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"As long as you have shore leave, I would be honored to
have you as a guest," St. John said hospitably. "Wherever the
Navy sends you, I'm sure it will take at least a bit of
preparation. My footman can fetch your baggage from the
inn."
He nodded, lightheaded with relief. "Thank you, my lord.
For everything."
"Out, gentlemen," Curran repeated. "Mr. Marshall, I
strongly suggest you have a moderate meal, no meat, and at
least six hours sleep. Now, Mr. St. John " He turned his
attention to Davy, and the others filed quietly out.
Giddy with joy and fatigue, Marshall followed St. John to
the guest room next door, and remembered only to remove
his shoes before collapsing on the sumptuous feather bed. He
was still not sure he was awake; it felt so like a dream that he
finally pinched himself, hard. And welcomed the merely
physical pain.
He wrapped the edge of the counterpane around him and
nestled down into the pillow. Despite all the deception, all the
danger, against all odds, Davy had survived. And soon he
himself would be off to war again, to live or die.
Well, death came eventually to everyone, and it was just
as well that no one could say when it would arrive. But for
now he allowed himself to hope that it would be later, rather
than sooner. And he found himself smiling as he drifted off to
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by Lee Rowan
sleep, at the notion of Mr. David St. John declaiming
Shakespeare in a theatre on Drury Lane.
* * * *
All the luck that had forsaken Marshall's personal life was
heaped in generous measure upon his naval career as the
Valiant continued her cruise around the Caribbean. In the
course of defending those ships she escorted, she took part in
some highly successful actions, which meant commendations
and prize money. The officers of the Valiant and Terrier
earned several years' pay in the space of a few weeks.
None of it mattered anymore. Will did his duty, moving as
though in a dream, making the correct replies when spoken
to, receiving orders in a respectful manner, passing them
along in a way appropriate to his rank and the station of the
man receiving the order.
He was no longer wholly alive. He had been, for those
three days he spent with Davy at his cousin's estate. But then
duty called him back to sea, and something within him had
ceased to live. He looked out on the world as though his eyes
were two thick windows, letting through no touch, no scent,
no breath of air. He functioned. That was all he could have
said for himself.
Will kept himself sane by focusing his entire attention upon
his duty a duty slightly reduced when Captain Smith
acquired two additional lieutenants in Kingston. One of them
had an earlier service date, so Will was now only a Second
Lieutenant. That was all right; it was a lesser demand, one he
seemed able to fulfill. He took the opportunity to move his
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dunnage into the cabin that had been Davy's, a tiny comfort.
He had long since appropriated Davy's pillow, and had nearly
broken down when he found two golden hairs caught on the
ticking. He carried them folded in a bit of parchment, next to
his heart.
It had been his own fault. He should have stuck by his
guns and refused to take part in Humberstone's charade. He
should have kept his hands off Davy not only during this
cruise, but from the start. Once they were off that damned
pirate's ship, he should have refrained from indulging in the
physical aspect of their friendship. If he loved Davy genuine
love, not just carnal desire perhaps he should end it.
But not immediately. Not until Davy was well and strong
again, and able to see that they needed to set limits to their
friendship. That would be for the best, wouldn't it? And in the
meantime, he had the chance to practice being alone. He
didn't remember it being so hard the terrible emptiness. But
he had to be alone in any case, so why not prepare for a
lifetime of it?
One thing Will found himself unable to do was sit at table
with Thomas Dowling. He had never been on good terms with
the man, but now he found ways to be elsewhere when meals
were served in the gunroom. Dr. Curran was most
sympathetic, and made certain Will ate at least once a day.
Will's odd behavior was easy enough for the old Calypsos to
understand; he was mourning. Most of his shipmates had lost
close friends at one time or another, and they knew that he
and Davy had been closer than brothers. They understood his
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grief. One time he even heard Barrow whispering to a Valiant
that it was "like as if Nelson was to lose Hardy".
At last something happened to break him out of the fog.
They were cruising near the coast of Florida, keeping an eye
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