Rondo Allegro (5 page)

Annoyance flooded through the captain, to be instantly
suppressed. His first impulse was to resent this girl for saddling him with an
obligation before they’d exchanged so much as a hundred words, but hard on that
thought came the memory of his own mother, when he was first sent away as a
midshipman. At the time he’d been impatient with her tears, her cries of, “But
how shall I know if you are alive, Henry, or in need? Letters can take so very
long, or become lost!”

He had to acknowledge that he had brought it upon himself;
though his question had the intent of a polite nothing, he
had
uttered the words.

And, he reflected, he need not bestir himself in the matter.
It was just the sort of business to keep a wag-tongued captain’s clerk busy.

Duncannon took out his pocketbook and carefully made a note.
No sooner had he pocketed it again when he spied those same lieutenants who had
interrupted the music with their infernal chatter, now sailing on an intercept
course. Long experience with their type caused him to correctly interpret their
expressions: they were intent on having some fun, and he was the target.

He knew he could thank his gabster of a clerk for that. “I
shall see to it,” he said to the girl, and bowed. “I cry pardon, but there is
someone with whom I must speak.” A few long strides brought him squarely athwart
the lieutenants’ line-of-battle.

Here, he forced the prospective engagement to a standstill,
using his superior height and rank to keep them firmly on the topic of the
king’s entertainment until at last they took their leave, signaling to one
another with a shrug and a lift of brows awareness of their having been
thoroughly
rompéed
.

They sailed off in search of more congenial entertainment,
leaving the captain alone . . . and the young lady was nowhere
in sight.

He cursed under his breath. He had no idea where in this
benighted barrack he might locate her, or whom to trust to fetch her. Once
again he had been foiled in his design, and the hour was advancing. The tide
would not wait.

He walked out into the night air, determined to shed his
ire. The matter could wait a week or two, after all. He was not seriously
discommoded outside of wishing the business over so he could forget it had ever
occurred. He never intended to marry. The devil fly away with all women and
their grasping ways!

‘All women’ usually wearing one face, and one name: Emily
Elstead.

“What did he say?” Parrette asked, hands clasped tightly.

Anna repeated the entire conversation, and ended with, “He
wrote Michel’s name in his pocketbook.”

“He wrote Michel’s name?” At a stroke of the pencil, this
man had separated himself out from the generality of his worthless sex, though
she was afraid to let herself hope beyond that.

“He did.”

“We shall see if that means anything,” Parrette said
cautiously.

“I must go, for the maestro sent for me,” Anna said.

Parrette sighed. Now that the fete was over, the servants
faced the monumental task of cleanup. Although, strictly speaking, she, as the
maidservant to a lady, was exempt from the worst of the labor, there had been a
long time in her life when such labor was expected. She was not afraid of work,
and she had found that willingness to turn her hand not only earned goodwill
from her fellow servants, but furnished the opportunity to hear vital news.

Anna repaired to the music chamber. She knew from experience
not to expect unstinting praise, so she was not surprised to find Maestro
Paisiello beetling his brows at her as he said, “You did well enough
considering the stupefying heat, and those evil vapors, but my dear Anna, you
were weak. You are too thin!” he declared, poking himself in the chest. “Can
your sound resonate through so flimsy a frame? Would you perform upon a violin
made of paper? No! I want you to sing the angel’s part in my new opera, but you
are going to have to work on your breathing to lift that voice. And you must
eat.” He banged his baton on his music stand in emphasis.

Anna left the maestro after her lesson, determined to throw
herself back into her music. It was the only way to fill in the hole in her
life left by her Papa, and to cease the chatter of questions she could not
answer about this marriage that felt as substantial as a mirage.

A week turned into a month. At its end she received a
summons from the legation. There, instead of being conducted to Lady Hamilton,
she was met by the lady’s chief maid, who passed her a letter, directed
correctly to ‘Mrs. Duncannon.’

“It was included in the dispatches for the admiral,” the
maid said with a meaningful glance whose message entirely escaped Anna. Her
thoughts were on this, her very first letter.

The words ‘Mrs. Duncannon’ made her heart give an odd gallop.
She felt very unlike herself, as if someone wished her to play a part off the
stage, instead of on.

Aboard the Danae:

Mrs. Duncannon: Pray inform your Mrs. Duflot that I sent out an
inquiry, and have today rec’d notice that one ‘Michael Deflew’ serves aboard
the sloop-of-war Pallas. He is about the right age. I have no more to offer
than this.

I had hoped to wait upon you to settle our Affairs, but I find
I am directed to join Martin in Genoa in support of Field-Marshal Sovarov. When
duty permits, I shall do myself the honor of waiting upon you; I trust by then
that you will have been called upon by Mr. Jones, who promised to execute our
Mutual legal Interests.

I conclude in wishing you good Health and happiness,

Yr. ob’d s’vt, H. Duncannon.

Anna took the letter to Parrette, and handed it over wordlessly.

Parrette made out the letters slowly, for English, with its
impossible spelling, was difficult for her to read. Neither Parrette nor Anna
paid the least heed to the words about ‘mutual legal interests,’ legalities of
any sort lying entirely outside their experience. Their attention was entirely
consumed with the astonishing news that Michel had been found, after years of
not knowing.

“Captain Duncannon is an angel,” Parrette proclaimed, threw
her apron over her head, and wept.

o0o

As the days turned into weeks, and thence months, during
which no notes followed that first one, Parrette took to winnowing out news
through her usual labyrinthine methods. It was she, and not Anna, who
discovered that Duncannon had been sent to Minorca to aid in keeping the strait
free, and finally to Gibraltar, as Lord St. Vincent, who was gravely ill, had
sailed home, to be replaced by Lord Keith. There was no word of the
Pallas
, which seemed to belong to
another fleet.

Parrette also discovered through the same sources that the
whispers about Admiral Nelson and Lady Hamilton had become general gossip, and
further, that Lord Keith was not pleased at all with Nelson, and far from
granting various commissions, favors, and requests, had sent orders to the
admiral to quit Naples.

Anna was too busy to think about those things, except at a
distant remove. The royal family demanded entertainment, and entertainment they
must have. The more unsettled the world due to French invasions and various
nations fighting back and forth, the more people seemed to want the escape of
music, plays, and operas. Anna was happiest singing, with the added benefit
that it did not leave her time to grieve. She had a goal, to sing her very
first major role, which meant hard work under the maestro’s exacting eye.

Then one morning Parrette woke Anna with the news, “Admiral
Nelson is to set sail to join Lord Keith.”

Anna mentally shrugged. Though she admired Admiral Lord
Nelson, as everyone did, she had never been close enough to speak a word to
him, and his doings seemed very distant from hers. But she had grown up under
Parrette’s daily care. She knew all the maid’s expressions. “I think you are
displeased.”

“It is not my place to be displeased or not, signorina.
Mais alors . . .
”

“Mais alors?”
Anna
prompted.

Parrette had folded her wiry arms in the way Anna had learnt
indicated the maid was in possession of an article of news of which she did not
approve.

Parrette struggled within herself, and finally said slowly
and reluctantly, “It seems to come about due to these whispers concerning the
admiral and Lady Hamilton. Lord Keith is reputed to be displeased with the
admiral.”

Anna looked surprised. “But why? Is he not a hero? Oh, I
think I have heard something or other. But I never paid it much heed. Lady
Hamilton is kind and generous to everyone.”

Parrette understood Anna’s loyalty to her benefactress, for
she now felt the same about Duncannon. Others might worship Nelson, but he was
nothing compared the man who had become
The
Captain
in her mind. “I thought it my duty to tell you what is being said,
but more important, the result is, the fleet might be sent away for a long
period. And if the legate is recalled, because of what is whispered about his
wife, you may find yourself in a difficult position.”

“But surely the maestro would pay no attention to rumors,”
Anna protested.

Parrette sighed. “You do not understand. It is the Hamiltons
who have arranged for our wherewithal. Maestro Paisiello, while in every way a
fine man, a genius, he still must depend upon the royal family for his pension.
Do you think they will extend their generosity to you, if the Hamiltons do not
take you with them?”

“They did for Papa,” Anna said slowly.

“But he was a master violinist. The singers are paid by the
piece, and unless you gain a primary role, it is scarcely enough to live on.
More to the point, if you were known to be earning even a minuscule stipend,
you would be ruined.
English
ladies
in good society do not earn their livings in this way, you know that! Your Mama
taught you to be a lady.”

“Then we cannot depend upon Lady Hamilton?” Anna asked.

“She might not be in a position to be depended upon, if the
rumors are true.
Fi donc!
There is
nothing to be done except to live very carefully, and wait until The Captain either
sends someone to fetch you, or his Mr. Jones he mentioned in his letter arrives
to make arrangements.”

Anna spoke assent, but mentally added,
And practice my music
.

o0o

At first, all problems appeared to be solved when the
admiral returned in triumph after having won a spectacular battle against the
French man-of-war
Genereux
. But a
great portion of his fleet, including Captain Duncannon, remained at sea at the
other end of the Mediterranean, and hard on that came the astounding news that
Sir William had been recalled to London.

Everybody and everything was in an uproar.

Parrette kept her worries behind closed lips until she was
told by the palace steward that the legation was soon to depart, and Anna must
either depart with them, or find somewhere else to live. No, there was no Mr.
Jones at the legation, and never had been.

Anna, on hearing that, ran straight to the legate’s house,
where she spent the rest of the day in a crowded antechamber waiting for an
interview.

It was very late that night when at last Lady Hamilton’s
maid summoned her to the lady’s powder room. While Lady Hamilton clasped
diamonds at her throat and ears, and her personal maid finished arranging her
hair, Anna explained what the steward had said.

Lady Hamilton looked sorrowful. “My dear, there is simply
nothing to be done! Here, take this.” She unclasped the bracelet from her arm,
and handed it to Anna. “Alas, Sir William’s affairs are all in a muddle, and
his health is wretched. This is one reason why the dear Admiral has generously
offered to carry him, and of course myself, as his devoted nurse, on a
repairing cruise to Malta. Once Sir William has regained his strength, Queen
Maria Carolina is pressing him to keep his promise of conveying the royal
family from Palermo to Leghorn. We are already too crowded. There is not an
inch of room to spare! If you have not yet heard from your captain, why do you
not speak to the queen about an appointment? I am truly sorry, but even dear
Lord Nelson can do little at present, not with Lord Keith as his most
determined enemy.”

Anna departed tired and worried. When she reached the
palace, Parrette was sitting by their single window with her sewing.

Once Anna had related the news, Parrette said firmly, “You
must write to The Captain.”

“But he is so far away,” Anna said. “And we have heard
nothing at all. I have been thinking. It seems to me that he has forgotten.”
She sighed, then admitted, “I was listening to the talk while I waited, and it
seems some of these captains are not all they should be. Who is to say that he
has not done as M. Duflot did? Perhaps he already possesses a wife somewhere
impossibly far away, such as Scotland?”

Parrette bit her lip. One of the many sins that her wretch
of a husband had committed, she had discovered before she left France, was that
he had another wife in Marseilles. Anna had learnt that by accident, before her
parents discovered how much Italian she understood. “I think you owe it to him
to report that the Hamiltons have abandoned you. He made a promise before God.
It is his duty to keep it.”

“I will write to him, but I’ll also talk to Maestro
Paisiello,” Anna said. “I would as lief work in the theater at any event.”

“No,” Parrette stated, her arms crossed. “You promised
Signora Eugenia you would never stoop to taking wages in the theater. A lady
cannot do that, especially in England.”

Anna nodded slowly, thinking of the horrid things that she
had read in Mama’s cherished English newspapers about Mrs. Billington, the
great soprano, who earned her living as a singer. Then she crossed her arms,
mirroring Parrette’s own gesture. “It seems I am not
going
to England. I must live somewhere, and on what?”