Free Command a King's Ship by Alexander Kent Page A

introduce me, Mr. Raymond?”
    They went aft together, and Davy whispered, “God’s teeth, Mr. Herrick, what a mixed gathering we are fast becoming!”
    Herrick glared at him. “And I suppose you have been out there damn well enjoying yourself!”
    â€œA little wine. Some fair company.” He chuckled. “But I thought, too, of you, sir. ”
    Herrick grinned. “To hell with you! Get into your working clothes and help with this loading. You need a million eyes today!”
    In the meantime Bolitho had reached his cabin, and stared at it in dismay. There were boxes everywhere, and clothing spilled across furniture and guns, as if there had been a violent robbery aboard.
    Mrs. Raymond was tall, unsmiling, and almost beside herself with anger.
    Her husband exclaimed, “You should have waited, Viola. This is our captain.”
    Bolitho bowed slightly. “Richard Bolitho, ma’am. I had just mentioned that a thirty-two-gun frigate has barely the room for luxury. However, since you have chosen to sail with us, I will do all that I can to—” He got no further.
    â€œChosen?” Her voice was husky with scorn. “Please do not de- lude yourself, Captain. He does not wish me to travel in the Nervion .” Her mouth twisted in contempt. “He fears for my safety when I am with Spanish gentlemen! ”
    Bolitho noticed Noddall hovering anxiously by the dining compartment and snapped, “Help Mrs. Raymond’s maid to stow all this”—he looked round helplessly—“gear.” He saw Raymond slump down on the bench seat like a dying man. No wonder he looked troubled. “And pass the word for the first lieutenant.” He glanced around the cabin, speaking his thoughts aloud. “We will have these twelve-pounders removed temporarily and put quakers in their place. That will allow a little more room.”
    Raymond looked up dully. “Quakers?”
    â€œWooden muzzles. They give an appearance that we are still fully armed.” He forced a smile. “Quakers having an opposition to war.”
    Herrick appeared by the door. “Sir?”
    â€œWe will rig extra screens here, Mr. Herrick. A larger sleeping compartment for our passengers. To larboard, I think.”
    Mrs. Raymond said calmly, “For me and my maid, if you please.” She looked at her husband. “He will bed elsewhere on this ship.”
    Herrick studied her curiously but said, “Mr. Raymond to star- board then. And what about you, sir?”
    Bolitho sighed. “Chart space.” He looked at the others. “We will dine together here, if you agree.”
    Nobody answered.
    Midshipman Keen hovered by the door, his eyes on the woman.
    â€œMr. Soames’s respects, sir, and the captain of Nervion is about to board us.”
    Bolitho swung round and then gasped as his shin cracked against a heavy chest.
    He said between his teeth, “I will endeavour to be hospitable, Mr. Herrick!”
    Herrick kept his face blank. “I am certain of it, sir.”
    It was early morning by the time Bolitho had pulled himself wearily into his cot, his mind still reeling from entertaining Capitan Triarte and some of his officers. He had been made to go across to the Nervion where the captain had again made a point of comparing the spacious comfort with Undine ’s over-crowded quarters. It had not helped at all. Now the ship lay quiet again, and he tried to picture Mrs. Raymond who was sleeping beyond the newly-rigged screen. He had seen her in the cabin when the Spanish officers had come aboard. Aloof yet tempting, with little to reveal her true feelings for her husband. A dangerous woman to cross, he thought.
    How still the ship felt. Perhaps, like himself, everyone was too weary to move. Guns had been trundled away and lowered with difficulty into the holds. More stores and heavy gear had had to be swayed aft to readjust the trim once again. It was surprising