had remarried last year. He thought it prudent not to consider the matter too intensely, the French being so prickly.
None of his fellow scientists and geniuses had any good advice. Lately, they had seemed to think he should rely more on himself.
But wait. There was some sort of clamor at the door to that spectral antechamber where he sometimes found himself. Able settled back, content with the pleasant warmth of Meri’s breasts against his chest, and wondered who it might be.
We can’t let you in. You’re not one of us, he heard from William Harvey, who should have known better, considering his usual sense of humor.
Just listen to me then, Able heard.
He recognized the voice, and felt a great weight lift from his heart. He put his hands behind his head and smiled at the ceiling.
He strained to hear the whispered conversation there at the door, but it was indistinct. The Italians gesticulated, the Germans folded their arms, and van Leuwenhoek grinned, a merry Dutchman.
Able knew how persuasive Captain Sir Belvedere St. Anthony could be, and no one strode a quarterdeck with more elán. His heart grew tender as he heard Sir B through the door, his voice intense. I should have thought of this earlier, but I was in great pain.
Euclid seemed to have the final say among the quarreling specters. Able listened and thought he heard, We’ll make it right, sir, now return to your quarterdeck. Trust Euclid to look out for him, even though Meri had insisted that he stay in the hall at nights.
Before the sun rose, he woke Meri with a kiss and a cuddle, aware that Ben would wake soon, and the household would be up and ready for another day.
“Some men take their wives to sea with them,” Meri whispered in his ear.
“Captains, Meri, which I am not, and never in time of war,” he told her. He smoothed back her hair and looked down at her lovely face. “Something tells me this nasty bit of news will work out.”
“Something or someone?” she asked, her fingers in his curls.
By God, this woman knew him. “Very well, then, someone.”
She laughed softly and raised up to kiss him. “Considering that I banished him, Euclid is remarkably kind to me.”
“No Greek can resist a pretty face.”
She grew serious then, and pulled him closer. “Never forget that I am your keeper.”
Chapter Seven
The reading of Sir B’s last will and testament began promptly at two bells in the forenoon watch, in Headmaster Thaddeus Croker’s office. Classes had been dismissed and the students were under the thumb of Mrs. Parmley, bosun’s widow who ran as taut a ship as her husband ever had. Spiders lurked in vain at St Brendan’s. There were no decks to holystone here, but she had her boys scrubbing and cleaning.
Composed, her hands in her lap, Grace sat next to Meridee. Only the dark circles under her eyes betrayed the sorrow and despair that had taken their toll during the last few weeks of her husband’s life on earth.
It wasn’t dignified, but Meridee nudged Grace, pleased to feel an answering nudge. “This isn’t the first time it has been you and me in a roomful of navy men,” she whispered.
Grace took her hand. “You are remembering Trinity House, are you not? We were formidable then.”
Meridee recalled the two of them pleading St. Brendan’s case last year with the conviction born of experience; the Trinity Brothers had listened. We need each other, Grace and I, she thought. Do other navy wives feel that way? “I remember,” she said, her voice low. “Grace, we are still formidable.” The glance they exchanged warmed Meridee’s heart.
Smitty sat on Meridee’s other side, impeccable in his St. Brendan’s uniform. Meridee admired his calm air, wondering how he managed. None of the other St. Brendan’s lads were there. He betrayed his youth only once when he leaned toward her and whispered, “Mam, what do I do if someone calls on me?”
She had no idea. “You stand and give a respectful nod and look at them straight on.”
“I won’t frighten them?”
She touched his hand, then rested it lightly on his. “No, Smitty. What you are is capable-looking and courageous.”
“I think they frighten me,” he muttered under his breath.
He gave her a rare smile, belying his words and reminding her again of the man whose will they were about to hear. Why she was there made even less sense to her than why Smitty was, except that she loved Sir B as much as