“Those blighters had us over a barrel there for a while until you sorted them out.”
“It turned out those merchants just needed a firm hand on the tiller to correct their course.” And issue a stark reminder that if they wanted to renegotiate the terms of the contracts before the contracts were up, then the navy might as well put all those contracts back out to tender.
“Calling their bluff like that was a flash of genius.”
It had been a flash of sheer, unadulterated frustration, but Harry smiled at that compliment too and did brush it away in case he came across as too cocky while he waited for the admiral to tip his hand. “It was hardly genius when the opportunity to defeat the enemy is always provided by the enemy himself. If those greedy merchants had read Sun Tzu, they would have realized that they had overplayed their hand long before they forced mine.”
“You fought fire with fire, Kincaid, and I admire that. Sometimes a line has to be drawn in the sand.” As that sentiment wholly supported all the conclusions Harry had recently come to himself, he nodded. “And it seems that you are the man required to draw it.” He decided to absolutely take that resonating compliment too.
“I’m of the firm opinion that if you give some people too much rope, they’ll hang you with it.” Harry crossed one leg over the other and did his best to look like a man who was completely in control of all aspects of his life. Albeit one who had stupidly forgotten that his damned breeches were too tight for comfortable leg crossing before he had crossed them but was now stuck with the consequences. The sort of man that Nugent might believe was worthy of a well-earned promotion he’d dangled like a carrot for two long years without him having to ask for it. More importantly, the sort who would stand up for himself and refuse if the Admiralty was about to shaft him with more work when he already had too much to cope with. “I prefer to keep the line taut.”
Nugent steepled his fingers and nodded. “That is precisely why I’m sending you to Plymouth.” A part of Harry died inside at the mention of that wretched place before another part died when he gave him the reason. “I want you to work your unique magic on theBoadicea. It needs to be seaworthy by early July if it’s to lead the fleet out on the first of August.”
“With the greatest respect, Admiral, getting that ship seaworthy by July would take more than magic—it is so far behind schedule that it would take a miracle. I am not the man for that job.” If the Admiralty had already sucked most of the joy out of his soul, blasted Plymouth and the bloodyBoadiceawould shrivel it to a crisp. He had come to hate that wretched ship almost as much as he had always loathed the place it was being built in. In fact, he hated it so much, that when he became admiral of the fleet, he was going to have the bloody thing scrapped just because he could!
“I’ve done all that I can with that ship. The work-shy layabouts at the Plymouth Dockyard need a bigger gun than a mere captain to light a fire beneath their arses. They need a man with more brocade on his coat.” He gestured to the gold rope aiguillette draped over Nugent’s right shoulder. “Besides, I was only drafted to help with theBoadiceawhen I could—and I have tried my best—but the truth is, it is hard to be effective when I am already spread too thin to give such a mammoth task all the time it deserves. What with all the procurement contracts I oversee… and… all the additional projects and responsibilities I’ve been saddled with of late.” In his panic, excuses—ungrateful sounding excuses to the man who had given him the opportunity to impress at the Admiralty—spilled from his mouth. The speed at which they did so made the next in line to be the admiral of the fleet frown.
“Have you been to Plymouth to give them what for?”
“Well… um… no, sir. There hasn’t been the time… and I already have too much on my plate keeping all the shipyards and boats stocked with what they need and—”
“Not anymore you don’t. You are relieved of all that nonsense. From this day forth, your only responsibility is getting that ship out on maneuvers by August.” He passed Harry’s folded and sealedorders across the table. “You are expected at Plymouth on the first of June. There will be an office and a substantial staff awaiting you at dock when you arrive, and I shall make sure that everyone there knows that I have delegated all responsibility to you. You will speak for me and anyone who doesn’t do exactly what you tell them to will have me to contend with.”
The doors to a different sort of hellish prison seemed to slam shut around him. “But sir, I also currently have the additional responsibilities my sis—” Again he was cut off.
“You are wasted on procurements, Kincaid. A sailor of your caliber shouldn’t be concerning himself with the price of flour or whether there is enough lantern oil in a warehouse. He should be the one in command and not the navy’s lackey. You only have that one blemish on your record, after all.” The one blemish nobody would allow him to bloody well forget about—Elizabeth. “And you are not daft enough to make that sort of mistake twice.”
Which was the only good thing to come out of his failed engagement.
He had been in the first flush of love, or more likely lust, when the news had come that he had finally earned a ship of his own. He was to take command of it upon his return from his short, final voyage as a lieutenant and he had been thrilled by the promotion. Just not as thrilled as he was to have found the supposed woman of his dreams.
Sailing away from Elizabeth after their spur-of-the-moment betrothal had been the hardest thing he had ever done. He had only done it after his grandfather had intervened and had ordered Harry’s commanding officer to refuse his request to take some urgent leave for a hasty wedding and honeymoon before he took on his first helm as a captain. The admiral had been so furious with Harry forbehaving like a love-consumed lunatic, he had threatened to have his own grandson court-martialed if he disobeyed and locked in the brig for two months for desertion and insubordination. A sentence which would have scuppered all his wedding plans for far longer, so he had no choice but to comply.
Yet with hindsight, it had all been for the best. If he hadn’t reluctantly sailed away that day, her fickle gaze wouldn’t have wandered to pastures new, and their union would have crashed on the rocks later when he would have been bound to the treacherous wench for all eternity. Stuck with the biggest mistake of his life and regretting it daily. Exactly as his grandfather had predicted.
Worse, he hadn’t just lost Elizabeth during his short absence either, he had lost the promised ship, too, after word of his planned stupidity made its way to the wrong ear and it was decreed that he wasn’t ready for the responsibility of a helm yet after all.
“You were young and stupid but took your medicine like a man.” Nugent gave him one of those pitying looks that he had come to loathe. “Then excelled when we finally did promote you to captain, so we don’t need to dredge all that nonsense up again.” Although he just had, and Harry’s toes were curling inside his boots because the navy worked hard to remind him of his stupidity at every juncture. “Your grandfather, God rest him, raised you for better and bigger things and your time at the Admiralty was only ever intended to grease those wheels, so to speak. But now they are greased and it’s time you reaped the rewards of your efforts outside of it.”
While Harry couldn’t really argue with that, he still did. “I believe I could do better and bigger things at the Admiralty…”
“You’ve outgrown the Admiralty as I knew you would. We all did.” Nugent smiled. “I’ve had them throw a lot at you, I know, but when I promised your grandfather before he died that I would continue your training and keep pushing you higher, I also told him that I needed to test your mettle. I needed to be sure you actually were all of what he hoped you would become. But seeing as you’ve passed every test with flying colors…” He chuckled at his own pun and another part of Harry withered inside. “And even though there are a great many in this service who will still say that I am mad to entrust you with so much responsibility when you are barely out of leading strings, I’ve been watching you closely for the last two years and my decision is made. TheBoadiceais yours. To get seaworthy and…” He paused for dramatic effect. “To command once it is.”
Admiral Nugent held out his hand, beaming. “Congratulations, Captain—I do not know of another sailor who deserves a one-hundred-and-twenty-gun first-rate ship of the line more than you do.” He pumped Harry’s hand vigorously. “You are every bit the fine sailor your grandfather was and more. I suspect this ship is but the first of many great things in your future.”
As “thank you, sir” seemed the only appropriate response, Harry tried to say it with some enthusiasm while Nugent reached for two fresh glasses on the sideboard and poured them both a brandy.
“Now, obviously you know that there are never any hard and fast promises in the Royal Navy, but in another year or so, once you’ve proved yourself capable of handling my flagship…” He pressed the drink into Harry’s suddenly limp and sweaty hand. “I’ll probably delegate command of a small flotilla along with it when I’m not aboard. Make youCommodoreKincaid. How does that sound? See if we can’t push you up to vice admiral within five years.” Nugent did not wait for his answer, as he clearly thought he already knew it.
Harry had stupidly once thought the same, yet suddenly didn’t. Instead, all he could think of was a tightening rope and could not tellwhether that was because his was about to run out or it was forming a noose for his neck. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
But as Harry raised his toast, instead of feeling proud of this unheard-of rapid promotion and excited for the fresh challenges the navy was offering, all he felt was numb.
ChapterFIFTEEN
Georgie had been in an odd mood all evening. Unsettled and distracted. While she knew that a great deal of that was as a result of the unexpected but enlightening sight of the captain in his bath, she also felt bad for what had happened. She hadn’t seen him since the frog had sought refuge in his bathwater and Felix and Marianne rolled around the floor, hysterical, as if the whole debacle was the funniest thing they had ever seen.
