Caribbee by Julian Stockwin Read Free Book Online

smartly dressed seamen waited expectantly at the ship’s side, for ladies visiting
L’Aurore
would not be expected to scramble up: an ornamented boatswain’s chair was waiting to sway them aboard.
    ‘We have a “regret unable” from the governor but the admiral and his lady will be attending,’ Renzi murmured, ‘for a short time only, he pleading advancing age. The garrison commander and wife accept with pleasure – I’ve allowed him two officers of local birth, and it would be churlish to refuse the colonel of the West Indian Regiment, they so ardent in their loyalty. As to our naval friends, I found it necessary to set the bar at post-captain and that from only the larger sail-of-the-line. In all a very creditable response, I think you’ll agree.’
    ‘Well done, Nicholas. Were there, as who should say, hearts repining for want of an invitation?’
    ‘None,’ Renzi said smoothly. ‘Not when they learned that a second ball is projected, especially for officers of the middling sort and thereby promising to be of a livelier character.’
    ‘You wicked dog!’ Kydd laughed with delight. ‘So I must throw the ship over to a jaunting on another occasion. A rattling good plan, brother.’
    He moved forward to greet the first guests, a puffing gentleman, who had insisted on taking the side-steps, while his wife alighted daintily to the deck from the boatswain’s chair, apparently no stranger to the device. They were followed by Captain Pym of
Atlas
and his lady, piped aboard by a well-scrubbed boatswain, then a brace of young misses exclaiming with delight as their parents, too, made their way aboard.
    ‘Punch, ladies and gentlemen?’ Kydd offered after the introductions. He beckoned a hovering midshipman forward and turned to nod to the orchestra, which quickened its pace.
    More guests arrived, and he found himself at the centre of a gaily chattering throng, his heart lifting at the happy scene.
    ‘Upon my word, sir, but this is a pretty ship indeed!’ The young lady curtsied as she came under notice from the great captain. ‘I’ve heard it’s quite a flyer, sir.’
    ‘Why, so
she
is, my dear.’ Kydd tried frantically to remember her introduction at the levee, recalling in time that this was Amelia, the eldest of a substantial sugar factor. ‘As we sailors must call a ship “she” for her flightsome ways, Miss Amelia.’
    She was in a filmy pale-blue muslin gown, well suited to the warmth of the evening. It did nothing to hide her comeliness.
    ‘I shall try to remember, sir,’ she said seriously, but dimpled prettily. ‘And you are her captain. How proud you must be!’
    ‘She has her quips and quillets, as it must be said – especially in a lasking breeze – but, yes, I own myself much taken with her.’ Out of the corner of his eye Kydd caught an envious look from several nearby officers.
    The boatswain’s call sounded again and he raised his eyes to see which of the squadron captains would be next.
    It was Tyrell. He stepped aboard, looking around suspiciously. Kydd excused himself to go to greet him. ‘Why, Rufus, we’re pleased you’re able to come. Will you—’
    ‘May I present my wife, Kydd.’
    He had had no idea Tyrell was married or that his wife was on station with him. He gave a polite bow. ‘I hope you’ll enjoy the evening, Mrs Tyrell.’
    ‘Oh, I’m sure I shall!’ she exclaimed brightly. She was short and slender, her face lined but soft, almost wistful.
    Tyrell took her arm firmly and snapped, ‘Come, m’ dear – we have our duty to the others.’
    Kydd returned to his young lady. She had already attracted admirers: Lieutenant Bowden, handsome in his full dress uniform, and Lieutenant Clinton, of the Royal Marines, resplendent in his scarlet and gold. Both retreated in confusion at the arrival of their captain to snare their prize.
    ‘Shall I be your escort while we take a turn about the decks?’ Kydd said, offering his arm. A dazzling smile was his reward and