Jane Austen Made Me Do It (24 page)

Bailey knew he had gone too far; there was nothing for him to do but touch the brim of his hat and murmur, “Yes, sir; I apologize, sir.”

The captain nodded. “Very well, very well. Carry on, young gentlemen, carry on,” and he walked to the wheel to consult with the sailing master.

The captain welcomed Wentworth and Harville to his cabin with his usual courtly manners. Seeing that the midshipmen were nervous and inclined to remain standing, he invited them to sit down in the kindest way, and his steward—no superior
valet
, but a sailor dressed in clean slops, a gold earring in one ear and a thick queue hanging down his back, an indication of long service—brought in the steaming dishes of food.

The midshipmen sniffed at the savory scents rising from the covered dishes, and Harville's stomach rumbled audibly. The captain's eyes twinkled. “I asked Brown to make a special dish for you young gentlemen tonight; a dish I remember was very popular in the midshipmen's mess when I was a younker. Did you make the millers, Brown?”

The midshipmen exchanged a look; Wentworth could see the horror in Harville's eyes that no doubt reflected his own.

“Aye, Captain,” said Brown cheerfully. “Found some good fat ones feasting in the bread-room, and caught and dressed them in a trice. Nothing like a miller fattened on ship's biscuit, I always say.”

Wentworth was no stranger to the occasional roasted miller, which is what the sailors called rats; midshipmen long at sea often resorted to catching rats and cooking them, sometimes their only chance at something like fresh meat on a long voyage; but it was not what one expected to get at the captain's table.

“You roasted them?” the captain asked Brown.

“Aye, sir, with taters and onions. They'll have cooked up tender and juicy, no doubt. I made a nice thick gravy, too, Captain, that you can pour over your taters.”

Lieutenant O'Brien hid his face behind his hand.

“Oh, that's excellent, excellent.” The captain beamed at them, rubbing his hands together. “Nothing like a good fat roasted miller. I hope you put in plenty of herbs, Brown.”

“Aye, Captain. They bring out the flavor, so to speak.”

The captain regarded the midshipmen's pained expressions, exchanged a look with his steward brimful of mirth, and burst into laughter, joined by Brown and O'Brien. “Oh, gentlemen, if you could see your faces! Have no fear, there are no rats on the menu. We can give you a better dinner than that.” And indeed he did: roast chicken and ham, and potatoes roasted with turnips and carrots, and even fresh rolls baked earlier in the day. Harville and Wentworth partook like the growing boys they were, encouraged by the captain and his steward, who refilled their plates as soon as they could empty them.

At last they were replete, and the captain passed round the port. Wentworth, as junior officer, made the toast to the King.

The captain lifted his glass. “To friends at home.” They all echoed the toast and drank. “Speaking of friends at home,” he said, “I hope Miss Wentworth is in health?”

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir. I had a letter from her in the last mailbag, and had the pleasure of hearing her well.”

“Very good. Is she an unmarried lady?”

“Yes, sir. She teaches at a school in Portsmouth.”

“A teacher, eh?” The captain sipped his port. “Have you no other friends with whom Miss Wentworth might find a home? Your uncle, perhaps?”

“No, sir; my uncle is a fellow at St. John's College, and my brother is up at Oxford as well. He is to take orders, sir. After my father died, Sophy lived with our cousin for a while, but they did not get on. Sophy does not like to be idle, so teaching suits her, sir.”

“Of course. That speaks well for her.” Wentworth did not feel that the captain's questions were impertinent; he was pleased by the attention, and it occurred to him that it was a good thing for an officer to know about his underlings' situations and obligations.
The captain then turned his gentle inquiries upon Harville, and within a few moments knew all about his family, the farm his parents and older brothers tended, and the sisters who plagued him. “My sisters are not pretty like Mr. Wentworth's, Captain.”

“Indeed? Miss Wentworth is a pretty girl, then?”

“I have not seen her, sir, but Mr. Bailey saw her in Portsmouth and said she is monstrous pretty.”

“I hope, gentlemen,” said the captain, addressing Wentworth and Harville, “that you will not model your behavior on that of those officers who are not as they should be; if I may speak plainly, between us, you should not model yourselves upon Mr. Bailey.” The captain's tone was familiar; he was speaking to them as a father. “There is a reason that Mr. Bailey is thirty and still a midshipman. No captain will have him as a lieutenant, he has no interest to get on, and he has failed to take advantage of opportunities presented to him. You must always be ready to take advantage of opportunities, boys. That is how you get ahead in the Navy. Is that not so, Mr. O'Brien?”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

“Very good. You've finished your port? Then go see how the wind is.”

The midshipmen, knowing this to be a dismissal, made their way to their hammocks. As they undressed, Harville whispered, “The captain is a ripping 'un, ain't he?”

“Yes,” said Wentworth. “He is.”

“Freddy!” Sophy stood at the sally port, waving her handkerchief over her head. “Freddy! Over here!”

Wentworth raised a hand to acknowledge her. He could not help smiling. Sophy looked so fresh and young and, yes, pretty—he could see it now. As soon as the boat scraped against the bulkhead, he raced up the ladder and ran to meet his sister.

She embraced him for a very long moment. “How you have grown! I must look up to you now!”

“You have looked up to me for a year, Sophy.” He kissed her cheek. “I am very glad to see you. I have much to tell you, but I cannot stay long.”

“I am just glad you could get away.” She looked him over.
“You are outgrowing that coat. If you can give it to me, I'll let down the sleeves.”

“This is my old work coat. I do not care what it looks like.”

“I care. I would not want anyone saying I do not look after you.” She took the arm he offered, and they made their way to the ramparts, where they walked and looked out into the busy harbor, and he told her about the battle.

“The Admiralty now thinks the French sloop that was intercepted with the news of the Irish invasion was a spy sent to give false information. The French ships came out from Brest, but they turned south instead of towards Ireland, and they made it to the Med.”

Sophy gasped. “Oh, no!”

“I hope the Frenchies like the Med, for they won't get out of there soon, now that we know their tricks. Bridport ordered us to Spithead with dispatches, and on the way we fell in with a French frigate escorting the barque, trying to sneak through the blockade. We took the prize and gave the frigate a tickling, to be sure, before he made a run in to Brest.”

“But you were carrying dispatches, and it was a bigger ship. Should you not have run away?”

“Well—yes, but then the frigate would have got through the blockade and done who knows what mischief. No, it is better this way.”

Sophy looked up at her brother solemnly. “I thought being on a sloop, I did not have to worry about you.”

He smiled at her. “You do not have to worry about me, Sophy. You know I have always been lucky. Look at the prize money I shall have! I'll buy you a new gown.”

“You'll do nothing of the sort; I can very well afford to buy my own gowns. You'll put your prize money in the Funds, if you please. I hope,” she said, looking away from him and out to the
harbor, “that the captain will not have trouble as a result of this action. I hope the Admiralty will not think he should have kept the dispatches safe, and not gone after the prize.”

“Oh, Sophy,” cried Wentworth, turning to her, “you should have seen him! He is so much the gentleman, you know, as I told you, but in battle so many captains start swearing and shouting, just in the moment, but he was just the same! Cool as you please, I declare—it was, ‘Mr. O'Brien, if you please,' and ‘Mr. Wentworth, I would be greatly obliged if,' as though he were asking us to pass his hat. And he never hesitated; as soon as they were sighted, we went after them.” He stopped and said in admiring tones, “He is a ripping 'un, Sophy, I tell you.”

She smiled and said, “I hope you will present your captain to me; perhaps at the ball?”

“Will you come to the ball, then?”

“Oh, yes; the ladies of Miss Burns' Select Seminary know our duty to our fighting men, and will present ourselves, beribboned and perfumed, for your dancing pleasure.”

Wentworth hesitated. “I should probably tell you—Bailey saw you when I embarked, and he has told everyone that you are the prettiest girl in Portsmouth.”

Sophy laughed heartily. “I hope you disabused them of that notion!”

“It was not possible,” he said. “And now the officers are all wild to dance with you.”

“Well, they may,” she said, “but just be sure that you present your captain to me. For
my
part, I am wild to meet
him
.”

The assembly room was agreeably crowded, and the
Viper
's officers, despite the captain's apprehensions, were pleased to see there were plenty of pretty young ladies to go round. Wentworth stood on tiptoe, trying to find his sister in the crowd.

He did not know that Captain Croft was at his elbow, and was startled when he spoke. “I hope,” he said, “that you will present me to Miss Wentworth.”

“Yes, sir. She particularly asked to meet you.”

“She did?” He looked surprised, yet pleased.

At that moment, Wentworth heard his sister's voice calling him. He turned to see her, smiling and pretty, in a new gown that seemed to his brotherly eyes cut shockingly low in the neckline. Her hair was swept up into a profusion of curls with white beads woven through them. She looked lovely and sophisticated, and he felt like a scrub in his ill-fitting dress uniform. Nonetheless, he took her hand and kissed it with what he thought was great gallantry.

She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Dear Freddy! I am glad to see you.”

“And I you. May I present Captain Croft to you?”

Did she blush? Sophy
never
blushed! “Yes, of course.” She lifted a hand to her hair, and then snatched it down and held it behind her back.

Wentworth brought the captain forward and put on his best formal manners. “Miss Wentworth, please allow me to present Captain Croft of His Majesty's sloop of war
Viper
to your notice. Captain, my sister, Miss Wentworth.” Thinking he had carried it off rather well, he stepped back, and only then noticed that the captain had taken his sister's hand, and that they were looking into one another's eyes, their expressions all wonder and delight.