Noble Duty

30. The Waiting Game

Gillian and I sat with Camelia on the high stone terrace under the thick canvas awning, enjoying the light breeze that tempered the torrid heat of the afternoon. Below us, beyond the mews, the dry, yellowed lawns of the King's Garden stretched towards St James's Palace, their formal hedges parched and dusty beneath the unrelenting sun.

David stood at the balustrade, peering beyond the trees and rooftops towards the distant Thames, then said, "That sliver of water peeking between the buildings – is that the same river we sailed up?"

"Yes, it is," Gillian replied, "and it is the same one that flows past our Berkshire estate. Though there, the water is clear and clean, not brown and reeking like here."

"Will they take that from you as well, as they are taking this house?"

"They will take neither."

"But Higgins said they had already begun, and with all the carpets rolled and everything stacked away and covered, it looks as though –"

"There is a better chance of snow here before evening, David. They shall take neither house."

She paused and turned to watch Higgins and a parlour maid arrive with large serving trays and arranged their contents upon the table before us. I marvelled at what the household had contrived from the larder and cellars in the short hour since our arrival. A polished silver salver stood upon the low wicker table, bearing cold potted beef beneath a seal of clarified butter and a basket of thinly sliced white manchet. Beside them were early cherries beaded with moisture, a dish of coarsely ground mustard and a cruet of verjuice.

Gillian lifted her glass, the pale yellow wine catching the sunlight. She looked across at Camelia, sitting straight-backed in her chair, and said, "To your coming happiness, Camelia – and to Michael, soon to sail as captain."

She flushed, looked at me and smiled before replying. "Captain Overton has approved his taking command of Atlantica, so we shall have longer together before he sails."

"Oh, my. He must be truly devoted to choose an old ship and more time ashore over the sooner command of a new one."

Camelia took a delicate sip of her wine and sighed. "Thank you, My Lady."

"He is a fine man," I said, leaning back in my chair, coat unbuttoned against the sweltering heat. "These past weeks have taught me the value of companionship at sea – and how much steadiness a trusted woman may bring to a crowded ship. With more ladies taking passage, and our New York trade certain to increase, a capable woman aboard may offer them comforts and counsel that no officer can. A captain's wife might fulfil that office, if she possesses the judgement for it."

"Oh, my. Truly?"

"Indeed. Master Jenson and Judith shall make the first trial of the arrangement, and, if you wish it, you and Michael may follow."

"Oh, I do wish. He loves the sea, but he is torn between long absences and settling ashore."

"Fine, I shall discuss it with him."

As I picked up my glass, David said, "A fine black carriage has entered the lane, sir."

I stood, shielding my eyes beneath the fringe of the canvas awning as a cloud of fine road dust billowed below. "That should be Mr Vance. Shall we clear the decks for battle?"

Gillian drained the remainder of her wine, set the glass on the silver tray and stood. "David, go down and assist Higgins at the rear entrance. Camelia, fetch my writing stand from the morning room. If Mr Vance is bringing the law to Pall Mall, I intend to be ready for him."

A few minutes later, Higgins showed him into the withdrawing room where Gillian and I waited over glasses of cool water. I stood as Gillian said, "Ah, Mister Vance. Thank you for coming at such short notice. This is my betrothed, Sir Jarvis Overton."