His Cavalry Lady. Joanna MaitlandЧитать онлайн книгу.
A sudden shiver ran down his spine. From somewhere on the harbour side, he could hear a woman’s voice, speaking educated French in just the low, musical tone that he had been imagining. Just like the voice of that girl in the stable. Was she really there? Or was his mind playing tricks?
He scanned the quayside impatiently. He needed to see where she was, to see her face properly at last. The moment the ropes had been secured, he strode down the gangplank. He had to find the owner of that rich and wonderful voice. It was her. It must be.
‘Je vous félicite,’ said the voice. ‘Et je vous remercie, aussi.’
The voice seemed to be coming from among a large group of French fishermen, standing just a few yards from the barge. A Russian officer in uniform was with them, his back towards Dominic. Was the elusive girl there, too, hidden by the Frenchmen’s burly backs?
The officer turned away from the group of fishermen. ‘Au revoir,’ he said, raising his hand in farewell and starting across the quay towards the barge.
Dominic’s stomach clenched in horror. Before he could stop himself, he uttered a savage curse. He was losing his wits! He had been weaving his missish dreams around a voice that belonged to a man!
A tall, dark man in civilian clothes had stepped off the military barge. He looked rather pale, as if he, too, did not enjoy the sea. But he also looked important. He certainly had an air.
Alex saluted him. ‘Captain Alexei Ivanovich Alexandrov, at your service, sir,’ she said smartly, in French.
For a second, the older man looked shocked, but then he returned Alex’s salute with a tiny bow. ‘Calder, appointed as liaison between his Majesty’s Government and your Emperor,’ he replied, in impeccable French. ‘My task is to ensure that his Imperial Majesty’s stay in England is as pleasant and enjoyable as possible. And if anyone in the Emperor’s suite should need assistance, please ensure he asks me. It is precisely why I am here.’
Goodness. He seemed a rather exalted personage to be performing such a relatively menial role. For the moment, however, Alex merely thanked him, as courtesy demanded.
‘Will you please to come out to the Impregnable, Captain?’ Calder indicated a warship at anchor in the bay. ‘You will wish to see where your Emperor is to be housed during the voyage.’ With that, he made his way back on to the barge.
Alex hesitated. Her companion looked remarkably at ease on that flimsy plank of wood, even though it had dipped a little with every step he took. Courage! she told herself. Forward! She stepped on to the plank and marched along it, resolutely ignoring the swaying under her feet. She was an officer of proven courage. What was a little water to her?
Safely on the deck of Impregnable at last, Alex allowed Calder to lead the way down a steep ladder and into a large, light cabin at the stern of the ship. It had been laid out with sumptuous furnishings: gilded furniture, paintings, plate, delicate glassware, and every other comfort that a high-ranking traveller might desire.
The ship moved suddenly, just as Alex turned to close the cabin door behind her. She reached for the latch, missed, and stumbled into a small table alongside.
‘You’ll get your sea legs soon enough, Captain,’ Calder said. ‘But, until you do, it will be wise to hang on, if you are moving around the ship. Especially going up and down the companionways.’
‘Companionways?’
‘The stairs between decks,’ he explained. ‘The Navy has its own language.’
‘You will forgive me if I say so, sir, but I am extremely surprised to meet an Englishman who not only speaks perfect French, but understands naval slang as well.’
‘My mother is French,’ he replied quickly.
‘That would explain it. Though I would be astonished to learn that she had served in the Navy.’
Calder almost smiled. ‘Touché, Captain. No, of course she did not. But I, myself, have often ventured to sea. We are a maritime nation, we British. It’s in our blood. Whereas for you, I imagine, the vast tracts of steppe play the same role.’
He was right. He was a man of insight, this Mr Calder. Unless…? ‘Have you visited Russia, Mr Calder?’
He looked slightly startled for a moment, but he replied easily enough, ‘No, Captain, I have not. You will understand, being a military man, that travel has been…ah…a little difficult for civilians, these last fifteen years or so. However, now that Bonaparte is safely settled as Emperor of Elba—’ he made a sound in his throat that could have been a snort of derision ‘—now that he is Emperor of Elba,’ he repeated, ‘the English are again indulging their love of travelling. Especially to Paris, of course. Perhaps even as far as Russia? It repays the effort, I am sure.’
‘Oh, indeed, sir. For Russia is such a vast country that we have everything.’
‘Except…’ said Calder softly, pausing on the word, ‘except the sea.’
At that moment, the ship lurched again. Alex felt as though her stomach had remained fixed in the air while the rest of her body sank by a foot.
‘May I suggest you sit, Captain? Then you will not have to put so much effort into trying to keep your balance.’
He sounds almost paternal, Alex thought, wonderingly. Why should a rather stern-faced Englishman take the least trouble over a Russian soldier who looked barely half his own age? But she sat, nonetheless.
‘I can imagine how you feel. I do not suffer from seasickness myself, but I have a much younger brother who goes green at the very sight of a ship.’
‘I see,’ Alex said automatically, feeling increasingly queasy.
‘But it does mean that I am well acquainted with all the best remedies. If you should start to feel ill on the voyage, I will have the galley prepare you a special tisane which will relieve the symptoms, I promise.’
‘You are more than kind, sir.’ With the swell now worsening, she felt real gratitude to this strange Englishman. He might yet turn out to be her saviour.
‘However, to business.’ In clipped tones, Calder described the practical arrangements that had been made for the Emperor’s comfort. There was nothing that Alex could cavil at. Calder, and his naval colleagues, seemed to have thought of just about everything. ‘Emperor Alexander’s host on this voyage to England will be his Royal Highness the Duke of Clarence, the Prince Regent’s brother. He is a naval man himself. I should perhaps warn you that he has… um…a tendency to be a little bluff. I hope that the Emperor will not take offence. Naval language can be a little ripe, on occasion.’
Alex smiled. In her years as a common trooper, she had probably encountered a great deal more ripe language than any prince of the blood royal would use in front of the Tsar. ‘His Imperial Majesty,’ she replied carefully, ‘is a man of impeccable taste and manners. He will certainly not do anything to put his host out of countenance.’
‘Excellent, thank you.’
‘At what hour is the Emperor’s party expected to come on board?’
‘About an hour or two before the tide, I expect,’ Calder said. ‘The captain of the Impregnable will give us exact information shortly. Tell me, Captain Alexandrov, does his Imperial Majesty travel with a large suite?’
‘No, not on this occasion,’ Alex said. ‘He did not wish to impose on his host.’ She went on to list all the people who were travelling in the Emperor’s immediate entourage.
Calder remained inscrutable throughout her recital. He could clearly be a difficult man to read, when he chose.
‘The Prince Regent has had a splendid set of rooms prepared for the Emperor at St James’s Palace. I am sure his Imperial Majesty will be most comfortable there. His suite also.’
‘Oh dear.’