Breaking the Line Read Online Free PDF

his job, also, to ensure that every penny pledged was properly accounted for: his personal credit was at stake and he operated for his profit on a small margin. A minor error in the accounts might be picked up by an Admiralty clerk, which would cost him dear. A major miscalculation would see him ruined.
    Nelson had to account for every pound spent, too, and there was always a difference between what the Admiralty considered proper expenditure and that which any admiral on station needed to spend.With the well-being of his sailors his paramount concern, Nelson used money with a prodigality that prompted a steady flow of censorious correspondence. Sums expended months, even years before, in storms, battles or even on a calm day in port, had to be explained to an official who sat close by a fire at work and had his home to go to at night. That sailors at sea might want for some comfort was none of this fellow’s concern.
    ‘Lady Hamilton is preparing to come aboard, sir. Captain Hardy has undertaken to greet her on the quarterdeck.’
    Immersed in his letters, the name shocked Nelson. He looked up at the midshipman who had brought the message, dying to ask him if Sir William was in attendance – but, of course, he could not be, or his name would have been announced. No one else had been announced either, which implied that Emma had come alone. Why had Hardy sent for him so swiftly? He looked at Tyson, who seemed intent on keeping his head down, like a man who knew something and feared eye contact. Nelson grabbed his hat and left. Tyson exchanged a glance with Tom Allen, which confirmed for him the truth of a rumour that had been flying around the fleet since before they left Naples.
    That every man aboard was privy to that rumour was obvious as Lady Hamilton made her way up the companionway to the quarterdeck. As always aboard a square-rigger tied up to a mole, a mass of work was being carried out. Blocks and pulleys were being greased, ropes spliced or replaced, sails hung out to air, men below with vinegar soused the ’tween decks, with hatches open to let in some air. Under the supervision of the gunner, the cannon and the gun carriages were being serviced, while other men worked on the breechings that held them to the side of the ship. The carpenter and his mates were hacking out damaged wood and replacing it with new timber. Men were over the side with paint, the smell of which mixed with the tar used to caulk new planking, crane parties were hauling aboard supplies while water barrels were being scrubbed clean for refilling. The pace of that work slowed perceptibly, since everyone had one eye cast towards the quarterdeck to see Captain Hardy and the officer of the watch raise their hats to the visitor. When Nelson came on deck, his haste to greet the lady was plain to see. His sailors were too shrewd to murmur approval when he, hat off, kissed her proffered hand, but there were many satisfied sighs and nods – mixed with the odd snort from those who saw a broken commandment.
    ‘Lady Hamilton,’ said Nelson, ‘you have come alone?’
    Emma spoke in a clear voice, easy to hear over what was now a silent ship. ‘I need neither companion nor chaperone to visit such a close friend.’
    Suddenly the air was full of shouting as the officers, petty, warrant and commissioned, realised that HMS Vanguard was quieter than a church hosting a funeral. Now each worker sought to assure those in authority that if all the other fellows had been curious, he had not, which created a great babble of noise that made Nelson laugh.
    Hardy was blushing, while the officer of the watch made himself as frantically busy as everyone else close by: they all wished to pretend they had not seen confirmed what they had all suspected. Nelson might not be a good reader of social signs ashore but he knew his sailors too well to be fooled. What he had thought secret had been, if not common knowledge, certainly a shared suspicion.
    Emma leaned a