The Baltic Prize

Chapter 41

The next morning Tyger slipped from her moorings without fuss. Saumarez had forbidden the use of valuable powder in vain salutes so there was just the smart exchange of signals followed by a business-like stretching to windward.

Kydd’s orders were terse and to the point: privateers and deterrence. The southern Baltic held the ancient medieval lands that England had traded with for centuries but now ships were being preyed upon mercilessly. Could he make a difference?

He had lesser craft assigned to him: brigs, cutters, sloops, gun-brigs. A frigate would never fear a corsair but these smaller vessels would find it a hard fight if they came upon one alone. And with the numbers that were swarming about in the south this was more than likely.

Kydd was no stranger to privateers – he’d once captained one himself, and knew their habits. And he could see how this coast would be prime hunting for them. If he was to be effective it would have to be by cunning, not force, and Saumarez would be expecting results.

There was a quick knock at the cabin door. ‘Sir?’ Dillon’s head popped around. ‘Some few matters, shouldn’t take long.’

‘Not now, old fellow. Have something I must do.’

Nestled in his waistcoat, next to his heart, was the very first letter he’d received from his wife.

‘Then later. Good day, sir.’

It had been waiting in Victory, in the regular mail run from England. He’d only seen her writing a few times and there on the outside, in her rounded, flowing script, was his name. He’d opened it the first instant he could after seeing the commander-in-chief, and under the half-deck by the deserted wheel of the great ship he’d devoured it.

Now he drew the letter out slowly, savouring the thought of reading it once more.

My darling Thomas!

What a thrill to know that these marks I’m scribbling on this paper will in only a short time be in your own dear hands and then I’m talking to you! This sheet that I kiss because it will be held by you – my darling, how I miss you. And there I go, blubbering like a girl, and I promised you I’d be brave. I’m not good at letters, please forgive my poor words, but each and every one I vow carries my love and feeling for you.

Mr Appleby has finished repairing the stable and I’m to make trial of a delightful bay I saw at the fair. He’s naughty and has spirit and I believe will do most excellently on the moors …

Kydd smiled, recalling the time when Persephone had invited him and Cecilia to go riding on Dartmoor, their stolen kiss as she’d come to his aid after he’d fallen from his horse. That all seemed so long ago, now.

As he read on about her latest painting, he could picture Persephone at her easel in the room they’d chosen for a studio.

I made it a great-sized one. I couldn’t help it, for you’ll agree Iceland’s prospects are stupendous and sublime and I’m so nervous at what you’ll think …

The writing became more controlled, smaller.

We hear that the Tsar is threatening to invade Finland. I’ve looked it up in the atlas and it’s so close to the Baltic! Do take care, my sweetling. I know you must do your duty yet I can’t help but worry about what happens when your British fleet meets those Russian brutes. Know always, my darling, that I’m with you wherever you are.

He found a sheet of paper and prepared to write his very first letter to his beloved wife.

How to begin? What things would interest her? There was so much he had yet to discover about her …

My very dearest Persephone

No! Did he have more than one Persephone? Start again!

HMS Tyger, Bornholm bearing ENE five leagues, wind fair, north-westerly.

Dear Persephone

He chewed his quill. It was one thing being a captain of a man-o’-war and quite another to be husband to a beautiful woman.

I hope you are well. We had a little excitement when the last Danish sail-of-the-line thought to dispute the Great Belt with us. We put them down in a night action. I went ashore in Gothenburg and met the governor.

Really, not much had happened after that, and would she want to know the dull details of daily life aboard a frigate in hostile waters? Perhaps the Archangel venture.

We sailed north to Archangel in the White Sea, which is athwart the Barents Sea, and clear to northwards of the Arctic Circle but I can reassure you my dearest it is well to the south of the polar ice-pack. Tyger did several noble deeds …

It was hard to think of anything else and he ended the letter with some observations on the singular weather patterns to be encountered in the Baltic, closing with his undying love.