“You have every right, Gil,” Lady McKean said using his given name. “My dashing captain, sweeping down with cannons blazing away. You have all the right.”
Anthony half heard the bell. Dinner was being called, and he could feel the guests closing in.
“I have to see you!”
“I’ll send you a message,” she replied.
Then they were caught up in the crowd headed to the dining room. Looking for his place card, Anthony realized that the admiral was not present. Anthony was seated to the right of Commodore Gardner, and to the left was Harvey, the admiral’s flag captain. He looked at Anthony and said, “Sir Lawrence is ill this evening and sends his regrets.”
Commodore Gardner made a little speech once again honoring Anthony and the men of Drakkar for their bravery and wishing them future success. A toast was then made to recognize Anthony’s broad pennant. Then the meal was over. No further contact with Lady McKean had been possible.
As the more senior officers took their leave from the ladies to enjoy cigars and discuss the situation with the pirates, Anthony observed Gabe, then Buck, as each departed. Each man left with a beautiful lady on his arm, creating a touch of envy in him. Mr. Markham was much in his cups and was in tow with Mr. Earl. Hopefully they’d make it back to Drakkar safely.
“Well, Lord Anthony, we hope you enjoyed your evening.” Mrs. Gardner, the commodore’s wife, was speaking.
“Er-yes, madam. It was a wonderful evening. Thank you for being such a wonderful hostess.”
“Not at all, sir. We must thank you for bringing a little excitement into our lives.”
As Anthony took Mrs. Gardner’s offered hand he felt her press a small slip of paper into his hand. He continued his bow and kissed the back of her hand. As Anthony straightened, he thought he caught a wink from Mrs. Gardner.
“I do hope you have a rewarding time while you are at English harbor, sir.”
“Thank you again,” Anthony said. Then he turned to bid the commodore goodnight.
“Could we lunch tomorrow, Gil?”
“It would be a pleasure, sir,” Anthony responded, then walked out into the night. It was warm outside, but still much cooler than it had been inside the house.
Bart was standing beside the coach as Anthony approached. “It’s not over far to the jetty, sir, if you care to stretch your legs. I has yer pipe and Dagan gave me some good smelling tobaccy.”
“Good idea, Bart,” Anthony said, taking the pipe. Bart had already filled the bowl so he lit up and they started their journey down the hill.
“Ye seems to be in a good mood tonight, sir. It appears things are to ya ‘likin’.”
“Aye, Bart, that it is. This island may have some promise to it.”
Bart looked at Anthony. “I left Dagan at the jetty. We ‘ad us a wet or two together and now he’s waiting on Gabe.”
“Might be a long wait,” Anthony answered.
“Nay, sir. Dagan says ‘ell be along in an hour.”
“He does, does he?”
“Aye,” Bart said. “Dagan also said we’d be seeing some big changes in you soon.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes sir!”
“Any specifics?”
“No, sir. I didn’t ask and ‘e didn’t laborate.”
Anthony looked at Bart smiling, “You mean he didn’t elaborate.”
“Nay, sir, ‘e didn’t laborate a’tall.”
Anthony took another puff on his pipe, tasting the gentle sweetness of Dagan’s tobacco. He watched as the smoke drifted on the wind, the aroma of the tobacco intermingling with the smell of salt in the air. Watching the smoke rise and fade away as he exhaled, Anthony pondered Dagan’s predictions. Could it have anything to do with the paper in his pocket? Could Dagan really see the future? Was he a soothsayer?
Chapter Seven
Four bells in the forenoon watch the next day found Anthony, his officers, warrants and midshipmen gathered around his dining table for a meeting. Silas, with the help of a wardroom servant, was pouring lime juice as refreshment. Anthony nodded to Buck to go ahead and start with the meeting. Buck shuffled some papers around, then stepped forward.
“With Commodore Gardner and Captain Harvey’s help, I’ve been able to round up forty-odd hands. With the likelihood that Sir Lawrence will haul down his flag soon, we might pick up a few more sailors who have married and put down roots here. The two schooners are so alike I take them to be sister ships built by the same shipyard. Mr. Earl, you will have command of LeFoxxe. Mr. Anthony will be your second. Mr. Pitts, you will take over the second lieutenant’s duties here on Drakkar.
Pitts couldn’t hide his disappointment. He’d been hoping to get command of one of the schooners. He did manage a “thank you, sir.’’
“The schooner, LeCroix, will be given to Lieutenant Mainard. Sir Lawrence is sending him to us. He was the first lieutenant on one of the brigs that ran around chasing pirates. It was the Admiral’s way of saying that no blame should be directed to the young lieutenant for the brig loss. The captain was killed when the damned pirates came about and poured a broadside into the brig even after she had ran up on the reef. “No mercy, no quarter.” Buck turned to Mr. Markham. “You, young sir, will be Lieutenant Mainard’s second. Each ship will have reliable, seasoned hands from Drakkar dispersed among its crew. Now the schooners have been through the prize court, so they’re waiting on you to go aboard and take charge. However, it’s important that you remember these may only be temporary commands. The admiralty still has to confirm your appointments, but with Commodore Anthony and Sir Lawrence’s recommendations I see no reason the commands will not be confirmed. However, more than one has gone arse hole over tea kettle and lost his command.”
This drew smiles and Earl volunteered, “We won’t embarrass our new commodore or Drakkar, sir. We’re very proud of the trust you’ve placed in us.”
“Here, here,” said the group in unison.
“Now sirs,” Buck started up again, “You have a week to make your ships ready to sail.” Buck noticed a hand go up. “Yes, Mr. Davy?”
“Sir, can I hoist the broad pennant, sir?”
Everyone laughed.
Anthony then spoke up. “Of course you can, Mr. Davy, of course you can.” He then turned his attentions to the rest of the gathered group. “Well that about sums it up, gentlemen. Ours is a difficult task, but I know each of you will do his duty.”
As the group made its way out of Anthony’s quarters, Bart entered. Most spoke a word or two with the wiry cox’n. When Bart had Anthony’s eye, he said, “Gig’s ready, sir. Time for your meeting with Commodore Gardner.”
Anthony nodded to Bart, and then beckoned to Buck.
“I may not he back on board tonight. If I’m delayed as I expect, I’ll send Bart back with instructions as to where I can be reached.”
As Anthony departed, Buck stared at his back, his mouth agape. “Better close your trap before you choke on flies,” the master said jokingly. Buck closed his mouth and swallowed. “What do you think has got into our ‘ere commodore?”
“Well, sir, I ain’t sure. But were I a betting man, I’d lay odds our commodore has been smitten by that new widow woman.”
“Lady Deborah McKean?” Buck asked.
“Aye, sir. That’s the one.”
Anthony was fidgety all during his lunch with the commodore. Anticipating his meeting with Lady Deborah, he kept glancing at his watch. Though time seemed to drag on forever, lunch only lasted one hour. Commodore Gardner had proved a jovial host. However, from the start of their meal it was obvious he was starved for news from England. The commodore quizzed Anthony not only about news from the Admiralty, but he also wanted to hear the latest gossip, rumors and politics. The meeting did get interesting when the subject of the colonies was brought up. He even appeared to sympathize with the colonies and their cause. When Anthony remarked on his comments the commodore explained.
“Out here we’re separated from England. We’ve come to depend on the colonies for half of our supplies. I’m a personal friend with a number of merchants and ship owners. They’ve stayed in my house, and I’ve been a guest in theirs. We’ve discussed the unfair taxes and trade practices our Parliament has placed upon the Colonials. I’ve watched as the crown’s demands have grown. We’ve pushed till their backs are against the wall. Oh, I know my duty all right, but I wish Parliament’s decisions were made in the boardrooms and not the bedrooms. Damn the French and the Dagos. However, fighting the Colonials is like fighting our friends and neighbors. We’ll suffer, Gil. Mark my word… England will suffer.”