He smiled diffidently. "Your kind service in allowing me a berth in your ship does, of course, mean that many observations will be possible that are unavailable to the landbound, and your other kindness in affording me a place ashore to lay my head is of increasing value to me for as I acquire correspondents they will need an address. Dear fellow, your name will most certainly be inscribed in the preface as principal benefactor, you may be assured."
Kydd sat back. This was a far greater project than he had understood; no wonder Renzi had been closeted for hours each day with little to show for it so far. "If there's anything . . ." he began hesitantly.
"Thank you, no. But on quite another subject, did I not spy a certain invitation arrive this morning?"
Kydd reddened. "Er, yes, y' did, Nicholas." How to include his ship's captain's clerk in anything with a naval connection was still not settled in his mind. "From Admiral Lockwood's lady, a picnic t' be held next week over in Lord Edgcumbe's estate," he added, as off-handedly as he could, and handed it over.
"It will be a social event of some significance," Renzi admitted, after studying the card. "All the notables will be there and yourself—but I fear that this, of course, will be by ulterior design."
Kydd paused. "Er, design?" he said suspiciously.
"Why, yes! You are fresh blood, a personable young man of good nature who is at present unattached and shows no immediate prospect of being otherwise. Therefore a prime choice to make up numbers as the hostess has a requirement."
"Oh, I see."
"Do bear the disappointment with fortitude—it would seem that your prospects for many further invitations will be bright, should you acquit yourself amiably enough on this occasion."
"Ah, the invitation says, 'and friend.' Um, Nicholas, would you—"
"It seems to me that here is your opportunity to impress your sister with your social standing. She would be delighted to venture abroad on a picnic, I shouldn't wonder." Cecilia serenely on his arm, Kydd joined the group assembling at the Mutton Cove jetty in some trepidation, conscious of being under eye and, in his new pantaloons and boots, feeling more than a little conspicuous.
There, in the centre, was the admiral's wife, the formidable Lady Lockwood, and Kydd set course resolutely to approach. "Madam, might I be allowed t' present m' sister, Cecilia," he managed, remembering to remove his beaver hat in an elegant sweep as he bowed.
It appeared to satisfy: conversations stilled as the newcomers were noticed, but the admiral gave an encouraging smile and Lady Lockwood replied imperiously to Cecilia, "So glad you could be here, my dear. I'm sure you will enjoy yourself." Her eye rested briefly on Kydd before she moved on to the next arrival.
Kydd glanced about furtively; there was not a soul he recognised but Cecilia steered him subtly to an apprehensive-looking middle-aged woman on the arm of a florid gentleman in blue whom she had met recently at a rout. "Do forgive the impertinence, but I cannot help remarking that adorable bonnet," Cecilia said gaily, "The ribbons do so suit your complexion."
The woman started in pleased surprise, and after Kydd was introduced to her husband the two ladies were soon deep in converse. The short trip across the water to Cremyll in the admiral's barge passed in a blur of impressions. They stepped out to a picture of rural charm: rolling parkland kept in immaculate order, acres of greensward interspersed with pretty groves of English trees and a double avenue of spreading elms that stretched away up the rise to a grand mansion with curious octagonal towers.
"If there are any who feel unequal to the ascent I'm sure we could send for a chair," Lady Lockwood declared. However, it was pleasant in the bright summer sun, passing slowly under stately chestnut trees to sylvan glades, and Kydd's fears slowly eased.
A picnic was laid out on the level expanse of lawn before the great house, servants standing behind hampers with sunshades at the ready, and after the admiral's party had decorously draped themselves over the spread rugs there was a general move to do likewise.
"You must try to be more entertaining in your talk, Thomas," Cecilia whispered sharply, as she smiled politely at the acquaintance who had claimed her attention once more.
Obediently, Kydd turned to the man, one Mr Armitage, a landed relative of the admiral's wife and from Ireland, and whose conversation seemed to consist chiefly of ill-natured grunts. Nothing in common was evident, and Kydd's despairing talk about Pitt's chances of returning to government, the shocking price of tobacco and a juicy local murder all left the man unmoved and he lapsed into silence.
Cecilia had been taken away by Mrs Armitage to meet a friend, leaving them both alone, and while elegant conversations swirled round him, Kydd reflected mutely on the trials of a society occasion. Then he sensed movement and looked round.
It was the admiral's daughter, Persephone, now stooping to offer him a plate. "Mr Kydd, might I press you to try one of these little olive pies? They're quite the most toothsome."
Her gay voice, however, had a cool patrician ring that might have been intimidating.
Her dress—a sweeping filmy gown in sprigged muslin—did nothing to conceal her willowy figure, and a single pink coral necklace complemented a smart beribboned bonnet.
Covered with confusion, Kydd scrambled to his feet. "Miss Lockwood! How g-good to see you again!" His foot caught in the rug and he stumbled, dropping his new hat in his anxiety not to lose the pie he had accepted from her.
She laughed and picked up his hat for him. "This is a smart beaver indeed. It's not often a naval officer displays such good taste." There was a disarming warmth in her tone and the laughter had stayed in her eyes.
"Oh, er, the hat. For that I must own it's my sister is m' pilot in matters o' fashion." He looked about for Cecilia but she was not in sight. "Y' should meet her, Miss Lockwood. All the men do think her the prime article."
"I shall, Mr Kydd," she said, amused. Her glance strayed to the stolid form of Kydd's acquaintance and she added loudly, "If this is your first visit here, you'll be entranced by the views to be had. Do let's see."
Other couples were promenading or talking together and Kydd walked forward stiffly, trying hard to appear fashionable. He felt sudden pressure on his arm as Persephone, stifling a giggle, said softly, "Armitage can be such a bore when he wants to be, and I did feel so sorry for you on your own. Can you bear to forgive me carrying you off?"
"Miss Lockwood! I—I thank you for y' service to me and I do confide it would be of some interest t' me should we sight the Sound." This was a small distance across the rise to the thin line of trees veiling the view eastwards, but still within plain sight of the picnic gathering.
"Then so we shall." They walked slowly together until the rise fell away to reveal the wide, glittering expanse of Plymouth Sound past the Hoe to the busy Cattewater and a sweep on out to sea.
"I never tire of this prospect," Persephone said. "It's always so animated, so ever-changing. But, then, you must have quite another perspective, I'm sure."
Not possessed of a witticism worthy of such a lady Kydd fell back on a simple recounting of a mariner's experience when entering the great port. It seemed to satisfy, for Persephone remained attentive throughout. "Papa tells me you were with Nelson at the Nile," she said.
"Well, not really, I'm afraid—y' see, I was in a different ship fr'm his and we fought in the dark. I couldn't see much o' the flagship."