The shadow of the eagle

'What is the significance of a letter from Bushey Park, Nathaniel?' Elizabeth asked as they hurried on.

'It is the residence of Prince William Henry, my dear.'

'The Duke of Clarence?'

'The same. And admiral-of-the-fleet to boot.'

'Lord, lord,' remarked Elizabeth smiling mockingly, 'I wonder what so august a prince has to say to my husband?'

'I haven't the remotest idea,' Drinkwater replied, but the news cast a shadow over the proceedings, ending the period of carefree irresponsibility Drinkwater had enjoyed since leaving Angra and replacing it with a niggle of worry.

'One would think', he muttered to himself, 'that a cracked arm would be sufficient to trouble a man.'

'I did not quite catch you,' Elizabeth said as they reached Lothian's Hotel.

'Nothing, m'dear, nothing at all.'

'Congratulations, Frederic; she is a most beautiful young woman and you are a fortunate man.' Drinkwater raised his glass.

'I owe you a great deal, sir,' said Marlowe, looking round at the glittering assembly.

'Think nothing of it, my dear fellow.'

'There was a time when the prospect of this day seemed as remote as meeting the Great Chan.'

'Or Napoleon himself!' Drinkwater jested.

'Indeed, sir.'

'It is a curious fact about the sea-officer's life,' Drinkwater expanded, warmed by the wine and the cordiality of the occasion, 'that it is almost impossible to imagine yourself in a situation you knew yourself to have been in a sennight past.'

'I know exactly what you mean, sir.'

'The past is often meaningless; enjoy the present, it is all we have.' Drinkwater ignored the insidious promptings of ghosts and smiled.

'That is very true.' Marlowe sipped at his wine.

'How is Ashton?' Drinkwater asked, looking at the young officer across the room where he was in polite conversation with an elderly couple.

'As decent a fellow as can be imagined. Shall I forgive him the past too?'

'If you have a mind to. It is sometimes best; though I should keep him at arm's length and not be eager to confide over much in him.'

'No, no, of course not.' Marlowe paused and smiled at a passing guest.

'I am keeping you from your duties.'

'Not at all, sir. I should consider it an honour to meet your wife, sir.'

'Oh, good heavens, forgive me ...'

They walked over to where Elizabeth was in conversation with Lieutenant Hyde and a young woman whose name Drinkwater did not know but who seemed much attached to the handsome marine officer.

'Excuse me,' he interjected, 'Elizabeth, may I present Frederic Marlowe ...'

Marlowe bowed over Elizabeth's hand. 'I wished to meet you properly, ma'am. Receiving guests at the door is scarcely decent...'

'I'm honoured, Mr Marlowe. You are to be congratulated upon your bride's loveliness.'

'Thank you ma'am. I should like to say ...' Marlowe shot an imploring glance at Drinkwater who tactfully turned to Hyde and his young belle.

'You have the advantage of me, Mr Hyde ...'

'I have indeed, sir. May I present Miss Cassandra Wilcox ...'

Drinkwater looked into a pair of fine blue eyes which were surrounded by long lashes and topped by an intricate pile of blonde hair. 'I fear I am out of practice for such becoming company, Miss Wilcox, you will have to forgive an old man.'

'Tush, Captain, you are not old ...'

'Oh, old enough for Mr Hyde and his fellows to refer to me as Our Father,' said Drinkwater laughing and catching Hyde's eye.

'How the devil did you know, sir?' queried Hyde, eyebrows raised in unaffected surprise.

'Oh, the wisdom of the omnipotent, Mr Hyde. It was my business to know.' Drinkwater smiled at Miss Wilcox. 'Have you known Mr Hyde long, Miss Wilcox?'

'No sir, we met at Sir Quentin's two nights ago.'

'We sang a duet, sir ... at Marlowe's father's,' Hyde added, seeing Drinkwater's puzzlement.

'Ah yes, of course, he is the gentleman in plum velvet.'

'The rather large gentlemen in plum velvet,' added Miss Wilcox mischievously, leaning forward confidentially and treating Drinkwater to a view of her ample bosom. She seemed an ideal companion for the flashy Hyde.

'Would you oblige me by introducing me, Hyde?'

'Of course, sir.'

'Miss Wilcox, it has been a pleasure. I shall detain Hyde but a moment.' Drinkwater bowed and Cassandra Wilcox curtseyed.

'Is Frey about to strangle himself in the noose of matrimony, sir?' Hyde asked as they crossed the carpet to where Sir Quentin, a large, florid man as unlike his heir as could be imagined, guffawed contentedly amid a trio of admiring ladies.

'It very much looks like it, don't it.' Drinkwater looked askance at Hyde. 'You do not approve?'

'She is his senior, I'd say,' Hyde said with a shrug, 'by a margin.'

'But a deserving soul and Frey is a man of great compassion. What about yourself and Miss Wilcox?'

'A man must have a reason for staying in town, sir, or at this season for visiting in the country ... Excuse me, ladies; Sir Quentin, may I introduce Captain Nathaniel Drinkwater?'

It was a pleasant stroll across St James's Park towards the abbey. They walked in silence for a while and then Elizabeth, casting a quick look over her shoulder at Frey and Catriona Quilhampton who lingered behind them, remarked, 'You seem to have made an impression on young Frederic Marlowe, my dear.'

Drinkwater grunted. 'What did he have to say?'

'Rather a lot. He said you saved him from a fate worse than death.'

'I'd say that was rather overstating matters. He was simply in some distress, both personally and professionally. He was concerned at the unexpected delay in our return to London ...'

'Ah,' observed Elizabeth perceptively, 'then the lady was expecting.'

'Good heavens, Bess, do you miss nothing!'

'And professionally?' Elizabeth prompted.

'Oh he had had some experience that had not passed off well. He was unsure of himself

A bit like Humpty-Dumpty? Only in this case the king's men did put him back together again?'

'Yes,' laughed Drinkwater, looking at his wife. 'Damn it, Elizabeth, but you are a lovely woman.'

The letter from Bushey was waiting for them when they arrived at the house in Lord North Street. Williams handed it to Drinkwater on a salver and, after he had struggled for a moment one-handed, Elizabeth rescued him from his embarrassment just as Catriona and Frey entered the room.

'Some tea, Williams, I think,' Elizabeth ordered as the company sat.

'How is the arm, sir?' Frey asked.

'Oh, pretty well, Not for the first time Kennedy saved me, though I suspect he rather wished I had got my just deserts.'

'Nathaniel! That's an ungrateful thing to say!' Elizabeth was profoundly shocked.

'Oh, you don't know Kennedy, m'dear.' Drinkwater flicked open the letter, read it while the company waited — all by now aware of the writer — expectantly watching Drinkwater's face.

'Well?' Elizabeth asked, as, expressionless, Drinkwater laid the letter in his lap.

'Well what?'

'What news? What does His Royal Highness write to you about? Or is it more secrets?'

'No, no.' Drinkwater took a deep breath. 'He has promised Birkbeck, who was my especial concern, a dockyard post.'

'That is good news, sir,' commented Frey approvingly.

'Yes.'

And ... ?' Elizabeth prompted and then, when Drinkwater sat silently, fisted her hands and beat them into her lap. 'Oh, Nathaniel, why do you have to be so tiresome? Either tell us, or say you cannot!'