glance at Meri. “Nick convinced my wife, Meridee Bonfort, that since she wasn’t using Bonfort anymore, he wanted it, because he needed a surname.”
The old sailing master included Meri in his glance, turning a little since he had only one working eye, from the cloudy state of one pupil. “I suppose, madam, that this curly haired rascal will tell me that you persuaded him to marry you.”
“He can try,” she said. “Do sit down, sir. Wait. Let me take your cloak.”
Followed by Smitty, Mrs. Perry came from the kitchen with two more plates. She saw Master Ferrier, gasped, handed the plates to Meri and threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him over. Able didn’t try to hide his smile, both at the dignified man’s mauling, and the open mouths of the Gunwharf Rats, who knew Mrs. Perry as a terrifying enforcer not easily given to displays of affection. He watched them relax, knowing that Mrs. Perry had just assured Master Ferrier’s acceptance.
“The three of us sailed together on the Defence,” Able explained. “Mr. Perry was ship’s carpenter.” Mrs. Perry returned to the kitchen for cutlery and serviettes. “Nick, an explanation is in order. All I requested was that you locate Master Ferrier’s direction.”
After Mrs. Perry returned with knives and forks, the bowls of food went around again to the latest arrivals.
“Master, you told me to use initiative and I did,” Nick declared, as he piled on potatoes.
“Elaborate, please.”
Nick’s inquiring look at Master Ferrier told Able everything about his former master’s future success with the Gunwharf Rats. Nick already looked to the older man for additional permission.
“Your story, Mr. Bonfort,” Harry Ferrier said. “All I did was open my door to you and listen.”
“I went to Carter and Brustein as you requested,” Nick said eyeing his cooling dinner with a sigh. “Mr. David Brustein told me I was in luck, because Mr. Ferrier lived in Torquay. So I walked there.”
“That’s thirty-three miles,” Able exclaimed.
“A nice man picked me up after ten miles,” Nick informed them, with all his usual good-natured cheer. Nick was a hard Rat to deflate. “You see, master, you had given me enough money for lodging, meals and a return on the mail coach. What if I had spent it on conveyances to Torquay and hadn’t enough to get home? And suppose Master Ferrier told me no?”
Able heard sniffles nearby. He had married such a tender woman. He leaned toward her. “Meri, think how resourceful Nick is.” Her answer was another sniffle; he could comfort her later. “Carry on, Mr. Bonfort.”
“I can do that, Master Six,” Harry Ferrier said. “Nick is gazing at your excellent beef roast like a starving man.” He nodded to Meridee. “Mrs. Six, let me compliment you on a fine table.”
“We always have more later, in case someone gets the urge to nibble,” she said.
Able glanced around the table to see nods of agreement. He even remembered an earlier maid from a workhouse, Jamie MacGregor’s twin, who had squirreled away food, too. Now she lived a few doors down, mistress of her own household and wife of a respected Portsmouth constable. The Sixes seemed to nurture more than Gunwharf Rats.
“Very well then, Master Ferrier,” he said. “If you’ve taken the edge off your own hunger, do continue.”
“I invited him in. Standing right there in the foyer – soaking wet, I might add – Mister Bonfort carefully explained the dilemma. With that cheerful demeanor I am certain you are familiar with, he told me I wouldn’t be making much money. To sweeten the pot, he assured me I’d be living in a drafty monastery, but the food was good and my country needed me. All that in practically one breath. He was a man on a mission.” Ferrier looked around at the others. “Who could say no to that? Retirement is a damned bore. Here I am. Now you can do your duty at sea, Able, as I fill in for you here.”
That was quintessential Harry Ferrier, not a man to waste words. He had one more thing to say before he returned to his dinner. “Is this your Mercury crew?”
“Aye, master. Smitty here is my sailing master, Tots and Whitticombe are good with sheets and sail, Davey Ten is my acting surgeon and Avon March comes highly recommended by another instructor. We will see what he can do. You already know Captain Ogilvie.”
Mr. Ferrier took a leisurely glance at each face, stopping at Meridee. She reached for Able’s hand under the table. “You,