‘So,’ said Baird, with feeling, ‘here’s a what-a-to-do before me, I must declare. We can’t let it become public property in the colony that we were ever affrighted by the French or a rising by the Xhosa, so how can we decently hail it as a triumph? At the very least, gentlemen, in my dispatches I promise you I shall make it my business that it is not forgotten.’
He held out his hand in sincere admiration.
‘Well,’ Renzi said, with a sigh, ‘after the excitement it’s back to work for me, I fear. My desk under a monstrous pile, I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘Ah, as to that, er . . .’ Baird looked uncomfortable ‘. . . um, there’s someone I’d like you to meet, Renzi.’
He went to the door and called, ‘Ask Mr Barnard to attend me, if you please.’
A studious gentleman, with a careful but intelligent manner, entered.
‘Renzi, there’s no way I can think to break this to you without disappointment, therefore without further scruple, I have to introduce Mr Andrew Barnard, who is to be the permanent colonial secretary for Cape Colony.’
Turning white with shock, Renzi stood for a moment before awkwardly returning his bow.
‘Whitehall has seen fit to ignore my earnest recommendation on your behalf and is insisting on a professional civil servant in post. I’m – I’m truly sorry that this has been denied you, especially after your recent, er, experiences, of course.’
Seeing Renzi’s stricken features, he hastened on, ‘I’m sure Mr Barnard will be kind enough to desire that you remain in your quarters in the castle until your affairs are, um, more settled.’
‘That – that won’t be necessary,’ Renzi said faintly.
‘Ahem. I’d wish it were possible to offer you a lesser post in keeping with your undoubted talents but these have all been taken and I fear that the financials would frown on my creating a sinecure.’
‘I understand, sir.’
With the utmost dignity, he turned and left.
The bottle of Cape brandy was half gone, and Renzi stared bleakly out of the mullioned stern windows at the grand sight of the majestic mountain and the pretty town beneath it.
His eyes brimmed as he murmured brokenly, ‘Cecilia would have loved it here. Such a spirited creature! It must have been for her that Pliny wrote, “Ex Africa semper aliquid novi.”’
He sobbed just once, then looked up. Seeing Kydd hadn’t understood the Latin, he said distantly, ‘“There’s always something new out of Africa.”
‘And now this great land denied me.’
He buried his face in his hands.
‘There’s some who would rejoice it,’ Kydd said.
‘How so?’ Renzi said, raising his head.
‘Those who’ve missed having their friend to share adventures and triumphs.’
Renzi gave a wan smile. ‘But I’m destitute – no future, no—’
Kydd bit his lip, then spoke in rising irritation. ‘Nicholas, I find I’m to talk to you as I must to a foremast jack who’s clewed up before me at the captain’s table for the seventh time and needs a steer in life. I speak plainly, for you are my closest friend. You’re a man of colossal intellect and logic, who’s also the bravest person I know. How then can I put this? With all your talents, m’ friend, there’s one thing you lack that’s sorely needed.’
‘Oh? And what’s that?’ Renzi said defensively.
‘Damn it – a firm hand on the tiller o’ life!’ Kydd exploded. ‘A pox on it! Now, mark well what I have to say, Nicholas, for believe that I mean it! As God is my witness, do I mean what I say!’
Renzi was ashen-faced at his outburst.
‘You shall have your position back in L’Aurore but on one stipulation – which is the strictest possible condition for the post, which you refusing will see you put ashore directly, to languish in this destitution you seem to crave.’
At Renzi’s mute stupefaction, he continued more calmly: ‘We’re near to finishing our business at the Cape and must return to England soon. The condition is that the very instant we touch at Portsmouth you do post to Guildford and that very hour – not a minute longer, do you hear? – you do go down on your knees and beg Cecilia to marry you.’
‘What?’ Renzi gasped. ‘I can’t – she—’
‘She’ll be the one to say whether you’ll be wed or not – and never your poxy logical backing and filling until we’re all dizzy!’
‘But – but I haven’t the means,’ he said piteously.
‘Then find some! Take your courage in both hands and ask the woman!’
‘I – I . . .’
Kydd sighed heavily. ‘Good God! Do I have to make my meaning plainer? You shall never set foot in L’Aurore again without you swear this thing – that is my last word, damnit!’
In great emotion, Renzi finally nodded agreement.
‘What do you swear? Say it!’
‘That when our ship touches English soil . . . I . . . I will beg Cecilia’s hand. I’ll ask her . . . to marry me.’
Kydd helped himself to a stiff brandy. ‘She may turn you down as not worth the wait, o’ course.’
At the look on Renzi’s face, he hurried on, ‘As to means – I know you’d forswear charity from me but, Nicholas, there must be a way, damnit!’
He began pacing the cabin, then stopped.
‘Have you considered, well, that your publisher friend might be on the right tack? Should you not give the public what they crave, then later indulge yourself in your noble work? If it’s a novel they want, give ’em one. I’m persuaded you’ve one or two adventures to draw on as will set hearts to beating, keep feminine eyes to the page and even rouse out a hill o’ coin from the booksellers.’
Renzi was taken aback. ‘A novel?’
‘Yes!’
There was a long pause before he responded. ‘Well, um, I suppose I can see that there’s been one or two, er, instances in my life that may be of interest to others.’
The idea seemed to take hold and he brightened visibly. ‘But, in course, Cecilia must not hear of it – I will write under a pseudonym and you will vow never to tell anyone.’
‘I so promise.’
Renzi poured another brandy each and pondered for a space. ‘Hmm, how does – Portrait of an Adventurer by Il Giramondo sound to you?’
Kydd beamed – and the two friends roared with laughter and raised their glasses.
Author’s Note
The triumph of Trafalgar may be seen in two ways: it lifted the fear of invasion for England on the one hand, and on the other it gave command of the seas to the Royal Navy, which they immediately put to good use. One by one Britannia relieved the French of their possessions and added to her own, so by the end of the war in 1815, there was an empire that was truly global, and which, even in my own lifetime, accounted for a quarter of the world’s population. Kydd’s adventures in Conquest therefore mark the start of an exciting new episode in his naval life: the race to empire.
Kathy and I had the great pleasure of visiting Cape Town on location research for this book in November 2009. Much of what Kydd knew there remains to this day. The Castle of Good Hope is in immaculate order, astonishing in a fortification nearly four centuries old. Government House still stands regally in the very pleasant Company Gardens where Kydd promenaded with Thérèse. And the Chavonne Battery, which fired on L’Aurore during her daring reconnaissance, has been preserved for posterity.