ruin and demanding that he do something for workhouse boys.”
“Who told you that?” Bertram spoke quickly, but she heard no accusation.
Captain Ogilvie.”
After the prickly valet dried his tears, blew his nose and became again the Man To Be Feared, Meridee walked slowly down the corridor. She knew which classrooms belonged to which instructor. The pupils were all abed at this late hour, so she took her time, breathing in the familiar odor of chalk dust.
She opened the door to Able’s room and felt a momentary pang. She walked to the plaque on the wall, the one with Rattus norvegicus stretched out in all his skeletal splendor. She remembered the hours she and her new little boarders had boiled those nasty bones, and then rescued them in the rain with Davey Ten and Nick Bonfort, but only Nick then because he didn’t have a last name. Now Davey was acting surgeon on the Mercury and Nick assistant secretary on HMS Victory. Be safe, my lovelies, she thought.
In permanent metal letters, she read Gunwharf Rats. There were more little metal plaques with the names of Rats from two years ago to the present. She kissed her finger then ran it lightly across her husband’s name. “Plighting my troth to you was the smartest thing I ever did,” she told her man.
She went downstairs thoughtfully, hopeful that the grand experiment of St. Brendan the Navigator School would continue. She glanced back up the stairs, putting all her trust in Mr. Ferrier to step into the vacant spot. Able wanted nothing more than to teach here. She put her hope in that, too.
She drew her cloak tighter, unwilling to think of Christmas arriving next month, except that her morning sickness should have ended, and she should be feeling their baby move.
On the sidewalk, she turned around to gaze at St. Brendan’s, pleased with what she saw. She thought she heard boys singing “Heart of Oak,” which made her smile. When they were joined by a wonderful baritone, her heart stopped, reconsidered, then started again.
She saw a little knot of six figures passing Bartleby’s Bakery, one considerably taller than the rest, moving at that rollicking pace of men freed from the pitch and yaw of the seafaring life, with legs trying to figure out land again.
“Able? Able!” She picked up her skirts and ran, not caring who saw her legs, only determined to grab that man as soon as she could.
The last few steps were easier because he grabbed her first. She knew it was scandalous, but she wrapped her legs around his hips as he hoisted her up and kissed her soundly. He reeked, he positively reeked, but she didn’t care. His beard scratched her face, but never mind. He was home and he seemed to have all his parts, as well as all his Gunwharf Rats.
“My goodness, better set me down,” she whispered in his filthy ear. “Any constable in Portsmouth would lock me up as a menace to public morals.”
Able hugged her tighter. “If I must,” he said, patting her rump. “You can do this later and no constable will know.”
Decorous again, her skirts where they belonged, she faced her Rats, who were grinning. “You are such a welcome sight.” She noticed Nick for the first time. “Nick! Did the secretary let you leave the Victory?”
“Master Six is persuasive,” he said in that solemn manner she had missed.
She looked them over. Tots had a plaster on his cheek, but only a small one. When Able removed his bicorn, she saw the bandage on his head, low by his right ear. The light was dim, but she saw no blood seeping through. “This is your work, isn’t it?” she asked Davey Ten.
Davey nodded, his pride unmistakable. “We did some fast surgery in a hot place, Mam, but no one’s the worse off.” He grinned. “Not even that nasty-faced Frenchman.”
Able nudged him and he laughed. “We saved his wretched life in spite of him, didn’t we, Davey?” When the others added their laughter, Meridee knew they belonged to a fraternity that she could never join. She knew they would tell her their war stories eventually, but their shared experiences would never be hers. She knew that was right and proper, even though she dreaded every moment they were away, which was its own purgatory. Because they went to war, she could stay home in peace and raise little ones without fear.
She somehow managed to hug all the Rats at least once, standing there in