Nick let out a huff of annoyance. “All I did was ask her to marry me. And talk about her staying home at Langston Hall while I’m gone, where she’d be safe. Like Caroline. Like her own mother.”
Norton stared at him in disbelief, then buried his face in his hands and shook his head.
Nick felt like his wits were being weighed and found wanting.
Norton rested his hands on Nick’s shoulders and stared into his eyes. “Can you picture Caroline dressed like a sailor and hauling on a line?”
Nick snorted. “She’s never even come down to the docks to see the Wind Dancer.”
Norton capped the gin bottle. “Precisely. She has no interest. She’s content to run the house and estate in my absence. And do you know why I’m so often absent?”
Because you’re off sailing with me didn’t seem likely to be the correct answer, so Nick gingerly shook his head.
“Caroline and I get along well precisely because I’m gone so much. Don’t get me wrong, we love each other. When we’re naked together, we—”
Nick winced and held up a hand.
Norton cleared his throat. “Suffice to say, we have no problems in the bedroom. But she doesn’t like that I smoke, even if I only indulge my pipe in my study or in the garden. I enjoy her book club meetings on the second Tuesday of each month, but she wants me to attend her bible study group every Wednesday and go to church with her on Sunday mornings, whereas I’d rather stay abed and worship at the altar of her darling little—”
“That’s more than I need to know,” Nick interrupted him.
Norton shrugged. “Harry is not conventional like Caroline. If you wanted a conventional wife, you could have your pick of the society misses in London. But they’ve never interested you.”
Nick wanted to argue and prove he was in the right, but a ray of sunshine broke through the clouds and shone through the glass, gilding the rose bushes. He pointed at the windows. “I have to go check our position.”
“Yes, you certainly do,” Norton muttered.
* * *
Their position was that they were just passing Ushant, an island off the coast of France, which Bos’n communicated to the larboard watch on deck. Nick gave the orders to trim the sails as they steered two more points east-northeast. As expected, Jack set off singing the first verse of “Spanish Ladies.” The crew sang it every time they sailed past Ushant or Scilly, unless they were running silent.
“Farewell and adieu to you Spanish ladies,
Farewell and adieu to you, to you ladies of Spain;
For we’ve received orders for to sail for old England
But we hope very soon we shall see you again.”
His watchmates chimed in on the chorus as they hauled on the lines to trim the sheets.
“We’ll rant and we’ll roar like true British sailors,
We’ll rant and we’ll roar all on the salt seas,
Until we strike soundings in the Channel of old England,
From Ushant to Scilly ‘tis thirty-five leagues.”
It had always amused him that Chang, Luigi, Dieter and Winston sang it with enthusiasm equal to their English mates. Jack was the only one who had actually taken the King’s shilling for a few years. Nick’s other crew were merchantmen or former pirates. Sometimes their skills and unconventional sense of honor came in handy.
But Winston was gone, and Harriet was singing in his place, her contralto blending in harmony with Jack and Chang’s tenor and Tucker’s baritone brogue.
Tucker sang the second verse, then without hesitation Harriet sang the third, then back to Jack. Though the wind carried parts of it away, Nick clearly heard Harriet on the final verse:
“So let every man toss off a full bumper,
And let every man drink up a full glass;
