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She slipped her hand through his arm and together they walked towards the fire.

"You are always welcome, Val." She studied him thoughtfully He too had known Richard a long time and had served him as midshipman and lieutenant, until he had eventually become his flag captain. She said quietly "Please call me Catherine. We are friends, remember?" She seated herself opposite and waited for him to. follow suit. "What ails you, Val? We have been worried. About you and Zenoria. Is there something I can do?"

He did not reply directly. "I heard about Sir Richard at the Admiralty." He glanced around as if expecting to see him. "He is not returned yet?"

She shook her head. "It is far longer than we supposed. Four weeks today."

Keen watched her as she turned to stare into the fire. A beautiful, sensuous woman. One whom men would fight over, one who could excite the one she loved to do almost anything. But she was deeply troubled, and was not trying to hide it.

He said, "I was told by one of Lord Godschale's aides that he had been on a mission of some importance. But the weather is foul, especially in our waters. I daresay they are riding it out." He felt her gaze settle on him and he said, "Zenoria was staying with my sisters. Perhaps they smothered her with too much kindness maybe she felt she no longer cared about me-"

Catherine said, "The marriage-is it not agreed upon?"

"She left to return to the West Country. There is an uncle, apparently, in whom she used to confide when she was a child, before he went to the Indies. Now he is back in Cornwall -I know not where. She is with him."

Catherine watched his despair. She knew it, remembered it.

"But you love her?" She saw him nod. It made him look like a young boy. "And I do know she loves you, for many, many reasons. You saved her life, you cared for her when others would have turned their backs. Believe me, Val, I know about such matters at first hand! "

"That is partly why I came. I received a letter from Sir Richard. Did you know… Catherine?"

She smiled despite her anxiety. "That is better. Yes, I knew. About his new flagship, the Black Prince. He wants you as his captain, but I will lay odds that he spoke only of your hoped-for marriage?"

"You know him well." He smiled ruefully. "It is why I went to see Lord Godschale. He was becoming impatient."

She touched her throat and remembered what Bolitho had said about it.

"That is not so unusual, I believe."

Keen faced her resolutely. "I have made it clear. I will serve as his flag captain." He was surprised at her reaction, as if some sort of threat had been removed. "Are you pleased?"

"Of course I am. Who better to stand by my man's side in times of peril? He loves you in the same way he cares for young Adam. I was afraid he would have some stupid captain like-" She dropped her eyes. "That is another matter." When she looked up again her dark eyes were flashing. "And have no fear about your Zenoria. I will find her, although I suspect she will find me first once I am returned to Falmouth. We understand one another. She shall be your bride, Val, but you must be gentle with her. I know from what Richard tells me that you are a decent man, and have only loved one other in your life." She watched the memories clouding his eyes.

"This will be different, more wonderful than you can conceive. But as she will learn to accept your calling as a sailor, so must you be patient with her." She let each word sink in. "Remember what happened to her. A young girl. Taken and used, with no hope, and nothing to live for."

He nodded, seeing her naked back as the whip had laid it open from shoulder to hip. The way she had withdrawn when he had spoken of marriage and how it would be for them.

"I never thought. Or perhaps I did not want to think about it. How she would feel, or if she was tormented that she might never be able to accept-" He could not continue.

She stood up and walked to his chair, and laid her hand on his shoulder, touching his epaulette. Each time she saw a seaofficer she thought of him. What he might be doing; whether or not he was in any danger.

"There, Val. You feel better now? And so do I." She made light of it. "After all, I cannot rely on Mr Allday for everything! "

The door opened and she felt a chill draught from the hallway, although she had heard no bell or knock at the street entrance.

"Who is it, Maisie?"

The girl stared at her, then at Keen.

"Beg pardon, m'lady, but 'tis a gentleman for the captain."

Keen stood up. "I mentioned I would be here a while. I hope that was acceptable?"

Catherine watched him, her gaze very level. "What is it? Something has happened."

He said only, "Please wait here, Catherine."

The servant girl gaped at her. "Would you like some tea, m'lady?"

She realised only vaguely what she had asked. "No, but thank you."

The door closed, reluctantly or so it seemed, as if the servant had wanted to share what was happening.

Keen came back, his handsome features grave as he shut the door behind him. He strode across the carpet and took her hands in his. They were like ice. "It was a messenger from the Admiralty He gripped her hands more tightly as she pulled away "No, hear me. He will want you to know." He saw a pulse beating in her throat, saw the way she lifted her chin. Dread, defiance; it was all there.

"There has been a sea-fight. Richard's ship was involved but they know little more as yet. He must have been returning to England from his mission. A schooner brought the news to Portsmouth, and the telegraph sent word from there to the Admiralty."

She stared round the room like a trapped animal.

"Is he hurt? What must I do? I must be there if-"

He guided her to a chair, knowing it was not strength or courage she was lacking, but a direction to point herself.

"You must wait here, Catherine." He saw the anxiety change to resistance and refusal, and persisted, "He will expect you to be here." He dropped on one knee beside her chair. "You have helped me so much. Let me at least try to do the same for you. I will remain at your service until we learn what is happening."

"When?" One word, which sounded as if it was torn from her.

"It must be soon. Tomorrow, the next day. I felt something was wrong, and yet-" He looked past her into the fire. "I was too beset with my own troubles."

Catherine looked at the gold lace on his sleeve. Was this how it was? How it would be? After all their hopes. Their love. So many women must have known it.

She thought suddenly of Nelson, of Bolitho's bitterness at those who had hated him the most but who had mourned his death the loudest. Nobody spoke of Emma Hamilton any more. It was as if she had never been, even though she had given him the things he had lacked and had needed more than anything. Love and admiration. It was rare to have one without the other.

She said quietly but firmly, "I will never give him up."

Keen was not certain how it was meant, but he was deeply moved.

She stood up and walked towards the door where she turned, the lights reflecting from her dark hair.

"Please stay, Val." She seemed to hesitate. "But I am going to our room for a while. So that we may be together."

13. No Escape

BOLITHO gripped the quarterdeck rail and watched the sky brighten to a harsh intensity. Beneath his fingers the rail was so caked with salt that it felt like rough stone. But the motion was easier as Truculent, now with her topgallants filled hard to the wind, plunged over a wild succession of curling wavecrests.

He stared at the sun as it tried to break through the morning haze. It was like a bright silver platter, he thought, while the aimless bunches of cloud reminded him of fog above the HelfordRiver at home in Cornwall. The air was still tinged with the smell of grease from the galley and he had seen the seamen at work about the upper deck showing less strain than before he had suggested to Poland that a good hot meal was a priority.