Seaflower (42 page)

Cecilia's
eyes flashed a warning as she drew herself up. 'That is kind in you, Mr, er,
Kydd.'

'This
way, Miss,' Kydd mumbled, holding his hat awkwardly, and led the way to the
broad midships. 'Cecilia—'

'Thomas,
please!' Cecilia hissed. 'I cannot acknowledge you as kin, you must understand
that. It were best that we stay at a distance, if you please.' She looked
around warily. 'It is not often Fortune smiles on such as we, and I will not
allow this opportunity to slip through my fingers.' Kydd smiled bleakly, while
Cecilia continued, 'And, besides, you've no need for concern on my behalf. I
rather like Lady Stanhope, she's kind and good.' She looked at him with a touch
of defiance but more a plea for understanding.

Kydd
straightened with a grin. 'Then, Miss Cecilia, we'd better be about y'r
master's business.'

His
sister was gratifyingly practical. It was urgent that Lord Stanhope reach
Barbados as soon as possible to take ship for England on a matter of some high
diplomacy, the details of which would be disclosed, no doubt, to Captain Kernon
on his return. There was no expectation of special treatment — it was known
that Seaflower was a small, but fast, vessel, best suited for the purpose, and
Cecilia had personally seen that their baggage would not exceed four sea-chests
in all. They themselves would board only when Seaflower was ready.

The
wherry with the chests arrived at that instant, and Kydd tasked off three
seamen to rig a tackle and sway them aboard. Kernon returned in some degree of
distraction, giving immediate orders that his day cabin and bedplace be turned
over to his noble passengers, arrangements for others to be put in train in
due course.

Seaflower
had to be stored for the passage and her extra passengers, and Kydd was hard
put to plan the stowage and as well take in private stores required en voyage. A
polite message came off from the shore enquiring whether four p.m. would be a
convenient time to board. Cecilia's approval of the cabins and Kydd's report on
stowage allowed Kernon to send a civil reply.

'A
great honour, my lord,' Kernon said, very politely. Lord Frederick Stanhope was
a thin man with oddly black eyebrows against his snow-white hair,*and a slight
stoop. His eyes were penetrating.

'Thank
you, Captain, for accommodating us at such a notice,' Stanhope replied. His
voice was soft but clear. His wife looked every inch the grand lady, and Kernon
visibly shrank at the duty of greeting her.

'Sir,
I will show you to your cabins,' he said, with a bow, but Lady Stanhope cut him
off with a flourish of her gloved hand.

'Nonsense.
I'm sure Cecilia knows the boat by now, you have much more important work to
do. Tempus fugit, Captain?'

Cecilia
moved up silently on cue. Kernon took the hint, and without delay the
boatswain's mate was pealing his call, 'Haaands to unmoor ship!' Seaflower readied
herself for sea. Kydd took position at the conn and heard a last interchange as
Cecilia helped Lady Charlotte down the near-vertical ladder below. 'Young lady,
I was travelling in boats before you were born — do not fret so!'

Seaflower
weighed in late afternoon and, breasting the tide, slipped along the colourful
Palisades to the untidy clutter of buildings at the tip, Port Royal and Fort
Charles, then gybed for the passage south.

'If'n
ye pleases,' the boatswain rumbled, indicating to the interested party emerging
on deck that they were to occupy the more spacious midships area. Kydd had used
some forethought: a grinning Doud stood by to warn the noble group should the
mainsail boom decide to traverse the deck in an untimely fashion.

They
emerged into the open sea past reefs and islets, which Jarman took delight in
pointing out — Gun Cay, Salt Pond Reef, Drunken Man's Cay, Turtle Heads; all
well known hazards to Kydd, who remained alongside the helmsman with a sharp
eye. His gaze strayed occasionally to Cecilia, who stood at ease with Lady
Stanhope clearly enjoying the experience. Seaflower lifted gently to the
broader swells of the Caribbean when Kydd was free to hand over the conn, but
it was passing strange to see his sister in such a context.

Jamaica
became an anonymous patchwork of green and brown, and Kernon approached
Stanhope. 'We strike south first, m' lord. In the central Caribbean we shall
not be annoyed by corsairs or privateers. We then alter to th' east, and should
make landfall in Barbados in no more than three or four days, for agreeable to
your request I shall bend on all sail for a fast passage.'

"Thank
you, Captain,' Stanhope answered courteously. 'Now, my wife is wondering would
it be convenient if perhaps we supped on deck rather than in the cabin—not that
our accommodation is in the least objectionable,' he added hastily.

'Of
course, sir,' said Kernon, with a wrinkled forehead. This was not an easy
thing to achieve in a lively cutter. 'However, might I take this opportunity to
present Petty Officer Renzi, whom I have detailed as your personal aide, and
Master Luke who will be your servant'

Renzi
stepped forward; the elegance of his small bow incongruous in his plain
sea-faded seaman's gear. He did not look at Cecilia. 'My lord,' he said
quietly.

Lady
Stanhope smiled, then glanced at her husband, who had a preoccupied
expression. 'What is it, Frederick?' she asked curiously.

Stanhope's
face cleared. 'Nothing, m' dear,' he said lightly.

Under
the interested gaze of the watch on deck a table was brought up from the
master's cabin to be lashed into place next to the main gratings and both
cabins were deprived of chairs so supper could then be spread.

'Could
I suggest the veal and ham pie and cold tongue, m' lady?' Cecilia said,
standing by, eyeing Luke's efforts with the cloth and cudery doubtfully. 'And
the orange custard will not keep, of course.'

'Charlotte?'
Lord Stanhope extended an arm to his wife, and politely helped her to her
place, which in keeping with other sea-service furniture was compact and neat.

'Oh,
Mr Renzi, would you be so good as to open a hock for Lord Stanhope?' said
Cecilia, looking at him through her eyelashes.

Lady
Charlotte watched the evening sea hiss past from her chair and sighed. 'How
wonderful, Frederick, just we two again.' She turned to Cecilia and smiled
sweetly. 'My dear Cecilia, on this small boat we simply cannot stand on
ceremony - be so good as to join us at supper.'

Blushing,
Cecilia took her seat to the side and glared secretly at the grinning Luke.

'A
glass with you, my dear,' said Stanhope. She accepted graciously, careful not
to look at the waiting Renzi, standing silently in the shadows abreast the fore
windlass.

Lady
Stanhope leaned forward, her face alive. 'Don't look now, dear girl, but I do
believe that you've made a conquest of that handsome sailor at the back of the
boat.' Unable to resist, Cecilia snatched a glance — and saw Kydd looking at
her along the length of the deck from the helm.

'I
- I shall beware, milady,' she stammered.

They
made good time, and before noon the next day had shaped course eastwards to
Barbados, the trade winds coming comfortably from the beam.

Jarman
came on deck with a serious expression. 'Sir, th' glass is dropping - one-eighth
inch since Port Royal, an' still going.'

Kernon
considered, his brow furrowing. 'The reading now?'

'Twenty-nine
an' three-fourths. I'm not happy, sir.'

'But
is this not your usual for these waters?' Kernon seemed unwilling to face the
implication. 'Lord Stanhope will not look kindly on any delay, Mr Jarman.'

'Sir.'

But
Kernon's face was troubled as he returned to his guests. Lady Charlotte and
Cecilia thrilled at their leaping passage. They were standing right in the bows
gripping a stay, mesmerised by the rush of glittering sea. Lord Stanhope, near
the helm, remained preoccupied.

'Should
the weather turn out for the worse, we may have to delay, m' lord,' Kernon
said, hesitating.

Stanhope
turned, but did not speak.

'That
is, we face a blow of sorts across our path, which could be .. .'

'You
will make the right decision, of course, Captain — bearing in mind the urgency
of my mission, which I now feel obliged to point out is of the utmost moment
for the safety of England.' As if to underline the point, he drew out his fine
watch and consulted it.

'I
understand, my lord.' Kernon's grey features set in worry, and he trudged off
along the deck.

Within
the hour the horizon across their path subtly changed in character. To the low
band of silver and dark grey of the familiar rain curtains there was now added
a trace of menace - a tingeing of the clouds with tiny, subliminal amounts of
copper verdigris. Kydd had seen this before, and reacted at a primal level.

'Sir!
We must return t' Port Royal!' Jarman's forceful plea beat at Kernon's resolve
while Seaflower plunged on gaily with her sails flat, the taut rigging harping
musically. 'We must put about now, sir!'

Anxious
looks were now being directed aft by seamen who knew of the animal savagery of
sea scourged by giant winds. Kydd stole a look at the helmsman, and was
comforted by his stolid performing of duty.

'We
put back to Port Royal,' Kemon announced. It was a measure of his worry that he
omitted first to consult Stanhope. 'Ease sheets, and we take in the topsail —
bear off t' leeward and set course, um, nor' nor' west.' He seemed easier,
having made a decision.

Seaflower's
speed fell off and the ladies looked aft curiously. 'If you please, ladies,'
Kernon called. He explained to the group what had to be done. Lord Stanhope
frowned but said nothing, and Cecilia darted a quick look at her brother.

Kydd
spoke quietly to Jarman: 'In Trajan we could never outrun a revolvin' storm. We
worked out its position, an' then it was tear away in the safest direction f'r
us.'

Jarman
nodded. 'Aye, but in such a cockleshell we needs to go further. These tropic
storms are monsters an' go at such a gallopin' pace — it's not only th' centre
we needs to worry about, it's where they're headed. We plots the centre every
hour, an' works out a path where it's going, an' hope t' God to outwit the
infernal beast.'

The
ugly skies loomed frighteningly quickly. The ladies stopped their marvelling
and stared soberly at the massing hideousness astern. Fear struck at the sight
of what nature was bringing out from its sack of terrors.

On
deck seamen secured as best they could. The cutter was dead before the wind and
slashed ahead at an insane rate, like a hunted animal trying to flee a
carnivore. But the bearing shifted, slowly but surely, about the starboard
quarter. A rain-spot spattered the folded chart that Jarman had brought from
below. The tiny dots inside circles were their plot of the path of the storm
marching across from the east - and curving north. "This is th' worst f'r
us,' Jarman murmured. His face had a strange, detached calm that struck a shaft
of icy fear through Kydd. "That devil will go between us an' Port Royal.
There's no returning there now.'

They
struck south, every sail drawing, then south-west into the vague direction of
the reef-strewn interior of the western Caribbean, anything to keep from the
path of the rampaging monster. By the dog-watches the vast dark roiling masses
of cloud had reached overhead and the wind had turned edgy and fitful.

A
presentiment forced itself on Kydd's mind, born of his sea knowledge, his
increasing empathy with the deep. This was going to be the time when it would
claim its price for that understanding, a hard price that he knew might be his
life — and then he thought of Cecilia, and felt a hot misery.

'Sir,
if you could go below it would ease our worries at this time,' Kernon said,
distracted. Lord Stanhope looked about to demur, but Lady Stanhope took him by
the arm. 'We are together, Frederick, never forget that. We will see this
through with each other, my love.' She kissed him. 'Come! You shall read to me.
Captain, any news . . .'

'Of
course, my lady.'

They
turned away, arm in arm. Cecilia paused for a moment, looking into Kydd's eyes.
He felt helpless in the face of emotions that women seemed to meet with such
nobility. Her eyes dropped and she went to him, clinging soundlessly for a long
time. 'Tell me ... when ...' she said, in a muffled voice. The lump in his
throat prevented Kydd answering, but he squeezed her hard. The cutter lurched
under a spiteful gust.