Alan Lawrie 01 King's Coat by Dewey Lambdin

Author:Dewey Lambdin [Lambdin, Dewey]
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Dewey Lambdin
Published: 2010-04-16T09:26:31.483000+00:00

"I trust you both eqjoyed Sir Richard's dinner party," Kenyon said as they rode back through town in the coach.

It was much too early for Alan. He had barely gotten to sleep when a servant had arrived with hot coffee and sweetened rolls and practically pushed him into his clothing. He had scarcely had time to shave, not that that was yet a daily necessity.

"Oh, aye, sir," he said, worn down to a nubbin. He could not have felt much worse if he had emptied the punchbowl down his own gullet and retired a puking corpse.

Purnell, on the other hand, glowed in silence with a mysti- fied expression, all youthful innocence. Evidently he had had a restful sleep after his introduction to the Alpha and Omega of pleasure. But his beatific pose was betrayed by the lace- trimmed handkerchief that peeked from a waistcoat pocket. As soon as they had gotten into the coach, Purnell had grinned so hugely that Lewrie was sure that Mrs. Hillwood had been most generous with her favors. Now, Alan's main concern was if he wished to avail himself of those same favors, and just how he would go about it if he did.

The somber heat and stillness of the day before had gone with the approach of clouds from the east, and a cooling wind blew dead foul for Antigua, perhaps delaying their sailing. It was only Wednesday, and their distinguished passengers would not board until evening, with a dawn departure planned on the land breeze Thursday, but if the Trades did not back to the nor'east it would be a hard beat just to clear Morant Point, clawing off a lee shore. They would not risk their passengers to that, surely.

"I don't think we're going to get a fair wind by moming," Lieutenant Kenyon said, surveying the harbor and the wind indicators.

"Too much easterly for a storm, isn't it, sir?" Lewrie said. "And too late in the year for a hurricane, I'd have thought."

"Perhaps, oh nautical one." Kenyon laughed. "I shall send Mister Purnell to the flag with a message concerning this wind shift. 1 doubt if they wish to hazard our lord and lady. We may be delayed."

"Dh, good," Alan said without thinking.

"Have you some ulterior motive for wishing to stay in Kingston, Mister Lewrie?".

"Well, there are my pay-certificates, sir. Now I have them, I . . . have wanted a sextant, like Mister Ellison had in Ariadne. They are more accurate than a quadrant, and if we have to thread up the Bahamas again 1 would feel more secure in my reckoning. I hear they are fifteen guineas but I may find one for less with something to pledge for credit."

Kenyon only stared at him, and Lewrie dropped back in his seat, suddenly intent on the view, hoping his lie might suit.

But their departure was delayed; the flag did not wish to send a lord to his death on a lee shore, nor did the local admi- ral desire to have his career end suddenly by losing an impor- tant government official.

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