done so far is show up at St. Brendan unannounced and declare that you were meant to be here,” he said, “no matter how poorly Sir B’s rascal brother treated you and your mother. You took a chance. It’s making all the difference.”
Able watched a light come into Smitty’s eyes. He wondered if the normally taciturn lad would say something more, hoping he would, in fact. Smitty merely nodded, said “Aye, I did, sir,” and walked away. Smitty made a point before the Mercury sailed to help Nick decide what should go in his duffel bag, as the younger boy prepared to ship out on the Victory. Bravo, Smitty.
But oh, the tug of domestic life, before shipping out again, with Ben to enjoy, and Meridee to tease and love. It was enough to make a seafaring man question if life on shore was better. He had said as much to Meri one early morning. “You, my love, are a sailor,” she had reminded him seriously, or as serious as Meri could look with her hair a mess, and naked. “I’ve watched you stand at the window and stare out at the sound. You know you miss the ocean.”
“I miss you when I’m at sea,” he pointed out. They had had this conversation before.
“Then you are a total no-hoper…” When she hesitated, Euclid pointed out inside Able’s head that she was probably going to call him Durable about now. “Able,” she finished, which made Able chuckle. Even Euclid was wrong upon occasion. Come to think of it, what was Euclid doing in their bedroom? Maybe it was time for another stern talk with the mathematician, once he was alone and had the deck to himself on the way to Spain. Euclid knew better.
Meri had saved her best goodbye after Nick said he would run ahead to the Gunwharf, after Mrs. Perry had glared at him and threatened him to return in good shape, and after Ezekiel Bartleby had brought by his favorite sugared biscuits.
What a woman. She set his duffel outside the front door, told Ben to watch it for Papa in case of Barbary Pirates, closed the door, and hauled him in close for a kiss that left his knees weak. “There’s more when you return,” she said. She fluffed her hair, put on her bonnet, then smiled and patted the scurrilous locket he had left for her before the first voyage. Her long, slow wink nearly undid him.
“Come, my dear. Let us make our way to Gunwharf,” she said, her shoulders squared and her back straight. He knew she would cry later, but this magnificent lady awed him almost as much as Mrs. Perry, on occasion.
Davey Ten had nearly missed the Mercury’s departure. “The surgeon showed me how to suture a wound,” he announced to the others as he threw himself aboard at the last moment. “He made me do one.”
Tots wrinkled his nose. “Eww!”
It was hard to remain dignified in a pile on the deck, tossed there by the sudden catch of wind in sail, but Davey tried, with surprising dignity. “Tottenham, be happy that I know a little more on this voyage,” he said, as he stood up, balanced himself and snatched a stray bandage roll rolling from his medical satchel.
“Belay that, both of you,” Able said, amused. “Take your duffel below, Mr. Ten.”
They sailed on a spanking breeze, with Smitty deliberately wheeling the Mercury nearly over on her starboard beam to catch every puff of wind, knowing how beautiful Sir B’s yacht looked under all sail, dancing along. Able stood beside Smitty, feeling the wind on his face. Meri was right; these moments with the odor of tar, and the rumble underfoot that meant waves and water were of paramount importance to him.
The canvas-wrapped, tar-covered dispatches were stowed safely below, heading for Admiral Collinwood on the Royal Sovereign, somewhere in the Gut, the strait of Gibraltar that beckoned into the Mediterranean Sea. Royal Navy blockaders had planted themselves firmly south of Cádiz to deny access to any of the Combined Fleet from sailing into that wide-open sea, where they could be hard to find.
Before that rendezvous with the Royal Sovereign, the Mercury had additional orders from Trinity House to sail under cover under darkness to Tarifa and drop off Captain Ogilvie. After that mail drop to the Royal Sovereign, they were to pick him up in a week, this time with Jean Hubert, who had been observing the Combined Fleet in Cádiz harbor and who was