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Authors: Kaye Dacus

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She shook her head.

“God’s faithfulness. How He has promised He will never leave us nor forsake us. And how we are to reflect His faithfulness in our own lives by offering that kind of steadfastness to the ones we love. I know I betrayed your trust twelve years ago, but I promise I will never leave you nor forsake you, and I promise I will do whatever it takes to show you that you can depend on me.”

An idyllic picture of William by her side at Tierra Dulce made her smile…but that image faded into one of her standing on a lonely dock waving as a boat rowed him out to his ship. “You will be at sea. And while I know you will always be faithful to me and I can trust in your steadfastness, I must still depend on myself and my strength and knowledge to see me through my daily life.”

A hint of pain flickered through William’s eyes, but he quickly slipped back into his mask of no emotion. “But I am here now, Julia. Let me help you while I can. Let me take the burden from you, if just for a short time, before you shoulder all of your duties and responsibilities.”

She wanted to say no, to turn down his offer, but the ache in her foot and knee stopped her. “Agreed. I will try.”

And she would try even harder to not allow this exercise in marital trust and dependence make her fall even more deeply in love with him than she already was. She could not become like her mother and waste away pining for him, losing more of herself the longer they were apart.

He helped her up and then insisted on assisting her to dress—requesting she wear one of the dresses that laced up the back rather than buttoned, since they were running short on time. After tying the laces, he unplaited her hair, running his fingers through it to remove the tangles.

“I do not have time to do anything with it.”

“Leave it loose,” he whispered in her ear. “You know I prefer it thus.”

A pleasured tingle danced down her spine. “But it will be blowing
in my face. Here”—she took the ribbon from him—“I will tie it back, like this.” She gathered it all at the nape of her neck and tied it. “Now…my crutch.”

He handed her the long stick with the short beam across the top that just fitted under her arm. She hopped along with it pretty well, thanks to the practice she’d had with it yesterday. She retrieved her straw bonnet from the hook on the side of the wardrobe. William picked up his prayer book and hat and then offered his arm to Julia. It took a few steps to accustom herself to balancing herself between the crutch and his arm, but she reveled in the relief his support provided.

She had just about determined how she would manage the steps up to the poop deck when William swept her up into his arms and carried her up them. He deposited her in a chair—she recognized it as one of the chairs from the dining cabin—and turned away from her to face the crew now gathering on deck as eight chimes rang out, followed by the bosun’s whistle for all hands.

After her initial indignation, Julia found herself smiling. He knew her well and had avoided another disagreement over her stubbornly insisting she could climb the steps herself with no help by taking the decision out of her hands.

Dawling bustled over with a footstool. She shook her head but did allow him to take her crutch so it was out of the way. With her chair beside William, the lieutenants lined up behind them. She missed Ned’s smiles, but it was good to see Gibson with the white patches removed from his collar and an epaulet on his shoulder indicating his promotion to acting lieutenant.

Hands clasped behind him, William leaned forward, a slight breeze ruffling his hair between hat and collar. “Good morning, crew of
Alexandra.”

The crew saluted and shouted their “good morning” back, and everyone removed his hat. As William quoted a verse from the book of Joel, Julia could not keep her eyes from him. Last Sunday, she had not gotten to witness him leading the crew in worship, as he had to use the time to read out the Articles of War, as prescribed by the Admiralty to be
done once a month in place of prayers. He read the prayer book and his Bible every morning and, at her request, had taken to reading the passages and prayers aloud so she could have the benefit of them as well. But seeing him standing before more than seven hundred men and quoting Scripture and extolling God’s love for them made Julia’s heart swell with pride.

He moved on to read the Morning Prayers. And though the words had been written by someone else more than a century ago, William’s heart shone through the words. When her father had given the Sunday service aboard
Indomitable,
it had been perfunctory—very much like the recitation of the Articles of War. For William, this was not merely a performance of his duty as captain of this ship; this was the only time when he allowed his true feelings to be seen by the men under his command…the feelings that stemmed from his love for God.

After the Collect and prayers and Scripture readings and William’s soliloquy, Acting Lieutenant Gibson stepped forward and began singing a hymn. Julia closed her eyes. She had heard many tales of Gibson’s talent, but to hear the rich, deep voice—so incongruous with the young man’s appearance—she knew in that moment what the angel Gabriel must have sounded like when he appeared to Mary and then to the shepherds at the annunciation.

Perhaps, if William were to decide to leave the Royal Navy, he could enter the church and become a rector. In fact, the rector of the Tierra Dulce parish was quite old and could possibly be encouraged to retire if a replacement were readily at hand.

She focused on William again, and the fantasy faded like a wisp of steam. Like her father, William would never be happy away from the Royal Navy. She would do well to remember that, and to also guard her heart for the time when his duty would take him away from her. She must learn to enjoy the times when they were together.

She prayed there would be more reunions than partings.

C
harlotte wrote the coordinates on the log board as Master Bolger called them out. After a few days and several duty shifts as the midshipman of the watch, the sense of panic every time she had to tell someone to do something—whether a sailor, one of the mids on her watch, or one of the warrant officers—had finally started dissipating.

And since Ned had been spending most of the time in his cabin—sometimes alone and sometimes with one or more of the lieutenants or warrant officers—her worry over his recognizing her had also diminished.

Isaac McLellan skidded to a stop and saluted Lieutenant Duncan. “Midshipman Clerke’s regards, sir. We have closed within thirty yards of the ship ahead, sir.”

“Very good.” Duncan dismissed the eager young midshipman and then turned to Charlotte. “Lott, my respects to Captain Cochrane. Please inform him we are in position and I respectfully request to reef tops’ls.”

Before she could respond, another voice said, “I will do it, sir.”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at Kent. Normally, she would have been grateful for anyone’s offer to keep her from being face-to-face with Ned. But not Kent. She liked Ned too much to leave him to Kent’s sycophantic ways.

“I ordered Lott to do it.” Duncan, barely older than Hamilton and Martin, fixed Kent with a challenging gaze. “And as you are not on duty, Mr. Kent, you should not be in the wheelhouse.”

Kent moved closer to the third lieutenant, as if trying to intimidate him into backing down. She’d seen him do it with Martin before Martin’s promotion, but Duncan would have none of it. When Duncan stood firm, Kent changed his tactics and gave Duncan a tight-lipped smile.

Charlotte moved slowly toward the big-cabin door, not wanting to miss the end of the encounter.

“The captain passed word to see me,” Kent said. “That’s why I offered to take the information to him, since I am going in there anyway.”

Charlotte turned and hurried the last few steps to the door, anxious to have done with her duty before she had to witness Kent’s toadying. The marine guard knocked for her.

“Enter.” Ned’s voice rang clearly from within.

Taking a deep breath, she did as commanded and entered the dining cabin. The double doors to the day cabin stood open, framing Ned, sitting at an ornate round table with paperwork spread out in front of him.

He finished writing something, wiped his quill, and entered the dining cabin to stand across the big table from her.

Her knees quaked. She was alone with Ned Cochrane, something she had stopped herself from dreaming and thinking about many, many times. “Lieutenant Duncan’s respects, sir. We have closed to within thirty yards of the ship ahead, sir, and Lieutenant Duncan requests permission to reef topsails.”

Before Ned could respond, the marine knocked on the door again. The muscles in Charlotte’s neck tightened so much, she feared they might snap.

“Enter,” Ned called.

Kent bounded in, stood beside Charlotte, and swept his hat off his head in much the same way Charlotte had seen Julia’s smarmy cousin, Sir Drake, do. “Midshipman Kent reporting as ordered, sir.”

Charlotte tried to keep her dislike of Kent from showing in her face—Ned kept looking at her, and she did not want him marking her as a malcontent or troublemaker and deciding to keep a close eye on her.

“We shall have to postpone our meeting a few minutes, Mr. Kent.” Ned turned and retrieved his bicorne from the other room. “We are going to need the crew on duty to man their stations to reef tops’ls.” He came around the table and preceded them from his quarters.

Charlotte allowed Kent to exit ahead of her—after all, he did have seniority, and she did not want to do anything to further antagonize him. The fact he had made no mention of her promotion to watch commander, that nothing had happened to her since the crew had been informed of all of the promotions, made her fear he was planning something extreme at a time when she least expected it. Better not to turn her back on him.

She hurried forward as the whistle blew so she could supervise from a better vantage point the midshipmen of her watch and the crew climbing up to the mast tops to shorten the topmost sails.

Duncan joined her. He kept an eye on their surroundings, and especially the stern of the ship just off their larboard bow, while Charlotte kept her attention aloft.

By the time the order to lay off was given, her neck ached from looking up so long. She dismissed the crew and midshipmen back to their regular duty stations and walked back to the wheelhouse with Duncan, just in time to see Kent follow Ned back into the big cabin.

“Should have known he’d find a way…” Duncan muttered, shaking his head and then turning his back on the cabin.

“Find a way, sir?” Charlotte picked up her log book to record the time and completion of reefing the sails.

“To try to get in good with the new captain. Captain Yates would never have allowed a mid to behave the way Kent does.”

No, Charlotte could well imagine that Collin would not have tolerated Kent’s antics. Nor would William. But Ned? She glanced at the closed door one more time. Though she guessed him to still be in his twenties, his experience as William’s first officer aboard
Alexandra
for the past few years gave her hope he would not fall for Kent’s flattery. Because she had a feeling that whatever Kent was planning to do to
retaliate against Charlotte for gaining a promotion, he was right now laying some of the groundwork by trying to win Ned over.

“Mr. Kent, please be seated.” Ned motioned the lad to take the chair on the opposite side of the table from him. Even after four days as captain
of Audacious,
Ned still felt more comfortable sitting along the side of the table rather than at the head.

The sharp-faced young man pulled out the chair and sat. “Congratulations on your promotion, Captain Cochrane. I am certain you will be a great asset to
Audacious
and her crew.”

Ned tapped his fingers on top of his leg—under the table where Kent would not see it. “Thank you, Mr. Kent. However, in the future you will please remember that you are not to speak freely unless given permission. Understood?”

The boy’s face turned nearly as pale as his white-blond hair. “Aye, sir.”

Ned folded his hands in his lap and concentrated on trying to appear relaxed. “I have been reading through Captain Parker’s logs and journal, and I came across several reports of incidents in which you were involved.”

Kent’s eyes narrowed, and his expression grew stony.

“Captain Parker seemed concerned that there was a division amongst the crew—between the men who served on
Audacious
under Captain Yates and those who came over with Captain Parker from his previous command. Would you say his observation is true, Mr. Kent?”

The boy’s adam’s apple bobbed a couple of times before he attempted an answer. “Aye, sir, I would say that is an accurate description of the crew. It has been difficult for those of us who came with Captain Parker—God rest his soul—to feel like we have been accepted by the
Audacious
crew. They have not been overly welcoming.”

“I see. Would you say that has been the attitude of the
Audacious
crew toward everyone new aboard, or just toward those who served with Captain Parker on
Lark
?”

Again, Kent hesitated briefly before responding. “I would have to say that it has been only toward those of us from
Lark,
sir.”

“Interesting.” Ned steepled his fingers and tapped his forefingers against his chin, as he had seen William do on many occasions. “Mr. Kent, the reason I asked you, specifically, to come in to talk about this issue is because I need to know that all of the officers and midshipmen on
Audacious
are of the same mind—that everyone aboard wants to be part of an organized, well-functioning crew in which there are no rivalries and no animosities between any of the members. I trust that you are someone who wants that as well.”

Kent looked as though he was about to be ill. “Aye, sir.”

“So we’ll have no more incidents of controversy between you and any of the other midshipmen or officers?” Ned struggled to keep his facial expression serious and not smile over the midshipman’s inability to mask his frustration.

“Aye, sir.”

“Very good. You may be dismissed, Mr. Kent.” Outside the door, eight bells chimed. “Pass word for Mr. Lott to come in.”

Kent hesitated at the mention of Lott’s name. “Aye, aye, sir.”

So that was how it went—bad blood between Kent and Lott. Parker’s journal entry had mentioned a few run-ins between the boys, culminating in disciplinary action against both of them, which had been extended for Kent.

Lott entered moments later, and Ned motioned him to sit in the chair Kent had vacated. Ned’s mind cast about for what it was that seemed so familiar about the boy, but he came up with nothing once again. Of course, the bruises obscuring the left side of Lott’s face would have made it hard for the boy’s own mother to recognize him now.

“Mr. Lott, I know you are aware that Mr. Kent was just in here with me. I would imagine you are also aware that you are mentioned in Captain Parker’s journal, along with the punishment you recently received along with Mr. Kent.”

Lott nodded. “Aye, sir.”

He half expected the boy to continue, to try to explain the circumstances, but the lad stayed quiet. Impressive. “Would you care to explain what happened that led to the punishment?”

“It was a misunderstanding between the two of us in the cockpit, sir.”

Ned raised his eyebrows. “A misunderstanding? From what I read in Captain Parker’s journal, Kent accused you of trying to poison him.”

The unbruised side of Lott’s face flushed pink. “I respectfully maintain, sir, that it stemmed from a misunderstanding.”

“Who do you think put the turpentine in your grog, then?” Ned leaned forward, fascinated by the boy’s unwillingness to make an accusation against Kent.

“I do not know, sir.”

In Ned’s experience, when a rivalry went both ways, given an opportunity like this, either participant would be only too happy to cast aspersions on his rival. Lott had proven himself to have a high sense of honor. Ned’s respect for the lad, and his determination to see him succeed, increased.

“Tell me, Mr. Lott, do you feel there is a division amongst the crew?”

“Aye, sir.”

“And have you, as a newcomer, felt that the crew of the
Audacious
—those who were here before Captain Parker came aboard with men from his previous ship—have made you feel unwelcomed?”

“Not at all, sir. It is—” Lott clamped his lips together and looked down at his lap.

With the concerns Howe had expressed back in Portsmouth, combined with inferences Ned had made from what Parker had
not
written in his journal, Ned now had a relatively clear understanding of why this crew had been plagued with disciplinary problems. Parker had recruited men who tended toward arrogance and entitlement. And when he had shown favoritism for them over Collin’s officers and crew, they had taken advantage.

“Mr. Lott, tell me, do you have brothers serving in the Royal Navy?” Ned had no idea where that question had come from, but he had to figure out how he knew this kid.

Even under the color from his contusions, it was almost alarming how pale Lott’s face turned. “Aye, sir.”

Ned leaned forward, intrigued by the unusual reaction. “Yes? Brothers in the Royal Navy?”

Lott’s shoulders drooped in an almost resigned movement. “Aye, sir. Brothers in the Royal Navy. Two still at sea, one now at home.”

Though he thought the information might help, he could not think of any other Lott he knew. Ah, well, he had several more weeks to try to figure it out. Back to the real reason for asking him to come in. “I trust you will work hard to ensure that the crew and officers of
Audacious
work well together and that there will be no more incidents.”

Lott nodded. “Aye, sir, to the best of my ability.”

“That is all I can ask. You may be dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir.” Lott slid both legs around and stood up beside his chair rather than simply pushing it back and stepping around it.

BOOK: Ransome's Crossing
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