Darkening Sea by Alexander Kent Read Free Book Online Page A

voice was level, prepared, as if she already knew.
    Bolitho replied, “Admiral Sir James Hamett-Parker.” In his mind he could clearly see the thin mouth and pale eyes, as if he were intruding into this very room.
    One hand went to her breast. “Was he not the one . . .”
    He smiled grimly. “Yes, dear Kate, the President of Thomas Herrick’s court martial.” Was it only a year ago?
    He added, “So he has the whip-hand now.” He turned as Ozzard entered with a tray and two goblets.
    Catherine looked at the little man and smiled. “Your timing is better than that of any sand in a glass!”
    Ozzard regarded her impassively. “Thank you, m’lady.” To Bolitho he said, “I thought some hock might be suitable, Sir Richard.”
    No secrets. The news would be all over the estate soon, then the town. Bolitho was leaving. For glory or to some fresh scandal, it was too soon to predict. Bolitho waited for the inner door to close, and then he placed a goblet in her hand.
    â€œI raise a glass to my lovely Kate.” He did so, and smiled. “Don’t worry too much about Godschale’s successor. It is better, I think, to know an enemy than to lose a friend.”
    She watched him over the rim of her goblet. “Must it always be you, Richard? I have said as much in the past, even at the risk of offending you. I know you might hate a position ashore . . . at the Admiralty perhaps, where respected leaders like you are in short supply, it seems . . .”
    He took her goblet and stood it beside his own. Then he gripped her hands and looked at her steadily for some time. She could feel his inner struggle like something physical.
    â€œThis war cannot last much longer, Kate. Unless things turn against us it must end. The enemy will lose heart once English soldiers are in their streets.” She knew it was important to him, too vital to interrupt.
    â€œAll my life I have been at sea, as is the way in my family. For over twenty years of my service I have been fighting the French and whatever ally they might have at any one moment—but always the French. I have seen too many men and boys torn apart in battle, and I blame myself for many of them.” He gripped her hands more tightly and said, “It is enough. When the enemy flag comes down . . .”
    She stared at him. “You intend to quit? To abandon the life you have always known?”
    He smiled slowly, and afterwards she thought it had been like seeing the real man emerge. The one she had loved and almost lost, the man she shared with none other.
    â€œI want to be with you, Catherine. It will be a new navy when the war ends, with younger officers like Adam to improve the sailor’s lot.” He smiled again. “Like Allday’s song that day, ‘to keep watch for the life of Poor Jack.’ Our men have earned that reward at least, a thousand times over.”
    Later they stood by the open doors, so that she could see the orchard and the hillside, with the rich display of roses she had planted for his return.
    Bolitho said quietly, “There is a moment in every sailor’s life.” He looked for the first time at the sea, its hard horizon like a steel blade. “I think brave Nelson knew it, even before he walked the deck that day off Cape Trafalgar.” He turned and looked at her. “I am not ready, dear Kate. Fate alone will decide, not the Hamett-Parkers of this world.”
    They heard the clatter of a post-horse leaving the stableyard, carrying his brief reply to the lords of Admiralty.
    He smiled and held her waist more tightly. So be it then.

3 VOICE IN THE N IGHT
    I T TOOK Bolitho and Catherine all of six days to make the long journey to London. Using their carriage, and with a regular change of horses, they could have done it in less. But the Admiralty had named no particular date for his interview and had merely suggested “at your earliest