A Sloop of War Read online

  The dance may have been performed well, but the ladies that had failed to obtain partners observed the efforts of their more favoured colleagues with waspish hostility.

  ‘Oh, do look at the lack of poise with which Miss Morgan moves,’ hissed one from behind her fan. ‘Why, even old Mrs Galbraith with her truss is a superior dancer.’

  ‘And what an ill choice of colour Miss Brown has selected for her dress,’ replied her companion. ‘What consequence her figure may have, is quite lost by that revolting shade of green.’

  As the dancing continued, the party of the Rush’s officers gathered at one end of the room found covetous eyes upon them. Like sharks around a wounded mariner, various wives of plantation owners closed in on the group, intent on obtaining dance partners for their daughters. Charles Faulkner, the broadcloth of his uniform picked out for its superior weave by those with a nose for money was an early victim. He was followed shortly after by Macpherson, conspicuous with his dashing sideburns and scarlet tunic. Linfield and Sutton had escaped the first onslaught by locking themselves into an animated conversation with the recently arrived Lieutenant Munro. Only the corpulent Joseph Appleby was left, rejected as an undesirably gross figure to pair with their delicate offspring. This was a shame, for the Rush’s sailing master would have been a very willing dancer, if only he had been approached.

  Towards the end of the first dance, a ripple of movement traversed the room, centred on a group that had just entered the ballroom. Conversation faltered and died around them, causing the Master of Ceremonies to peer over the heads of the dancers to see what was amiss.

  ‘Well really,’ said a florid lady to her daughter standing nearby. ‘What are they doing here?’ Linfield broke off from his conversation with Munro, and craned his neck to see what had caused the commotion. Walking towards them, in the middle of a ring of turned backs came the figure of George Robertson. On his right arm was his oldest daughter Elizabeth, looking grim. On his left arm and close to tears was Emma.

  ‘Come on,’ he said to Sutton. ‘There are two damsels in need of saving. If you will dance with Miss Robertson, I will partner Miss Emma.’ Sutton looked over at the group, unsure of what to do. The hostility towards them in the room was palpable. ‘Come on, John,’ urged Linfield. ‘I suggested to the poor girl that they should come tonight, against her inclination. Surely common decency requires us to intervene. If I can’t persuade you to stir, I shall have to do so alone.’

  ‘What’s this hesitation, John,’ said Munro, with a smile. ‘You were never so shy facing the French.’

  ‘I should happily opt for a shot-torn deck over the risk of exposing myself to the censure of the company at a ball,’ muttered the lieutenant. He hesitated for a moment longer and then gave in. ‘Oh, very well, Jacob, lead me into the lion’s den.’

  ‘Mr Robertson, Miss Robertson and Miss Emma; a very good evening to you all,’ said Linfield, as if the resolute wall of guests’ backs around them was quite normal. ‘I trust I find you all in good health?’

  ‘Tolerably well, Mr Linfield, I thank you,’ replied Robertson. ‘And how are you and Mr Sutton enjoying your enforced time here in Bridgetown while your wee ship is put to rights?’

  ‘Mr Sutton, I know, has been somewhat harassed by all the work involved in restoring the Rush,’ replied the surgeon, ‘But happily that is now complete. I must thank you for your hospitality this week sir, and for the loan of Miss Emma. She took me on a most diverting ride and introduced me to some of the island’s fauna. My only regret is that I shall not be able to repeat the experience. The squadron is held on notice to depart now. We shall go the moment the army arrives from Jamaica.’ Emma was still too upset to speak, but she smiled in acknowledgement with downcast eyes and her face blushed a little. She wore a dress of apricot silk, and Linfield thought how pleasingly the colour in her cheeks contrasted with the warm tone of the material.

  ‘I did hear of your ride over my neighbour’s land and of your intervention in the punishment of one of his slaves,’ said Robertson. ‘He sent me a rather furious note threatening legal action, which I must say I regard as pleasing progress. The last time we spoke he swore that he would never communicate with me again!’ The men joined in his hearty laughter, while the ladies fanned themselves and smiled.

  ‘May we advance to more pressing matters, sir?’ asked the surgeon. ‘Mr Sutton and I were wondering if either of your daughters had yet made any commitments as to the next dance.’ Robertson smiled at the two young officers, and indicated the turned backs with a wave of his hand.

  ‘I believe I can confirm that no prior engagements have yet been formalised,’ he said, just loud enough for those around them to hear.

  ‘Then might I request the pleasure of this next dance, Miss Emma,’ said Linfield, bowing his head towards the younger daughter.

  ‘Why yes, Mr Linfield,’ she said, smiling with relief. ‘That would be most acceptable.’

  ‘And might I have the pleasure of this next dance with you, Miss Robertson?’ said Sutton, speaking for the first time. Elizabeth looked at her father with concern.

  ‘Go ahead, my child,’ he said. ‘I will be quite fine on my own.’

  *****

  ‘What a very poor figure John Sutton cuts with that rather plain girl he is dancing with,’ said Lieutenant Windham of the Agrius, with an air of satisfaction. ‘They really are a most undistinguished pair.’ He was lounging against one of the pillars on the veranda in the now dark garden. Golden light spilt out from the large open windows, through one of which he could see the dancing in the ballroom. Sutton and Elizabeth had just completed their set and were processing down the outside of the double line of dancers. As they disappeared from view, Windham glanced across at his companion, visible in the shadows only by the glow from the tip of his cigar.

  ‘Have you made any progress with him?’ asked Windham, his words a little slurred. ‘Have you discovered anything useful?’ The man took a long draw on his cigar before he answered. The nose and one eye of Charles Faulkner were briefly visible in the red glow.

  ‘Not a damned thing, Nicholas,’ he replied. ‘I am frankly surprised. He is not a very close cove, don’t you know. His character is tolerably open, with very little conceit. Are you quite sure he is guilty of what you accuse him?’

  ‘Oh I know he is,’ said Windham. ‘He and Clay had a complete want of respect for my uncle. They both knew that once the ship reached Bridgetown, he would have broken Clay like a straw.’

  ‘But how can you be so decided in your opinion that there was foul play?’ queried Faulkner. ‘You were not even present when Captain Follett fell.’

  ‘No, I was down on the main deck, doing my duty at the guns,’ said Windham. ‘Then Clay came down, interfering with everything as usual, demanding to know why the guns were not fired more briskly. He sent a midshipman up with a message to the captain telling him to break off the engagement while we reordered ourselves. Naturally Uncle Percy was not going to tolerate that sort of damned impertinence. He sent the same fellow straight back, telling him we fight on, whatever the Wondrous Clay thought, damn his eyes. I saw the look of utter contempt on his face. “You carry on here,” he said, and then stormed off up to the quarterdeck.’ Windham drained his glass, and looked around for a refill.

  ‘So why do you not hold that it was Clay who killed your uncle?’ asked Faulkner.

  ‘Oh, he has more low cunning than that,’ said Windham, his face red with anger. ‘He used his creature Sutton to do it for him. Probably didn’t have the bottom to do it himself.’ Windham looked about him once more. ‘Where are all the damned servants? Ahoy! What has a man got to do to get a bloody drink here?’

  ‘We will go in directly, old boy,’ said Faulkner. ‘First tell me how you know all this to be so?’ Windham looked about him before answering.

  ‘Because, my dear Charles, I have found a witness,’ he said. ‘One of the powder monkeys on the Agrius who was there when the mast came down. He says Sutto
n ordered the afterguard over to the larboard side to clear the wreckage, which left him all alone on the same side that my uncle had fallen from. He remembers Sutton looked over the broken rail, then he drew his sword to cut away at some strands of rigging. He thought nothing of it at the time, given everyone was hacking away to free the ship of the fallen mast.’

  ‘That is pretty thin, Nicholas,’ said Faulkner, shaking his head. ‘The word of a ship’s boy won’t answer against that of an officer, and in any case what did he truly see? Lieutenant Sutton cutting free some wreckage.’ Windham drew Faulkner close to him, till the purser could smell the alcohol fumes on his breath.

  ‘That is why, old boy, I need you to come up with something more incriminating,’ he said, his voice thick with menace. ‘My family were very generous to yours over your debts. I don’t think you would want the attention of your new friends brought to your colourful past, would you? They might wonder if you were really the sort of person to have put in charge of the ship’s wherewithal, what?’

  *****

  In the ballroom, Emma Robertson was growing ever fonder of Jacob Linfield. They were now dancing for the fourth time in a row, and as they whirled around one another, she was able to study his face. It was the only unmoving object in her vision, against the kaleidoscopic backdrop of the ballroom moving past. When they had first met she had been drawn to John Sutton’s dark colouring, but now that she was forced to take notice of the fair haired surgeon, without his straw hat, she saw that he was really quite handsome too. The pale blue eyes that held her gaze were kind, and his mouth carried a broad smile of simple pleasure in the dance, much as it had as he watched the butterflies on their ride together. With another turn they were back at their places in the line, puffing with effort and grinning at each other while the other couples completed their sets.

  With a long final chord the orchestra brought the dance to an end. The men all bowed to their partners, while the ladies dropped into curtsies, their dresses spreading around them on the floor like opening flowers. A polite patter of applause came from those watching the dance, and the lines broke up as couples went this way and that. Jacob leant forward to take Emma’s hand, and helped her up from her curtsy.

  ‘My word, Mr Linfield, much as I am enjoying your society, you must let me defer the pleasure of another dance for a moment,’ she gasped as she fanned herself. ‘It is never cool here in Barbados, but with all this press of persons, it is really too warm to be endured.’ Linfield looked up at the blazing chandeliers that hung from the ceiling of the ballroom.

  ‘I fear the candles are not helping matters either. Allow me to procure for you some refreshment,’ he said, waving over a footman with a loaded tray of drinks. ‘What will you have?’ Emma accepted some fruit juice, and he took a glass of wine.

  ‘Shall we see if a turn about the garden will not answer to restore our composure,’ he suggested, once they had finished their drinks. He indicated the open double doors that led out onto the veranda, and through which a delicious sea breeze could be felt on their faces. ‘Unless you fear you may get a chill, Miss Emma?’ he added.

  ‘Well, you are the medical man, Mr Linfield,’ she said with a mischievous twinkle. ‘Do you council me against it?’

  ‘Not in the least,’ laughed the surgeon as he led her towards the door. ‘If sea air were in anyway a harmful vapour, I would have a decidedly full sick bay to deal with.’

  Outside in the garden they both breathed in the warm tropical air with delight. The moon had now risen, dusting the waves of Carlisle Bay with silver. Behind them the noise and light of the ball spilt out into the night through the open windows. Ahead of them the garden was velvety dark and inviting, full of the heady scent of tropical flowers, and the rustle of the breeze amid the tree tops.

  ‘When I arrived here earlier, I believe I saw a pathway over here,’ he said, holding out his arm. ‘Shall we venture out and see where it leads?’ Emma linked a gloved arm through his, and they set off into the night.

  ‘Mr Linfield,’ she said after a while. ‘I must tell you how grateful I am for your intervention when we arrived. I knew that my father’s actions had made us disliked, but I had but little notion of the depth of the contempt in which we were held. I was willing him to turn about and leave, but he can be a most determined man.’

  ‘And are you now pleased that he was so persistent, Miss Emma?’ he asked, his face invisible in the dark, but the tone of his voice clear.

  ‘Yes I believe I am, Mr Linfield,’ she replied, enjoying the warm contact of his arm. ‘I will confess that immediately before you approached us, I had been hoping that the ground might open and swallow me up, but I am now content that it remained solid.’

  ‘As am I,’ he said. ‘It is strange, but I had told Mr Sutton that I was but an indifferent dancer, yet with you as my partner I felt distinctly fleeter of foot than I can remember. You really do have many talents, Miss Emma.’

  ‘Really, Mr Linfield?’ she replied. ‘I always thought of myself as generally deficient in the accomplishments that a young lady of quality should possess.’

  ‘By no means, Miss Emma,’ said the surgeon. ‘You are a most able horsewomen, you dance very well, and you are agreeable and quick in discourse.’

  ‘That is very obliging of you to say so. But I cannot help noting that you did not mention my performance of attitudes, such as the one I demonstrated when we first met, Mr Linfield?’ she queried.

  ‘Ah, well, yes....’ he stuttered. ‘I am, eh, perhaps not the best person to comment on refinements such as those.’ Emma laughed aloud at his obvious discomfort.

  ‘Shall I let you into a secret, Mr Linfield?’ she whispered. ‘It is my father who is chiefly fond of seeing them performed. I believe it is because my late mother was much taken by them, and it reminds him of her. Between us, I think they are rather absurd.’

  ‘Oh, thank God,’ he said. ‘That is a relief.’

  ‘Miss Emma,’ he continued, after a few moments of companionable silence. ‘It has been difficult for me to understand how distressing the social isolation that has followed on from your father’s act of emancipation must be for you and your sister. Perhaps after tonight, having witnessed the cruel way your family were treated, I can comprehend it a little better. But I need to inform you that I believe in my heart that what your father has done is right. Oh I know that he was motivated by other notions than human decency, but I still hold the course he has followed to be the correct moral one, even if it was not the easiest one for you and your sister.’

  ‘Thank you for your candour, Mr Linfield,’ she replied, her voice serious for once. ‘My father had warned me that you were somewhat hot in your views on the matter of slavery. Indeed, you demonstrated that quite fully when you intervened with that poor wretch when we rode together. If I may be frank in my turn, I would have thought your views absurd a year ago. I have spent my whole life among sugar plantations. To me slaves were as necessary a part of such enterprises as cattle are to a farmer. In many ways I had regarded our slaves in a not dissimilar light. To my mind they were never persons in any meaningful sense of that word.’

  ‘Miss Emma, I must ask if you still hold such views now?’ he asked, his voice neutral.

  ‘No, Mr Linfield, I confess my ideas on the matter have changed somewhat,’ she said. ‘I will not deceive you. I am still far from being the committed abolitionist, but perhaps I have travelled a little way along that path. Would you like to hear my present views?’

  ‘Very much so,’ he said, ‘if you do not consider it overbearing of me to enquire?’

  ‘By no means,’ she said, trying to read his expression in the dark. ‘I know how important a matter this is to you.’ They walked on a little farther, becoming silent as they passed another couple.

  ‘I had assumed that when my father freed our slaves,’ she continued, once they were alone, ‘they would slide into a life of dissolution. The wages that my father paid them would be squandered on drink and
vice, if only through ignorance of any better manner of living. In some cases this has happened, but most of them have not followed that route. The land that my father made available to them has been divided intelligently among them. They have arranged it into plots where they can grow vegetables, and some of them now even keep chickens. They have built themselves dwellings as well, together with a little furniture. In many ways they seem to be establishing themselves into a well regulated community. One couple have even approached the local parson with a view to formalising their relationship into marriage.’

  ‘Have they indeed?’ he said. ‘That is encouraging. Will you show me this community when I return next to Barbados, Miss Emma? I should very much like to see it for myself.’

  ‘Why, yes, if you wish me to,’ she replied. They were now deep into the garden. It was some time since they had last seen any other couples enjoying the night air. Emma stopped in a patch of moonlit ground between two stands of trees and turned to face her companion.

  ‘Mr Linfield,’ she asked. ‘There is something I too must ask you. Was it only pity for my situation that made you approach me earlier tonight?’

  ‘Oh Emma,’ he said, his voice suddenly passionate. ‘My actions were not driven by pity. Had you been the most popular lady here tonight, I would still have wanted to dance only with you. I admire you very much indeed, and I hope you now regard me with a little more favour than before.’

  ‘Jacob, of course I do,’ she said. He looked into her face, and saw she was crying, the teardrops pearls in the moonlight. He tentatively took hold of her other hand, and gently, little by little, drew her into his arms. Neither of them had any experience of this situation. With great uncertainty at first, but soon with growing confidence they kissed.