The French Admiral by Dewey Lambdin Read Free Book Online Page B

benign aspect. Alan sometimes thought that the ship was breathing and purring like a contented cat by a warm hearth, rising and falling and slightly rolling with a deep and somnolent breath.
    By God, that bastard hedge-priest can’t take this away from me, Alan told himself, peeling off his short midshipman’s coat and waistcoat. The day had been hot, and the area below decks before sailing had been stifling. He spread his arms to let the cool night wind explore every inch of his body that he could expose and still preserve modesty. He undid his neck-stock, unlaced his shirt and held it away from his skin for a moment. He felt a bit of breeze where one normally did not feel breezes and inspected his breeches.
    My God, I came back aboard with my prick damn near hanging out, he groaned. After those men attacked us, I never did up all my buttons. No wonder Treghues was thundering at me like he was.
    Bad as the captain’s opinion of him was at that moment, bad as it could get in the future (and Alan wondered if such a thing were possible), he could not restrain a peal of laughter at the picture he must have made.
    â€œIf you have discovered a reason for glee, by God I’d appreciate you letting me share it,” David said from the darkness of the quarterdeck, almost invisible except for the whiteness of his breeches, shirt, and coat facings.
    â€œDid you notice that I was a bit out of uniform when we were aft?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHad my breeches up with one bloody button, that’s what!”
    David broke into a hearty laugh as well. “You mean to tell me you went in there looking like something out of The Rake’s Progress and you didn’t know?”
    â€œMe and my crotch exposed, you and your head bandaged—we must have seemed like the worst Jack Nasty-Faces Treghues had ever laid eyes on!”
    They went forward to inspect the lookouts and to get away from their captain’s open skylight, in case he was still awake and now busily inscribing their names in his book of the eternally damned.
    â€œGod, I am laughing so hard my ribs ache,” Alan said, stumbling about the deck over ring-bolts and gun tackle and damned near howling, which upset the watch since they weren’t in on the joke.
    â€œI have tears in my eyes, I swear I do,” David chimed in, pulling his bloody handkerchief out of his pocket and applying it to his face.
    â€œAh!” Alan heaved a great breath to calm down. He stopped laughing. “I would suppose we had better savor this. It’s the last laugh we shall have for a long time.”
    â€œWorth it though, stap we if it wasn’t. Here now, Lewrie, next leave is on me, my treat.”
    â€œGood. And I shall let you go first in the morning. In the beginning, the . . .”
    â€œNo, no, you’d be so much better at the Bible than me,” David said, calming himself. “You’ve probably already violated half of it. Besides, why get us into more trouble by a report of blaspheming?”
    â€œYou’re right,” Alan agreed, leading them back aft.
    â€œUm, Alan, what did the captain mean about you forcing yourself on your own blood back there?” David asked.
    â€œJust raving, I expect. Think nothing on it.”
    â€œDid that have anything to do with the way he turned against you so quickly after Commodore Sinclair took over the squadron?” David asked. “I mean you’ve never been really all that forthcoming about your past before the Navy. As your friend, it would make no difference to me, but . . .”
    â€œSir George knows my father, and like me thinks about as much of him as cowshit on his best shoes. And there’s Forrester sneaking behind our backs to his uncle Sir George,” Alan said quickly. “Put those two together and you get Treghues trimming his sails to suit Sir George.”
    â€œMy father caught me with the cook’s daughter,” David confessed in a soft