gone somewhere else altogether, he was surely at the chateau.
Why had the place not been searched? Did Beauchene have some acquaintance with importance in Bonaparte’s new empire that would make a mere naval captain reluctant to disturb him? If so, how was it that the man had not signaled the ship himself, and surrendered his guest?
Then again, if Beauchene accepted Will’s story, he might feel that while an Englishman was an unusual sort of guest this far off the beaten path, his presence was not a threat. In fact, this far removed from contact with the larger world and tied to his home by poor health, the poor old sod might be so desperate for any company at all that Will would have to steal the silver and seduce the housemaid for Beauchene to throw him out.
And Will, for his part, would be trapped almost literally between the devil and the deep blue sea. Whether or not Dr. Colbert showed up, Will could not venture out of the chateau until the French frigate had given up waiting and gone on its way.
There was no chance the Frenchman would give up so long as the Mermaid kept hovering about. What Archer needed most was a diversion to bring that Frenchman out and send him elsewhere. If they were at war, that could be easily managed by sending a few men ashore with some gunpowder a little way up the coast. But the Mermaid’s boat was too small to get men in and out again before the frigate would be upon them, and in any case this was not the place to fire the first shot of new hostilities.
There was one other thing he might try. He could go ashore at the dark of the moon, with a handful of men, and see if he could bring Will out under cover of night. That tactic stood a chance of success. The only problem with it was that if it worked at all, it would work once, and only once, and if he went in to fetch Will before the doctor arrived, they would not get another chance.
He had to draw that frigate out of the harbor. What I really need most is another ship.
What I really need is Will.
He stood at the rail for a long time, gazing out at the roof-line of the chateau, a ghostly silhouette in the light of moon and stars. He should have taken a chance, pushed past Will’s natural reticence, climbed out of his own hammock and into his lover’s. He should not have allowed his resentment at the unopened letters to keep him from asking for what he knew Will wanted to give.
He should not have let that foolish, acrimonious exchange be the last conversation they might ever have.
He should not…and he would not. But he could not be in two places at once; he would need help.
“Barrow,” he said to the patient sailor standing only a few feet away, “Take us out. North-northeast, show no lights until we’re over the horizon, but keep a close eye for other ships.”
“This is astonishing,” Marshall said, delighted by the complexity of the work spread out before him. He and Beauchene had spent much of the morning and nearly all afternoon in the library, located in a room with south and west windows—to catch the brightest light, the scholar said, to help his weak vision.
Marshall had seen some of these formulae applied to fortifications, but he had never encountered the work in its entirety. It was no boast to say that Monge was a true genius. “The simplicity of it—this would save hours of calculation!”
“Indeed, it would,” Beauchene said. “And the wonder of this is that M. Monge developed it when he was but a student at the military academy. Before this was discovered, simply to work out the calculations for défflement of a fortress could take—oh, many hours longer. When he first used it, his own teacher did not want to accept that he was able to complete the work so quickly.”
Marshall had asked permission to take notes, but he still felt faintly guilty at being given such valuable information. “Are you certain you should be showing me this, monsieur? After all, our countries are likely to be
Why had the place not been searched? Did Beauchene have some acquaintance with importance in Bonaparte’s new empire that would make a mere naval captain reluctant to disturb him? If so, how was it that the man had not signaled the ship himself, and surrendered his guest?
Then again, if Beauchene accepted Will’s story, he might feel that while an Englishman was an unusual sort of guest this far off the beaten path, his presence was not a threat. In fact, this far removed from contact with the larger world and tied to his home by poor health, the poor old sod might be so desperate for any company at all that Will would have to steal the silver and seduce the housemaid for Beauchene to throw him out.
And Will, for his part, would be trapped almost literally between the devil and the deep blue sea. Whether or not Dr. Colbert showed up, Will could not venture out of the chateau until the French frigate had given up waiting and gone on its way.
There was no chance the Frenchman would give up so long as the Mermaid kept hovering about. What Archer needed most was a diversion to bring that Frenchman out and send him elsewhere. If they were at war, that could be easily managed by sending a few men ashore with some gunpowder a little way up the coast. But the Mermaid’s boat was too small to get men in and out again before the frigate would be upon them, and in any case this was not the place to fire the first shot of new hostilities.
There was one other thing he might try. He could go ashore at the dark of the moon, with a handful of men, and see if he could bring Will out under cover of night. That tactic stood a chance of success. The only problem with it was that if it worked at all, it would work once, and only once, and if he went in to fetch Will before the doctor arrived, they would not get another chance.
He had to draw that frigate out of the harbor. What I really need most is another ship.
What I really need is Will.
He stood at the rail for a long time, gazing out at the roof-line of the chateau, a ghostly silhouette in the light of moon and stars. He should have taken a chance, pushed past Will’s natural reticence, climbed out of his own hammock and into his lover’s. He should not have allowed his resentment at the unopened letters to keep him from asking for what he knew Will wanted to give.
He should not have let that foolish, acrimonious exchange be the last conversation they might ever have.
He should not…and he would not. But he could not be in two places at once; he would need help.
“Barrow,” he said to the patient sailor standing only a few feet away, “Take us out. North-northeast, show no lights until we’re over the horizon, but keep a close eye for other ships.”
“This is astonishing,” Marshall said, delighted by the complexity of the work spread out before him. He and Beauchene had spent much of the morning and nearly all afternoon in the library, located in a room with south and west windows—to catch the brightest light, the scholar said, to help his weak vision.
Marshall had seen some of these formulae applied to fortifications, but he had never encountered the work in its entirety. It was no boast to say that Monge was a true genius. “The simplicity of it—this would save hours of calculation!”
“Indeed, it would,” Beauchene said. “And the wonder of this is that M. Monge developed it when he was but a student at the military academy. Before this was discovered, simply to work out the calculations for défflement of a fortress could take—oh, many hours longer. When he first used it, his own teacher did not want to accept that he was able to complete the work so quickly.”
Marshall had asked permission to take notes, but he still felt faintly guilty at being given such valuable information. “Are you certain you should be showing me this, monsieur? After all, our countries are likely to be
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