restored to its proper function.
‘Where are we sleeping?’ she whispered to John.
‘Quietly and properly in the Purser’s quarters,’ he whispered back. ‘He stayed behind on theQueento subdue his own paperwork. Allan and Pru will be on pallets here in the wardroom.’
She was dubious about the Purser’s sleeping platform, but they were at tight quarters. John helped her in, only smiling a little when she clutched him in fright, and settled herself for actual sleep.
‘See there? It’s a nice motion,’ he assured her as they swung to the rhythm of the wind and waves. ‘By God, all additional shenanigans aside, you are a pleasant little bundle to cuddle, Mrs Beattie.’
They were wakened early by Admiral Collingwood’s cheerful halloo and a light tapping on the door, which he opened. ‘Captain Beattie, let us take a turn about the deck,’ he ordered. ‘I must know more about your suggestion to work in tandem with the Yankee captain.’
‘Aye, sir. Let me extricate myself carefully without dumping out my wife. I’d like her to still enjoy Navy life. Give us a moment.’
Collingwood laughed. ‘Mrs Beattie, you should have been more wary when the Navy came to call,’ he said, and added, ‘I have the utmost respect for a lady who is so kind to provide aid and comfort to that sorry carcass beside you. Accept my great admiration, dear madam.’
