‘Yes, sir,’ she lied in her deepest mumbling voice. ‘Bade me not be out too long, sir.’ She prayed that Nathaniel’s business on the lower deck would keep him occupied for some time.
The sentry did not appear entirely convinced, but before he could question her further Georgiana had disappeared in a swift flurry of steps. She made for the uppermost deck, keeping to the shadows, avoiding those of the watch. Silver moonlight glistened over the water, lighting its gentle undulation. All was quiet save for the tranquil lap of waves against the hull. Water slapping softly on wood. And best of all was the subtle night breeze, fresh and clear. It nipped at her cheeks, chased the foggy clouds from her head and soothed the worry from her shoulders. She drank in the sight of the beautiful nocturnal seascape, tasted salt upon her lips, felt the wind rake her skin, smelled what had become a welcome and familiar scent. Carefully and methodically she impressed the scene upon her memory. If I lose all else, I’ll remember what’s before me for the rest of my life. For it is of such captivating clarity as to remind me how fortunate I am to live to witness it. The thought lingered even as she made her way back down to the cabin. For although the freshness of the air had cleared the stuffy confusion from her head, it had brought with it the realisation that she was jeopardising Nathaniel’s plans. And that was something she did not want to risk.
The days passed quickly and the comfortable companionship between Captain Hawke and his erstwhile ship’s boy grew, but it was not long before Nathaniel eventually brought the Pallas, the Ville-de-Milan and the Coruna to dock within the harbour at the great Rock of Gibraltar.
Four boats rowed ashore from the frigate. The launch and two cutters carried the French seamen, as well as the bosun, his assistant and several marines. The crew left imprisoned upon the French frigates would be transported in their own vessels. Captain Hawke and his landing party travelled in the pinnace and consisted of Lieutenant Anderson, four marines, two midshipmen, the surgeon, the purser, both French captains and, of course, Captain Hawke’s ailing servant George Robertson.
‘You look a little better, Master Robertson. Do you feel somewhat recovered?’ Lieutenant Anderson enquired as the pinnace was rowed towards the shore.
Georgiana tugged nervously at her ear. ‘Yes, sir, much better, thank you, sir.’ Then, following a rather black look from Nathaniel, hastily amended the report upon her health. ‘That is, except for the headache, sir.’ She averted her eyes to the shoreline.
Mr Belmont leaned forward, his perceptive surgeon’s eye peering at her face before turning to address the captain. ‘Captain Hawke, I don’t profess to be a physician, but I have some little knowledge that may help the boy’s condition. Perhaps, if I could examine him when we return to the ship? I know that you did not previously deem it necessary, but the sickness has persisted for quite some time.’
Nathaniel nodded briefly as if the subject was of little consequence. ‘Of course, Mr Belmont, do as you see fit. Mr Tufton, use the launch to transport the provisions back to the Pallas; my business ashore will take some time and I’ll return with the pinnace later.’
‘Aye, sir,’ replied the purser.
Rear Admiral Tyler was only too happy to welcome Captain Hawke and his party to the station on Gibraltar—his joviality perhaps due, in part, to his profound love of receiving captured vessels. With the necessary documents completed, Admiral Tyler was keen to invite Nathaniel and his officers to a celebratory dinner the following evening.
The main town, or city as it was termed on the Rock, was bright and busy. Despite the advancement of the year, the sun was shining and the temperatures mild. In the background loomed the dominating huge stark purple grey of the rocky terrain. Within the city matters were less severe. Both men and women in colourful clothing called from behind their street stalls set out in the commodious market place. Small flat-roofed houses crowded from the sea wall up the steep elevation towards the Rock, their walls whitewashed and clean, splashed with the vibrant reds and pinks of the strong-smelling flowers that clambered upon them. Mules, laden with large cylindrical bags, trotted in small troops to and from the harbour, competing with the rumble of the wooden carts. Colonel Drinkwater’s fine library stood proud in its newly completed building, proclaiming the cultured interests of the Gibraltarians. In the distance, at the northern extremity of the hillside, were the ruins of a Moorish castle. In the centre of the city was Commercial Square, across which more pedlars displayed their wares. But the most astounding sight that met the officers of the Pallas was two small Barbary apes lounging at the edge of the city, nibbling on a large pile of bread and fruit. Mr Belmont and Lieutenant Anderson were quite taken with the creatures, so much so that they set to sketching the scene before them. Thus it was that Nathaniel found himself able to slip discreetly away, accompanied only by his ship’s boy.
Through the narrow back streets they wove, following the directions that the man had relayed to Nathaniel. Georgiana grinned as she thought of the wary suspicion on the fellow’s face. But then it wasn’t every day that he was accosted by a captain of His Majesty’s Navy asking where he might find a lady’s dressmaker.
‘Keep up, George, we haven’t got all day.’ Nathaniel reached an arm round to catch the rather out-of-breath ship’s boy straggling behind.
She had been taking too much of an interest in her surroundings. ‘My legs aren’t as long as yours,’ she grumbled.
‘And my eyes aren’t so big as yours,’ came the droll reply.
She had just rallied a spurt of energy to keep up with the tall figure along Waterport Street when he turned down an alleyway and came to an abrupt halt. Georgiana panted mercifully at the rear.
‘Here we are, Master Robertson. Let’s just hope that Mrs Howard is prepared to help us.’
Mrs Evelina Howard was a lady of large proportions with kind grey eyes and the most artfully coiffured grey hair. Originally from Brighton, she had arrived on the Rock some ten years ago, as the wife of an elderly naval officer. Since being widowed, she had established a small dressmaking service to cater to the ladies of Gibraltar, a business that had proved lucrative in the extreme. If the sudden appearance of a tall dark-haired naval officer with a boy by his side startled Mrs Howard, she was too polite to show it. She observed the golden epaulettes on both his shoulders, the gold-edged lapels and collar, and the embroidery upon the cuffs and pocket flaps of the smart dark dress coat.
‘Good day, Captain. How may I help you?’ She eyed him serenely, wondering as to the woman who had obviously prompted his visit to her establishment. Wife or mistress? Mrs Howard speculated that the man before her would never lack for the attention of female admirers.
Nathaniel bowed. ‘Captain Nathaniel Hawke, of His Majesty’s Navy, at your service, ma’am.’
The grey head inclined graciously.
‘Mrs Howard,’ he began, ‘it’s on a matter of some delicacy that I seek your help. A matter that demands the utmost discretion and for which, if you are prepared to assist, I will recompense you most generously.’
Mrs Howard felt a quiver of curiosity. ‘You intrigue me, Captain Hawke. Are you asking me to undertake something illegal, immoral, or both?’ Everything about her bespoke a calm still.
‘Neither, madam. My request is, however, unusual and, were it to become widely known, would prove injurious to the lady concerned. It is somewhat urgent.’ He had not moved and yet the sheer height and power of his frame dominated the surroundings.
She walked to the door and turned the key within the lock. ‘Then you had better tell me, Captain, with all speed.’ Rustling back across the room, she faced him and waited composedly for the story to unfold.
For just a moment, one single moment, Evelina Howard’s usual aplomb deserted her as she stared slack-jawed at the boy. The serene grey eyes flicked back to Captain Hawke questioningly.
‘Miss Raithwaite is both a lady and my betrothed,’ he said firmly, irrefutably.
Mrs Howard smoothed her hands over her skirts. ‘Of course.’ And,
when she looked up, there was nothing upon her countenance to betray the shock. ‘Then you had best be about your business, sir, and leave the lady to me.’ She did not miss the fleeting touch of his hand to the boy’s, or the concerned reassurance he muttered in his ear before he departed.
‘So, Miss Raithwaite, I think we had better begin with a bath.’
‘But that’s not—’
The older woman’s voice interrupted. ‘You smell of ships and the sea. Perhaps not the most desirable of fragrances for a young lady. Blunt words, but pray do not take them unkindly. We’ve much to do if we’re to fulfil Captain Hawke’s requirements.’
And so the day progressed and did not end until Georgiana had been scrubbed, rinsed, perfumed, poked and pinned into an endless variety of costumes. The transformation had now entered its final stages.
‘It would be indelicate of me to enquire as to how you came to be in your present circumstance, miss, and therefore I won’t. But I couldn’t live comfortably with my conscience if I didn’t offer you my help to escape a situation that may not be of your making.’ The capable fingers coaxed ebony curls to frame Georgiana’s face.
Georgiana looked up into the kind eyes that held hers in the mirror. ‘Thank you, ma’am, for your concern. I fear that my appearance had misled you, for my fate is entirely of my own making.’ She looked away, blinking, unable to say what would follow next. As, I’m most ashamed to admit, is Captain Hawke’s.
‘Entirely of your own making?’ queried Evelina. ‘In my experience, no lady’s fate ever is. Women have so little say in the shaping of their lives, bound as they are by the constraints of their fathers and husbands.’ When the girl did not reply, the modiste continued, ‘When is the wedding?’
A blush spread across Georgiana’s complexion. ‘I’m not sure of the precise date.’
Mrs Howard regarded her with a knowing look, but said nothing.
‘It’s not what you think,’ she protested. ‘Captain Hawke has not ruined me!’
The pale eyebrows raised a notch and lowered demurely. ‘Then it’s a love match?’
‘Yes…no…I cannot…’
‘Do you love him?’ Evelina asked quietly.
Georgiana’s head drooped. ‘Yes.’
‘But you fear he doesn’t love you?’
The ebony curls shook beneath her fingers. ‘No. I know he doesn’t.’
Mrs Howard moved round to take the girl’s hands. ‘From what I’ve seen, Miss Raithwaite, I believe you’re very much mistaken. Captain Hawke most definitely had the look of a man in love.’
Georgiana sighed. ‘Dear Mrs Howard, I know you’re trying to help me, but you wouldn’t if you knew what I’d done.’
The matronly lady patted the small hands within hers. ‘Surely it cannot be so very bad?’
‘Oh, but, ma’am, I very much fear that it is.’ Georgiana said solemnly.
‘Do you wish to tell me about it?’
Stormy blue eyes met peaceful grey. ‘Yes, I believe I do.’
The sun had dropped low in the sky when Nathaniel Hawke returned to the modiste’s establishment to collect Georgiana. He soon found himself ushered through to a small parlour.
‘Captain Hawke.’
‘Your servant, Mrs Howard.’ Nathaniel bowed, his eyes scanning the room for a sign of Georgiana.
The plump pleasant face smiled. ‘You are no doubt keen to make the acquaintance of Miss Raithwaite once more.’
‘Yes, indeed.’ Nathaniel tried to quell his rising impatience.
Mrs Howard sat down on a pink scalloped chair and fussed with making herself comfortable before facing her visitor once more. ‘Forgive me, Captain Hawke. Won’t you take a seat?’
Nathaniel did as she directed.
‘Do you plan to stay long in our little town, sir?’
‘No, no more than a se’nnight.’
The cool grey eyes watched him.
‘We return to England, having fulfilled our duty, ma’am.’ He glanced towards the closed door and back at Mrs Howard.
‘Something at which I understand you’re quite adept, Captain.’
Nathaniel’s gaze swung to hers. The skin prickled at the nape of his neck. ‘As is any naval officer, ma’am.’
Silence.
Evelina Howard spoke quietly. ‘No, Captain Hawke, I don’t believe that every officer would have acted as you have done.’
His heart set up a gallop, a tiny muscle flickered in his cheek. ‘Please be direct, madam. Of what do you speak?’ Precisely what had Georgiana told the woman, and where was his betrothed? His fingers resisted the urge to drum on the arm of the chair.
‘Why, of Miss Raithwaite, of course.’ She smiled at the frown descending upon his brow. ‘You were quite right in what you told me, sir. Miss Raithwaite is a lady…a young and naïve lady.’ She waited for the captain’s response.
His eyes darkened. ‘She is also the lady promised to be my wife before we leave this place.’ He paused. ‘You’ll be well paid for your silence, Mrs Howard. Don’t seek to destroy her reputation by a careless word.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘Where is Miss Raithwaite? She should be ready to join me by this hour.’
Satisfied by his response, Evelina raised herself and walked to the doorway. ‘Miss Raithwaite!’ Her voice raised just enough to carry upstairs. She turned to face Nathaniel once more. ‘I thought it prudent to allow the servants the day off. They do so love to gossip, and we wouldn’t want today’s events to be discussed around the Rock.’
Any response Nathaniel might have uttered was forgotten as he gaped at the figure moving into the room. Dear God, he’d forgotten just what she looked like as a woman. Leaping to his feet he stepped towards her, noting the pink tinge in her cheeks and the embarrassed little smile playing upon those voluptuous lips. ‘Georgiana!’
Mrs Howard watched as Captain Hawke stared at the young woman who stood rather self-consciously before them. The girl’s face illuminated with a radiant smile as she moved to throw herself into the captain’s arms.
‘Hmph…hmm!’ Mrs Howard developed a sudden irritation in her throat, respectfully reminding the love-struck couple that they were not alone.
‘Oh!’ Georgiana remembered herself just in time, skidded to a halt on Mrs Howard’s best rug and managed to stutter, ‘Captain Hawke!’
‘Miss Raithwaite!’ gasped the erstwhile supremely confident captain. He looked, thought Mrs Howard, a little shaken.
They stared at one another, a palpable flow of attraction between them.
Evelina Howard’s mouth curved into a smug smile. She clearly had not been mistaken in her first appraisal of Captain Hawke’s feelings for the girl. Why, he was looking at her with such tenderness it would have moved Mrs Howard to tears, if she had been of such a silly disposition. One small dry cough echoed in the room. ‘So, Captain Hawke, do you find Miss Raithwaite’s appearance satisfactory?’
Nathaniel recovered himself, dragged his eyes from the vision of loveliness before him and addressed the dressmaker. ‘Indeed, Mrs Howard, it’s much more than satisfactory. Let’s discuss payment before Miss Raithwaite and I leave.’ He removed a purse from his pocket.
Mrs Howard gestured Georgiana to be seated. ‘Where do you intend to stay this evening?’ A closed expression had descended upon her face.
‘Miss Raithwaite will be safely lodged at an inn.’
Her eyebrows raised. ‘Alone and unchaperoned?’
An uneasiness stole over Nathaniel. ‘Yes,’ he replied harshly. ‘We have little choice.’
‘That, Captain Hawke, is where you’re mistaken. May I be so bold as to make a suggestion that could prove mutually beneficial to us all?’
Thus it was, having discussed the matter in detail, that Nathaniel returned to the Pallas without his ship’s boy George Robertson. Tomorrow would see the introduction of his betrothed, Miss Georgiana Raithwaite, to Gibraltarian naval society, and all under the chaperonage of the highly respectable Mrs Howard.
The next evening when
Nathaniel called upon Mrs Howard’s establishment, it was to discover two immaculately attired ladies patiently awaiting him in the parlour. Georgiana’s skin glowed with an opalescent sheen beneath the pale aquamarine of her shot-silk gown. The satin ribbon sash around the high waist served only to draw attention to the gentle curve of her bosom above. The neckline was plain with a low, but not indecent, décolletage. Matching long gloves and a finely worked shawl completed the ensemble. Small curls of dark glossy hair kissed the edges of her face and a beaded bandeau triumphed as her crowning glory.
His eyes swept over her as if seeing her for the first time, feasting upon each detail.
‘Miss Raithwaite, you take my breath away,’ he said at last, before turning politely to Mrs Howard to compliment her own silver-grey outfit.
Elation glowed in those calm grey eyes. ‘I do not think that we have to fear that your officers will recognise George Robertson,’ she said.
‘No, indeed, Mrs Howard, you’ve worked a miracle,’ conceded Nathaniel.
Georgiana smiled up at the tall dark captain smartly clothed in his full dress uniform. In truth, she thought she had never seen him look so devilishly dashing, and longed to press a kiss to the stark line of his jaw. ‘Mrs Howard has been a wonder. Even I was surprised when I looked in the mirror.’
‘We had best leave, for it wouldn’t do to be late for Admiral Tyler’s party. I have taken the liberty of hiring a carriage to transport us the short distance to the admiral’s house.’ Nathaniel gestured towards the door. ‘Ladies.’
Admiral Tyler was a jovial bluff sort of fellow, who had grown rather rotund with the comfortable ease of life in Gibraltar. His wife, a little pudding of a woman, buzzed around him like an industrious bee. The old admiral’s eyes lit up on sighting the young lady following in Captain Hawke’s wake.
‘Sir, may I present my betrothed, Miss Raithwaite, and of course her chaperon, Mrs Howard, with whom, I’m sure, you’re already acquainted.’
Before her husband could reply, Lady Tyler ejected a nervous titter. ‘But of course, dear Mrs Howard, quite the best modiste on the Rock. I do so rave about her designs. Always such a pleasure to meet with you.’ She lavished a huge smile on Evelina and turned her attentions to the young woman at her side. ‘Miss Raithwaite, what a positive delight.’
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