Godschale said, "My subordinate did receive a letter from your last captain, offering his services. I thought it odd. I might have expected him to approach you first." His eyebrows lifted again. "A good man, is he not?"
"A fine captain, and a firm friend." It was hard to think clearly with Godschale talking about the new ship. What had happened to Keen? It made no sense.
Godschale was saying, "Of course, in these hard times, the lieutenants may be quite junior, and the more seasoned professionals that much older. But then none of us loses any years, what?" He frowned suddenly. "So I would appreciate a quick decision. There are many captains who would give their lives for the chance to sail
Black Prince with your flag at the fore."
"It would be a great favour to me, m'lord, if you would allow me the time to enquire into this matter." It sounded as if he were pleading. He intended it to.
Godschale beamed. "Of course. What are friends for, eh?"
Bolitho saw his quick glance at the ornate clock on the wall, an elaborate affair with gilded cherubs supporting it, their cheeks puffed out to represent the four winds.
He said, "I shall be in London for the present, m'lord, at the address I have given to your secretary."
Godschale's humour seemed to have faded; his smile was fixed to his mouth. "Er, yes, quite so. Lord Browne's town house. Used to be your flag lieutenant before he quit the navy?"
"Yes. A good friend."
"Hmm, you don't seem to be lacking in those! "
Bolitho waited. Godschale was picturing it all in his mind. Himself and Catherine together, caring nothing for what people thought. He stood up and readjusted the sword at his hip.
Godschale said heavily, "I don't wish to fan old flames, but is there any chance of your returning… er… Dammit, man, you know what I mean! "
Bolitho shook his head. "None, my lord. It is better you know now-I am aware that your lady is a friend of my wife. It would be wrong to promote feelings which are not to be returned."
Godschale stared at him as if trying to think of some crushing retort. When it failed him he said, "We shall meet again soon. When that happens I hope I will have fresh information for you. But until that moment, let me remind you of something. A French ball can maim or kill a man, but ashore, his person can be equally hurt, his reputation punctured in a hundred ways! "
Bolitho walked to the door. "I still believe the former to be the more dangerous, m'lord."
As the door closed Admiral the Lord Godschale smashed one fist down on his papers. "God damn his insolence! "
Another door opened cautiously and the admiral's secretary peered around it.
"My lord?"
Godschale glared. "Not a damn thing! "
The man winced. "Your next appointment will be here very shortly, m'lord."
Godschale sat down carefully and poured himself another glass of madeira. "I shall receive him in half an hour."
The secretary persisted, "But there is no one else, m'lord, not until…"
The admiral exclaimed harshly, "Does nobody in the Admiralty listen to what I say? I know all about it! But with luck, Sir Richard Bolitho will renew his acquaintance with Rear Admiral Herrick in the waiting-room. I wish to give them the opportunity to share old times. Do you see?"
The secretary did not see but knew better than to wait for another tirade.
Godschale sighed at the empty room. "One cannot do everything! "
There were two captains sitting in the outer waiting-room, each avoiding the other's eyes and trying to remain as separate as possible. Bolitho knew they were here to see some senior officer or Admiralty official; he had shared their apprehension and discomfort on more occasions than he could remember. Advancement or a reprimand? A new command, or the first step to oblivion? It was all in a day's work at the Admiralty.
Both captains sprang to their feet as Bolitho walked through the long room. He nodded to them, accepting their recognition and curiosity. Wondering why he was here and what it might indirectly imply for them. More likely they were curious about the man and not the viceadmiral; his reputation, if it were true or false.
Bolitho was more concerned with Godschale's announcement about his flag captain. He could still scarcely believe it. He had known how worried Keen had been about the age difference between himself and the lovely Zenoria. The girl he had rescued from a transport on her way to Botany Bay Keen was forty-one years old, and she would be nearly twenty-two. But their love for one another had bloomed so suddenly out of suffering and been visible to everyone who knew them. He must discover what had happened. If Keen had signified his readiness to be his flag captain merely out of friendship or loyalty, Bolitho would have to dissuade him.
He had almost reached the tall double doors at the far end when they swung open, and he saw Thomas Herrick standing stock-still and staring at him as if he had just fallen from the sky.
Herrick was stocky and slightly stooped, as if the weight of his rearadmiral's responsibilities had made themselves felt. His brown hair was more heavily touched with grey, but he had not changed since he had sailed to support Hyperion in that last terrible battle.
His palm was as hard as at their first meeting, when he had been one of Bolitho's lieutenants in Phalarope; and the blue eyes were clear and as vulnerable as that very day.
"What are you…" They both began at once.
Then Bolitho said warmly, "It is so good to see you, Thomas! "
Herrick glanced warily at the two captains as if to ensure they were well out of earshot. "You too, Sir Richard." He smiled awkwardly. "Richard."
"That is better." Bolitho watched his old friend's uncertainty So it was still as before. Because of Catherine. He had refused to come to terms with it, could not bring himself to understand how it had happened between them. Bolitho said, "I have been given Black Prince I shall hoist my flag as soon as she is fitted-out, whenever that might be. You know the dockyards and their strange customs! "
Herrick was not to be drawn. He studied Bolitho's face and asked quietly, "Your eye-how is it?" He shook his head and Bolitho saw something of the man he had always known and trusted. "No, I have told no one. But I still think-"
Bolitho said, "What are you doing?"
Herrick's chin was sunk in his neckcloth, something which had become a habit when he was grappling with a problem.
"I still have Benbow." He forced a smile. "New flag lieutenant though. Got rid of that fellow with the Frenchie name, De Broux… too soft for my taste! "
Bolitho felt strangely sad. Just a few years since Benbow had flown his flag and Herrick had been the captain. Ships, if they could think, must wonder sometimes about the men and the fates which controlled them.
Herrick pulled out his watch. "I must present myself to Lord Godschale." He spoke the name with dislike. Bolitho could well imagine how Herrick felt about the admiral.
As an afterthought Herrick said, "I am to command a squadron in the North Sea patrols." He gave a genuine smile. "Adam's new command Anemone is my only frigate! Some things never change, but I am well pleased to have him with me."
Somewhere a clock chimed and Herrick said quickly, "You know me-I hate not to be punctual."
Bolitho watched his struggle, but when it burst out it was not what he had been expecting.
"Your new flagship. She is completing at Chatham?" He hurried on as if the thing which troubled him could not be contained. "When you visit the ship, and I have been your subordinate too many times in the past not to know your habits, would you find time to call upon my Dulcie?"
Bolitho asked gently, "What is it, Thomas?"
"I am not sure and that is the God's truth. But she has been so tired of late. She works too hard with her charities and the like, and will not rest when I am away at sea. I keep telling her, but you know how they are. I suppose she's lonely If we had been blessed with children, even the one like you and Lady Belinda-" He broke off confused by his own revelation. "It is the way of the world, I suppose."