Hostile Shores Read Online Free PDF Page B

followed the man aft; Whatever happened to something “wet” in the great-cabins? Christ, what a fashion-plate!
    Lewrie beheld an officer about one inch taller than his own five feet nine inches, a man whom women might find devilishly and rakishly handsome, but for a long beak of a nose, down which this Grierson peered at the new arrival. Grierson wore his best-dress uniform coat with all the gold lace and twin epaulets and buttons gleaming. Despite the warmth of the day, the coat was doubled over his chest, perhaps to show off the two vertical rows of nine buttons each side, and the expensive width of the lace edgings. There was an expensive and ornate watch fob hung below the waist of the coat, which was cut a bit higher than most. Grierson also wore snow-white breeches of the finest duck, breeches so white that they might never have seen tar, slush, or saltwater washes. The breeches were so snug that it appeared Grierson was sewed into them, or greased up beforehand. The shiny black boots were not Hessians like most officers wore, but more like top-boots minus the brown-leather upper band. And Grierson sported a fore-and-aft bicorne hat like a French general!
    His neck-stock’s starched and ironed, by God! Lewrie took note; What a fop! Don’t he know ye get dirty on ships?
    Conversely, Captain Henry Grierson did not much care for what he saw of Captain Lewrie, either. The plain coat and hat, with gold lace epaulets slowly turning green from exposure to salt airs, the slightly curved and plain-hilted hanger at his hip instead of a small-sword of value, combined with a silk shirt and fresh neck-stock seemed paradoxical. And the old style of that plain hat!
    “Alan Lewrie, reporting aboard, sir,” Lewrie said, doffing his hat once more, a few feet away from Grierson.
    “Sir Alan, I presume,” Grierson said in a drawl with one brow up as he doffed his own in carefully studied welcome.
    “Only on good days, sir,” Lewrie japed and grinned.
    Grierson took note of the faint scar on Lewrie’s cheek, paler than his dark tan, and wondered where it had come from. This Lewrie fellow, Grierson determined, was a rather handsome and well set up chap, handsome enough to raise his hackles when confronted by one who could be considered a rival in Society. If only this Lewrie would bear himself more gravely! Why, he appeared to be the unlikeliest “Merry Andrew”, for all the repute that Lt. Hayes had imparted!
    “My word, Captain Lewrie,” Grierson said as he put his fore-and-aft bicorne back on, the front so low to his eyes that he just naturally had to cock his head back and look down his nose, “your welcome to the Bahamas was most war-like. One could conjure that you would have crossed my line and raked my leading frigates, ha ha!”
    “Until you hoisted British colours, I would have, sir,” Lewrie told him with a serious and level expression.
    “With a lone frigate and three little cockleshells?” Grierson asked with a loud laugh. “Whatever did you think to accomplish?”
    “The rumour was that you were a French squadron,” Lewrie said with a shrug. “I was prepared to defend Nassau at all hazards, sir.”
    “If we had been French, you would have been swatted aside in a trice!” Grierson said with another dis-believing laugh, sweeping one arm to encompass his warships, and all their immense firepower.
    “Well, we might’ve gotten in a blow or two, sir,” Lewrie said in reply, irked at Grierson’s dismissive airs, “but, we would have done our duty to the very last. It’s what England expects.”
    Grierson clapped his hands into the small of his back and gave Lewrie a high-nosed glare, as if he’d never heard the like. Out of the corner of his eyes, Lewrie espied a Lieutenant standing nearby who allowed himself an approving nod, and turned to whisper “Ram-Cat” to Captain Meadows.
    “Well, at any rate, such neck-or-nothing was not necessary, so all’s well,” Grierson concluded. “It would appear,