of any apparent ladies’ maids, but she noticed that Adelaide wore the same plain serge gown as earlier. Looking around, all the officers’ wives were in day dress; it seemed dinner was not a dressy occasion.
‘Why didn’t you warn me not to wear evening dress?’ she whispered to Charlie, feeling embarrassed.
He grinned. ‘I love to see you all dressed up. You are by far the most beautiful woman on the ship and I’m so proud to be with you.’
The food was plain cooking: soup, stew, pudding, with not even a fish course. The conversation was lively, though, with the men talking of war, and the belligerent stance of the Russian Tsar Nicholas I who dreamed of creating a huge empire in the East from the remains of the tottering Ottoman Empire.
‘Do you have children?’ Lucy asked Adelaide, and realised she had touched a raw nerve when tears sprang to Adelaide’s eyes, which she blinked away before replying.
‘We have a little girl called Martha, who is four, and a boy, Archie, who’s just three. I’m sorry …’ She closed her eyes briefly to regain control. ‘It was a wrench leaving them behind, although they are with my mother and will receive the best of care. I decided that Bill needed me more. I want to make sure he has a clean uniform and decent food as well as a woman’s comfort while he is out fighting for us.’
‘Well, of course,’ Lucy agreed. ‘All the same, I can imagine how difficult it must have been to leave your little darlings.’ Adelaide must be in her twenties to have such young children, she guessed; she looked older, her face tanned and lined by the sun.
After dinner, Lucy and Charlie strolled out on deck to watch as the Shooting Star pulled out of harbour then promptly came to a halt while they waited for the wind to change. She felt a thrill run through her: it was the first time she had left English soil. She felt so lucky to be there, with the man she loved. In their cabin, Charlie poured glasses of some rum he had brought along and they toasted the voyage: ‘We’re on our way!’ He raised his glass and she did the same. ‘This is where the adventure begins! And I am the happiest man alive that you are here by my side.’ He gazed at her and despite his words she could see the sadness in his eyes. She knew his loneliness after being cast off by his family still haunted him, although it had happened five years earlier. ‘If you had been unable to come, I swear I would have deserted from the army. I couldn’t bear to be without you now, Lucy.’
His words caught in his throat and Lucy knew how deeply they were felt. It was part of what made her love him so wholeheartedly: the sense that beneath his confident manner there was a vulnerable man who needed her in a way she had never been needed before.
‘I know, darling, and I couldn’t be without you either.’ She stroked his dear face with the tips of her fingers.
‘We are so lucky to have found each other,’ he breathed. ‘Before I met you, I was nothing, a hollow shell of a man. I had no family, just some friends who enjoy me larking around: “Good old Charlie, he’s always up for some fun.” But with you I can be myself and know you love me no matter what.’
‘I will always love you …’ she began to say but Charlie silenced her by covering her mouth with kisses so tender that her heart almost stopped. They fell onto the bed and while they made love she marvelled at his passion; she loved the way he lost himself completely in her, loved the amazing secret of married love into which she had now been initiated.
He fell asleep straight afterwards with his arm wrapped around her neck. She would have to wake him later because both were still half-clothed: her petticoats were twisted beneath her while he still wore his dress shirt, but she would let him rest awhile.
When she opened her eyes the next morning, Lucy could sense from a gentle rolling motion that the ship was on the move and she felt a quiver of excitement. That rolling became less gentle as the day progressed, and she had to press a hand to the corridor wall for support as she and Adelaide made their way to luncheon. Charlie’s day was spent trying to settle the horses, who neighed and whinnied, terrified of their enclosure in this rocking vessel, so Lucy and Adelaide strolled the deck gazing at the grey-green seas that surrounded them and took meals together. They went down to visit the soldiers’ wives again and Lucy was astonished to find some standing around in drawers and stays without a hint of modesty but she chatted as before, asking if their food was adequate and whether they saw more of their husbands than she was seeing of hers. She joked that Captain Harvington seemed to care more about the horses than his new wife, but in fact she loved the caring way he spoke of those magnificent creatures, particularly his own horse, Merlin, and his determination that he would do all he could to see they survived the journey unscathed.
On the second day, as they entered the Bay of Biscay, the sea became choppy. Loose objects fell from shelves and a little flower vase of Lucy’s was smashed on the cabin floor, startling her. After dressing, she made her way to Adelaide’s cabin to find her friend vomiting into a bedpan, her face bleached of colour and eyes sunken in their sockets. Lucy gave her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth, then went to find a steward who would empty the bedpan and bring a fresh pitcher of water.
‘All the other ladies are sick as well, Ma’am,’ the steward told her. ‘You must have a strong constitution.’
Sure enough, she heard retching sounds from Mrs Duberly’s cabin, although the quartermaster’s wife came to dinner that evening and remarked to Lucy she thought it a poor show that Adelaide didn’t make the effort to join them.
In fact, for the next three days poor Adelaide couldn’t keep down more than a few sips of water and Lucy was concerned for her. There was no doctor on board but the steward found a supply of Tarrant’s Seltzer so Lucy fed Adelaide teaspoonfuls of it, trying to keep her spirits up by telling her that the rough weather must pass soon; everyone said it must. She herself remained miraculously immune to the seasickness, and was able to go down to the soldiers’ wives and dispense fizzing glasses of seltzer to them too. It was good to feel useful, and as Adelaide began to recover Lucy sat and read to her, growing fonder by the day of her sweet nature. She was the kind of woman who would never hear bad of another; a woman whose outlook was sunny even while she was feeling so ill.
On their fourth night at sea there was a horrendous storm. Waves crashed against the side of the ship, lightning crackled and lit up the entire sky, and the frightened whinnying of horses filled the air. Lucy couldn’t sleep a wink but sat petrified by their porthole, watching the violence of the storm outside, while Charlie spent the night down below, sponging the horses’ nostrils with vinegar in an attempt to calm them. At one stage there was a terrible cracking sound, like an explosion, and for a moment Lucy feared they had been attacked by the Russians. She wrapped the silk bedspread around her, rubbing it against her lip for comfort as she used to do as a child when she fled to her mother’s bed after a nightmare. If only Charlie would come soon. There were a few terrifying hours before the worst was over, but as soon as dawn broke with a pale pink shimmer, the storm passed and the ship stopped rolling.
Charlie returned with some awful news: ‘The mizzen top and the main top mast broke at the height of the storm and crushed a man’s leg as they fell to deck.’
She was shocked. ‘Will he be all right?’
He shook his head. ‘He’ll lose the leg, for sure. Two of our horses – Moondance and Greystokes – perished. I couldn’t settle them and the poor creatures raved themselves to death.’
‘Is Merlin all right?’
‘Yes, thank goodness. Biscay is always rough but this is the worst storm I’ve experienced and it followed us right down the coast of Spain and Portugal. At least we’re through it now.’
Spain
