Sharpe was still too scared to speak. All he could think of was the sensation of his fingers slipping over the rough tarred rope, but at last he managed to gasp a thank you and promised to reward the man with a pound of tobacco from his stores.
“Almost lost you there, Sharpe!” Chase said cheerfully when Sharpe regained the quarterdeck.
“Terrifying,” Sharpe said, and looked at his hands that were scored deep with tar.
Lady Grace had also seen his near fall. She had not been near Sharpe now for the best part of a week, and her distance worried him. She had exchanged glances with him once or twice, and those swift looks had seemed to be filled with a mute appeal, but there had been no chance to talk with her and she had not risked coming to his cabin in the heart of the night. Now she was standing on the lee side of the quarterdeck, close to her husband who was speaking with Malachi Braithwaite, and she seemed to hesitate before approaching Sharpe, but then, with a visible effort, she made herself cross the deck. Malachi Braithwaite watched her, while her husband frowned at a sheaf of papers.
“We make slow progress today, Captain Chase,” she said stiffly.
“We have a current, milady, which invisibly helps us, but I do wish the wind would pipe up.” Chase frowned at the sails. “Some folk believe whistling encourages the wind, but it never seems to work.” He whistled two bars of “Nancy Dawson,” but the wind stayed light. “See?”
Lady Grace stared at Chase, apparently at a loss for words, and the captain suddenly sensed that she was in some distress. “Milady?” he inquired with a concerned frown.
“You could perhaps show me on a chart where we are, Captain?” she blurted out.
Chase hesitated, confused by the sudden request. “It will be a pleasure, milady,” he said. “The charts are in my day cabin. Will his lordship … “
“I shall be quite safe in your cabin, Captain,” Lady Grace said.
“The ship’s yours, Mister Peel,” Chase said to the second lieutenant, then led Lady Grace under the break of the poop to the door on the larboard side which led into the dining cabin. Lord William saw them and frowned, making Chase pause. “You wish to see the charts, my lord?” the captain asked.
“No, no,” Lord William said, and returned to the papers.
Braithwaite watched Sharpe, and Sharpe knew he must not arouse the secretary’s suspicions, but he did not believe Lady Grace truly wanted to see the charts and so, ignoring Braithwaite’s hostile gaze, he went to his sleeping cabin which lay beyond the starboard door under the poop deck. He knocked on the farther door, which led from the sleeping cabin into the day cabin, but there was no answer and so he let himself into the big stern cabin. “Sharpe!” Chase showed a small flash of irritation for, friendly as he was, his quarters were sacrosanct and he had not responded to the knock on the door.
“Captain,” Lady Grace said, laying a hand on his arm, “please.”
Chase, who had been unrolling a chart, looked from her to Sharpe and from Sharpe back to Lady Grace again. He let the chart roll up with a snap. “I clean forgot to wind the chronometers this morning,” he said. “Would you forgive me?” He went past Sharpe into the dining cabin, ostentatiously closing the door with a deliberately loud click.
“Oh God, Richard.” Lady Grace ran to him and hugged him. “Oh, God!”
“What’s the matter?”
For a few seconds she did not speak, but then realized she had little time if tongues were not to wag about herself and the captain. “It’s my husband’s secretary,” she said.
“I know all about him.”
“You do?” She stared at him wide-eyed.
“He’s blackmailing you?” Sharpe guessed.
She nodded. “And he watches me.”
Sharpe kissed her. “Leave him to me. Now go, before anyone starts a rumor.”
She kissed him fiercely, then went back onto the deck scarce two minutes after she had left it. Sharpe waited until Chase, who had wound his chronometers at dawn as he always did, came back to the day cabin. Chase rubbed his face tiredly, then looked at Sharpe. “Well, I never,” he said, then sat in his deep armchair. “It’s called playing with fire, Sharpe.”