The Seahorse Read Online Free PDF Page B

to fellow classmates at Friday noon so that those who were boarded at the school could plan out their weekends.
    The school was tucked between St. Peter’s Abbey and London’s best confectioners at Westminster. It was a place known for higher study, religion, and the development of future leaders.
    However, the two had found it very easy to hop a fence or two, cross the grass at Green Park, cross Piccadilly and go on to Down Street. There they found cockfights and hedge taverns with brothels on the top floor. These were much more interesting to the comrades than the studies and religion at school.
    The two had remained friends in adult life. Anthony had first met Lord Ragland at the infamous Hellfire Club where he had been taken as a guest. Lord Ragland had been reciting a bawdy poem that Anthony remembered to that day:
    W hen I first run my tongue down your smooth thigh
    Just like a priest I kneel and bend to pray
    And gaze with his same fervor for on high
    My alter calls and sweet scents guide my way .
    Anthony’s father had frowned upon hearing his son had visited the club. “It’s a place I’d not care to have my name associated with,” he said. “It’s the devil’s own den I’m told. A place to sow a wild seed then be away from, else you’ll wind up reaping more than you sowed.”
    Anthony had taken his father’s advice. He’d read an article that Lord Ragland had had to fight half a dozen duels for his indiscretions. He then dropped out of sight for a while, returning to his family home nestled amidst the beauty and tranquility of the Welsh borderland. Oddly enough he delved into politics and for years served as a conservative member of the Welsh Parliament. He had established ties with the Duke of Wellington and now traveled in very elite circles. In short, Lord Ragland appeared to have put his hellish days behind him.
    Taking the offered glass, Anthony bowed slightly at the waist and said, “My Lord.”
    Lord Sandwich ignored the bow and held out his hand. “It’s good to see you again,” he said, vigorously shaking Anthony’s hand.
    â€œYou have been a star in my crown, sir. You are also the one officer who has not failed or disappointed me. Although I should be jealous, you’ve made the Gazette so many times I’m envious.”
    â€œI’ve had good supporting officers, My Lord. Most of the credit for my success must be directed toward them.”
    â€œDo you hear that, Joseph?” Sandwich asked, speaking to Lord Ragland. “The man refuses to blow his own horn.”
    â€œHe’d never be a politician,” Ragland replied as he took the opportunity to shake Anthony’s hand.
    â€œI hope your wife and child are doing well,” Sandwich spoke again.
    â€œThey’re fine, My Lord.”
    â€œGood…good. Has Gabe ere…ah…recovered from his honeymoon?”
    This brought a chuckle from Anthony, thinking how tired his brother appeared when he’d first arrived at Deerfield. “Sufficient enough to declare himself available to the port admiral.”
    â€œGood. He’s taking a good but unhappy ship. I’m sure however that he will be able to make her into a proud ship again.”
    â€œI have every confidence, My Lord,” Anthony responded.
    â€œAs have I. I have a dozen senior captains who daily beg for a ship but none more deserving than Gabe.”
    â€œThank you for that,” Anthony said.
    â€œNow let’s get down to business. You will be given command of the Windward Islands. Your senior will be Admiral Hotham, who has command of the West Indies. You will also report to Lord Ragland. He will be on hand much more than Hotham as he has been appointed as the new Governor of Barbados.”
    â€œMy congratulations,” Anthony said, lifting his unfinished glass in salute to Lord Ragland.
    Sandwich continued, “You will be given a squadron comprised