your face, and don’t wake up Smitty. He’s tired,” she said. A small pat to his rump sent him back upstairs.
He paused halfway up. “Nick isn’t back, too?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Soon, I am certain. Scat now.”
Able received a more extensive cuddle in the sitting room then plopped down with her in his favorite chair, hairy legs and all, nightshirt thigh-high.
“You are a disgrace to the service,” she said, after he rubbed her cheek with his whiskers.
“You didn’t mention that an hour and eighteen minutes ago,” he said.
“You were upstairs in my bed. Stop now. Anyone could wander in.”
He smiled and did as she said, then grew serious. “No word from Nick?”
“None. Not even a message from the harbormaster or the signaling crew,” she said. “We should have had an address for Master Ferrier by now, shouldn’t we?”
“I would have hoped so.” He leaned back and pulled her closer. “Mrs. Six, you are a bountiful bundle.”
“Do be serious.”
“Never more so.” He tugged at the sash on her robe. “We’ll give Nick another day before we start to worry. There is plenty to do, meantime. Mrs. Six, you’re not wearing anything under this robe!”
“Able, what will I do with you?”
“You’re the one who married a sailor, and we do have a reputation to maintain.” He tried to retie the sash, but the intricacy eluded him. She tied it neatly. “Beyond Smitty, plan on four more lads for dinner tonight. You’ll be feeding the Jolly Roger’s crew.” He touched his head to hers and lowered his voice. “We sale in five days toward France. No frowns, please. We’re delivering a message to Admiral Calder, cruising off Rochefort.”
She couldn’t frown. He looked so delighted. “Is it now where I forget you just told me an Admiralty secret?”
“Aye, miss. No comment to anyone. That’s to be the Mercury’s assignment: delivering messages, subject to the requirements of the service and the exigencies of war.”
She rested her head against his chest, and his arms went tight around her.
She did have news for him, forgotten in the general tumult of his return. “I forgot to tell you. We are to assemble at the Jolly Roger’s slip for a re-christening at four bells in the forenoon watch.” She prodded his chest. “I never can remember…”
He stood up, taking her with him. “Ten of the clock, my love.” He sniffed the air. “And do I smell profiteroles?”
“You do. Mrs. Perry loves your weather-worn carcass.”
“She still terrifies me. We’ll eat and go to St. Brendan for early class. Would you and Ben like to walk with us to the Gunwharf later?”
“And Mrs. Perry. This is her war, too.”
“Our war,” he said softly. “We all pay the price.”
At four bells in the forenoon watch, Lady St. Anthony, dressed in black but with a defiant yellow and red bow at her throat, took hold of a champagne bottle on a rope. She declared in a firm voice, “Dear old Jolly Roger, I re-christen you Mercury, in the service of His Majesty King George. May you swiftly sail in courage and faith and never hesitate to lay yourself alongside the enemy. Bless your able crew.”
Grace swung the bottle on the rope and it shattered against the Mercury. She stood in silence a moment, her head bowed, as they all did, thinking of Sir B. Meridee raised her head to watch Grace’s shoulders begin to shake as she covered her face.
Able tensed beside her and whispered, “Go to her, Meri.”
Meridee took a step closer then stopped, holding her breath to see Captain Ogilvie reach Grace St. Anthony when she started to sag. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and held her close. Grace turned her face into his shoulder and cried.
“No,” she whispered back to Able. “Angus has the matter well in hand.”
“How can…he doesn’t…”
“Yes, he can,” Meridee said. “What do you know about his first wife?”
“Nothing. I never pry.”
“Maybe you should. Let’s let Captain Ogilvie deal with our kind friend.”
Able gave her that questioning look she was familiar with, when some action of mere mortals baffled him. See there, Euclid, she thought. You don’t know everything. To her stunned amazement, Meridee felt the distinct snap of forefinger and thumb against her temple. She thought it prudent to say nothing, especially since Able had moved away and was speaking to his students. She looked around, saw no one close to administer such a rebuke, and blamed Euclid. Ben smiled up at her.