Page 37 of Miss Whittier Makes a List
“You are a welcome sight, Miss Whittier,”he said and nodded to Madame Aillet, who refused to enter.“I will send her out soon,Madame,but I do appreciate your allowing her here.”
Hannah’s eyes scanned the two rows of wounded, stopping on one shrouded figure.“Don’t tell me that is Daniel Spark,”she whispered, her hand digging into the surgeon’sarm.
“No, no. He is over there. I do not wonder that you could not recognize him.”He took her hand and led her to the end of one row.
She knelt by Spark’s pallet on the floor, appalled at the damage the soldiers had done. The surgeon knelt beside her.“I think that once the swelling goes down, he will appear much more presentable, but there isn’t much I can do about his nose. He will have to resort to appearing interesting from now on, rather than handsome.”
She leaned closer, touching Spark’s face.“Is he unconscious?”
Lease shook his head.“I think he is just sleeping now. It’s been too long since he has done that. You could wake him up.”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t dream of it,”she whispered, her hand on his chest. The captain stirred and moved his legs, and Lease removed her hand.
“Gently, my dear. His ribs are broken in several places.”He pulled back the blanket to show her the bandages wound tight around his chest.
To her surprise, the surgeon took her hand and placed it on the bandage just above his waist.“Feel that.”
A question in her eyes, she cautiously prodded CaptainSpark.“It feels like paper under there.”She looked at Lease then,as the color drained from her face.“The dispatch? But why didn’t you just destroy it?”
He leaned closer to whisper in her ear.“You need that dispatch to convince the Admiralty thatAntigua’s governor and Lord Luckingham at the Horse Guard are traitors. Otherwise,it is just the word of two Americans who have no love lost on the Royal Navy.”He smiled at her.“At least,I think this is Adam’s case. About you, I am not so sure.”
Hannah regarded him seriously.“I am not sure either, sir.”
“Well, so it sits. I have received a message from Futtrell. He had commandeered a fishing boat and plans a rescue tonight.”
She gasped.“Do you think he can do it? Someone has to get the captain out of here!”
Lease regarded her with a smile.“Precisely my thought. Colonel Aillet is quite prepared to forward our captain toFranceand the guillotine, as soon as he is able to stand the rigors of the voyage.”
“But Mr. Futtrell!”she protested, and then lowered her voice when Spark stirred in his sleep.“He is so young!”
“You will be amazed what people can do, if they have to, my dear Miss Whittier,”he replied, his tone mild, his eyes touched with that weariness again that went beyond mere physical exhaustion.“All I ask is that you stay close to Adam tonight and be ready to do what he tells you.”
She nodded, her eyes on the captain. Lease watched her a moment, then turned away to a sailor who called for a drink of water.“Remember, my dear Miss Whittier. Stay close to Adam.”
Hannah knelt another moment beside Spark’s pallet, and then covered his bandaged ribs with the blanket again. She surveyed the wreckage before her, one eye swollen shut, a nose beaky now at the bridge where it had once been so straight.“Well, thee will certainly look more fearsome on the quarterdeck,”she whispered, resting the back of her band against his neck.
To her surprise, Spark opened his one good eye and looked back at her.“Bosoms,”he mumbled and then closed his eye again, as though the effort was too great.“I was getting awfully tired of that black-and-whitecheck, Lady Amber. Bosoms. Much better ....”Hewas silent then.
I should be offended by thee, she thought as she watched him another moment, then carefully removed her hand from his neck. I wonder why I am not?
“Thee is a pitiful specimen,”she whispered and kissed his hair.“Perhaps we should chum thee for sharks.”
He opened his eye again.“I intend to mend rapidly, Hannah.”
She patted his neck again and rose without comment, pausing in the doorway, wondering if she would see him alive again. Mydear captain, she thought, once you told me that the worst fear was the sound of the guns firing and running in and out. It is worse, far worse, tofear forthe life of another.
Chapter Eleven
Hannah would have given the world for a glimpse of Adam Winslow,but he was nowhere to be found. As it was, she endured a tour of Terceira’s fortress of São Miguel by Madame Aillet, who had a tendency toward the morbid, and dwelt at length on prisoners who had suffered torture in the dungeons. It was not an itinerary designed to soothe her concern over Daniel Spark’s probable fate. She had asked, at the end of the tour, if she could return briefly to the makeshift hospital where the Americans lay,but Madame Aillet’s raised eyebrows ended that attempt. She allowed herself to be escorted to her room, where Madame admonished her to lie on her bed for relief from the enervating heat that rolled acrossTerceirain ate afternoon.
She told herself she was not tired. Hannah paced the room as the little slave skipped after her, fanning, wishing there was something she could do for Daniel Spark besides worry about him. She stopped finally, when she noticed the child was out of breath, sighed, and lay down on the bed, certain that she would never sleep when someone so dear to her suffered. She was asleep almost before she finished castigating herself.
When she woke, the sky was cloudy and thunder rumbled across the choppy water of the bay. She sat by the window in her chemise, staring out atthe palm bent by sudden gusts of wind. When therain finally began, it was almost a physical relief for her. Shecontinued to stare at the water,wondering what Lieutenant Futtrell had planned, and wishing it were Mr. Lansing, older and more seasoned, stillalive and in charge of a rescue attempt. She knew Adam Winslow well, and could only hope that the events of the past month had given him the maturity hewould need for whatever part he played in the events about to unfold.
And what about thee, Hannah Whittier,she asked herself. Is thee capable of instant action? What length will thee travel to see to the safety of Captain Spark? She did not know the answer, beyond a fervent desire to see him alive and stalking many another quarterdeck, the wind at his cheek, and his eyes on the sails. It is not because I love him, she assured herself. He meets none of my requirements for a husband, beyond thefact that he is patient with me,and kind, and listens to what I say. I wish I could say that I was indifferent to his kiss, and the warmth I feel when he is verynear, but that appears to be the nature of rascals.
Her unprofitable thoughts were given a new direction by the summons to dinner. She followed the servant down the polished stone hallway to a charmingbanquet room with a balconied view of the harbor. Adam Winslow, wearing a handsome coat ofFrench cut that almost fit him,beamed at her as he stood conversing with the Aillets, and a tonsured Dominican soon introduced as Madame’s confessor. Other officers, some in French uniform, some in Portuguese, made up the dinner guests. She found herself seated between two Frenchmen,whose English was rudimentary at best, and whose sole occupation appeared to be gazing down her bosom without drawing attention to the fact.
