Later on that summer, once Tsar Alexander had taken the throne, peace and free commerce was returned to the Baltic and all of those British merchant ships and their crews had been freed, Capt. Thomas Fremantle of HMS Ganges, one of Nelson’s old stalwarts and a fellow whom Lewrie knew from 1796 in the Mediterranean (buy A King’s Commander—please!) made an official visit to St. Petersburg and the Russian Court. He wrote his wife, Betsy, that at several official soirées he was introduced to many of the conspirators, who were as gay as so many mag-pies, none suffering any recriminations, and prospering nicely!
This may be bad news for Lewrie, if Count Rybakov, and Count Anatoli Levotchkin, were part of the home-grown conspiracy, and had finagled HM Government and the Foreign Office to find a swift way home in time to participate, and benefit from the deed.
Though it’s long odds that he and that arrogant, murderous lad, Anatoli Levotchkin, will cross hawses, there are some who keep grudges a whole lot better than most, and one can never tell. . . . Russia, after Napoleon Bonaparte’s invasion in 1812, will become a British ally once again, and should Alan Lewrie ever have to go back to the Baltic . . . !
So, here’s Capt. Alan Lewrie, RN, once more secure in command of a hellish-fine frigate. Sooner or later, though, he’ll have to return to England . . . and Caroline. What was it she wrote in that letter he dreaded to open? Had Twigg’s visit, and explanations, mollified her to yet another wary reconciliation?
Come to think on’t, what was it that Eudoxia Durschenko wrote him? Has she become one more of “Florizel’s”—the Prince of Wales’s—passing fancies? Or did she rebuff his advances and precious gifts? More to the point, did her papa, Arslan Artimovich, take umbrage and a hopeful dagger-slash at the idiot?
And what of the delectable Tess? Has she become the mistress of Peter Rushton, Viscount Draywick, or does she pine for Lewrie? And, with his new fame, glory, and the possibility of “Respectable” renewed congress with his wife, would Alan Lewrie be so huge a fool as to . . . ?
Hmmm . . . faithful readers by now should have a clue as to what idiocy Alan Lewrie can get up to, if ever allowed idleness ashore. I promise that all shall be unveiled soon, in King, Ship, and Sword.
The Baltic Gambit Page 41