Page 40 of Unlikely Heroes
Able came home a week later when she least expected him. It was the middle of the day; class was in session and she and Mrs. Perry had left Ben with the increasingly capable Pegeen. Now and then there was no substitute for a ramble through the Portsmouth market. She and Nick had decided they were in the mood for cod that night.
She never feared the market with Mrs. Perry close at hand. Sailors who might have been inclined to attempt impropriety – this was Portsmouth, after all – gave her a wide berth after a snarl from Mrs. Perry. Meridee had protested this once to Able, preceded by a statement that she was matronly now. “My waist isn’t what it used to be, and my breasts aren’t so perky. I’ll never see twenty-five again,” she had said early one morning in the privacy of their bedchamber. “I do hate to take Mrs. Perry away from other duties. Couldn’t I go by myself?”
Her husband grinned into his shaving mirror. “Meridee-luscious, have you actually taken a good look in the mirror lately? C’mere.”
She obliged him, thinking him silly, and looked into his mirror. He wiped some of the soap off his face and spoke directly into her ear, which set her nerves humming. “You have only grown more beautiful, Mrs. Six. I barely trustmearound you.”
That conversation had landed them back in bed in jig time, considering that he only had a towel around his waist and her shift was remarkably portable. “You will go to the market with Mrs. Perry or not at all,” he said afterward in most unloverlike tones, as he wiped the rest of his shaving soap off her neck. And so she did.
“We’ll fry the cod the way we like it, add some potatoes and gorge ourselves,” Meridee said as they walked home. They stopped at Ezekiel Bartleby’s bakery because it was on the way, ready for petit fours that Nick liked too well. Smitty, as well, but he was at sea.
Ezekiel wore a broad smile as she selected the petit fours. “Better add some more, Mrs. Six,” he said most cheerfully. “Ye’ve got two more men at home.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to his back rooms. “Make it three. You know Captain Ogilvie likes’um, too. He’s sleeping now but I predict he’ll be dining with you tonight.”
Meridee gasped and dashed to the door. She stopped.You are too old to be so undignified, she scolded herself. “Why, yes, Ezekiel, let him know he is welcome to dinner. We dine at six.”
She wanted to pick up her skirts and run home, but Meridee and Mrs. Perry left the bakery at a sedate pace. She slowed down when Mrs. Perry told her, “Mrs. Six he’ll be dirty and tired.”
I don’t care, she thought.I want to at least see him.
The house was quiet when she opened the door and tiptoed in. Pegeen must have heard them, because she came from the kitchen, eyes merry, finger to her lips, and pointed to the sitting room. Meridee set down the shopping basket and peeked in.
Smitty lay sprawled near the fireplace, arms widespread. Able lay curled with Ben on the sofa, both asleep. Davey Ten had dropped into her chair, head back, legs out. She assessed this Gunwharf Rat who lived at Haslar Hospital now, noting that his trousers should be lengthened.
The other crew members must have gone home to St. Brendan’s, where classes were still in session. She watched her men sleeping so soundly, suddenly wanting to gather all of them close, these men of war.How long will you lovelies be here?she asked herself as she closed the door quietly.
She stood in the hall a long moment, filled with love so deep that she could only thank God over and over for their safe return. Able had told her that he thought that Napoleon wouldn’t be subdued for at least ten years. Ten years! She would be middle-aged by then, when she could hope that her man might come home after a day of teaching, eat dinner, sit with her and their children – she knew there would be more – then toddle off to bed, just an ordinary man living an ordinary life.
It was a foolish thought and she knew it. Nothing about Able Six was ordinary. And these two Rats, growing into men almost before her eyes, were not ordinary, either. They were remarkable beings, part of an experiment to prove to the world how good they were, how worthy. They need prove nothing to her, a gentleman’s daughter, carefully raised, who in normal times never would have met any of them on equal footing. She knew their worth, and the knowledge warmed her heart.
“Mrs. Perry, I wonder: Do you reckon it is easier to go to war, or to stay home and wait?” she asked her great good friend when she tiptoed into the kitchen.
“War is easier,” Mrs. Perry said promptly. “That is why I insisted Mr. Perry let me come with him. I hated to remain behind.” She clapped her hands, but softly. “Help Pegeen fill the bathtub in the washroom. You won’t want to get near your man until he sits in hot water for a while.”
You don’t know me, Mrs. Perry, Meridee thought.If the sitting room weren’t full of other people, I would cuddle him right now,dirt, whiskers and all.
Her mutiny must have showed on her face because Mrs. Perry chuckled and swatted the back of Meridee’s dress as if she were two and remarkably recalcitrant.
Chastened and cheerful, she returned to the sitting room to wait. The boys slumbered on, but in no time, Able opened his eyes. She crooked her little finger toward herself. He carefully disentangled himself from his sleeping son, took her hand in his and walked to the door. He closed it quietly behind him, then took her in his arms.
Mrs. Perry was wrong about the dirt and smell. True his face was a little scratchy, but his lips were as ever they were, so expert at making her pull him close and wrap her arms around him. She would have wrapped her legs around him, too, but she knew Mrs. Perry and Pegeen could come through that kitchen door any time they chose. Better let them think she had some dignity.
“I’ve missed you,” she said finally.
“I can tell,” he said. “What are the odds of you and I slipping upstairs?”
“Slim to none, I think.” She did back away a little. Maybe Mrs. Perry was right. She wrinkled her nose. “Did you change your shirt and smallclothes at all?”
“Once. I thought Admiral Nelson deserved to see me at my better, if not my best self.”
“Once in four weeks? Lord Nelson?”
“Aye, miss. I have quite a story for you.” He touched his forehead to hers. “And there is the matter of my father.”
Chapter Eighteen
To Able’s abiding relief, the washroom door had a lock. Once he was clean, Meri was willing. Amazing how a woman could shed so many clothes in such a short time. A towel laid down on the floor with Meri on top of it, and he was in heaven.
“I’ve never coupled in a washroom,” he said, when he could speak in normal tones and breathe without gasping.
