Page 23 of Unlikely Heroes
Able overruled the offer of lodging, as much as he wanted to stay. The upstairs chambers were comfortable, but time was wasting. Five days, after all, and so much to do. He had asked the postilion earlier to be ready for a return journey. A visit to the kitchen saw the man and his post boy eating to the bursting point and flirting with the scullery maid and cook. “Thirty minutes,” was all Able needed to say.
With Captain Rose’s permission after a quick meal, Able took Smitty up another flight of stairs to a little-used storeroom. He opened the door and held the lamp high over the gilt-framed portrait. “Here he is, Smitty, my father the enemy. Just as I told you.”
“Good God,” Smitty said, startled. He glanced at Able, and back at the likeness that watched them both under heavy-lidded, familiar eyes.
“His name is Francisco Jesus Domingo y Guzman, Conde de Quintanar,” Able said. “You remember Captain Ogilvie, do you not?”
“Aye, sir. He gives me the willies. ‘E just pops up here and there.”
Well put, Able thought, amused. “This is the chap he saw in Cádiz by theSantísima Trinidad.”
“Take the portrait with you.”
Captain Rose stood in the doorway, quiet and composed, the perfect Elder Brother to lead Trinity House through a war. “If you meet the man in the frame…well, you will know what to do. He is an enemy to England.”
Would he know? Small portrait in hand, Able went downstairs to see the aforementioned Captain Ogilvie standing beside the branching stairwell.
As usual, Angus Ogilvie wasted not a moment. “Stay here, boy,” he ordered Smitty, and took Able by the arm into a darker corner. Come to think of it, Ogilvie flourished in dark corners.
“I need to leave n…”
“I know, I know. Give me a moment.”
Able waited. Ogilvie looked around and moved closer. “Lord Gambier gave me orders, too, the kind that don’t come with documents. You are to inform me when you sail with dispatches for the Channel Fleet.”
“Why, sir?”
Ogilvie made an impatient gesture. “Sometimes I might need to accompany you and slip ashore. Whether this is the right time or not…” He shrugged. “Circumstance will dictate.”
Able nodded. He was not surprised. “Where will I send such a notice?”
Ogilvie grinned at him. “Send a message to Ezekiel Bartleby at the bakery. He has a spare room and I do love doughnuts.”
Able couldn’t help his laughter.Serve you right if you get too fat to fit into a jolly boat, he thought. “Aye, sir.”
He turned to go, but Ogilvie stopped him. “And Lady St. Anthony? How is she faring?”
“As well as can be.”
Ogilvie surprised him then. His voice turned surprisingly tender, considering that the man probably hadn’t a sympathetic bone in his body. “She was dealt a poor hand, but she knew that going in.” He released Able’s arm. “She played it well.”
“She did,” Able agreed. “I must go. Are you coming with us to Portsmouth?”
“Not now. I have work to do here,” Ogilvie said. He backed into the shadows, then came forward again. “How about it, laddie? Willyouknow what to do if you come face to face with the Spaniard in the frame?”
Chapter Eleven
“And that was my trip, Meri. Hector Rose told me I would know what to do, should I meet my father. Our beloved friend Captain Ogilvie didn’t sound so certain.”
“Oh, him,” Meridee said. She knew her husband was precisely where she wantedhim, and she snuggled close, thinking of the months ahead when he would likely not be so available. She could also tell that Able had no idea what he would do. Her decisive genius sometimes floundered, and she loved him all the more for it.
She listened for more conversation, but he was done for the night, worn out with travel and trying to sleep in a post chaise. She heard deep breathing beside her, his hand relaxed and heavy on her hip now.
She turned over to face him. They hadn’t bothered to close the draperies, so she admired him, envying his long eyelashes. As she watched, his dear face grew slack, making him look older than his twenty-nine years. She wondered how Nick Bonfort was faring in Plymouth at Carter and Brustein, with his note asking the whereabouts of Harry Ferrier. Her heart told her Nick was too young for such an assignment, but her head overruled her heart. Nick’s service was needed by his country. How was a lad to train for the fleet if he was coddled? And hadn’t Able sent him off with a bit of advice? “Initiative, my boy, initiative.”
Meridee woke up before Able stirred, and before Ben started talking to himself in the next chamber. Ben had begun that when he started speaking in full sentences at age seven months. At first he seemed to play with words, rhyming them and giggling to himself, trying out language and finding it to his liking. Now he had graduated to what sounded like answers to questions posed by…someone. She didn’t want to know who that someone was, but she was heartily tired of Greek mathematicians.
She cinched her robe tight and went downstairs, happy to admire the neatness and comfort all around. She had made a good, calm home for her man, who had awakened her an hour or so ago by nuzzling her neck and refreshing her thoroughly, before returning to deeper slumber. Goodness what a lover.
