Tyger

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L’AURORE WAS NEW-MOORED off the legendary Plymouth Hoe. After so long at sea, and the strangeness and allure of foreign shores, it was gratifying to take in the deep green softness of England.

“Do excuse my not seeing you ashore, Renzi old fellow,” Captain Sir Thomas Kydd said, taking his friend’s hand warmly. “You know I’m bound to sail back to Cadiz to rejoin the fleet and-”

“Dear chap, allow that I’ve a modicum of experience in the sea service and do respect your bounden duty. To be borne back to England in your inestimable bark has been more than my deserving.”

Kydd’s commander-in-chief, Admiral Collingwood, had been generous in allowing the frigate that had rescued this peer of the realm from a Turkish prison to continue on to England. Now they must part-Renzi to his seat in Wiltshire and Kydd to restore HMS L’Aurore to the blockading fleet as soon as possible.

“You’ll give my respects to Cec-that is, your noble wife, won’t you?” That his young sister had married an earl and was now a countess was still a thing of wonder to Kydd.

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