After the ladies had retired, but before the port got going, he left the dining rooms to hunt up Lucy. He also badly needed coffee or tea. He had eaten little and had taken on a bit too much drink.
He got his coffee, dark and sweet the way he enjoyed it, drank one cup scanning the salon for Lucy, then got another cup and went out on the veranda. There she was, taking the air with some other younger girls. She left them quickly and came to him. They went around the comer for privacy, and once alone she buried her face in his shoulder and embraced him hungrily. ’Oh, Alan, I've been so miserable, and foolish… I never thought I'd have to go back to Jamaica and not see you again-’
‘I've missed you, too, Lucy, and when I was told the admiral was hauling down his flag.. ‘. ’I wrote you so many letters. Did you get them?’
‘We spoke no friendly ships the last two months," Alan explained. "Did you get mine?’
‘Oh, yes. There was always some sailor showing up with a letter saying he had just come in with news from you. I don't know how you managed it." Lucy beamed. "They were our crew that came in with a prize," he explained, finding it hard to believe that she had thought he could arrange his mail to be delivered whenever he wanted it. Maybe there's a good reason she can't spell, maybe she's feebler than most women… ’And now I shall never see you again." She pouted. ’I may sail to Kingston again, Lucy, we can still write each other, and I intend to ask your father if I may have his leave to call upon you when we put into port.’
’Oh, Alan…" She looked at him as if he had just invented gravity. "Do you love me, Alan? Do you truly love me that much? " "Aye, I do." Hold on here, do I? Yes, I must. But maybe I don't. How do you tell? I've only been in lust. She's such a beauty, and what I know of her body is enough to make anyone mad with passion. So, she may not be bright as a man. Who expects her to be… ’I love you, Alan," she said, squeezing him tight. "I have been in love with you since I first saw you, all weak and ill, when they brought you into Auntie's house. Oh, I think I shall die with happiness tonight.. ‘.
We're not going that far just yet, he thought. "Your father has to allow me to call upon you-’
‘Oh, Father cannot deny us. No one could be that cruel.
Alan, why must we wait? I had thought we would wait until the war was over, until you had become an officer, but if we feel so strongly, why do we not marry now?" Her father will never go for that. Damn, she'll blow the gaff on me with her impatience, and then goodbye security… "I cannot, Lucy… there's my duty to the Navy, my oath to the Crown. And I doubt if your father will agree after just meeting me. Perhaps we should let him get used to the idea?’
‘But, Alan, many people marry in time of war.. ‘. ’But they don't look kindly on midshipmen doing it. Lieutenants, perhaps. Right now the Navy is the only life I have, Lucy." And a right dirty one it is, too, he added to himself. "You shall have a life with me," she said, pouting in the darkness of the venmda. Somehow Alan knew she was pouting. "Once the war is over, you owe the Navy nothing. If you wish a seafaring life, my father owns many ships. Their captains take their wives on trading voyages to so many exciting places… Or we could have a fine plantation of our own, thousands of acres to ourselves.’
I have discovered the keys to heaven itself, Alan rejoiced as he held her close to him. God, to be a planter, a trader, with ships of my own and regiments of slaves. And dear Lucy to rattle every night of the week. We could go back to London in triumph. And then to hell with the Navy, with my family and anyone else! "I shall speak to your father but I beg you, Lucy, don't be hasty. Let him consider me. He has no reason to dislike me as of yet, and Sir Onsley and Lady Maude can speak for me. And at home you can bring him round. How could he refuse his lovely daughter anything she desires once he has gotten used to the idea of me as a son-in-law?" Alan cooed. ’You are such a slyboots, Alan," she said, kissing him. "I am so proud of you. So smart and clever. I love you so much. ’
‘And I love you, Lucy," he echoed… did he mean it, a little?… kissing her back. "Now, we must go back in before someone comments on us being alone together. I would not give anyone the slightest reason to doubt your honor.’
’Yes," she said, giving him one last hug. "I shall join Auntie and try to compose myself. And you will speak to Father tonight.’
’I promise.’
They kissed once more, a lingering kiss full of promised passion to come, before parting and making tiny adjusnnents to their dress. He offered her his arm and they reentered the salon just as the men began to leave the dining rooms to join the ladies for coffee.
Mr. Beauman spotted her right off and came across the room to join them, a frown on his face. Lucy evidently knew that look from many years' experience of his temper, and chattered with him briefly before hurrying to her aunt. "Missed you over the port, lad," Mr. Beauman said. "Wanted to get you alone for a while and have a chat. Veranda good for you?’
‘Aye, sir…" The older man led him back out to the veranda. Alan retrieved his half-empty cup of coffee and sipped at it. "Been gettin' letters from Lucy, from her aunt 'bout you.
Turned the lass's head good n' proper. ’
‘I have become fond of your daughter, Mister Beauman. At first I was grateful for all her concern and care when I was ill. But once I was well enough to get around and hold a real conversation with her, well.. ‘. ’An' you want to talk about somethin' more than dandn' with the lass," Beauman said. ’I would be most honored if I could come calling on her, sir, in the event that I get to Kingston.’
’The shit you say!" Beauman barked. ’Aye, sir." Lewrie winced. ’She's barely turned seventeen!’
‘I am aware of that, sir.’
’What are you, eighteen? Boy with a Cambridge fortune, just a midshipman, an' those're two-a-penny. ’
‘Your brother-in-law, Sir Onsley, must have told you I have prospects, Mister Beauman. It's true, I'm only a midshipman now, but that is now, not what I hope to accomplish. ’
‘Got lands back home? Rents 0' yer own?" Beauman carried on. "You in line to inherit? Parents substantial people?’
‘No, sir.’
’Onsley sez there's gossip ya had to join the Navy to make somethin' of yerself. That true?" Good God, I really am fucked… He nodded yes to that question, not trusting himself to speak. "Don't rightly hold that against ya, lad." Beauman smiled. "Had to come out to the Indies to make a man of meself, make my own way. Woulda gone to hell on my own back home. But, see this my way, yer a pretty fella, pretty enough to turn the girl's poor head, but yer not the solid type 0' match I'd trust to keep her proper. There's nothin' goin' to come of this. Sorry, lad. Nothin' personal.’
’I may not be ideal now, sir. But I'm not asking permission to marry tomorrow. I mean to gain my commission first, and there is the war still to be fought. Allow me to write her, and to call. If she finds someone more pleasing in the meantime, then that is Providence. I would not press any sort of suit until I felt I could meet your standards as a suitor, or doom her to a shabby life to suit my pleasure," he lied, desperately glib. ’How often you think you might get to Jamaica?’
‘Perhaps once a year, sir, at best.’
’Hmm. Tell ya what, you make somethin' of yerself. I'll allow you to write. And if you get to Jamaica, you can come callin'. But you'll not be doin' anythin' to disturb the peace 0' my family 'till say I'm satisfied with yer prospects.’
’1 give you my solemn word on that, sir.’
I know what he's thinking, Lewrie thought. Creampot love I or Lucy will grow out of. Out of sight, out of mind, while he throws his sort of bachelor up to her. He may not know it, but we're as good as engaged right now… ’Good enough," Beauman told him. "Old Onsley's right, you've got bottom, boy. My advice to ya.’
’Aye, sir?’
‘Whoever ya end up married to, never have daughters. ’
‘I'n take that to heart, Mister Beauman." Alan smiled in relief. "May I go tell Lucy the news?’
‘Aye, run along.’
The rest of the evening was a glimpse of Paradise itself, for Lucy told all her girl acquaintances, they told all the young men at the ball, and everyone assumed it was a much more formal arrangement than it really was. Older couples beamed at them foolishly and remarked on what a splendid couple they would be.
On his part Alan completely forgot about his fears conceming Captain Bevan and Sir George Sinclair. With Lucy at his side they were no more than fleabites from a traveler's bed; nothing to get exercised about. His future was assured once the war was over, and the Navy was little more than a slight aggravation to be borne until then.
Once her father and Lucy left, Alan had no more reason to stay at the ball, so he visited the kitchens for a bundle of food to sate his now-roaring appetite. The cooks and stewards remembered him from his previous stint of duty, so he left with a substantial basket of goodies and two bottles of champagne.
This he and young Carey, who had stayed behind aboard, devoured happily in the quiet darkness of their mess.
Once in bed, he was so busy thinking on his prospects that he was still awake two hours later when Avery and Forrester staggered to their hammocks, tipsy and trying to shush each other like a pair of lamebrained housebreakers trying to smash through a wall without waking the house's owner.
They dropped their shoes, dropped their chest lids, clanked their dirks trying to find spare pegs, giggled, belched, farted, thumped into each other and apologized profusely, hummed their favorite tunes, slung their hammocks and tumbled out at least once with loud crashes and began to curse everything roundly. Carey found it so entertaining that he ended up shrieking with laughter at their bungling.
And once the mess area was filled by nothing but drunken snores, Alan still lay awake, closer to contentment than he had been in two full years, listening to the ship breathe around him, and the watch bell up forward chiming the half-hour, until he too drowsed off, quite pleased with himself.
Chapter 13
Passing the word for Mister Lewrie," a Marine sentry bawled.
Alan was aloft with Toliver, one of the bosun's mates, checking over the foret' gallant mast after it had been hoisted into place to see if the standing rigging was set up properly. He scrambled down to the gangway and jogged aft to answer the summons, passing Forrester on the way. Forrester grinned evilly at him as he passed and gave him a sniff that Alan had come to know as a sign of complete satisfaction.
Damme, what does that bacon-fed thatch-gallows know that I don't? he wondered. He looked too happy for my liking. Oh God, is this when he starts getting his own back? He instantly had visions of being transferred to the flagship and being triced up to a grating for daring to enter the Navy, or for offending Sir George or Forrester. ’Calling for me?" Lewrie asked the sentry. "Cap'n wants ta see yer, sir.’
’Aye, thank you.’
There was little he could do to make himself more presentable in a stained working-rig uniform. He straightened his neckcloth, tucked in his shirt so a large tar stain would not show, and went below and aft to the passage to Treghues' cabins. ’You wished to see me, sir?" Treghues was seated in his coach, the dining space to starboard of his bed cabin. He was having his breakfast, neatly dressed, freshly shaved and surrounded by good-quality furniture and plate. His cabin servant bustled to pour him a second cup of coffee. ’You may go, Judkin.’
’Aye aye, sir:' Oh shit, I'm in the quag now, Alan thought as the servant left, closing the fragile door behind him. ’I had a most distressing conversation with Captain Bevan and Sir George about you last night, Lewrie," Treghues told him, frowning over his beef and eggs. "Is it true that you did not join the Navy willingly?’
‘Aye, sir," Alan said after a long moment. ’I had heard talk of a young lady, so I naturally thought it was a star-crossed affair. But now I am told that you were banished before a magistrate could have you up on a charge of raping your own sister." The prim Treghues hissed. ’That's… that's not strictly true, sir.’
’Either it is or it isn't. There's no such thing as half-rape, boy. Any more than anyone can be half-pregnant. Is it true?’
‘If you would let me try to explain, sir… it's not a thing that is 'yes' or '00'-" Alan equivocated. "I can only believe that some money changed hands for Bevan to have allowed you to wear the king's coat," Treghues said. "I put that down to Bevan's cupidity. Too long in the Impress Service could ruin anyone. And no doubt he must have lied to your first captain, if not offered him money to take you on… on your family's behalf.’
’Captain Bales was aware that I had been banished, sir. In my first interview he had a letter from our family solicitor, Mister Pilchard, and he didn't.. ‘. ’Who are your people, anyway?’
‘Sir Hugo Willoughby, sir.’
’The one in St. James's?" Treghues appeared to be shocked. "Aye, sir." Damme, is Father that infamous? "And you're his git? No wonder you're such a black rogue.
That's sweet. So they gave you a false name and foisted you off onto the first poor captain that was fitting out? That's a wicked sort of business." Treghues scowled. ’It was no false name, sir. Sir Hugo never married my mother, Elizabeth Lewrie. He adopted me, but never really made me one of his.’
’He and Lord Sandwich and Dashwood are all of a set. HellFire Club, balum rancum bucks without the fear of God. Sacreligious bastards. And they push you on me!’
‘Sir, I must explain-’
‘How dare you stand there fouling the uniform with your evil stink," Treghues ranted with prim, outraged passion. "Trailing your false colors and hoping to avoid the gibbet by joining the Navy-’
‘It's all a lying packet, sir," Alan said, raising his voice. "Don't you dare sass back to me. I'll have you flogged for it. I've a good mind to do that, anyway, and send you in chains to the flag.’
’How else am I to get to say my side of it, sir?’
‘What side could you possibly present, after forcing your foul self on a gentle, virginal girl, your own flesh and blood?’
‘Belinda Willoughby has the shortest heels in London, sir," Alan said loudly. "She spent two weeks luring me into her bed, and then up turns Sir Hugo, my half brother Gerald, who's known for being a windward-passage fellow, our solicitor, the vicar from our parish, and a catch-fart with a pistol. Very damned convenient, if you ask me. And no justice was ever called, no constable of the watch, no one, except for a Navy captain.’
’Don't you dare shout at me, damn you," Treghues said, rising. "You have heard what I have said, sir?" Alan asked, numb to the possibility that he was about to be lashed and dis-rated. "Does it not sound suspicious to you, sir?’
‘What motive could they possibly have had?" Treghues said, showing that at least some of it had sunk in but still on a tear at the affront to him personally, as though the inventor of original sin had just pissed liquid fire in his coffee. ’I was forced to sign a paper that pledged me to disavow any hope of inheritance from my mother's estate, sir, though they told me she had none and had died a prostitute in a parish poorhouse. There was never any talk of my mother or her family, so I have no way of knowing if her people were still alive, or if they had property.’
’Then why should they go to such lengths? Why did Sir Hugo not just disown you and throw you out into the street?’
‘I have no idea, sir. I have been thinking on it for nigh on a year and a half, and still can find no reason for such a deception. ’
‘But you were caught. Not just in her room, I'm told, but bare as you were born, in the middle of…" Evidently Treghues could not bring himself to say the word. ’Had you ever met her, sir, you would be tempted yourself. ’
‘But your own sister, the last of your line.’
’No, sir. My half sister. Belinda Willoughby, not Lewrie." Treghues sat down, flung himself into his chair and sipped at his coffee, brow creased, while Alan stood at attention, breathing hard. ’And you have been totally disowned? No allowance or any support?’
‘Mister Pilchard sends me an hundred guineas a year, sir. And they gave Captain Bevan money to buy my kit. I am to never go back to London- ’
‘Does he! That does not sound like a man so ill-disposed to his son. No, Mister Lewrie, you've spun a pretty tale, but I fear you'd make a better novelist than Fielding. Thank God, the world is changing, and all the avarice and lust of the last forty years is being swept away by a new morality. There are now God-fearing people unwilling to put up with, or condone, the openly sinful doings that characterized our society in past years.’
My God. is Treghues some kind of leaping Methodist? Alan wondered, listening to his captain rant. "I cannot help who my father was, or in what environment I was raised, sir, but since joining the Navy I have put all that behind me. Am I not a better than average midshipman, sir?’
‘I've a good mind to write Sir Onsley Matthews and inform him just what a total wastrel and Godless rake you really are," Treghues went on as though he had not heard a word. "Had I leave to do so, I would turn you out of this ship at once, at once, do you hear, Mister Lewrie?’
‘On what grounds, sir?" Alan asked, mild as possible. "Don't play the sea lawyer with me, boy. I do not want you in my command any more than the Navy should have wanted you. And at the first opportunity I shall make it my Godfearing duty to make sure that both Desperate, and the Sea Service, shall be a much cleaner place, without your foul presence. Until that time I shall want to see only the most obedient and circumspect behavior from you, or I shall make you sorry that you were ever born. Now get out of my sight.’
The King`s Coat l-1 Page 32