Short but sweet. Happy Good Friday! ;-)
PS: There's been som issues with the dates of Fern's diary, so I apologize. We begin where it should be, in October.
24
Homeward Bound
October the tenth, 1805
Aboard the HMS Surprise
Diary,
It is good to be at sea again. Jack continues to make his recovery in small daily increments, and Stephen, though confined away from his seabirds belowdecks, is as cheerful as ever. Mr. Mowett has taken over the running of the ship, and fine job of it he is doing, too – or so Lord Blakeney tells us. I'll not venture to make a presumption that I know anything about the running of a ship.
October the twenty-eighth, 1805
Aboard the flagship of Admiral Hoyton, the HMS Loyal
Diary,
We are in Catalonia, very near Stephen's home in Spain. Or rather, we are off the coast – there is an epidemic there, and it is dangerous to go ashore. The Admiral has been kind enough to let Jack, Stephen and I stay in his ship on the way back to England (he is returning after a barricade of some French-held island) while Mowett takes temporary command of the Surprise and follows us. I cannot wait to reach England…
Some days after this last entry I was sketching a specimen under Stephen's watchful eye when there came the cry of, "England, ho!" from the masthead. We were on the quarterdeck, taking advantage of the sunlight and keeping an eye on Jack, who was getting restless. Speak of the devil; as soon as the seaman's voice reached us, he whipped out his glass and focused it out to sea. A gray smudge on the horizon was all I could see.
"How do they know it's England?" I asked.
"Coordinates, my dear!" Jack cried. "And it is. By God, it is!" And he swung me up into his arms in a circle, scattering my work across the quarterdeck.
"You've ruined all my hard work," I grumbled, not unhappy in the least. He knew it too, and laughed at me, a hearty booming laugh that carried all over the ship.
"Dearest Fern, I will buy you all the copied specimens in the world once we are ashore, never fear." He caught my chin and kissed me tenderly. "It will be my wedding present."
"Or Stephen's," I replied with a grin. We stood together and held one another tightly, watching as the land came nearer. The smog was unmistakable. It was England, all right.
Jack's finger traced the chain around my neck that held the diamonds he had presented me with as a hasty engagement ring. I put my hand over his, and would have drawn it lower, but we were extremely conspicuous on the quarterdeck, not to mention that Stephen was watching us from behind his spectacles with the eyes of a mother hawk.
"Promise you won't go off to sea for a good while when we're married."
"I will endeavor to," he vowed. "But if Whitehall orders it, my dear, then I'm off. There's nothing I can do about them."
"Yes, I know." I hugged him tighter. "Just try to stay awhile, though I know you love the sea as much as I, if not more."
"That would be difficult," he teased. Then his gaze hardened in thoughtful sternness. "Of course, I could have you aboard; but I prefer to practice what I preach: no women for the hands or officers, no women for the captain. Especially a wife. Perhaps we could dress you up as a man…"
"Don't even think about it," came Stephen's voice from under his canvas.
"Oh well," Jack sighed. "It was worth a try."