A Regency Officer's Wedding: The Admiral's Penniless Bride / Marrying the Royal Marine. Carla Kelly

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СКАЧАТЬ your back wages. He was a little forgetful at first, but eventually he remembered that he owed you this. Hold out your hands.’

      He poured a handful of pence in the astounded child’s hands. They spilled through on to her dress, which she stretched out to receive them. ‘When we get home, I will ask Etienne to find you a crock to keep them in.’

      She nodded, too shy to speak, and edged closer to Sally, who put her arm around the girl. Finally, it was too much, and she burst into noisy tears. Disregarding her odour and dirty clothes, Sally pulled her on to her lap, whispering to her until she fell asleep. When she slept soundly, Sally put her on the seat and rested the scullery maid’s head in her lap.

      ‘That landlord told me she hadn’t earned a penny because she kept breaking things and stealing food,’ Charles said, his voice low. ‘Perhaps Wilberforce should look closer to home, if he wants to see the slave trade.’ He leaned forwards and tapped Sally’s knee with his hook. ‘You’re quite a woman, Mrs B.’

      She looked at him, shabby in old civilian clothes years out of fashion because he had never been on land for most of two decades. His hair could have used a barber’s shears, and he probably hadn’t been standing close enough to his razor this morning. There was steel in him, and a capability that made her want to crawl into his lap and sob out every misery she had been subjected to, like Twenty. All those years at sea, spent protecting his homeland, seemed to be reflected in his eyes.

      ‘Thank you,’ was all she said.

      Starkey was aghast to see what they had brought home with them, but Etienne didn’t bat an eye. In no time, he had water heating for a bath. When the water was ready, and Twenty eyeing it with considerable fear, he appeared with a simple dress.

      ‘This was in a trunk in the room I am using,’ he said. ‘Here are some shears. Hold it up to her and cut it to size. That will do for now.’

      ‘Etienne, you’re a wonder,’ Sally said, as she took the bit of muslin and wondered which Fair Cyprian had worn it.

      Twenty’s protests died quickly enough, when she saw there was no rescue from a bath, followed by a pine tar block that barely foamed, but which smelled strong enough to drive away an army of lice. Her hair was already short. Trapping the towel-draped scullery maid between her knees, Sally trimmed and then combed her hair until it was free of animal companions.

      Dressed in the hand-me-down, Twenty stood still for a sash cut from a tea towel, and then whirled in front of the room’s tiny mirror. She stopped and staggered after too many revolutions, and flopped on the bed, giggling.

      ‘I’ll have something better made for you soon,’ Sally told her.

      ‘I couldna ask for more, miss,’ she said, and it went right to Sally’s heart. I’m not sure I could, either, she thought.

      There were two small beds in the little room. While Sally made up one, over Starkey’s protests that he could do it, Twenty sat at the table in the servants’ hall and ate a bowl of soup, not stopping until she had drained it. Sally looked over to see Etienne struggling with his composure as he handed her a small roll, and followed it with two more. When Twenty finished, she yawned, moved the bowl aside and put her head on the table. In less than a minute, she slept. She woke up in terror and cried out when Starkey picked her up, but settled down when Sally took her in her arms and carried her into the little room. She sat beside the bed until Twenty slept.

      ‘She doesn’t have a name, Etienne,’ Sally said, when she came into the servants’ hall. ‘She is your pots-and-pans girl. You should name her.’

      ‘Vivienne, after my sister?’ he said decisively. ‘Vivienne was her age when she died. It is a good name.’

      ‘Very well. You can tell her in the morning.’

      She went upstairs slowly, tired in body, but more in mind. Etienne said he would bring supper soon, but she craved company more than soup or meat. She looked in the sitting room and up at the ceiling, which had been painted a sedate soft white.

      ‘Starkey said it’s only the first coat,’ the admiral said from the sofa, where he sat with his shoes off and his feet out in front of him. ‘You can tell them tomorrow what colour you would like.’

      It was utterly prosaic, but she burst into tears anyway, and soon found herself burrowed in close to the admiral, his arm about her.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she managed to gasp, before a fresh wave of tears made her shoulders shake.

      ‘Oh, belay that,’ he murmured. ‘Is she going to be all right?’

      She nodded, taking the handkerchief he held out with his hook. ‘I don’t know. Can we send for a physician tomorrow? When she was in the bath, I noticed her private parts… Oh, Charles, they’re all inflamed. Do you think that horrible man…?’ She couldn’t say any more. He held her close.

      ‘The physician will sort her out,’ he said, his voice hard. ‘Too bad I cannot have that man flogged around the fleet until the skin comes off his back in tatters.’

      She shuddered. ‘You’ve done that?’

      ‘That and more, and for less offense, Sophie,’ he said. He put his hand over her eyes, closing them. ‘Don’t think about it. The best thing that happened to Twenty was you.’

      ‘Her name is Vivienne. Etienne named her.’

      She sighed, happy to close her eyes behind his hand. He kissed the top of her head and cradled her against his chest.

      ‘It’s a tough world, my dear,’ he said.

      ‘Not here, not in this decrepit den of thieves,’ she said softly. ‘I’d like a very soft green in this room. Of course, that might require new furniture.’

      She felt him chuckle, more than heard him.

      They were sitting like that, close together, heads touching, when Starkey opened the door and cleared his throat.

      ‘Sir, your sisters are here.’ He paused, and closed his eyes against the horror of it all. ‘They have brought Egyptian furniture.’

      Charles groaned. ‘Oh, Lord, there you go—new furniture.’

       Chapter Eleven

      Sally tried to sit up, but her husband had anchored her to him. She heard his intake of breath and looked at the door to see two ladies staring back, their mouths open, their eyes wide.

      ‘Charles,’ one of them wailed. ‘What have you done? And without our permission!’

      ‘My sisters,’ the admiral said in a flat voice. He released Sally and got to his feet, holding out his hand for her. ‘Sisters, my wife.’

      The ladies in the doorway continued to stare. Finally, the younger one spoke and it was not a pleasant tone of voice.

      ‘Charles William Edward Bright, What Have You Done?’

      Dear me, she really does speak in capital letters, Sally thought. She glanced at her husband, СКАЧАТЬ