care to contemplate.” He kissed her. “I want to teach, and now I must fight aboard ship again. You’ve turned me soft, Meri-deelightful.”
“You’re blaming me?” she asked in her gruff voice that always made him smile. She settled in more comfortably, and by God, she was soft.
“I’d rather be here,” he admitted. “Don’t go to sleep yet. I have another matter of interest.”
“Please, no more spies,” she said.
“No, I promise!”
“Cross your heart?” she teased, which meant more pleasantry, of which he was the beneficiary this time.
“Meri, how can I concentrate,” he said finally, which made her snort, and mutter something about concentrating better than the entire population of England. “Enough, you scamp! Remember what I told you about my father?”
“You saw him?” That one content woman could move so rapidly from languor to high alert startled him.
“No, alas.” He told her the story of his near encounter. “The captain of the Firme deliberately kept me away from the lee side of the ship.”
“Meaning….”
“He didn’t want me to see what was happening on that side of the ship closest to shore,” he explained. “The captain wouldn’t even look at me, but I assumed that was the humiliation of surrendering his sword and ship to the Royal Navy.” He fiddled with her hair. “The sergeant of Marines brought over a lantern when he boarded. Capitan Villavicencio took a really good look at me and went pale.”
“Spanish father and English son,” Meri said.
“He admitted with some satisfaction that his ruse in occupying me had allowed the Conde de Quitanar to slip over the side into a pinnace and return to the Spanish flagship.”
“My goodness. So close,” Meri said.
“I wish we had engaged the enemy on the morrow,” Able said. “I’d have given the earth to capture Gravina’s Argonauta and meet the man who ruined my life.”
“Maybe another time,” she said.
“Most certainly. As it is, Admiral Calder has been recalled to Admiralty House – another dispatch carrier is taking that unwelcome invitation to the fleet – where he will suffer a court martial. I doubt the admiral will serve in the fleet again.”
“Harsh.”
“War.”
Able resumed his duties across the street in the morning after a breakfast so huge as to render him sleepy by eight bells in the forenoon watch. Or perhaps it was the loving. He had said that to Meri on his return from St. Brendan’s that afternoon, and she laughed.
“It’s my right and privilege to jolly you back to life,” she said in his ear, so the boys wouldn’t overhear.
And so she did, for the rest of the week. He knew nothing could ruffle her own well-being, not even the letter he brought home after school at the end of the week. He saved it for dinner, because he wanted Grace and Master Ferrier, if he dropped in, and the Rats to listen, especially Nick.
“Headmaster Croker received this letter,” he announced, after the mutton ragout. “It appears St. Brendan’s will host Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson tomorrow. There will be a dinner for all of us.” He nodded to Meri and Grace. “Ladies included,” then turned his attention to Nick Bonfort, who had been quietly listening all week to the exploits – oh, call them boasts – of the Mercury crew. “He is bringing along his secretary, the Reverend Alexander Scott, who complained in my hearing that he was too busy with paperwork. Drowning in it, he said.”
“Paperwork?” Smitty asked with some scorn.
Able saw Nick wince. Time to change that. “How do you think you are fed aboard ship, Mister Smith?” he asked, probably with more vigor than the question required.
“Well, I…” Smitty stopped and considered the matter. A wry smile revealed a humbler Smitty. “Without those bills of lading, nothing happens, does it?”
“No, Mr. Smith, it does not,” Able agreed. “Mind you, when you are a warranted sailing master, you will inspect a numbing quantity of kegged beef, salt, ink, dried vegetables, then apply your initials and stow it just so in the hold. Without clerks and secretaries, you wouldn’t eat.”
“Aye, sir,” Smitty replied with a more sincere smile. “We need our secretaries.”
“Indeed we do,” Able replied, hoping Nick felt better. “I had the honor of speaking with Admiral Nelson only weeks ago, and also Reverend Scott.” He thought a conspiratorial lean closer to the boys across the cutlery and plates wouldn’t go amiss. “They often deal with spies and odd arrangements in alleys that also influence the national scene. Bear that in mind.”
Grace St. Anthony approached him when the boys had