The Captain's Girl by Nicola Pryce

Author:Nicola Pryce
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atlantic Books

Chapter Twenty-eight

I followed behind Father, Captain Penrose introducing the long line of officers. ‘Lieutenant Saunders…Warrant Officer Moyle…Master Warren…’ They bowed in turn and I smiled with pleasure. They looked so smart in their blue coats and white breeches, their gold buttons gleaming, their sashes so white. They were strong and lithe with sun-burnt faces and an irrepressible energy, worlds apart from Father’s huge belly and bandaged leg. Captain Penrose stopped. He seemed disappointed in Father’s lack of response, turning to me instead. ‘Altogether, two hundred of His Majesty’s finest men, Miss Cavendish.’

‘I can certainly believe that, Captain Penrose – the finest men on the finest ship. What is she?’

‘She’s a sixth-rate frigate – five hundred and ninety-nine tons. Three years commissioned and she’s already proved her worth.’

‘She’s certainly very beautiful and we’re honoured to be invited. I thought women were considered unlucky on a ship.’

Captain Penrose smiled. ‘Not if they’re as sure-footed as you, Miss Cavendish.’ I smiled back. I liked him. Mother would say he had risen through the ranks but he had charm, intelligent eyes and the easy manners of a man who did not need to impress. He must have been early forties, about my height, broad shoulders, impeccable uniform, a stern face but capable of humour. Yes, I liked him. He turned to Father. ‘Easy to manoeuvre, heads close to wind, she’s everything you want.’

Father looked bored. ‘How many guns? You know my brother, Admiral Sir George Cavendish? He could barely get his frigate into the harbour.’

A flicker of annoyance crossed Edward Penrose’s face. ‘Thirty-four guns and, yes, I’ve heard of Admiral George Cavendish.’ He turned to Major Trelawney. ‘Not seasick, I hope, Henry? I know you military men don’t like ships.’

Major Trelawney looked over the side at the glistening mud. ‘Alright, so far, Captain Penrose.’

The men were dismissed to return to their work. HMS Circe was clearly well cherished; I could smell paint, varnish, and soap on the brushes. Her decks were scrubbed, the brass fittings gleaming, the wood polished to a smooth shine. Everything was neatly stowed and lashed to the decks, the rows of coiled ropes hanging securely to the sides. Ropes crisscrossed and looped across the yard arms, stretching like a spider’s web above us. Frederick Carew tucked Charity’s arm through his. ‘A hundred and twenty feet.’

‘And her width?’

‘Thirty-three – she’s not big, but she’s sturdy and very fast.’ He spoke with the same pride as his captain. ‘Come and feel the wheel.’ He smiled, indicating I should join them and I followed them up the steps as eager as a child. Two wheels were joined together, about two feet apart, the circles of beautifully crafted spokes polished to a shine. Charity gripped the wheel on her side and I gripped mine. To sail such a ship, to hold her steady while the ocean lashed. I felt suddenly afraid.

‘Do you have a ship’s cat?’

Charity looked puzzled but Frederick Carew smiled. ‘We most certainly do, Miss Cavendish – rather more than we should.’ The others had reached the forward hatch.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.