Part 25 (1/2)

”Ah, here are the ladies,” said the admiral, shrugging off the coverlets and rising stiffly to his feet. ”I have asked your wife to join us, Ramsden, since this will obviously affect her as well. Good morning, Lady Edward. I trust you are well this day?”

Aghast, Edward didn't turn. He'd been so wrapped up in his own misery that he'd forgotten these orders wouldn't affect only him. He now had a wife and her future to consider as well.

And what in blazes would Francesca's reaction be? True, they'd married for reasons different than most couples, but he'd been able to offer her certain guarantees about himself and his situation. Now he had none: No home, no future, not even a respectable means for supporting her.

He wasn't entirely without resources, of course. He'd been careful to put aside most of his prize money, and he did have a small income left from his mother. Even in disgrace, he could surely find a place as captain on board a merchant vessel or, with his fighting experience, a privateersman. But it wouldn't be the same, not by half, and he could not blame Francesca if she felt that, after this morning, he was far less of a gentleman than she'd married, and far, far less of a man.

How fortunate now that she'd kept from his bed after they'd wed, for the sake of each other as well as for those children they hadn't conceived. Had she somehow guessed this would happen, and now would expect her freedom? He'd give it to her, if she asked it, but dear G.o.d, how he'd hate to lose her as well!

He heard the gentle shush of her skirts as she entered the room and the murmur of her reply to the admiral's question. Without looking he knew the exact moment she came to stand beside him, smelling the familiar blossom-sweetness of her scent. They couldn't have been apart more than a quarter hour, and still he'd missed her.

And yet now he couldn't make himself turn toward her or greet her. What the devil was he supposed to say, anyway? How could he explain what had happened when he wasn't sure himself?

The admiral cleared his throat impatiently, obviously expecting Edward to have spoken first. ”I've asked you to join us, my lady, because your husband has received his sailing orders. Unless he chooses to leave you here with us in Palermo, we shall be losing your company as well as his.”

Edward heard the slight gasp from her, swiftly smothered. Was it the news that they were sailing that had caused that, or the suggestion that he might leave her behind?

”But that is most excellent news, My Lord Admiral-bellissimo!” she exclaimed, though Edward could hear the tremor of brave uneasiness in her voice. ”My husband has been eager to sail once more against the French, and now you've granted his wish. Isn't that so, caro mio?”

”It's not my blasted wish, Francesca,” he said, more bitterly than he realized, or would have wanted. ”They've taken the Centaur away from me, and now I must sail clear to London like so much baggage, to wait upon the pleasure of the lords of the admiralty so I might learn their reasons.”

”Oh, Edward,” she whispered, too stunned to speak more loudly. ”Oh, Edward, mi dispiace, tesoro mio, mi dispiace!”

I am sorry, my darling, I am sorry: He'd learned enough Italian from her to know her meaning, and even if he hadn't, he would have understood from her voice alone, such genuine sadness and empathy that he could have wept with her.

Heedless of the admiral and Lady Hamilton, he reached blindly for her hand. When had he come to need the touch of those little fingers so much? ”I am sorry, too, Francesca,” he said to her, as if the others weren't there. ”Sorry for everything.”

”Well, aye, aye, Ramsden, that's how life falls, doesn't it?” said the admiral briskly, drumming his own fingers on the edge of the desk as Lady Hamilton came to stand beside him, ostensibly to pour his tea. ”We poor mortals do what we can, while our Maker and the Lord of the Admiralty settles the rest around us.”

”Aye, sir.” No sympathy from the admiral's quarter, then, not that Edward truly expected any. From this day onward, he must expect less than nothing, and be grateful for that.

”Very well, sir, very well,” continued the admiral with too-obvious relief. ”Unless you have any grave objections, Lieutenant Pye shall become the Centaur's acting captain until other arrangements can be made. I have already written the orders to that effect, but I thought it best that you spoke to him first.”

”He will welcome both the challenge and the honor, sir,” said Edward, somehow managing to make the expected response. Of course the s.h.i.+p needed a captain; not even he could deny that. And what a lucky b.a.s.t.a.r.d Pye was, to be handed a plum like the Centaur-his Centaur. ”Of course I shall speak to him, if that is what you wish.”

”I do, for the ease of the Centaur's people,” said the admiral, eager to move beyond Edward's own feelings. ”Sudden changes can disturb the men if not handled well, what? But I am sure everything stands in excellent order with the Centaur, Ramsden, and since I have your latest reports, there will be nothing left to hang upon your conscience.”

Nothing, that is, except this hideous disgrace that no one seemed capable of naming....

”When must we leave, my lord?” asked Francesca beside him, the question Edward hadn't had the heart to ask himself. Her voice was scarce above a whisper, and more weighted with her Neapolitan accent than usual when she spoke among Englishmen, another sure sign of her own uncertainty. ”There will be preparations to make for such a voyage.”

The admiral blew his nose loudly, using a handkerchief conveniently offered by Lady Hamilton. ”You will be joining your husband, then, Lady Edward?”

”Of course, my lord,” she said with a gratifying mixture of surprise and indignation. Gratifying, even though Edward guessed it must be London that was the attraction, and not himself. h.e.l.l, at this point his battered esteem would take whatever it could salvage.

But the admiral was looking to him now, his rheumy eyes full of unspoken questions over his handkerchief. Clearly he believed Edward meant to leave Francesca behind like any other officer's mistress in a foreign point, an unfortunate enc.u.mbrance quickly shed, the way the admiral would undoubtedly part with Lady Hamilton.

But not Edward, and not Francesca.