The Firebird

Anna stepped carefully onto the wooden stairs set at the waterline, lifting the hem of her petticoat clear of the river as Edmund, who’d climbed up first out of the boat, bent to help her, his hand strongly holding her own.

‘I am not like to fall,’ she assured him. ‘I’ve spent half my life getting on and off ships and small boats.’

‘’Tis your blood,’ Edmund said, ‘same as mine.’

Anna let go his hand as she stepped to his level, and smoothing her skirts asked him, ‘What do you mean, sir?’

‘You Scots and we Irish, and even the English, we’re islanders all.’ Edmund looked to the river, alive with its traffic, and narrowed his eyes to the sun. ‘We’re surrounded by seas and we’d seek to know what lies beyond them, and where those wide waters might carry us.’

Anna could not but agree with him, for from her earliest memories she’d looked to the sea and the distant horizon. She never had outgrown the thrill of sailing the half-day downriver with Vice Admiral Gordon to the naval port of Cronstadt, where the great ships of the Russian fleet all jostled at their anchors, and the Gulf of Finland stretched away towards the larger Baltic Sea. She’d always loved the sound of creaking timbers and of sails that snapped and fluttered as they rose and filled with wind; the ropes that strained and stretched as though the whole ship were a living thing impatient to be free upon the waves.

She looked at Edmund now, his face still turned into the wind, and wondered if he felt the same. ‘And where would you be carried, if you had a ship that you could steer?’ she asked.

He answered without hesitation. ‘Home,’ he said. ‘To Ireland.’

And then, as if he felt that showed a weakness, he looked down at her and found his old sardonic smile. ‘But I cannot attempt it. I’d be hanged before I left the beach, or else transported off to the Americas, for having served King James. I have heard tell the Prince of Hanover, whom some would call King George, is not forgiving of the men who chose the Stewart cause, so I shall have to see our own King back upon the throne before I ever see my home again.’

She said, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why should you be like to pity me?’ he asked. ‘You are as homeless as myself, and have no true kin I can see to give you comfort.’

Anna bristled at his bluntness. ‘Aye, I have a home. And family, though they may not be my own by blood.’

‘I did not mean—’

‘There is a strength, Mr O’Connor, in a family that is chosen, and not merely thrust upon us. From my birth I’ve lived with others not my kin, but not by sufferance, by their choice and invitation, while Vice Admiral Gordon’s late wife’s daughter, Jane, had family who were hers by blood and high of rank, yet were most cruel to her, and treated her with nothing but neglect, and it was not their arms that held her when she breathed her last. Vice Admiral Gordon,’ Anna said, ‘would do the same for me as he did do for Jane, and well I know it, so you will forgive me, sir, if I do not agree that I’ve no family.’

Edmund stood beneath her speech with all the dutiful attention of a schoolboy being lectured, but his eyes took a keen interest in her features, and when she had finished speaking, his reply was only, ‘Do you know, that when you’re in a temper, your Scotch accent grows more strong?’

She gave a feeling sigh. ‘I should have stayed at General Lacy’s house.’

‘But then you would have missed the peaceful pleasure of my company.’ The brown eyes danced. ‘And look, here comes good Mr Taylor. Surely, you’d not wish to miss the chance to speak to him?’

Anna sighed again, and turned, and greeted Mr Taylor with a curtsey while he bowed, but he seemed in a hurry and in no mood to converse. He asked her, ‘Is Sir Harry still with General Lacy?’

Anna told him, ‘He was there when I did leave, not half an hour ago.’

‘Good. Is this your boat? May I engage it? I have news to give Sir Harry, and it cannot be delayed.’

With interest, Edmund asked him, ‘Is it news of Captain Deane?’

The Scotsman turned to look at him. ‘It is, aye. Do you know of Captain Deane, then?’

Anna said, ‘He was a topic of discussion over dinner.’

Mr Taylor told them, low, ‘I’ve just had word that he’s expected into Cronstadt on the day after tomorrow, so Vice Admiral Gordon will be wanting to sail there himself, I should expect, so that he can delay Deane if he’s able to.’

‘The vice admiral,’ Anna said, ‘was also dining at the general’s house, and was there still when we did come away.’

‘Then you’ll excuse me,’ Mr Taylor said, and gave a hasty bow to them, ‘I will away myself, and pass the message.’

Edmund watched the boat depart, then turned and gave his arm to Anna. ‘He’s a good man, Mr Taylor.’

‘Yes, he is.’

‘And Scottish, like yourself.’

‘He is.’

‘And I daresay that he does hop and bound, when he does dance the minuet.’

Her mouth curved, though she turned her head so that he would not see it. ‘Yes, all gentlemen of quality,’ she said, ‘do hop and bound, sir.’

‘So I’m told.’

They crossed the broad exchange, and left the timber walkway for the hard-packed ground of the great square that stretched between the line of warehouses on one side, and the longer line of Colleges that faced it to the west, where General Lacy came each day to work, as did the other great men of the city.