She was happier to admire Grace’s good cheer, and equally pleased to think it had improved in recent weeks in the Sixes’ smaller, mildly chaotic house on Saints Way. Grace’s eyes no longer held the look of bleak desolation that Sir B’s death had fixed in them, a sort of living rictus. Was she happy? Meridee doubted it supremely, but settled on gently content. A widow could do worse.
The men returned to the hall, deep in conversation, Able inclining his head toward the smaller man with the arsenal of gold military decorations on his otherwise plain uniform, his eyepatch and empty pinned sleeve. I shall have to ask my husband if he ever wonders how a workhouse lad could even dream of finding himself shoulder to shoulder with this hero, she thought, proud of Able Six, even if he did keep a pee pot in his classroom. Horrors.
She prepared to blend into the wall as the conversation continued, this time with Captain Ogilvie joining it. “I didn’t even see him in the dining hall,” she whispered to Grace, when Ogilvie moved toward Able and Admiral Nelson.
“He does have a way of materializing like a phantom, does he not?” Grace said. She inclined toward Meridee. “I must admit, though, that I know when he is present.”
“How?”
“He wears the most marvelous lemon-scented cologne.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“I have,” Grace said in a soft voice for Meridee’s ears only. “I like it.”
“Should we stay here?” Meridee asked.
“Yes, we should.” Grace nudged Meridee. “I think our august admiral is gesturing to you. Go on.”
Meridee took a step back instead of forward, unable to think why England’s darling wanted to chat with her. She thought of her introduction to him three years ago, when she came to Portsmouth as a woman in love to plead the cause of one poverty-stricken sailing master to teach at this all-but-unknown school. Surely a man as busy as Horatio Nelson wouldn’t remember that.
He did. Admiral Nelson bowed to her curtsey, then turned to Able. “Master Six, you should have seen this lady pleading your cause several years ago. Wise of you to marry her.”
“It was the smartest thing I ever did,” Able said, tucking her close. He laughed and squeezed her, which made Meridee blush. “I can’t say with equal confidence that it was the smartest thing she ever did, marrying a penniless bastard.”
“Oh, you,” was the best she could manage.
“And now we take him away,” Nelson said. He looked down the hall to another man coming toward them. “Mrs. Six, we need Nick Bonfort, too.”
“No!” Even though she knew how badly Nick wanted to go to sea with the other Rats, the word came out so quickly. The quiet boy who was always sick at sea had easily won her heart after he borrowed her maiden name. “I mean…”
“You mean no,” the admiral said gently. “Nick Bonfort is like one of your own, isn’t he?”
“They all are, sir,” she said, “Nick a little more. I’m certain Able…Master Six…has told you why.”
“He has. He also knows, as you do, that Nick wants to serve in the fleet with the other Rats,” Nelson said. “I am only grateful that my daughter Horatia is too young to serve, and of the female variety.”
Meridee knew all the scandal around Lord Nelson and Emma Hamilton, and their child. She also knew she was staring into kind eyes that understood her own love for a dear one. And there was Able, who went to sea in defense of England without question, when she knew he wanted to be home.
“It’s my war, too, my lord,” she said. “I’ll send Nick off with a great whacking kiss…where is he going?”
“With me,” Nelson said. “This man bearing down on us is Reverend Alexander Scott, my secretary and Victory’s chaplain.” He glanced at Able. “When your sailing master mentioned that Nick Bonfort was a lad fond of detail, with excellent penmanship and a good brain, I knew we needed him.”
“Then he’s yours,” Meridee said promptly, knowing she could cry later. She could almost see the joy in Nick’s face when he heard the good news. “My Gunwharf Rats are growing up.” She willed herself to stand a little taller. “When do you want him?”
“I will return to Portsmouth in the middle of September,” Nelson said. “Reverend Scott will send you a note.”
She moved a little closer to the great man, not wanting to be overheard. “Admiral Nelson, Nick is prone to seasickness. I