Julian Stockwin - Seaflower

Kernon was cautious, but considerate: he treated Kydd like a master, consulting and discussing, allowing Kydd's concerns but meeting them with his greater experience. The next day wore on, and the evening drew in. Now was the testing time, whether the miracle could take place of a conjuncture in the dark out at sea of the two craft.

In the last of the light as they headed in once more, Kydd yet again took bearings of the headland and single islet that he had selected as his seamarks, additionally using Jarman's octant to determine their angle laterally, fixing their position by triangulation. The geometry was not onerous, but still intimidated Kydd, and he was grateful for Renzi's easy way with the formulae. He was only just beginning to see them not as some kind of machine that took in raw ingredients and out the other end came a neat and finished product; now he could, with Renzi's insights, dimly discern the elegance and fine reasoning behind them.

The moonless night was impenetrable, the soughing breeze and shipboard noises reducing awareness to a narrow circle of perceptions. The boat might be either in their path - or passing blindly by. 'Mr Merrick,' said Kernon, consulting his fob watch. There was fumbling in the gloom and sparks flew in the wind. A red glow and fizzing, then a blinding blue light issued from a wooden tube held aloft by a seaman. The acrid smoke caused Kydd to choke, but the ghostly blue radiance shone out into the night in a goblin splendour, and threw the vast mainsail into a stark, pale relief. The tube spluttered busily and hissed, pouring towers of cloud downwind, each man on deck motionless and bathed in the unearthly light.

'Deck hooo!’ The cry from forward was quickly followed by the challenge, 'Booooat ahoy!' and a faint cry from out in the blackness. Seaflower altered course - and her company was made whole once more.

Their welcome at Port Royal was puzzling: a lowly cutter returning from her servile duties, yet before she had taken up her moorings her number was hung out importantly on the flagship summoning her captain, and a pinnace pulled energetically from the shore.

'Barbados - an' not a moment t' be lost!' the dockyard functionary said with relish. 'Lord 'n' Lady Stanhope an' one other.'

Kydd recognised the name with a start, and before Captain Kernon returned from the flagship, Cecilia was aboard, gazing warily about her, something about her manner repelling Kydd's greeting. .

The boatswain called tersely for Kydd as the senior hand responsible for stowage of the hold. 'Do you consult Miss, er, Cecilia, concernin' the passage o' the noble gennelman,' he ordered.

Cecilia's eyes flashed a warning as she drew herself up. 'That is kind in you, Mr, er, Kydd.'

'This way, Miss,' Kydd mumbled, holding his hat awkwardly, and led the way to the broad midships. 'Cecilia—'

'Thomas, please!' Cecilia hissed. 'I cannot acknowledge you as kin, you must understand that. It were best that we stay at a distance, if you please.' She looked around warily. 'It is not often Fortune smiles on such as we, and I will not allow this opportunity to slip through my fingers.' Kydd smiled bleakly, while Cecilia continued, 'And, besides, you've no need for concern on my behalf. I rather like Lady Stanhope, she's kind and good.' She looked at him with a touch of defiance but more a plea for understanding.

Kydd straightened with a grin. 'Then, Miss Cecilia, we'd better be about y'r master's business.'

His sister was gratifyingly practical. It was urgent that Lord Stanhope reach Barbados as soon as possible to take ship for England on a matter of some high diplomacy, the details of which would be disclosed, no doubt, to Captain Kernon on his return. There was no expectation of special treatment — it was known that Seaflower was a small, but fast, vessel, best suited for the purpose, and Cecilia had personally seen that their baggage would not exceed four sea-chests in all. They themselves would board only when Seaflower was ready.

The wherry with the chests arrived at that instant, and Kydd tasked off three seamen to rig a tackle and sway them aboard. Kernon returned in some degree of distraction, giving immediate orders that his day cabin and bedplace be turned over to his noble passengers, arrangements for others to be put in train in due course.

Seaflower had to be stored for the passage and her extra passengers, and Kydd was hard put to plan the stowage and as well take in private stores required en voyage. A polite message came off from the shore enquiring whether four p.m. would be a convenient time to board. Cecilia's approval of the cabins and Kydd's report on stowage allowed Kernon to send a civil reply.

'A great honour, my lord,' Kernon said, very politely. Lord Frederick Stanhope was a thin man with oddly black eyebrows against his snow-white hair,*and a slight stoop. His eyes were penetrating.

'Thank you, Captain, for accommodating us at such a notice,' Stanhope replied. His voice was soft but clear. His wife looked every inch the grand lady, and Kernon visibly shrank at the duty of greeting her.

'Sir, I will show you to your cabins,' he said, with a bow, but Lady Stanhope cut him off with a flourish of her gloved hand.

'Nonsense. I'm sure Cecilia knows the boat by now, you have much more important work to do. Tempus fugit, Captain?'

Cecilia moved up silently on cue. Kernon took the hint, and without delay the boatswain's mate was pealing his call, 'Haaands to unmoor ship!' Seaflower readied herself for sea. Kydd took position at the conn and heard a last interchange as Cecilia helped Lady Charlotte down the near-vertical ladder below. 'Young lady, I was travelling in boats before you were born — do not fret so!'

Seaflower weighed in late afternoon and, breasting the tide, slipped along the colourful Palisades to the untidy clutter of buildings at the tip, Port Royal and Fort Charles, then gybed for the passage south.

'If'n ye pleases,' the boatswain rumbled, indicating to the interested party emerging on deck that they were to occupy the more spacious midships area. Kydd had used some forethought: a grinning Doud stood by to warn the noble group should the mainsail boom decide to traverse the deck in an untimely fashion.

They emerged into the open sea past reefs and islets, which Jarman took delight in pointing out — Gun Cay, Salt Pond Reef, Drunken Man's Cay, Turtle Heads; all well known hazards to Kydd, who remained alongside the helmsman with a sharp eye. His gaze strayed occasionally to Cecilia, who stood at ease with Lady Stanhope clearly enjoying the experience. Seaflower lifted gently to the broader swells of the Caribbean when Kydd was free to hand over the conn, but it was passing strange to see his sister in such a context.

Jamaica became an anonymous patchwork of green and brown, and Kernon approached Stanhope. 'We strike south first, m' lord. In the central Caribbean we shall not be annoyed by corsairs or privateers. We then alter to th' east, and should make landfall in Barbados in no more than three or four days, for agreeable to your request I shall bend on all sail for a fast passage.'

"Thank you, Captain,' Stanhope answered courteously. 'Now, my wife is wondering would it be convenient if perhaps we supped on deck rather than in the cabin—not that our accommodation is in the least objectionable,' he added hastily.

'Of course, sir,' said Kernon, with a wrinkled forehead. This was not an easy thing to achieve in a lively cutter. 'However, might I take this opportunity to present Petty Officer Renzi, whom I have detailed as your personal aide, and Master Luke who will be your servant'

Renzi stepped forward; the elegance of his small bow incongruous in his plain sea-faded seaman's gear. He did not look at Cecilia. 'My lord,' he said quietly.

Lady Stanhope smiled, then glanced at her husband, who had a preoccupied expression. 'What is it, Frederick?' she asked curiously.