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Roses and gardenias were everywhere, their blossoms giving off a faint odor which seemed to drape across the light breeze. Another servant, a doorman, opened a pair of large ornate doors. As the three entered the room Anthony whispered, “Watch what you drink. These island brews will put a man’s ‘arse hole over tea kettle before he knows it.” Buck and Gabe nodded their acknowledgment, as each was wide-eyed at the splendid dwelling before them.

The room was awash in music and conversation until the door was opened. The sound hushed suddenly as another servant announced, “Lord Gilbert Anthony, Knight of the Bath, commanding his majesty’s frigate
Drakkar.”

Anthony suddenly felt self-conscious, as if he were on public display. However, no sooner had the introduction been given than the room was roaring again. The commodore was coming to greet him. Gabe, he noticed, had already been encircled by a group of bare shouldered young ladies. No doubt he was calculating his chance of ridding himself of some pent-up humors.

Anthony turned and whispered to Buck before the commodore reached them, “I expect all officers to be back on board by four bells on the morning watch.”

“Aye, sir,” Buck replied.

Anthony introduced Buck to Commodore Gardner, and then allowed him to wander off in search of a possible “prize” for the evening. The air in the large room was hot and humid. The noise, candles, and body heat from all the mingling guests made it almost oppressive. No wonder the ladies all had small fans and were busily waving them.

Greta, Commodore Gardner’s wife, approached her friend, Lady Deborah McKean. She had been standing in a small vestibule taking in the festivities before her, but her eyes never wandering far before they returned to the British naval captain who commanded the ship which had rescued her.

Greta, watching her friend’s gaze, volunteered, “A striking man isn’t he? Not overly handsome but he is so commanding he makes you look twice. I felt my heart skip when we were introduced.”

Touching Greta’s hand, Lady Deborah seemed to tremble.

“A touch of humors,” her friend asked.

“No, it’s just that… that, well Greta, we’ve had no secrets between you and me. I don’t want to be disloyal to the memory of Lord McKean, but I feel like… like a young girl when I’m close to Captain Anthony. I think I’ve found the man I could love.”

Greta was touched by her friend’s admission, but not surprised. She had known the marriage between Deborah and Lord McKean had been an arrangement. Greta took the glass of wine from her friend’s hand and turned her so they were facing each other.

“Deborah, you listen to me. Lord McKean was a good man, but he’s dead. Life is short and out here in the islands it’s shorter still. You deserve some happiness in your life. Go to him. Let him know how you feel. We
can’t be assured of tomorrow so live it for today and to hell with the rest. Besides, some other devilish imp will get her clutches on him if you wait. Now go to him now and let him know how you feel. I’ll help arrange a discreet meeting later.”

Anthony could not for the life of him remember half of the guests the commodore introduced to him. Never had he shaken so many hands or bowed to so many ladies in one evening. Nor could he remember drinking so much. Scarcely had his glass been emptied before it was refilled, or replaced. Anthony’s officers were all being entertained like conquering heroes. Much was made of the pirates murdering Lord McKean, and
Drakkar’s
sudden arrival. Turning, Anthony spied Buck in deep conversation with a boldly dressed woman. Her bosom was so open it scarcely left anything to the imagination.

Anthony felt a hand on his upper arm. Turning, he felt like the room was spinning. She was here standing before him. He felt his chest tighten.

“Lady McKean.”

“Lord Anthony.” She was dressed in black, but still she was here.

“I’m very pleased to see you,” Anthony said. “I was not sure you would be here, considering all you’ve been through.”

Lady McKean looked at Anthony, and he was not quite sure how to take her next words. “But sir, you are my rescuer. This reception is in your honor. How could I not be present?” They had moved toward an open window in search of a little breeze. “Did you know my husband?”

Anthony was caught off guard, “Madam?”

“Did you know my husband?” she asked again.

“No, my lady, I never had the honor.”

“Lord McKean was of Scottish descent. He came from a titled family of long standing. Titled, but impoverished. Ours was an arranged marriage. My father was a tradesman—a rich, powerful tradesman, but still a tradesman. Being a tradesman meant he wasn’t completely accepted as a gentleman. This pained my father. He wanted a son, but he had a daughter. He hoped that by my marriage to Lord McKean, he would have titled grandsons. We had a son but lost him to the fever. I’ve had no others. Now my son, my father, and my husband are all gone. When we were attacked, we were headed to Barbados to meet some of my husband’s friends. They were giving him a birthday party. His seventy-fifth.”

Anthony was astounded. Thinking aloud he said, “He was old enough to be your father.”

“One year younger than my father,” she replied. I was never quite sure if the reason we didn’t have any children was my fault or his. But at his age I felt it might have been his.’’

Anthony didn’t know what to say about this discovery but muttered, “Did you love him?”

Lady McKean looked somewhat hurt, “As I said, ours was an arranged marriage. But after a fashion, I guess I did. He was a good and caring man. He dearly loved me, and so I tried to make him happy. I was faithful.”

“Dear God! I should he ashamed of myself,” Anthony said. “I have no right.”

“You have every right, Gil,” Lady McKean said using his given name. “My dashing captain, sweeping down with cannons blazing away. You have all the right.”

Anthony half heard the bell. Dinner was being called, and he could feel the guests closing in.

“I have to see you!”

“I’ll send you a message,” she replied.

Then they were caught up in the crowd headed to the dining room. Looking for his place card, Anthony realized that the admiral was not present. Anthony was seated to the right of Commodore Gardner, and to the left was Harvey, the admiral’s flag captain. He looked at Anthony and said, “Sir Lawrence is ill this evening and sends his regrets.”

Commodore Gardner made a little speech once again honoring Anthony and the men of
Drakkar
for their bravery and wishing them future success. A toast was then made to recognize Anthony’s broad pennant. Then the meal was over. No further contact with Lady McKean had been possible.

As the more senior officers took their leave from the ladies to enjoy cigars and discuss the situation with the pirates, Anthony observed Gabe, then Buck, as each departed. Each man left with a beautiful lady on his arm, creating a touch of envy in him. Mr. Markham was much in his cups and was in tow with Mr. Earl. Hopefully they’d make it back to
Drakkar
safely.

“Well, Lord Anthony, we hope you enjoyed your evening.” Mrs. Gardner, the commodore’s wife, was speaking.

“Er—yes, madam. It was a wonderful evening. Thank you for being such a wonderful hostess.”

“Not at all, sir. We must thank you for bringing a little excitement into our lives.”

As Anthony took Mrs. Gardner’s offered hand he felt her press a small slip of paper into his hand. He continued his bow and kissed the back of her hand. As Anthony straightened, he thought he caught a wink from Mrs. Gardner.

“I do hope you have a rewarding time while you are at English harbor, sir.”

“Thank you again,” Anthony said. Then he turned to bid the commodore goodnight.

“Could we lunch tomorrow, Gil?”

“It would be a pleasure, sir,” Anthony responded, then walked out into the night. It was warm outside, but still much cooler than it had been inside the house.

Bart was standing beside the coach as Anthony approached. “It’s not over far to the jetty, sir, if you care to stretch your legs. I has yer pipe and Dagan gave me some good smelling tobaccy.”

“Good idea, Bart,” Anthony said, taking the pipe. Bart had already filled the bowl so he lit up and they started their journey down the hill.

“Ye seems to be in a good mood tonight, sir. It appears things are to ya ‘likin’.”

“Aye, Bart, that it is. This island may have some promise to it.”

Bart looked at Anthony. “I left Dagan at the jetty. We ‘ad us a wet or two together and now he’s waiting on Gabe.”

“Might be a long wait,” Anthony answered.

“Nay, sir. Dagan says ‘ell be along in an hour.”

“He does, does he?”

“Aye,” Bart said. “Dagan also
said we’d be seeing some big changes in you soon.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes sir!”

“Any specifics?”

“No, sir. I didn’t ask and ‘e didn’t laborate.”

Anthony looked at Bart smiling, “You mean he didn’t elaborate.”

“Nay, sir, ‘e didn’t laborate a’tall.”

Anthony took another puff on his pipe, tasting the gentle sweetness of Dagan’s tobacco. He watched as the smoke drifted on the wind, the aroma of the tobacco intermingling with the smell of salt in the air. Watching the smoke rise and fade away as he exhaled, Anthony pondered Dagan’s predictions. Could it have anything to do with the paper in his pocket? Could Dagan really see the future? Was he a soothsayer?

F
our bells in the forenoon watch the next day found Anthony, his officers, warrants and midshipmen gathered around his dining table for a meeting. Silas, with the help of a wardroom servant, was pouring lime juice as refreshment. Anthony nodded to Buck to go ahead and start with the meeting. Buck shuffled some papers around, then stepped forward.

“With Commodore Gardner and Captain Harvey’s help, I’ve been able to round up forty-odd hands. With the likelihood that Sir Lawrence will haul down his flag soon, we might pick up a few more sailors who have married and put down roots here. The two schooners are so alike I take them to be sister ships built by the same shipyard. Mr. Earl, you will have command of
LeFoxxe
. Mr. Anthony will be your second. Mr. Pitts, you will take over the second lieutenant’s duties here on
Drakkar
.

Pitts couldn’t hide his disappointment. He’d been hoping to get command of one of the schooners. He did manage a “thank you, sir.’’

“The schooner,
LeCroix
, will
be given to Lieutenant Mainard. Sir Lawrence is sending him to us. He was the first lieutenant on one of the brigs that ran around chasing pirates. It was the Admiral’s way of saying that no blame should be directed to the young lieutenant for the brig loss. The captain was killed when the damned pirates came about and poured a broadside into the brig even after she had ran up on the reef. “No mercy, no quarter.” Buck turned to Mr. Markham. “You, young sir, will be Lieutenant Mainard’s second. Each ship will have reliable, seasoned hands from
Drakkar
dispersed
among its crew. Now the schooners have been through the prize court, so they’re waiting on you to go aboard and take charge. However, it’s important that you remember these may only be temporary commands. The admiralty still has to confirm your appointments, but with Commodore Anthony and Sir Lawrence’s recommendations I see no reason the commands will not be confirmed. However, more than one has gone arse hole over tea kettle and lost his command.”

This drew smiles and Earl volunteered, “We won’t embarrass our new commodore or
Drakkar
, sir. We’re very proud of the trust you’ve placed in us.”

“Here, here,” said the group in unison.

“Now sirs,” Buck started up again, “You have a week to make your ships ready to sail.” Buck noticed a hand go up. “Yes, Mr. Davy?”

“Sir, can I hoist the broad pennant, sir?”

Everyone laughed.

Anthony then spoke up. “Of course you can, Mr. Davy, of course you can.” He then turned his attentions to the rest of the gathered group. “Well that about sums it up, gentlemen. Ours is a difficult task, but I know each of you will do his duty.”

As the group made its way out of Anthony’s quarters, Bart entered. Most spoke a word or two with the wiry cox’n. When Bart had Anthony’s eye, he said, “Gig’s ready, sir. Time for your meeting with Commodore Gardner.”

Anthony nodded to Bart, and then beckoned to Buck.

“I may not he back on board tonight. If I’m delayed as I expect, I’ll send Bart back with instructions as to where I can be reached.”

As Anthony departed, Buck stared at his back, his mouth agape. “Better close your trap before you choke
on flies,” the master said jokingly. Buck closed his mouth and swallowed. “What do you think has got into our ‘ere commodore?”

“Well, sir, I ain’t sure. But were I a betting man, I’d lay odds our commodore has been smitten by that new widow woman.”

“Lady Deborah McKean?” Buck asked.

“Aye, sir. That’s the one.”

***

Anthony was fidgety all during his lunch with the commodore. Anticipating his meeting with Lady Deborah, he kept glancing at his watch. Though time seemed to drag on forever, lunch only lasted one hour. Commodore Gardner had proved a jovial host. However, from the start of their meal it was obvious he was starved for news from England. The commodore quizzed Anthony not only about news from the Admiralty, but he also wanted to hear the latest gossip, rumors and politics. The meeting did get interesting when the subject of the colonies was brought up. He even appeared to sympathize with the colonies and their cause. When Anthony remarked on his comments the commodore explained.

“Out here we’re separated from England. We’ve come to depend on the colonies for half of our supplies. I’m a personal friend with a number of merchants and ship owners. They’ve stayed in my house, and I’ve been a guest in theirs. We’ve discussed the unfair taxes and trade practices our Parliament has placed upon the Colonials. I’ve watched as the crown’s demands have grown. We’ve pushed till their backs are against the wall. Oh, I know my duty all right, but I wish Parliament’s decisions were made in the boardrooms and not the
bedrooms. Damn the French and the Dagos. However, fighting the Colonials is like fighting our friends and neighbors. We’ll suffer, Gil. Mark my word… England will suffer.”

***

Anthony looked up as he came down the steps at Government house. Bart was standing there under some palm trees with two horses. He was waiting, but without any degree of enthusiasm. Anthony and Bart had ridden many times, but neither was comfortable on a horse’s back. The “note” Anthony had been given by the commodore’s wife the previous evening instructed the use of horses rather than a carriage, in that they were less conspicuous. The unsigned note also included a time and a set of directions—nothing further. A signed note could have been damaging and scandalous if it fell into the wrong hands. Nevertheless, Anthony had known the author from the time it was placed in his hand. The anticipated meeting caused both excitement and apprehension.

Anthony had never courted a proper “lady.” He had had his share of women over the years but they were different, much different. As he and Bart made their way, Anthony took in the view and tranquillity of the peaceful island. The sea and the sky seemed to merge. Off in the distance, he could see a small island and Potter’s Cay
.
A gentle wind blew through the palm trees, and birds floated lazily on the air. Anthony and Bart were upon their destination before either realized it. Each had been content to absorb the sun and take in the sights.

The house was more of a summer cottage. It had a large porch that wrapped around three sides. The front
room was a large parlor. A breezeway separated the main part of the house from the kitchen and the servant’s quarters. A small stable and outbuildings were behind the house.

As Anthony dismounted, Lady Deborah stepped out of the cottage onto the porch. “You can put the horses out back,” she said.

Bart took Anthony’s horse and questioned, “Do you want me to wait, sir?”

“No,” Anthony replied. “It may be a long wait.” Bart didn’t fail to notice the twinkle in Anthony’s eyes as he spoke. Anthony took a couple of guineas from his pocket and gave ‘em to the cox’n. “Enjoy a drink or two before you return to the ship. I’d think it amiss if you made it before the last dog watch.”

“Aye, sir. I’ll have a wet and maybe a little something extra.” Then he was gone.

Turning back to Lady Deborah, Anthony realized that as lovely as the countryside was, it dulled in comparison to the beauty of the woman standing before him. She was wearing a simple gown of emerald green made of a lightweight gauze material. A slight wind blew at her hair and molded the gown to her body, giving ample proof of the woman beneath the cloth. The scene reminded Anthony of a sculpture of a Greek goddess. He felt his breath quicken and blurted, “My God, Lady Deborah. You are beautiful.”

Lady Deborah smiled as she reached for his hand and led him into the cottage. “Please,” she said, “There must be no formality between us. Let it be Deborah and Gil.”

As they sat down for refreshments, Anthony realized Deborah was pouring lemonade for the two of them. That meant she had sent the servants away. After
finishing their refreshments Deborah came over to

Anthony’s chair.

“You must think me a wanton woman,” she said.

“Nonsense,” he replied. “You have created in me a feeling I’ve neven felt before. I felt it from the moment you came aboard
Drakkar
. I feel it even more now. You make me feel…alive. It may be shameless of me, but I have to tell you for the first time in my life I feel out of control.”

“Oh, Gil,’’ she responded, then she was in his arms. Everything else was a blur. He kissed her…long and passionately. She responded with a hungry kiss of her own. His hand found her breast and she pulled it tight to her. His lips were on her face, neck and then to her chest and finally her breast.

***

Anthony awoke at dawn and they made love again. As he dressed, Anthony gazed at Deborah as she sat up in bed. “Do you know how hard it is for me to leave with you sitting there like that?”

“Obviously not too difficult,” she answered. “You continue to dress.”

“But not with my usual vigor, my love,” he replied, putting on his boots. “When can I see you publicly?”

Deborah took a moment before she responded. “A year is the usual time for mourning, but out here we could get by with six months.”

“Six months—damme that
is a long time. I want to be with you every minute I can.”

Smiling, she said, “Then you’ll have to be content to slip into my bedroom and force your desires on me.” “Besides,” she continued, “it must be kept discreet from all, save Greta.”

“Who is Greta?” interrupted Anthony.

“The commodore’s wife,” Deborah explained.

He was right. They were confidants.

“Anyway,” Deborah continued again, “Greta tells me you’re getting
Drakkar
and those little ships ready and will be sailing soon.”

Anthony nodded. He suddenly felt depressed at the thought of leaving Deborah so soon after he’d found her.

Sensing his mood, Deborah left the bed and came to him. He hugged her close, feeling her bosom and stomach drawn tightly against him. Their kiss was long and loving.

Deborah could feel the roughness of his uniform against her body. She could make out the faint odor of tar mixed with salt. These were odors of her sailor, her love.

“Don’t worry, my darling,” she said, “I’ll always be here waiting when you return.”