The morning of Christmas Day had dawned bright and fair. Sun beamed down through the clouds and the day began like a fresh, June morning. Lying close to the sleeping Cicely, Stephen Maturin stroked his wife's short-cut hair, as he contemplated where he was right at that moment.
It had been a difficult journey, and one which would not end there. Already what he had put in place in London, both several months...years...before, and much more recently would bring to bear on them all. In the end, would it all be alright, in the end? So much had happened. And yet, as the day dawned of the birth of the Lord, nothing else seemed to matter. What would happen in the future could not be anticipated, just carefully managed. And at least Cicely would be safely in the care of her Uncle when that happened.
They had talked, on these matters, and others, once they had returned from the Cathedral. Cicely, her non-conformist, puritan Protestantism causing her to feel the place alien, had lessened her apprehension when she had stumbled towards him less than five hours before, and they had been patient enough to leave their long-awaited reconciliation until they had been aboard the Surprise; till they had held one another close, Stephen taking her close in his arms and never wanting them to be apart again.
He had told her what had happened when he had been in England, and how he had sent word to her via Jack so she would know some of his news, for there was much to tell. Stephen would have dearly liked to have told her himself that her hateful, tyrannical father was now dead, and her worries of their marital legitimacy were finally at an end, but knew, he had told her, that it was better for her to take time to consider all of the effects of this. Cicely was a free woman; her Uncle, to whom she had planned to reside, was now redundant in terms of her needing a guardian, and through their union it was now Stephen.
As he had anticipated, Cicely had waved aside any wish or wonder at the money her father's estate provided, and told him that it was her dearest wish that he spend it on his Society commission. Stephen had laughed, and laughed again when she had told him of her shopping expedition to purchase animals for him; the small monkeys being a particular bother to the crew as they had loaded them into the stores as they had nibbled through the twine and from their cage several had attempted a bid for freedom in the harbour before Chell had dived in and rounded them up.
More, much more they shared, keeping the early morning Christmas day company as the sun heralded the day and Cicely stirred as Stephen moved in the hammock-cot, and they continued their reunion. He had not brought anything with him, he had told her, to mark Christmas. Cicely told him that the news of their changed fortune was more than enough, and she listened in awe as Stephen then told her of his landing in England, in Portsmouth, where the French Admiral captured by Strachan's action was taken and imprisoned.
"I heard by way of two sailors accompanying me in the carriage on the way to Place House," Stephen added, as they sat together, the warmth of the sun beating through the knotholes of the cabin, the light narrowing into an intruding beam across the floor, that slowly worked its way towards the door.
"After a long conversation with Hamilton, he finally got to the point: that Wickham was now the most sought enemy of the realm." There was a pause, as Cicely looked at him, her husband, whose slender features betrayed a story he didn't want to share.
"But of course, you will no longer need to spy," she reminded him. "You can gain your commission at a much faster rate without that business distracting you." And she kept it at that, for Cicely knew she could push him into foreswearing his former occupation. But it was too soon to make him promise to her. Indeed, after what he'd done to her, with Fouche, with her role on "Victory", with making out Stephen was dead, there was a good part of Cicely that knew she would not hesistate to kill William Wickham herself.
"I did as you asked, and returned the money to Mrs Darwin, via her husband," Stephen went on, getting to his feet and leafing through the newly-transcribed notes that she had produced in his absence. "I was priviledged to be invited to a meeting with him, and several other local men of standing, one evening, at the home of an industrialist in Birmingham. It was very insightful, and has answered a good deal of questions that I had." He smiled over to Cicely, laying "Zoonomia" on his lap, before looking down at the page he had opened.
"I then gained further insight at a social gathering for an MP in Tamworth. Sophie Aubrey was a guest, and was so delighted to hear of your safety and happiness. I was pleased to be in the company of Dr. Darwin because several important people were there, important because they have contacts with people at the Royal Society." Stephen turned to look up at Cicely, placing the book on the table and frowning, before returning to his place next to her, taking up her hands.
"The MP, George Villiers' cousin was there, and...someone I once knew..." He looked across at her, still, waiting.
"...Diana Villiers, "Cicely's inner voice narrated bitterly, and then freed the words quietly to the air between them.
"Yes. She is Sophie Aubrey's cousin. We once had a...friendship, which is long past. Diana introduced me to Aime Bonpland, and naturalist, of as much fame as Alexander von Humboldt, whose work you have been transcribing. It was at that moment that I knew, I knew, Cicely, as much as the most devout man who worshipped last night at the Cathedral in that city - " he cast his arm towards the hull of "Surprise" past which the building stood, towards Sao paulo, " - that my place is here, with Jack, with you, to continue my work. It depressed me to know that he is so close to finishing his work, and how close in form that it is to my own. He wished me well, though I barely discussed my work - and how happy I was not to have - and said Humboldt would be honoured to know his work was still being used as a source of inspiration in other naturalists.
"It was at this point I made plans to return, then I was contacted at the Darwins' about your father's death. Benjamin Wigg took out a legal challenge, of course, but it was thrown out, on a written account by Lord Nelson."
Cicely said nothing – it was a lot to take in. But...no. The means didn't matter. How Stephen had gained his knowledge, through which person's influence...
...the only thing that mattered was Stephen's commission...with her father's money...
"...the marriage is disputed, so I hear..." The words, almost mocking her for the last few months, coming from a letter to Stephen from Diana Villiers. Well, hear different, Madam! Cicely's inner voice declared.
Stephen continued, oblivious to her inner dialogue, "I have kept the house on, with the servants, and some of your money. I borrowed a little for my passage here, and some of your money, just temporarily, to fund my commission, rather than having to spy to support me, as you suggested." Stephen smiled, taking her hand once more. "Once I gain the prize from accession to the Royal Society, it will be repaid to you, Cicely."
"It is yours, as our marriage is legitimate, as you told me," Cicely replied. For if you insist in repaying me, that says otherwise.
"And morally, it is yours."
"Then I give it to you as a gift, Stephen Maturin," Cicely insisted, "for the relief at least I have in knowing you have given up spying."
"Indeed, indeed, my darling!" Stephen exclaimed. "Even though I was so good at it, it is a relief to give up the game."
But not Wickham, Cicely replied silently, as they held one another, his warm body pressing close to her, still wearing as she had been last night, her wedding dress. No. You have not given up on William Wickham, of this I am certain.
"And, for the last few weeks, since landing in the Spanish Americas...where I've been...what I've seen...what I've achieved...!" Stephen got to his feet, his eyes alight with excitement and life; . "Where I was behind Humboldt, I am ahead...and it is you I have to thank!"
"But, what have I done?"
"Your money has helped me travel from the Darwins'...from England...to get where I need to be at the right time...Humboldt and Bonplan working in Paris now, with their work already assembling... but I was able to cross back to the Orinoco...and I think...oh Cicely, I could scarce believe it..."
From his shirt, Stephen held out a scrap of paper, wrinkled, a little water-damaged, placing it carefully on the pile of notes that Cicely had yet to transcribe.
"Something Humboldt missed - " he began, but then a loud knock interrupted them. Stephen crossed the planks, lifting the latch.
"Blakeney!" The not-so-young-any-more Lieutenant smiled broadly at him, looking past him, beaming at Cicely.
"Will!" Cicely got to her feet, moving to Stephen's side.
"The Captain wishes me to tell you that he is to minister shortly."
"Indeed," nodded Stephen. "Then we will be there."
"It's good to see you, Doctor," Will smiled again, his grin fixing on Cicely. "Captain Aubrey asked me to bring you this." Into Stephen's hand he placed a parcel. Cicely frowned as Will and Stephen exchanged glances.
"And it's good to see you, Will," agreed Stephen. "You will be at Christmas dinner tonight?"
"Yes, sir," Will nodded. " And it will be good to see Mrs Maturin in her new dress!"
"New dress?" asked Cicely, as Stephen closed the door on the reluctantly retreating Lieutenant.
"I spent my prize money too," as he placed the parcel in her hands. "Unlike my new species, which are causing havoc in the hold, or so I hear, you may have your gift now. "Merry Christmas, my darling."
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As white as the sails above her, Cicely Maturin stood next to her husband opposite the Captain of the Surprise on the quarterdeck wearing her Christmas present. If the blue Chinese silk gown she had worn to marry was expensive, this must have been more. Pearls dotted the silk bodice; lace and silk made the straps. The white silk fabric, the most treasured in all of the Orient, for the natural colour was so rare to be yielded from the silkworms, flowed from her waist generously. She felt reborn that Christmas morning, as if forgiven for all past wrongdoing, and that it was from that moment on she could begin again.
"...Mary, her cousin Elizabeth, who was also with child..."
Below them, on the main deck, the men of the Surprise, as one, listened diligently to the mass that was being spoken, a passage read a passage from St. Luke's Gospel. An ecumenical service, of course, for Jack could hardly be expected to cater for every individual denomination of Christianity. He had, however, been available at dawn to hear the papists' confessions, as was the custom on Christmas mornings and, as the service drew to a close, finished by announcing that all men were entitled to double rum rations in recognition of their part in the capture of the four rogue "Trafalgar" ships, and that the afternoon hours were their own.
A cheer arose below them as Jack stood down his officers, too, before inviting her and Stephen to his cabin to partake in their company that Christmas afternoon.
"You look beautiful, my dear," smiled Jack who, in his new uniform, took her hand as they stepped into his cabin a few hours later. "And may I say Stephen, what a timely, and somewhat surprising return you made last night? I wasn't expecting you until this evening."
"No, indeed," agreed Stephen, chancing a glance at Cicely. "I had a stroke of fortune in my commission."
"Indeed?" enquired Jack, as he poured out sherry for them both, before offering Cicely milk, a veritable luxury, courtesy of Sao Paulo.
"The fortune being...my new fortune. Cicely's father died, as I told you, and I took the liberty in borrowing some in order to fund my passage south. Now, of course, you know that I met with Alexander von Humboldt when I was in England?"
"I did indeed, agreed Jack, drawing up his chair, his eyes moving for a second over to Cicely, who returned the glance with a nod. "Sophie did mention it to me in her last letter."
"It enabled me to gain passage to Cumana on a merchant ship bound for the Indies, but first to New Spain, in order to trade in Jesuit's bark. It was exactly where I needed to be.
"I then chanced upon a meeting with a noble, on the first day of landing at the port, by the name of Simon Bolivar. The man was in a bind; he appeared to have been waiting in an inn for company which never arrived and I struck up a conversation, for I myself was now in the country where Humboldt and Bonplan had worked; where the man had adventured and studied, and I imparted my wonder at the country's natural world.
"In turn, Bolivar engaged me in conversation of his time in Europe, and a stroke of fortune then arose: he had discussed the very thing, the natural wonders of New Spain with Humboldt himself, in Paris! It transpired that Bonplan had left some of Humboldt's original work at the home of a Signor Gamat, in Cumana itself, with whom he stayed before travelling the Orinoco with several freed slaves as guides. He noted within the species of monkey and ape, and attempted to fix their genus. He is absent of these, and this has delayed his work." He sipped his sherry, as Jack placed his glass upon the oak.
"It is a pity that they cannot be found," the Captain pondered. Cicely's mouth turned into a grin. Of course! Bolivar must have guided Stephen to their very spot!
"As we speak, they are in my very possession," Stephen replied, returning Cicely's look of happiness at his progress.
"That is indeed a singular thing - Bolivar, I know, is a man of money and status. May I enquire as to what caused such a revelation?"
"He is also a known rebel amongst the established government in New Spain," Stephen replied. "And as such, it may not be prudent to reveal here, Jack, even to you. However, I am also a man of status in Catalonia, a known opponent to the Castilianisation of Catalonia - " the pause was sudden and he broke off, changing th subject.
"And, of late, a man of money," he added. "We had many things to discuss that were mutually beneficial. It is my beloved wife's inheritance that made the journey at such a speed possible - " Stephen turned, taking up Cicely's hand in his, "- and her connections – and yours – in political circles, which allowed me to ask the correct questions. If ever Humboldt were to be aware of what I now know, of the river in which it took him over a year to document, that had given me a head start over him, why, he would be furious, to say the least!"
But Jack now had a look in his eye that Cicely knew meant that something had occurred to him that required his preoccupation. His gaze took in the wooden planking, the window, and then the harbour, full of rowing boats and people milling about on the quayside.
"Spain should never have sided with Bonapate; he will never leave that country be in his quest for domination, whatever he has made the King believe. He should have relocated, like Portugal has." He gave Stephen a steely look, then picked up the sherry bottle, his face returning to its usual joviality and asked, "more wine?"
Before either of them could reply, a knock came.
"Come!" A red-faced William Mowett peered cautiously round the door.
"I have come to inform you that several boats have left the "Indefatigable", Sir. To let you know, sir!" he panted. Clearly the midshipmen on duty were alert to the traffic in the harbour and the dependable Mowett had known the Admiral was to arrive that evening.
"Does it bear the flag of the Admiralty?"
"No, sir. But if the Admiral is early, I'll be sure to let you know."
"A little premature, Mowett, but I thank you for your conscientiousness."
As Mowett was about to close the door, Lieutenant Blakeney appeared in the gap.
"If you please sir," he said, as he took the door's weight against his arm, looking past Jack and at Stephen. "I should like to ask, sir, if I may indulge in your wife's company? Only, the men have had trouble with some of the apes and also, seeing as it is Christmas, sir." He held out a small packet to Stephen, his eyes trailing from the doctor to Cicely.
"I have a small gift for you, sir."
"Indeed? That is most kind, Blakeney, most kind. May I open it now?" Will Blakeney inclined his head, and Stephen tore off the brown wrapping.
"It's a land-compass, sir," he explained. "A new device, something I got in Portsmouth before we left the South Coast. A man called - "
" - Harrison," nodded Stephen, his eyes wide. "Indeed, yes, indeed." He looked at Jack.
"Indeed. Harrison's chronometer! But, of course, the man died penniless. He never could convince the Navy that it was good enough."
"Never convince them?" asked Stephen. "By all accounts the man was used most ill, when his invention – one of which hangs on the deck out there, works so precisely that it can even record a change in tide."
Sensing a hot disagreement brewing between the two men – Jack's distaste for his beloved Service would never go unchallenged - Cicely looked at Blakeney, willing him to say something.
"May I speak to Cicely? Mrs Maturin, I mean, sir?"
Stephen and Jack exchanged glances, both resigned to their own points of view. Cicely got to her feet, her white dress illuminating the afternoon sun through Jack's cabin window.
"Certainly," she nodded, looking at Stephen for agreement, who glanced at Jack. The two friends had had little time together since he had returned. It would be good to give it to them.
"Certainly, my dear," he agreed. "And my thanks, Lieutenant for your thoughtful gift.
On the deck, the sight was glorious. The harbour shone like a pale sapphire, its edges trimmed with quayside. People were still milling about, getting in and out of the boats that were mooring; loading and unloading. Quite a few people seemed to be heading to the Cathedral again. A busy Christmas afternoon.
It turned out that the main reason that Blakeney wanted Cicely was because of the animals. They had run amok in the mid-deck when Harris and Chell had attempted to feed them, and some had escaped. At least two had made it to daylight and thrown themselves overboard in a bid for freedom.
"Are they animals which are particularly important to the Doctor?" asked Blakeney, as he showed her down to the gunnery. "If they are, then I can see to it that they are recaptured. Or replaced?" He looked earnestly at Cicely, the same expression he had worn nearly two years before when he had discovered she was not as she appeared to be.
"The men found them amusing this morning, he added, as a cacophany of squawks and grunts acknowledged Cicely and Will Blakeney's arrival. Cicely looked, inspecting the specimens that remained.
"I don't know; I don't think so," Cicely replied, nodding towards Blakeney. "Only the doctor could say, and he has yet to see them properly." She smiled at Blakeney, and smiled a little more when she took in his worried expression. "It's OK, Will," she added.
"I have something or you, Cicely," Blakeney said, when they were back on the main deck. "I hope that, now you are properly married, you don't mind me calling you by your first name?" Cicely patted his hand. The boy was like a younger brother to her; despite the rules of the Service, she didn't mind in the slightest.
"I have nothing or you," she replied, shaking her head, sadly. "I spent my prize money on the apes and monkeys."
"It's OK, Cicely. I never expected you to get me anything. And the thought of the doctor getting the specimens he needs makes me happy."
"Hold on," laughed Cicely, her short hair bobbing about her ears in the breeze, "he's not seen them yet!" She instantly regretted saying that, however, when Blakeney's face changed into an expression of confusion.
"Never mind," she said, and smiled again, nodding as Captain Howard, his unsteady form implying he had found an inn open on Christmas Day and indulged a little, saluted Cicely, and grinned.
"I have this for you, Cicely," said Blakeney. Like Stephen's chronometer, it was wrapped in brown paper, much smaller, however.
"It's not a lot. But I liked it. I...I was going to send it to my sister, but she has a lot of brooches. Do you like it?" He leaned in earnestly to catch her words. Cicely pulled at the paper, which unravelled to reveal a small brooch that seemed to be made of a strange, heavy, silvery material, soft to the touch, which he had got from a pedlar, but its filigree pattern made it seem pretty and he wanted her to have it.
Cicely was touched. She pulled Blakeney closer for a hug, despite being it being Christmas Day and that they had shared an intimate moment in broad daylight on the main deck. No-one was around that seemed to notice, even less, care. It was so kind of the lad. She wanted very little in the way of gifts; she had all she could want. That God had heard her silent prayers for her husband to be reunited with her was evidence enough that her faith was strong enough for God to reward her.
And yet here was a young lad, limited in female companionship, and he had thought to give her such a charming gift. Cicely realised the young lieutenant was waiting for her to say something.
"Yes, Will," she replied, holding the brooch up to the light. "I really do like it. It shines so beautifully. And what metal!"
"I don't know," Will replied, interpreting her statement as a question. "A metal from Brazil. It seems to change colour in the light. And it's heavy as gold."
"Strange," replied Cicely, as she held it up to let the sun reflect off it. "It really does. Thank you for your kindness, Will."
Just as she was about to make her way back to Jack's cabin however, the first bell of the dog watch rang clear, and a scuttling from the midshipman to the deckhand followed, before the latter hurried to Mowett, who in turn raced across the mid-deck, and down towards Jack's cabin. She followed the man to the door, and heard him declare, "the Admiral's boat is launched, sir..." followed by, "...now, sir! He'll be piped aboard this very minute!"
Will and Cicely looked at one another before hurrying themselves to the gang-plank. Anchored as they were somewhat away from the quay, any visitors to "Surprise" first had to climb aboard on the ropes.
Cicely looked down to see the familiar face of the Admiral who saved her life in the back streets of Sao Paulo. Beside him, in their boat, was a woman, presumably, Mrs Pellew.
From their boat a crewman boarded, speaking swiftly to Nagel and Pizzy – now a deck-hand – and pointing wildly towards Admiral Pellew and his wife. Minutes later a crate was being lowered, fixed round one of the overhead beams. Cicely and Will watched as the crate began to lower down over the side of the ship. Cicely leaned further over and watched as it landed in the boat next to Mrs Pellew.
After a brief exchange of words and animated gestures between two, Cicely watched in amazement as Mrs Pellew, clearly middle-aged and a little plump, sat on the box, holding tightly to the ropes on either side as Chell and Symons heaved on it, in the same way she had done when she had left the ship and returned to it.
Even more surprising was that Admiral Pellew did not wait for the crate to be removed. Instead, accompanied by some cheering and shouting from the hands from both crews, the Admiral had taken the sailors' route, shinning with ease up the ropes.
A cheer erupted from the crew of "Indefatigable", who were handling their own craft. As Mrs Pellew landed safely on the deck with a small "thump", her husband pulled himself over the deck, pushing away offers of help.
As he saw Cicely's astonished face, the Admiral nodded, his expression self-assured as the Marine guard piped him aboard. Cicely then saw Jack and Stephen's faces just over her shoulder. Stephen saw that she had seen him and took several steps over to her, taking her by the arm. Pellew looked them both over, with interest.
"Good afternoon, Sir," intoned Jack, saluting. The men about him, all, in fact except Stephen and Cicely, saluted the Admiral.
"It's an honour and a privilege to welcome you both aboard!"
"Indeed, Captain Aubrey. And an honour and privilege to be aboard. Christmas tidings to one, and all!"
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