Free Soldier of Fortune by Edward Marston

tenderness shown on
both sides. There was little tenderness now. The Duchess was as striking as
ever, wearing a cloak, hat and gloves to keep out the persistent breeze that
came in off the sea. It was her manner that surprised Daniel. She seemed cold
and distant. Though she permitted a farewell kiss, it was more of a token than
a sign of affection. At the very moment that her husband was about to walk
away, she took a letter from beneath her cloak and slipped it into his hand.
    Daniel
was perplexed. Whenever he had seen her before, Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough,
had always been an imperious figure, a woman of grace, poise and real
substance. Even in middle age, she had an extraordinary vitality. She was too
loyal to let her husband down by not seeing him off but
    Daniel
sensed that she was only there for the sake of appearance. He was reminded of
his visit to Holywell when he had found Marlborough and Godolphin dining alone.
Daniel knew for a fact that the Duchess was in the house. Why had she not
joined the two men at dinner? Was there some kind of breach between husband and
wife?
    It
was unsettling. Daniel had lost count of the number of times he had been alone
with Marlborough and listened to him talking fondly of his wife. Having the
firm foundation of a happy marriage meant so much to the Duke. It deprived him
of any anxieties about his family while he was campaigning in Europe. That was
important. The last thing that the Grand Alliance needed was a captain-general
whose mind was distracted by marital problems. Daniel had fought alongside
officers who were haunted by difficulties back home and unable to concentrate
fully. A soldier with preoccupations could be a severe handicap to his
comrades.
    Marlborough
was escorted on to the Peregrine by his private secretary, Adam
Cardonnel. The captain was ready to welcome them aboard. When greetings had
been exchanged, Marlborough stood at the bulwark so that he could wave to his
wife as the vessel set sail. Daniel was close enough to get a good view of him.
Whatever tensions there might be between Duke and Duchess, they did not
register on Marlborough's face. He looked as calm and confident as he usually
did. Now in his early fifties - an age when many commanders had retired - he
carried his years well and had the sprightliness of a veteran soldier eager to
return to the battlefield.
    To
Daniel's perceptive eye, the Duchess's performance was less convincing. She
stood bravely on the quay, raising a hand when the ship pulled away and waving
gently to her husband.
    Other
wives who had come to watch their soldier-husbands leave were already dabbing
at their eyes with handkerchiefs or blowing kisses at the departing vessel. The
Duchess was apparently unmoved, fulfilling a duty rather than parting from a
loved one who was off to a war that was fraught with danger. Marlborough waved
with far more purpose. Significantly, it was his wife who turned away before he
did.
    When
he finally stepped away from the bulwark, he caught sight of Daniel and
beckoned him over. 'It's too breezy to stay on deck,' he said. 'I'll go below.
Give me ten minutes to settle in then join me in my cabin, if you will.'
    'Yes,
Your Grace,' said Daniel.
    'It
feels so good to be back in harness again.'
    'I
agree.'
    'We'll
give King Louis a real shock this time.'
    Marlborough
patted him on the shoulder then went off along the deck. The crew were still
unfurling the sails, each new spread of canvas catching the wind and increasing
their speed. The Peregrine was a tidy vessel. Her mast was
tall for a ship with a relatively shallow draught. She had a lengthy jib- boom,
formed of two spars fished together and able to be hinged up when not in use.
The rig was fore-and-aft with a square topsail and a topgallant fitted to the
mainmast.
    Glad
that they were under way at last, Daniel was nevertheless leaving with some
regret. Before he could reflect upon the competing loveliness of Abigail and
Dorothy Piper, however, someone