Regency Debutantes (25 page)

‘Well, you mustn’t be,’ came the reply. ‘Save your worry for Mrs Howard, for I fear that if she doesn’t improve she’ll be gravely ill, or much worse, by the time we arrive back in Portsmouth.’ Georgiana stood on her toes and kissed that full firm mouth.

‘In that case we had best have Belmont examine her.’

Where her lips had lingered she now traced a delicate finger. ‘Mrs Howard will not like it,’ she argued. ‘She could scarcely endure the glance of his eye upon her.’

‘Captain’s orders,’ pronounced Nathaniel in a masterful tone. ‘It is for the lady’s own good. And we shouldn’t risk her health for the sake of her sensibilities. If you are present during the examination, I think her reputation will withstand it!’

Georgiana nodded. ‘You’re right, but she won’t like it.’ And, so saying, she dragged her tired body off to prepare Evelina Howard for the arrival of Mr Belmont.

Mrs Howard fared no better despite suffering the indignity of a physical examination under the surgeon’s hands. In her weakened state it was all she could do to force a little water down, and she knew that it would not be long before that small luxury would grow stale and slimy. Thus, she finally succumbed to Georgiana’s suggestion to try a little grog, which, surprisingly and much to her chagrin, proved to be the tonic that settled her stomach like no other. Although she was still of a nauseous disposition and kept to her cabin, the utter wretchedness of her situation eased, allowing Georgiana a little time to herself. It was therefore at the earliest opportunity that the captain’s wife sought out the company of ship’s boy Sam Wilson down in a darkened corner of the gunroom.

The boy was staring at her rather uneasily. What did the captain’s lady want with him? Scared that he had said or done something to insult her exulted person, he said nothing, waiting for her to reveal what she wanted with such a lowly being as himself.

‘Master Wilson, Sam,’ she began. ‘I wished to enquire as to your welfare. Is the food to your liking? Are the slops you wear warm enough against the increasing cold?’

Sam stared at her as if she’d grown two heads. Why did Lady Hawke care about as poor a boy as him? ‘Yes, thank you, m’lady.’ He bowed his head.

The lad was plumper than when he’d left Portsmouth, an observation that brought the hint of a smile to Georgiana’s face. ‘You must tell me if you’re unhappy, do you promise?’

‘Yes, m’lady,’ he said slowly, still puzzled. She smelled sweet like flowers in summer, and glossy black ringlets peeped from beneath her fancy bonnet. Even in the faint light filtering through from the gratings in the deck above he
could see that her skin was white and smooth. He thought it would feel soft to touch, but did not dare to even move towards her.

‘Are the others kind to you?’ she asked.

As if he could say nothing else he repeated the same words.

‘And have you not a best friend aboard the
Pallas,
one who helps you, and looks out for you?’

The little lad nodded vigorously, apparently forgetting his shy reserve. ‘Oh, yes,’ he replied. ‘I’m mate to the best sailor on this ship, able seaman Grimly, m’lady.’

She smiled at that.

‘That’s on account of George being taken poorly like. He was my friend before Jack.’

The name sounded slowly into a question. ‘George?’

‘George Robertson, m’lady. Jack said he got taken on as captain’s boy ‘cos he was the captain’s nephew. He got sick and we left him behind. He was a good friend to me.’ Sam’s voice had taken on a wistful quality.

Georgiana placed her hand stoutly on the boy’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, George will get better and come home to England. I’m sure he much prefers the sunshine of Gibraltar to the stormy skies that lie ahead.’

‘That’s what Jack said. But he didn’t look too happy about it. I heard ‘em talkin, when they didn’t know I was listenin'.’

‘And what did they say?’ A horrible suspicion was forming deep within Georgiana’s gut. She tried to keep her voice light as if Sam’s answer wasn’t so very important.

Sam wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve and leaned forward conspiratorially as he’d seen men do when they said anything of any importance that they did not want all and sundry to hear. ‘That the captain had no choice, that George would have spread the disease to us all.’

Relief swamped her and the tight coil of gathering tension sprang loose.

He sniffed again. ‘But they all said that the captain didn’t care a stink about George once he met you, m’lady. Never even called to see him, or let Mr Belmont treat him once. Right sore they are about that.’ It did not occur to young Sam that a lady might take insult at learning such a rumour regarding both her husband and herself.

Foreboding was a fine thing, especially once you’d let yourself be lulled into a false sense of comfort. ‘Thank you for telling me, Sam.’ She thought quickly. Discontentment below decks was the last thing Nathaniel needed right now. She wetted her lips and offered as best an explanation as she could think of. ‘Captain Hawke couldn’t visit George for fear of bringing the disease back to the
Pallas.
But I’ve seen with my own eyes his concern for the boy. He sent for word of his condition every day and was greatly worried about him. He didn’t want to cause panic amidst the crew, so was careful not to speak of it.’ Without thinking she pressed her arm around the boy’s thin shoulders, looking down kindly into his face. Poor little lad, he was scarcely older than Prudence and Theo. ‘And now you alone have the truth of it, Sam, and the next time you hear the men discussing the matter, you’ll be able to set them right.’

He nodded sagely, liking the feel of the lady’s soft arm around him. ‘Yes, m’lady,’ he said and saluted.

Georgiana pressed a small kiss to his forehead while he stared up at her with great round eyes. ‘Now I’d best return to my work, Master Wilson.’ And she walked away, leaving young Sam basking in the glory of her rose-scented fragrance and intrigued by the discovery that even the captain’s wife worked.

Seated within the captain’s cabin, Evelina Howard managed a small crooked smile when Georgiana relayed what she had learned from young Sam Wilson. Still pale, she was at least contriving to keep down the breakfast she had eaten. ‘It seems that ship’s boy Robertson made quite an impression with the crew. They must be an unusual lot if they show such concern over the boy.’

Captain Hawke attempted an explanation. ‘It’s not so much that they cared overly for George, rather it’s more a matter of loyalty and of fair treatment, Mrs Howard. The men are as one family when this ship is at sea. The welfare of each depends on the co-operation of all. Each man must do his job and do it well, so that we all survive. The captain is no exception to that truth. His decisions are difficult to make, sometimes requiring the sacrifice of one for the benefit of many. Life at sea is harsh, they all know that. I had thought they’d understand that a boy suffering with what looked to be yellow fever couldn’t possibly take his place aboard the
Pallas
, even if he were the captain’s nephew. To do so would be to place the entire crew at risk. Besides, Gibraltar is the best place for him as the Rock suffered a pestilence not four months since, and the hospital will know well how to treat him.’ Nathaniel looked stern, unbending.

Georgiana looked up into her husband’s face with its angular dark brows pulled low over the burnt umber of his eyes. It seemed that with each passing day she loved him more. ‘Perhaps their disgruntlement stems not so much from the fact that the boy was left behind, but more from the secretive aura that surrounded the affair. Mr Belmont was never permitted to examine him, and you never spoke with them to inform them of the situation.’

‘To reveal my suspicions that he carried yellow fever would have caused panic on this ship. Mr Belmont, as a surgeon with little training in the skills of a physician, would have been quite unable to treat the boy, and such a visit would only have served to expose him to the possible contagion.’ Captain Hawke’s hands were clasped behind his back, allowing the ladies a full frontal view of the fine white shirt, neatly tied neckcloth and white embroidered ivory waistcoat. ‘I’ll have a subtle word with Anderson, that should do the trick.’

A small laugh emitted from Mrs Howard. ‘I declare that I’ve not had so much entertainment in many a month. You two would do justice to one of Mr Shakespeare’s plays!’

Husband and wife turned to look at her, expressions of puzzlement upon their faces.

‘I merely meant that to hear you converse, one might be mistaken in feeling some element of sympathy for that poor boy left behind on Gibraltar. A boy who does not exist,’ Mrs Howard explained.

‘I feel as if he did,’ said Georgiana. ‘The friends that I made, the way that people treated me…It gave me a glimpse of a life outside my own, of a life that I could never possibly have hoped to understand. It was a valuable experience that I’ll never forget.’

The silver eyes glowed with compassion and Mrs Howard pressed a large hand to Georgiana’s. ‘I didn’t mean to distress you, my dear.’

A smile lit Georgiana’s face. ‘You must think nothing of it, ma’am, as I’m not at all distressed. I’m grateful that I’ve seen life from another’s perspective.’

‘There’s a very good reason why we must continue to refer to George in such terms. It would be too easy to forget ourselves and speak otherwise in the company of the men or the officers.
The last thing we need is for an incriminating comment to be carelessly overheard. And there’s always the risk that someone will see a resemblance between Georgiana and George. No, the sooner we reach Portsmouth the easier I’ll rest.’

Captain Hawke’s last comment left the little party feeling somewhat perturbed. The man himself strode off to communicate with his lieutenants. Mrs Howard retired to her cabin with the headache. And Georgiana suppressed the glacial feeling that someone had just walked over her grave.

It was just three days later that Georgiana had very good reason to recall the words of concern that her husband had uttered.

Surprisingly the day was dry, the absence of rain corresponding to a marked decrease in the temperature. The air fairly crackled with cold across a clear blue sky. Although the sun had not yet made an appearance the light was bright, a welcome change from the dismal murky skies that had recently plagued them. Ice had formed upon the rigging and on the casks, rendering the simplest of jobs difficult, not helped by the fact that the cold had forced the men to squeeze their callused feet into shoes that slipped so easily upon the deck. Despite donning as many items of clothing as they could, they were pained by the extreme bite in the air. Fingers and toes burned red raw, and breath caught as smoke shuddered from chilled lungs.

Given that the sea had calmed its white frothed swell a little, Georgiana and Mrs Howard decided to take some fresh air by a short walk along the quarterdeck. Evelina’s demeanour had markedly improved since taking her daily ration of grog—not that she would have admitted to drinking such a thing to any other living person. Indeed, it was only by explaining that the medicinal properties were most probably due to the lime juice rather than the water, the sugar, or, heaven forbid, the rum, that Georgiana had persuaded the lady to continue with her consumption. The cold nipped two patches of pink to her cheeks, endowing her with the most healthy appearance since the
Pallas
had left Gibraltar. As there had been insufficient time to prepare an entire wardrobe, Georgiana had few warm clothes in her possession. She was dressed, therefore, in a sturdy walking dress of a bottle green with a cashmere shawl wrapped snugly around her shoulders. The cream bonnet, with dark green ribbons, tied firmly to her head, and matching gloves offered little protection against the ferocity of the temperature, but as the ladies did not intend to dally long upon the open deck Lady Hawke was not too disconcerted by the rasping cold.

The view was spectacular, all yawning clear sky above and icy swirling water below. Gulls hovered on air currents unmindful of the chill and the sun emerged to light the pale white blue of the waves. Georgiana and Mrs Howard were just making their way back across the main deck to retreat towards their cabins when they heard the shout.

‘Man overboard!’

Georgiana’s heart set up a patter, the wintry freeze seeping from her skin through to the pit of her stomach. Images of the cold blue ocean leapt in her mind. No man could survive immersion in that. Her eyes met Mrs Howard’s horrified stare. She stopped, paused for a heartbeat, and then without having exchanged as much as a single word the two women turned and ran to where they could see a small crowd amassing. Nathaniel was there before them, his cheeks ruddy from the bite of the weather.

‘Bare the masts and lower the cutter!’ he yelled.

Beyond the polished outer rail, out amidst the silver blue
swell of water, a small figure bobbed, tiny arms flailing, the faint strains of a voice carried away by the wind.

Forward progress halted. The
Pallas
bobbed on the undulating waves as the boat was lowered to meet the bitter waters. Men had gathered, watching, praying, while Jack Grimly and Billy Todd rowed closer to where the figure had disappeared. Tension tightened, time ticked by, the deck of the
Pallas
so quiet as to hear a pin drop. Against the silence a roar went up, cheering, men slapping one another on the back. A limp figure pulled from the icy depths, hoisted back aboard.

Georgiana felt Nathaniel close behind her. His strong voice sounded quietly in her ear. ‘Go below, Georgiana. This may not be a pretty sight.’

She turned her head to where he had been, but he was gone, striding across the deck to meet Jack Grimly and his sodden parcel.

Georgiana’s insides turned to ice, her husband’s warning forgotten in an instant. Nausea quickened in her gut, for across the distance she could clearly see the small thin body, the sandy hair flat and dark with water, and the white pinched features.

‘Sam!’ The name erupted loud and distraught from her lips, but she had no notion that she had spoken, running as she was to close the space between them.