Выбрать главу

Well satisfied, she turned to her daughter. "Now, Persephone, the marquess is very important. You will come and be introduced, and remember, my dear, the men will be making high talk and we should never speak unless addressed directly."

"Yes, Mama."

"Your tamboured cream muslin will do, and do try to bring those curls more into control—you'll be under eye tonight."

The Lockwood carriage rumbled grittily to a stop, the footmen hastening to hand down the party. "Not grand at all—but so in keeping with the man," chuckled the full-dress admiral, as he took his wife's arm. "Consults his privacy always. I know he's only passing through—I wonder who's his host? May need to make his acquaintance after he's gone."

They were greeted at the door by a distinguished butler. "You are expected, sir," he was told, and they were taken up the stairs to a small but discreet drawing room.

Outside Lady Lockwood did a last-minute primping of her ostrich plumes and surveyed Persephone once more before they entered. "Remember, child, a warm smile and special attentions to the host and hostess. We're ready now, Reginald."

"Admiral Sir Reginald Lockwood, Lady Lockwood and Miss Lockwood," the butler announced. Wearing her most gracious smile Lady Lockwood advanced to be introduced.

"Sir, may I have th' honour t' introduce Sir Reginald an' Lady Lockwood, and their daughter Persephone," their host intoned. "Sir," he said, turning to the gaping admiral and wife, "please meet th' most honourable the Marquess of Bloomsbury and his wife, th' Marchioness."

The marquess bestowed a smile. "And perhaps I should introduce you all to my friend," he indicated the genial man standing to one side, "who is the Baron Grenville, foreign secretary of Great Britain—if that will be allowable, William?"

"Why, thank 'ee, Frederick. I think it unlikely that Addington's shambles of an administration will survive the winter, and when Pitt takes power again . . . well, I stand ready to take up the burden once more, hey?"

Lady Lockwood rose from her deep curtsy, struck dumb with the effort of trying to come to terms with what she was seeing, while the charming young hostess took the arm of the marchioness and drew her aside. "Lady Charlotte, I can never thank you enough! You and—" she stammered.

"Nonsense, Cecilia, dear. So good to see you again and, of course, we're delighted to offer Cupid a helping hand. That Grenville happened along was the merest chance, of course." She gave a fond smile and continued, "But, then, with Frederick having succeeded his father it seems they have plans in mind for him in the new year. And that will mean . . . I do hope you will not refuse another engagement with us, my dear?"

Cecilia blushed to be so honoured by one whom, as lady's companion, she had always known as Lady Stanhope. "It will be my pleasure and duty."

Finally Lady Lockwood came to herself and hissed at the host, "Mr Kydd! Why on earth—what are you doing here?"

"Lady Lockwood, this is my house and I believe I may entertain whom I will." It was worth every minute of his recent torments to see her resulting expression.

"A fine part of the country," the admiral said respectfully, to the foreign secretary.

"No doubt, Admiral—but later. I'm with child to find out from Mr Kydd himself if it's true that he once told Frederick in a boat to pull on a rope or be keel-hauled. Come, sir, tell me the story." He accepted a glass of Constantia and took Kydd to one side to hear of stirring events long ago in the Caribbean.

A bemused admiral turned then to the marquess. "Sir, may we know if this is your first visit to the West Country?"

But the marquess had turned to greet an exquisitely turned-out gentleman who had just descended hesitantly from the stairs. "Why, it's Mr Renzi! Well met, sir! I've heard that your thoughts on the ethnicals of the cannibal islands have met with some success."

"You've heard? Well, yes, sir, I have been fortunate enough to secure the approbation of Count Rumford of the Royal Institution, who seems to consider my small musings of some value."

The marquess turned confidingly to Lady Lockwood. "Mr Renzi, a very learned soul. Mark well what he has to say, madam, for his wisdom in matters academical is only matched by his experiences in the wider reaches of the planet."

Lady Lockwood could only curtsy mutely.

"Tell me, Renzi, where are you at present?"

"Mr Kydd has had the infinite goodness to afford me lodging at his own residence, sir."

"Fine fellow, an ornament to his service," the marquess agreed, then called across to the foreign secretary, "I say, Grenville, this is Renzi. Do you remember him? Hatchards in Piccadilly and the occasion need not trouble this gathering."

"Why, yes indeed. Good day to you, Renzi. Have I by chance yet won you to a proper appreciation of the Grecian ode?"

"Perhaps, sir." Renzi chuckled, and the three laughed at remembrances of former times and past perils, while Kydd had eyes only for the soft and very special look thrown to him by Miss Persephone Lockwood.

CHAPTER 11

IN BARN POOL, not half a mile south from the pleasant walk round Devil's Point, at precisely ten in the forenoon, HMS Teazer went to stations for unmooring. On her pristine quarterdeck Commander Kydd took position, legs braced astride, trying not to notice the promenaders gathered to watch a King's ship outward bound to war.

Everything about the morning was perfection; the deep colours of sky and sea, the verdancy of the countryside in the languid sunshine, the easy south-westerly breeze, the fine seamanlike appearance of the ship he commanded. And the incredible knowledge, which he hugged to himself, about Persephone.

"Take her out, L'tenant," he ordered. "You have th' ship." Even with the small craft lazily at their moorings in Barn Pool and ships passing to and from the Hamoaze, it would not be an onerous task to win the open sea.

"Aye aye, sir," Standish said smartly, and stepped forward. "Lay out 'n' loose!" Topmen manned the rigging and climbed out along the yards, sail blossomed and caught. Teazer swayed prettily as she got under way, leaving Devil's Point to larboard, but Kydd knew he could not snatch a look for she was watching. Possibly even now his image was being scrutinised through a powerful naval telescope.

Rounding Drake's Island Teazer heeled to the sea breeze and made splendid sailing south to the wider sea. This time there would be no sordid grubbing about after smugglers—that could wait for now. Today it was a more serious matter: Kydd was to go after the privateer Bloody Jacques, who had appeared off the coast again and slaughtered more innocent men in his predations.

Teazer was under orders to look into every bay and tiny cove, even the lee of islands, from Rame Head westwards—everywhere that the privateer with his uncanny local knowledge might conceivably hide himself. Kydd vowed that when they came upon the rogue he would make sure his career was ended then and there.

But it would be without their gunner's mate. Stirk had not yet returned from his mission to Polperro. Just before they sailed Luke Calloway had straggled back with a painfully written note:

Dere Mr Kydd. Agreable to yr order, I hav enquyered of the wun you seek and fownd him owt and now I sayle to fynd the hevidance I may be gon won or 2 weaks yr obed

Tobias Stirk

Did this mean he had uncovered something? Kydd felt misgivings at the thought of the open and straight-steering shipmate from his days on the fo'c'sle trying to act the spy in the company of a villainous and ruthless gang. But if any had the brute courage and strength of mind to see it through, it was Stirk.

"Course, sir?" Standish asked.

"Oh—er, to weather the Rame," he replied. Coastwise navigation did not require elaborate compass courses and it would exercise Standish to judge just when to put about to fetch the headland in one board.