Page 9 of The Scandal of the Deceived Duchess
“Aye, then it’s Henry foryeand Cory for me.” Anna grinned, alluding to her chosen men for the both of them. Her Scottish accent had become far more pronounced since leaving England. The sea had given her free spirit and the thirst for more.
Amelia giggled again. “Anna, I don’t think it’s as easy as all that. And besides, Captain Wimple is married to the sea.” She moved closer to Anna in case someone might hear her. “Do you know what we spoke of last night during dinner with the other senior officers?”
“Iaveno idea, Amelia.” This was another development. When no one was around or close by, Amelia insisted Anna address her with her given name.
“I now know the ins and outs of the Royal Navy better than anyone. There are currently over six hundred and sixty ships with fourteen thousand cannons and over one hundred thousand men in the navy. It’s the largest fleet in the world.” She pointed up to the mizzen top. “Those men up there are referred to as able seaman because they are the only ones allowed up that one-hundred-foot mast. They constitute less than twenty percent of the crew. The rest being marines and landlubbers as the sailors refer to them.”
“Well, that sounds like a most romantic evening.”
Amelia chuckled. “Not really. The ship we are on is a frigate, also called a 38-gun ship, but she actually has 50 guns.”
“Why would they call it a 38-gun ship then?” asked Anna, confused.
“I have no clue.”
The two women laughed. “What else did the captain say?” asked Anna who was veritably intrigued. She wanted to be able to impress Cory later when they had the chance for a chat.
“Well, the strangest thing is that contrary to what we’ve been told, some women are allowed on board ship. And I don’t just mean passengers like us, but women amongst the crew. In some cases, they sneak aboard and behave like men. Or in others, they are commissioned to act as assistant cooks or as laundry maids.”
“This is something. There’s hope for me yet,” said Anna, sneaking another look at Cory who by now was busy scrubbing the deck further down the length of the vessel.
Amelia’s face adopted a more serious mien. “This can’t be it, Anna. I mean you did say in your dream that we wouldn’t reach our final port of call. We are only a few days out, a week at the most…and then…I am within that man’s reach.”
Anna contemplated for a heartbeat. “Have faith, Amelia. Love always finds ways to bring those people together that belong. It is the way of the universe.”
“I still don’t see how love can work its magic thousands of leagues from land. We are still very much at sea.”
“AHOY, SHIP TO STARBOARD!”
Upon hearing the lookout, both Anna and Amelia leaned over the bulwark and turned their heads to the right as far as possible in the direction of the ship’s bow. They couldn’t see a thing. Only the waves as they slapped against the bow and the side of the ship as she gradually picked up speed.
“CAN YOU MAKE OUT HER COLORS?” yelled the third lieutenant from the bridge to the men aloft in the masts.
“She must be English. Our fleet has the entire American coast cordoned off. The war is confined to the land,” said Amelia with confidence.
“SHE’S AMERICAN, SIR,” yelled the man from up top, contradicting her words.
Amelia felt a shiver slide down her spine. Anna just looked at the activity on board the HMS Capricorn with concerned eyes.
“BRING HER TO PORTSIDE,” ordered the captain. Caruthers, wait for my command to beat to quarters – let’s see what she’s going to do first,” he said somewhat more quietly, addressing his first lieutenant who stood next to him.
Amelia and Anna froze on the spot. This was it. They were going to see action at sea. The notion was both exciting and dreadful. Not so much so for Amelia whose knowledge about naval life was limited to what the captain had told her.
Anna had received a far more brutal instruction, which included anecdotes from a veteran able seaman who had partaken in the Battle of Trafalgar – the famous naval clash between the French and Spanish allies against the British fleet in 1805; the British victory had been Lord Nelson’s finest hour and his elevation into the annals of history. However, the battle had also cost him his life. The great admiral perished on board of his flagship, HMS Victory.
“Can you see the other boat?” asked Amelia.
“It’s a ship.” Anna did not look at her mistress. Her eyes that had swiveled away from the deck were glued to the horizon again.
“There’s no need for that…can you see it…the enemy ship?” she hissed, feeling the nerves claim her body. She had never felt more apprehensive in her life.
“There,” cried Anna.
The man in the mizzen top confirmed her sighting. “SHE’S COMING ABOUT!”
“What’s that mean?” Amelia’s mind was a cauldron of incomprehension.
“She’s changing tack to better claim the wind for the direction she’ll be taking,” said Anna.
