Breaking the Line Read Online Free PDF Page B

fraction closer. ‘Have I missed something, Nelson?’
    ‘No, my dear,’ he replied in a soft voice. ‘I fear you have just confirmed something.’
     
    ‘I should be angry with you, Emma. You were flitting about last night in the most obvious way and you must have considered the consequences of coming aboard my ship without a companion.’
    She was lying along the cushions on the footlockers, her head in his lap, looking up, green eyes squinting as the sun sparkled on the panes of the casement windows. ‘Why consider what I do not fear to be known?’ she asked.
    ‘Discretion?’ he asked.
    ‘Is for mere mortals, not the Hero of the Nile – the Hero of the Nation is nearer the truth.’
    ‘Please!’
    She sat up, her face close and level with his. ‘You are that, Nelson, though it does you credit that you seem to be the only man unaware of it.’
    Nelson wanted to admonish Emma and tell her that what might pass in the confines of a villa would not pass in the street or on a naval deck. But what he had sensed on his own deck not ten minutes before prevented that. Though he could never be brought to admit it, Nelson had a preternatural knowledge of mood, a most essential attribute in a commander. He could sense discontent merely by walking the deck: it was in the cast of a shoulder or the avoidance of an eye, in the bearing of a midshipman or ship’s boy. A happy ship was a fighting ship and, while he would not step too far outside therules of his profession, he was prepared to push them to whatever limit was required to look after his officers and crew. There was a warm glow in his breast at the thought that his men were pleased for him. There would be those not happy, men who hated the sin, but he had felt a wave of affection at the moment he had kissed Emma’s hand.
    ‘It is not uncommon,’ Emma asked, ‘for officers to have their wives aboard, is it?’
    ‘Unusual, my dear, but not uncommon. Thomas Freemantle rarely sails anywhere without his beloved Betsy.’
    ‘A lady who is young and lively?’
    ‘Very! A beauty and a favourite of every officer who knows her husband.’
    Her face was very close to his now. ‘I was just wondering … Where do they … Captain Freemantle and his Betsy … you know …?’
    ‘Emma, you are shameless.’
    She giggled. ‘I do hope so.’
     
    An hour later, dressed and with all repaired, Nelson and Emma strode the decks as he explained the function of each article needed in the construction of a fighting ship. As he talked, or introduced her to some sailor or petty officer, Nelson watched their faces, pleased that there was no hint of a blush anywhere. He was used to the way the midshipmen dogged his footsteps, but the open admiration for Emma in the faces of these boys cheered him.
    A woman who had never lost sight of her original station in life, Emma was not the type to play the grande dame. In fact she had the same ease in common company as Nelson, and beauty enough to win over anyone whose heart might waver at the thought of her being their hero’s paramour. Thus their progress was one of pleasant asides, smiles, much doffing of sailors’ caps and officers’ hats.
    The fellow stapled to the foredeck by locked leg irons had such sad eyes that he touched Emma’s heart and she pleaded for him to be released. Nelson pointed out quietly that he had no rights in the matter, that discipline aboard his flagship was the province of Captain Hardy and his officers. Also, he had no idea what the miscreant had done. It was some minor offence for sure, like getting drunk or losing his hammock: Thomas Hardy was somewhat stricter in matters of discipline than Nelson, and did not shy from rigging the grating for a flogging as often as he considered it necessary.
    ‘Then I shall ask Captain Hardy for clemency,’ Emma insisted. ‘I cannot abide that on a day when I am so happy anyone should be in discomfort.’
    Nelson stopped and said, with some force though he was still