Page 48 of Miss Whittier Makes a List
“Then spring’em, my good man,”Wellingtoncommanded.“We have a date at the Admiralty.”
They drove all night, Hannah asleep against the viscount’s shoulder as they raced through the silent countryside. When she woke in the morning, her neck stiff and her back aching, she wondered if he had slept at all. He was staring out the window, his eyes half closed, his expression unreadable, as though his body was here in the coach but his heartremained inLisbonwith his troops.
She sat up, and he glanced at her, then resumed his stare out the window.“Have you ever considered, my lord,how often in life we find ourselves wishing we were where we are not?”she murmured.“It seems that is all I have done lately, and I think thee has the same difficulty.”
He nodded.“I should be inLisbon. Oh, Beresford knows his business, and mine, too, but I am commanding.”He clapped his hands together in a frustrated gesture.“It is so hard to convince people that I truly know what I am doing. I know how to fight Napoleon, and it is not by explaining my every move to the First Minister!”
He paused then, as if surprised at his vehemence.“Well, we all have our troubles. Hannah, what will you do once you have given Captain Spark the dispatch?”
“I expect I will return toAmerica,”she replied,wishing the idea had more appeal.
“I wonder,”he said,thenstared out the window again.
Her first view ofLondonwas hazy smoke rising from countless chimneys,to drift, dirt-colored, around low clouds that promised rain again. She looked forSt. Paul’s Cathedral, which she had seen in books, but itwas obscured by the fog that settled everywhere. She shivered.“When did summer end?”she asked of no one in particular.
“I think when you were below deck darning socks,”theviscountsaid.“I trust you have better weather inAmerica. I know we do inSpain.”His voice sounded wistful, as though he wished himself back to the hot summers on high plateaus.
It was well past noon when the post chaise slowed to a stop in front of the three heavy pillars distinguishing the Admiralty House from other, less dramatic government buildings. The viscount helped Hannah from the carriage and stood there a moment, his hands in hispockets.“Perhaps I should come in with you,”he said at last.“My own business can wait, and I worry about what kind of reception you Americans might get from the porter.”
They hurried up the steps, just ahead of the rain that had been threatening all morning, and into the antechamberwith its black-and-white marble floor.Wellingtonset his hat on straighter and strode to the porter’s desk, looking down at the man who sat scratching away with his pen.“Are there any court martialsin session right now?”he asked.
“Yes, sir,”said the porter,“but they have begun after noon recess, so you cannot enter.”
“We have come fromPortugalwith an important dispatch,”the viscount replied,rapping his knuckles on the desk.“We demand entrance to Captain Sir Daniel Spark’s courtmartial.”
“Well, you cannot have it,”the porter replied,turning back to his paperwork.“The rules apply to thearmy as well as the navy.”
Wellingtonstepped back, surprised. Hannah tugged at his cloak.“I told you how difficult it was to do a favor for the English people,”she said.
The viscount nodded and withdrew to the chairs by the large windows. He thoughtfully regarded the porter, whowas deep in his forms again.“I am forced to agree with you, Miss Whittier. This calls for a classicarmy response. Adam, can I trust you to make an appropriate diversion in this antechamber while I whisk Hannah into the trial?”
Adam grinned and held out his hand.“Does thee have a match,my lord?”
The viscount smiled back and handed Adam a box from his pocket.“Make it a good one, Adam. I’ll go your bail if the navy hauls you away.”
“What can they do? Impress me?”Adam asked as he struck a match and held it under the nearest drapery.
“Resourceful chap,”Wellingtonsaid as he watched the smoke rise in a choking cloud from the ancient cloth.“Come, my dear. We have an appointment with the First Lords, whether they know it or not.”
By now the porter was staring at the window, where smoke billowed. Screaming,“Fire! Fire!”he scrambled from his chair, knocking over the inkwell, which spread ink all over his precious paperwork. Adam went to the next window, set another fire and dart?ed out the door as the viscount grabbed Hannah by the elbow andsteered her down the hall.
The first chamber yielded nothing more than a clutch of clerks, busily working over another stack of documents.“We should send Adam in here,”Wellingtonsaid as he closed the door.“Think what a bonfire that would make. Do you suppose anyone actually reads that stuff? We could be doing the navy a favor.”
Hannah laughed and let him tug her along the hall to a massive doorway at the end. It was guarded by two sailors, but the viscount didn’t even pause. He slammed the door open and looked around him in satisfaction.“Ah, yes,”he said and patted Hannah’s shoulder.“Well, here you go,my dear.”He bowed over her hand.“I am certain my wife would thank you for darning all those socks. And I will try to trim my toenails more frequently.”
She let him kiss her hand, her eyes merry.“Good luck with Napoleon, sir. I think thee will win.”
He winked and left the room, his cloak billowing out behind him. Hannah turned her attention to the chamber before her,sighing with relief to see Captain Spark, handsome in full uniformand with hisarmin a sling, standing by his chair, a grin on his face. Others rose, among them Mr. Futtrell and several Marines from theDissuade.She started down the aisle, but was stopped by the sailors from the doorway.
“Let me go!”she shouted.“Iam so out of patience withtheRoyalNavy!”
And then Spark was beside her.“I recommend you release her at once,”he said, scarcely ran>“Lively now,”he added and the sailors let go.
“Whatisthe meaning of this!”shouted a loud quarterdeck voice from the long table at the front of the chamber. The First Lords were standing now, too, craning about for a better view.“Is that a woman?”
“Yes, my lord, quite a woman,”Spark replied,tucking herarmin his good one and pulling her toward the front.“Hannah Whittier fromNantucket,Massachusetts. She has a little present from theBergeronfor you, my lord.”He turned to Hannah and whispered,“Where is Adam?”
“Setting fire to the curtains in the antechamber,”she replied.
