‘Y—No! Good heavens! No, of course not.’ Was she believed? The duchess was far too skilled at hiding her feelings for her to tell.
‘Excellent, although you do surprise me—he is a most attractive young man.’ The duchess’s mouth curved into a positively wicked smile. ‘But there are other handsome men out there and ones with titles and fortunes beside. So all we need to do now is to provide you with a fitting wardrobe and to introduce you to society. You will need to tell Mr Wallingford, our solicitor, all about your inheritance and he will make sure the Naismiths are dealt with.’
‘Good,’ Clemence said with some feeling, wishing it were possible to send both father and son to sea with Red Matthew McTiernan for a few months. Keelhauling was too good for them.
‘And now, my dear, it is time for you to change for dinner while I tell you all about your new family.’
Chapter Nineteen
Nathan stood in the waiting room outside the admiral’s office in no very compliant frame of mind. His nerves felt raw since he had left Hampshire and distance did not seem to help. If anything, the more time he had to think about Clemence and the awful truth that he had fallen in love with her, the worse he felt.
He had risen through the navy, always accepting his orders without question, even when they had seemed eccentric and inexplicable. Now he found himself resentful and ready to argue. They had sent him out to Jamaica to fight pirates; he had done so—with some success, if he said so himself—and now they were hauling him back before they even knew how he had prospered.
If they had left him where he was, he would never have realised he was in love with Clemence. He could be happily hunting buccaneers at this very moment, if they had just left him be. The admiral’s secretary opened the door. ‘Captain Stanier?’
‘Sir.’ He arrived on the rug in front of the desk, saluted and stared stonily at the weather-beaten and irascible face glowering back.
‘What’s the matter with you, Stanier? Unhappy because we’ve called you back? Hah.’
‘I am entirely at your lordship’s disposal. Sir.’
‘You most certainly are. What do you think we sent you out there for?’
‘To fight pirates, my lord.’
The admiral narrowed his eyes, unable to fault the tone or the words. ‘I recall at the time telling you to assess the situation and develop a strategy to fight pirates.’
‘My lord.’ And what the hell did they think he and Melville had been doing?
‘So you’ve had a look. Tell me what needs doing. And stand at ease, man, you look as if you’ve a poker up your breeches.’
‘I was about to send despatches, my lord.’
‘Not good enough. I need you to convince their lordships of the need to put more resources out there because I’m damned if I can. This needs stamping out, once and for all before these freebooters and scum become useful allies for our late colonists. And I don’t trust those Americans an inch—too much competition for trade in that area, however friendly they seem to be.
‘We didn’t deal effectively with the Barbary pirates and they are still a thorn in the flesh of every law-abiding merchantman in the Mediterranean. You’ve been out to the West Indies, you’ve seen the situation, now I want you to work on a strategy and we’ll get the ships and money we need.’
Nathan felt himself relax. That at least sounded logical. ‘And then I can go back out there?’
‘Yes, you and Melville. I need you both to meet with Commodore Lord Hoste. You know where his office is? Well, get yourself along there and get organised.’ He waved a hand in dismissal. ‘And, Stanier—he’ll need a vice-commodore to take control out there. Do you understand what I am saying?’
‘But Melville—’
‘Melville is a good fighting captain. You are that and a strategist as well.’
Feeling somewhat as though he had been hit over the head, Nathan found Lord Hoste’s office. Vice-commodore?
Melville was already there, both men bent over charts, a secretary scribbling in the background. Hoste, an elegant man in his early forties who cultivated a deceptive manner of caring for little except the cut of his coat and the mix of his snuff, raised a languid brow at Nathan’s arrival.
‘How long do you need to get yourself equipped for two weeks in the country, Stanier?’
‘My lord?’
‘I was promised to a house party; you had better both come, too, because I’m damned
if I’m going to stick in London, it’s as dead as a graveyard and as stuffy as hell. We can work there as well as here. A couple of extra men are always welcome at these affairs and we’ll have every excuse for shutting ourselves away when they want us to listen to some simpering ingénue thumping the piano, eh?’
‘Your hostess—’