Chapter 18

Alone in the midshipman's birth, reclining in her hammock, Lorna had re-read the orders turning over in her mind all that she had to do and how it was to be accomplished. Did all England's spies receive the same ominously unlabelled and unremarkable package? Was every set of orders, typed so concisely by an unconcerned Admiralty scribe, so remote and imprecise? Expecting the unachievable from impersonal orders that didn't care whether you lived or died, and wanted the world, not caring who you are or how you got it. The infallible copperplate told her nothing, not what to expect nor what to do. Everything that happened would be left to improvisation and fate.

Hastily putting aside her shadowed thoughts, she re-folded the bulky letter along its pristine creases and tucked it away once more into her jacket. Nothing was as impossible as it seemed. Hugging the one knee tucked up into her body, she rested her shin on it, eyes clouded over with thought. What to be done now? Lorna had already decided that since the orders markedly left so much to her discretion, she was entitled to take certain liberties within that. For example she had noticed her orders were rather vague on matters regarding confidentiality. They stated the obvious of course: That her mission was one of utmost secrecy - but no more.

She had to admit to her own slightly guilty conscience that she was interpreting the slight obscurity regarding anything the secrecy-of-self rather loosely; in her mind making 'an omission' perhaps of what the Admiralty had probably taken for granted. My orders state the Mission is a secret, but they never said I was a secret...With these insidious thoughts running in credible rings through her mind, she swung off from the canvas and went to call upon the Captain.

***

And so it was that she stood, hands clasped securely behind her back, on the Quarterdeck of HMS Indefatigable whilst the Captain Sir Edward Pellew stood to the fore, in a voice rather more confident than he really felt, and informed the crew of her true identity. Lorna confined herself to a blank silence as made his speech, and only watched in lofty disinterest as man after man turned their widening eyes upon her, his jaw slack in shock or amazement. Her composure only nearly slipped once as Horatio's eyes changed from one of uncomprehending incredulity to one of profound hurt as he turned to Archie and only found him completely unmoved, even with a half-humoured smile playing on his lips.

The speech had been short, and Lorna had barely listened, but most of its abrupt content had lodged itself in her memory.

"That person, whom you have formally known as Mr Midshipman James Saunders is no more to be recognised as such. I wish to inform you on her behalf that she is, in all veracity, the Lady Hammond, daughter of my fellow Captain the Lord Charles Hammond. I wish you to be aware that her presence is entirely justified as a Servant of the Admiralty." She saw the eyes widen a little further in the cognition of that sentence. "She shall keep her formally recognised rank aboard ship, but now with due reference to her genuine person." He paused for a moment, to draw in a slightly precarious breath; he had not been entirely convinced as to the wisdom of her decision to reveal herself. "Lieutenant Ecclestone [note corrected spelling], you will please dismiss the hands"

He left then, swirling his deep blue cape about broad shoulders and disappeared below decks without so much as a glance about him, to a somewhat forced and breathless call of "All hands to their duties, dismissed!" He left Lorna standing there, immobile, seeming to Archie's poetic disposition as some sort of heavenly apparition that struck dumb and inert all that saw her - so amazed were they by the angel's beauty and golden halo. And so she stood before the sea of unmoving, gaping faces. No one moved and no one ordered them to do so - the command forgotten by Officers, NCOs and common seamen alike as they stood rendered incapacitated in their silent shock. Even the squad of scarlet coated Lobsters, standing smartly to attention not a moment before with even stock leather polished to a gleaming shine, were now reduced to a wondering rabble.

It wasn't long before the silence began to drag on, making Lorna edgy, not that she'd show it. She cleared her throat, determinably audible, and slid with almost a jaunty air down the taff'rail to the lower decks, where the mass was assembled. She was over to Archie, her footsteps sounding eerily loud on the planking.

"Mr Kennedy?" He inclined his head slightly towards her in answering, producing and air of almost conspiratorial confidentiality. He smiled as she spoke for the first time, openly, in her natural accents.

"Yes, Miss Hammond?"

"D'you suppose there'd be anyway of getting the mouths clos'd, " Several mouths closed instantly." An' the hands a little more occupied with their duties? Or maybe that would be impossible fo' what little is left of the day?"

"Probably not possible."

"I'm incline' te agree. Maybe I sh'd put it ter the firs' Lieutenan' ter let the hands have the rest've the day off. Give them all a little time ter let it all sink in, Mr Kennedy."

"I think that's to be recommended, miss."

Lorna walked over to Mr Ecclestone in her usual confident gait, nothing about it indicating it to be anything less than natural. When she looked up into his slightly ruddy, square-jawed face she found his eyes rather hesitant to meet hers.

"With th' respects of Mr Kennedy 'n' m'self, Sir, but d'ye think it might not be prudent te give the crew the rest of the day off from their duties?" The Lieutenant was silent for a few moments, obviously not mentally prepared enough to cope with direct speech from her at precisely that moment. His mind didn't seem quite capable of registering that she had spoken. She raised an eyebrow as she waited (how glad she was becoming of that one facial singularity), a slight indignant thought crossing her mind, at his stubborn, chauvinistic ineptitude to comprehend a woman's existence aboard a ship of war - all of the men for that matter! With the first scathing remark rising to the surface, it was lucky he spoke at last accompanied by his large head nodding in agreement - at first slowly but then so vigorously as to send blonde curls bouncing about on his broad forehead.

"Yes, of course, Mr, Miss, Lady Hammond…" He corrected himself in a haste. " A capital idea, yes, indeed, quite. Erm…" He coughed to cover his rising embarrassment. "If you would be so good as to, er, give the order, er, My Lady." He cleared his throat somewhat gruffly at the incongruity of her pronoun sounding on the end. Lorna was about to walk away when she turned back.

" 'Miss' 'll do fine, sir." She turned back to face the crew. "All Hands! Dismissed!" The disquieting silence remained unbroken, but slowly, yet still without sound, men began to shuffle below - no man trusting himself to make a sound. Soon only Lorna, Horatio and Archie, the Officer of the Watch, remained. And immediately began his pacing with a slow deliberation and a measured pace, leaving his two friends to their silence. It remained uncomfortably unbroken for a few more moments, but for the sound of Archie's shoes on the deck, when instantaneously every man it seemed, below decks, burst into shouting and frantic discourse, which seared up to the M'men's ears through the square-holed gratings.

Lorna gave Horatio a sheepish grin as a clear: "Bloody hell, and a lass all along - to think! Well, didn't I says ter ye, t'was always too pretty for a feller!" could be heard above the rest of the din.

"Styles?" She mouthed the name through her smile. Horatio nodded, but his face retained its stony grimness and her smile quickly faded. His face was thoughtful. "I wouldn't blame yer if you were angry with me, the Lord knows you have enough right to be." His only response was a bitter chuckle. Neither spoke, and Horatio brought his dark eyes to meet hers.

"How long has he known?" He spoke softly, making no indication towards their companion, but Lorna knew whom he meant. She didn't try to avoid the question.

"Since the capture of the Lucille-Mariette." His nod accepted her answer, but still his face was un-emotive.

"Long time." His voice, too, betrayed nothing. She couldn't tell if he was angry, so she asked him. He didn't speak for a few moments, his face still blank, devoid of emotion. It was almost a relief when he answered slowly and deliberately. "I'm trying to be angry; I really should be angry, but…" His eyes were imploring. "I'm believing you had a very good reason for not telling me." His eyes flicked towards Archie's still retreating back, before he could stop himself.

"If it helps: I never told him, he found me out." He looked at the floor, a sigh of relief just escaping his barely open lips as she answered his unasked question.

"I'm glad to hear that." When his eyes rose to meet hers again, they had a glint of their former mischief. "I'm glad you're a girl. I was getting rather worried about the two of you - you know, the tavern?" Archie had just walked past within earshot and struck out at him a little to sharply than to be playful before walking on, but Horatio dodged it and neither he nor Lorna noticed. She only being capable of a little ineffectual stammering, her face aflame like the candles on a Christmas tree.

"That wasn't… We aren'… I don't… I never… I mean…" She gave up in her fluster as Horatio only laughed. "I don't know what I mean." His laughter subsided slowly. When he spoke his voice was deadly earnest

"Today was the first time I've seen you speak to him since." She looked away then; out to sea. Horatio wasn't fool enough not to know when to change tack in the conversation. "I think I'm owed a lengthy explanation, don't you? My Lady? She looked up sharply to reprimand him for the formality, but then she realised.

"Yes, of course Horatio. But before anythin': my name is Lorna."

"Pleased to meet you Lorna." Archie as he turned about to resume pacing along the other length of the ship in the semi-darkness, saw two hands shake. Smiling a bitter smile he resumed his march.