further; nothing, he was sure, could be more irritating, like one of those men who could not stop talking of the beauty of their mistress, or the cleverness of their children. In any case, Temeraire did not require praising; any observer looking at him could hardly fail to mark his distinctive and elegant appearance.
“Oh, I see,” Bedford said, looking at him with a bemused expression. Then the lieutenant at Bedford’s shoulder coughed meaningfully. Bedford glanced at the fellow and then said, “Forgive me; I was so taken aback to see you that I have been keeping you standing about. Pray come this way, Lord Gardner is waiting to see you.”
Admiral Lord Gardner had only lately come to his position as commander in the Channel, on Sir William Cornwallis’s retirement; the strain of following so successful a leader in so difficult a position was telling upon him. Laurence had served in the Channel Fleet several years before, as a lieutenant; they had never been introduced previously, but Laurence had seen him several times, and his face was markedly aged.
“Yes, I see, Laurence, is it?” Gardner said, as the flag-lieutenant presented him, and murmured a few words which Laurence could not hear. “Pray be seated; I must read these dispatches at once, and then I have a few words to give you to carry back for me to Lenton,” he said, breaking the seal and studying the contents. Lord Gardner grunted and nodded to himself as he read through the messages; from his sharp look, Laurence knew when he reached the account of the recent skirmish.
“Well, Laurence, you have already seen some sharp action, I gather,” he said, laying aside the papers at last. “It is just as well for you all to get some seasoning, I expect; it cannot be long before we see something more from them, and you must tell Lenton so for me. I have been sending every sloop and brig and cutter I dare to risk close in to the shore, and the French are busy as bees inland outside Cherbourg. We cannot tell with what, precisely, but they can hardly be preparing for anything but invasion, and judging by their activity, they mean it to be soon.”
“Surely Bonaparte cannot have more news of the fleet in Cadiz than do we?” Laurence said, disturbed by this intelligence. The degree of confidence augured by such preparations was frighteningly high, and though Bonaparte was certainly arrogant, his arrogance had rarely proven to be wholly unfounded.
“Not of immediate events, no, of that I am now thankfully certain. You have brought me confirmation that our dispatch-riders have been coming back and forth steadily,” Gardner said, tapping the sheaf of papers on his desk. “However, he cannot be so wild as to imagine he can come across without his fleet, and that suggests he expects them soon.”
Laurence nodded; that expectation might still be ill-founded or wishful, but that Bonaparte had it at all meant Nelson’s fleet was in imminent danger.
Gardner sealed the packet of returning dispatches and handed them over. “There; I am much obliged to you, Laurence, and for your bringing the post to us. Now I trust you will join us for dinner, and of course your fellow captains as well?” he said, rising from his desk. “Captain Briggs of the Agincourt will join us as well, I think.”
A lifetime of naval training had inculcated in Laurence the precept that such an invitation from a superior officer was as good as a command, and though Gardner was no longer strictly his superior, it remained impossible to even think of refusing. But Laurence could not help but consider Temeraire with some anxiety, and Nitidus with even more. The Pascal’s Blue was a nervous creature who required a great deal of careful management from Captain Warren under ordinary circumstances, and Laurence was certain that he would be distressed at the prospect of remaining aboard the makeshift floating platform without his handler and no officer above the rank of lieutenant anywhere to be seen.
And yet dragons did wait under such conditions all the time; if there had been a greater aerial threat against the fleet, several might even have been stationed upon platforms at all times, with their captains frequently called upon to join the naval officers in planning. Laurence could not like subjecting the dragons to such a wait for no better cause than a dinner engagement, but neither could he honestly say there was any actual risk to them.