Mother and I were bent over a register, tracing over the performance of her investments. A third party was also looking over them, although he was more focused on playing with Mother's necklace. Adam seemed to find it fascinating, and Mother had to reach down and tug it out of his mouth every now and then.
It at least kept him from drooling on the papers.
I hadn't expected Sophie to bring him to the house when I had told her that I had arranged for her to have an afternoon with Morris, but apparently Rebecca was ill and she didn't trust anyone to watch him. I had called Mother after the two of them had headed upstairs, begging for her to meet me at the offices. The Reichster driver had been sent off by Sophie earlier, so there was only Lewis and Rigel to watch me struggle out of the house with Adam in my arms.
I had pretended I didn't hear Lewis snicking the whole drive over.
Mother had been far too glad to see him again, and I watched her handle him with a grim smile on my lips. She should have been caring for her own grandson, my son, but the most I could manage for her was letting her have the occasional moment with a friend's child, when I could arrange for his mother to meet her lover.
So, she bounced Adam while we discussed her investments. They were all performing well, and she had reinvested her profits in order to take a controlling stake in several new businesses. A rail line, an iron mine, a steel mill, and shortly she'd be the owner of three new munitions factories that had sprung up quickly to supply the Entente.
I peered closely at the profit report for them, "Well, they're a good thing to have now but what about when the war finishes? This boom isn't going to last forever."
"Once munitions and ammunition aren't profitable, we simply change the production." Mother shrugged, lifting Adam up and smiling. "There are plenty of things we could turn the machinery and workers to, tinned food maybe. And the steel mills will still be in use after. As will the rail line. Between all of those we're expecting to increase our assets by more than half in a few years."
"You've been talking to Mr. Keller." I muttered, sliding the report away. "What else have you sunk our money into?"
"A shipyard!" Mother chuckled, twirling around with Adam. "We can build our own ships, with our own steel, and even take on contracts! Whenever Lieutenant Greenwood leaves the Navy, I'll snap him up and set him in charge of a naval architecture office for us so we can design our own ships. Then Sophie won't have to displace you out of your house whenever she wants him."
"And I have a feeling he'll receive an adequate salary to cover the expenses for Sophie divorcing Zachary." I chuckled, "Mother, you need to stop planning things so far ahead."
"You can say that once you've seen the nursery plans I've made for you." She set Adam down in her chair. "Oh, look, Ezekiel!"
I looked over, and indeed, Ezekiel was standing outside the office door. His eyes were wide as he peered through the glass, and his movements were stiff when I waved him in. "Annie, who's baby is that?"
I looked to Adam, "Zachary and Sophie's."
"Christ Annie, kidnapping?" He ran a hand though his hair, the wild red locks finally tamed a bit from being stuck under his cap. "I mean, I know I want to kill his father but I never expected you to kidnap his child."
"We're watching him for his mother," Mother picked Adam up, "She's meeting with her lover."
Ezekiel sighed, "I don't even want to ask about that. But can you hand him off to someone? I need things to be intimidating, and I cannot see anything being intimidating with him around."
That quieted us, and I pursed my lips. "Mother, perhaps Mr. Keller could take care of Adam for a bit."
Mr. Keller was more than amenable to take care of him, joking about two Adams spending some quality time together. So it was in a deadly silent room that two of Ezekiel's men dragged another in, his hands bound and a canvas sack over his head. Ezekiel roughly shoved him into a chair, then jerked the sack off to reveal a rather rough looking man. Short brown hair, a broken nose, a flushed face and darting green eyes.
Ezekiel stayed where he was, looming over him. "I caught this thief trying to break into my safe."
"Please, please ma'am, I didn't do anything." The man brought his hands up in supplication. "I don't know what he's talking about."
I raised a brow. "And you think I'd believe you over him?"
"What were you after?" Mother cut right to the quick. "Who paid you? Where did you come on?"
"He came on in Southampton, a quick hire for the crossing." Ezekiel crossed his arms, leaning against my desk. "I'd answer them if you want to get out of here with all your fingers."
The man stammered, "N-n-no one hired me. I just, I thought there might be some money. Captains make a lot of money, I just thought I could grab something."
"Unlikely." Mother sniffed, staring down her nose at him. "If you're honest I'll at least have you sent home. Otherwise, I'll see you thrown in an American jail, and you can say goodbye to any chance of seeing England's sunny shores again."
The man paled. "Y-you're right, I was paid. Someone gave me some money and told me to get whatever was in the safe. And to bring it to them. I swear, that's all!"
"Who?"
"I don't know, someone who was hired by someone else. That's all he would say."
I looked to Mother, "Henry?"
"More than likely." Mother shook her head, "Ezekiel, have him confined. Question him a few more times, just to make sure there's nothing more."
Ezekiel's men were called back inside, and the thief dragged out. He ran his hands through his hair, messing it this time, once we were alone. "Why would the Reichsters want what's in my safe?"
"Because they don't know it's candy and letters." I teased, "How many pounds did you bring back for your mother this time?"
He flushed, "Annie, you know if I didn't bring over a hundred pounds of sugar each trip that candy store would be out of business. And he gives free candy to the less well-off children!"
"And you come home with plenty of toffee for Morgan." Mother rolled her eyes. "She's coming over, right?"
"We all are, you two don't need to be alone that day." Ezekiel sighed, "And I've got your letters, although he was headed back out awfully fast our man said, didn't even have a pint before he left." I nodded, and Ezekiel came to sit on the edge of my desk. "Anyone else coming that night?"
"Oscar, and the Moodys." I smiled, remembering how Liz and James had been since they had come back from their honeymoon. Slightly tanned, all smiles and giggles, when you were around them it was like the whole world faded away and I had often found myself watching them, mooneyed and thinking of Will. It made Oscar miserable, and I was dearly looking forward to seeing him grumble the whole night.
It was at least distracting from my memories.
Will counted the days by the meals that were brought to him. Three meals to a day, a few trips to the head, and then back to bed. He passed his time reading through Ana's letters, and eventually digging out her earlier letters. She wrote so beautifully, about everything fun that he was missing, and she assured him of her love every time.
My dearest wish is to have you home, my love.
Will grimaced when he read that, because he would not see her for a long time, if ever, after this court martial. So far as he could tell, a week had passed before they returned to Rosyth and he was told to be ready to move to where he would be held until his trial. Owing to his and Quigley's rank, they were granted a couple of rooms in the plain house that the yard officers stayed in.
They were even permitted to roam the yard, a couple of bored Marines following them at a distance.
The large cut on Quigley's scalp had scabbed over, although just looking at it made Will want to scratch at his chest. The yard's surgeon had seen to him once he had arrived, and the stitches had been removed. He would have a scar, and he had spent some time looking at himself in a mirror and hoping that Ana wouldn't mind it. It was a nasty thing, stretching in an angry red line from his left pectoral to just before his collarbone.
Quigley must have noticed him woolgathering, for he nudged him. "Sir, you shouldn't worry yourself too much. You're going to get off fine, I'll be in more trouble than you! They don't take kindly to laying hands on a superior officer."
"You only did it to prevent further violence." Will shook his head. "I'm sure they'll take that into consideration."
"Well, if one good thing comes out of his, we won't be under Bligh anymore." Quigley chuckled, a rueful smile on his lips. "Hopefully no one will."
Will had to give him that, "One thing I'm surprised is that they haven't brought us our barristers for the trial."
"That is odd." Quigley knitted his brow. "Now, I haven't been court martialed before but I'm to understand that they usually come to you fairly quick to work on your case."
"What case we have." Will muttered, and turned back for the house. March had moved into April relatively quickly, which meant that the ever-present rain had returned to Scotland. Will loved his homeland, but even he tired of the rain after endless days of drizzle. Quigley kept up his chatter as they turned around, the Marines clearly grateful to head back to where they could be warm and dry while they supervised their charges.
Will was glad to return to his room, which was relatively comfortable. A plain bed, a ewer and basin to wash, a wardrobe for his clothes, a space for his trunk and an electric heater that he turned on. He couldn't help but smile as he sat on his bed, seeing an envelope had been slid under his door. They'd been arriving since they'd made port, notes from the junior officers to keep his spirits up. He had no doubt the Marines read them before sliding them under the door, but so far it had been nothing scandalous. Good wishes, remarks about how the Peterel had done during her inspection, how glad they all were to have a little leave after the constant patrols had worn them down.
But the envelope that had been left this time contained something that made Will grit his teeth.
Mr. Murdoch,
Your trial is tomorrow, the fifteenth of April, at ten. Admiral Bryant will be sitting in judgement. You will present yourself in your RN uniform for your sentencing.
Nathaniel Bligh, Captain
Will rubbed his face, groaning. He hadn't realized how close it was to the anniversary, and his thought returned again to Ana. She felt the anniversary more acutely than he did it seemed, and he wanted nothing more than to return to her and comfort her. But she would be alone, aside from Ruth. He had no doubt her mother would see her through it, even though it was a hard time for them both.
Needless to say, he did not sleep well that night.
His dreams contained swirling water, splintering glass that tore at him and the cries of freezing men and women. The screams would always stay with him, the pleas for help and mercy that had echoed throughout the night. And Will hadn't been able to do anything to help them, and his dreams made them worse. Ana, screaming for him, her hair icy and skin blue as she struggled in the water. She sunk down though, the ice and water weighing her down just as it had the U-boat.
He had woken in a cold sweat from that.
In the morning he splashed his face with cold water to wake himself up and banish the memories from the night before, knotted his tie perfectly, and donned his ill-fitting jacket. It had been washed and retuned to him, and he had passed a few hours during their cruise back stitching it back together with the housewife Ana had sent him. The fact that it had been torn was still apparent, but at least the hole wasn't there.
Quigley looked much better turned out than him, his sword clutched in his hands. The Marines didn't speak as they escorted them through the yard to the main offices, and Will was grateful that even Quigley was quiet. He felt wound so tightly that if Quigley had tried to make light of things he would have snapped at the lad.
Although Will's composure threatened to break when they arrived outside the Admiral's office, for the junior officers had filled the hallway, standing at attention as he came in.
They offered smiles, pats on his back and shoulder, words of encouragement as they walked past. Will almost teared up as they did so, because despite their encouragement, he knew he was doomed. Bligh would turn things to his favor, Bligh had connections and Will had no one. He was a dead man walking, but they refused to see it.
The Admiral's aide greeted them outside the office, going in to announce them. Will and Quigley waited awkwardly, especially because the aide came back quickly and went to one of the Marines. "Please return to Commander Murdoch's quarters and fetch his uniform with his proper rank, and his sword. Admiral Bryant wishes him to be presented properly."
Will started at that, although the Marine only nodded and left. Quigley gave him a smile, although his fingers were still tight around the scabbard of his sword. It was only a brief moment before the Marine returned, and the aide himself helped Will into his coat. His movements were still a bit stiff from his wound, and he mumbled his thanks once he had been dressed.
He rubbed his fingers over the brass buttons, doing his best to shine them while keeping ahold of his sword. He wasn't sure why he was to hold it, but Quigley seemed to know so Will just copied him. The aide looked to the both of them, nodding. "Much better, Admiral Bryant is waiting."
The door was opened, and the aide led them inside. Admiral Bryant was slightly older than Will, standing ramrod straight behind his desk. He nodded to the both of them. "Commander Murdoch, Lieutenant Quigley. Please sit, this should be over quickly."
Quigley sat, laying his sword across the desk in front of him. Will did the same and glanced aside as he sat behind one of the small tables that had been set before Admiral Bryant's desk, seeing Bligh fuming in a chair. It was only once Will sat that the captain spoke. "Sir, I must protest that Mr. Murdoch is allowed that uniform."
"He has earned that rank, Captain." Admiral Bryan didn't even deign to look at Bligh. "I delayed this in order to allow him to present himself with his rank." He did glance to Will. "Why were you wearing a Lieutenant's jacket, Commander Murdoch?"
Will kept his eyes only on Bryant. "Captain Bligh left a note informing me that the court martial was to be held today, and that I should present myself in that jacket. That was what he insisted I wear while I was onboard."
"You were not allowed to wear your proper uniform?"
"No, sir."
"Were you at least addressed by your rank?"
"No, sir."
"And your duties onboard?"
"I assisted in the torpedo rooms and the turrets when able."
Bryant raised an eyebrow at that, "You were not allowed to assist with navigation? As a senior officer that should have been your bread and butter."
"Admiral Bryant," Will couldn't help a slight smile at seeing Bligh squirm a bit in his chair after Bryant's questions. "I was not treated as a senior officer and Captain Bligh specifically told me that he would never treat me that way. I was told by him, when I first met him, that he intended to treat me as the lowest ranking officer onboard. He kept his word on that."
"Hmmm." Bryant steepled his fingers. "And yet we have reports that you did assist with navigation and acted in command, at least on one occasion."
Will swallowed, "I did, of my own accord. I noticed some mistakes in courses plotted by some of the other junior officers and corrected them of my own volition. Aside from the day that we encountered the U-boat, I did nothing beyond corrections to courses calculated by my fellow junior officers."
Bryant leaned back in his chair, "And why were you overseeing the bridge on that day?"
Will sat up a bit straighter, a bit of perverse glee at getting to reveal Bligh's incompetence rising within him, "The night before Captain Bligh and the other senior officers celebrated a birthday among their set. They were indisposed from their celebrations, leaving myself as the highest ranking officer available to supervise the ship that morning."
"That's a lie!" Bligh exploded, standing from his chair. "My officers and I were locked inside our rooms by Murdoch and his conspirators. We tried desperately to escape and if the ship had been sunk, we would have died!"
"He's lying!" Quigley shouted, slamming his hand on the table. "Commander Murdoch specifically told one of the officers to try and wake all of them before going to his post, none of them showed themselves until after the action had passed!"
Admiral Bryant stood, "Gentlemen! Behave yourselves, we are all officers here and we will conduct ourselves as such. Commander Murdoch, did you send someone to wake the captain?"
Will nodded, "Yes, sir. I told him to try for two minutes before going to his post. After that time passed, I was sure that no higher ranking officer would be coming, so I assumed command for the action."
"Describe the action for me." Bryant sat back down, his gray eyes clear and bright as Will began his tale. He described how Bligh had placed the ship in a disadvantageous position, how he only deviated from Bligh's orders in order to bring the ship into action. Will recounted the strike to the bridge, gesturing to his chest. At that Bryant demanded him to remove his shirt to see the remains of the wound and Quigley was obliged to brush back his hair and reveal his scab.
Bryant pursed his lips as Will donned his uniform again, "And Captain Bligh did not make an appearance until you were in the infirmary?"
"Yes, sir." Will finished the last of his buttons, sitting back down. "I'm afraid I was in a daze after the action and did not notice the captain arriving. I only noticed when," Will hesitated, looking to Quigley who had paled. "I only noticed when Lieutenant Quigley grabbed the captain, who began accusing me of damaging the ship deliberately."
"I see," Bryant looked to the pale boy. "And why did you lay hands on a superior officer?"
Quigley gulped. "Commander Murdoch was in no state to defend himself and Captain Bligh had his fist raised and was going to strike him. I only acted to defend Commander Murdoch, and only laid hands on Captain Bligh twice to prevent him from causing harm to an injured man."
"I would never attack an injured man!" Bligh snapped, his arms folded. "I waited until Mr. Murdoch returned to the wardroom to confine him to quarters."
Bryant picked up a paper on his desk. "And yet I have a sworn statement here, from your surgeon, reporting that you threatened to confine both of these men to the brig." If it hadn't been such a serious moment, Will would have laughed at how Bligh's face seemed to change color rapidly before settling on a deathly gray. Bryant ran a finger down the typed text, "His statements match Lieutenant Quigley's testimony. And the testimony from the other officers that day confirm Commander Murdoch's report of you and your staff overindulging the night before."
"S-s-sir," Bligh stammered, "They're lying, they're doing this to ruin me." He turned to Quigley and Will, "I'm not the one facing a court martial!"
"And neither are they." Bryant smirked, "Take your swords back boys, you won't be losing your commission today." Bryant stood, sorting through the papers on his desk. "I felt Captain Bligh's description of events were faulty, and had my staff interview those involved in order to determine exactly what was being obscured. I have referenced them to each other, and find that they match Commander Murdoch's description of events."
He pulled a paper from his desk, turning to Bligh. "If anyone should be facing a court martial, it should be you, Nathaniel. Dereliction of duty in an active war zone, abuse of subordinates and refusing to follow orders, those are much more severe charges."
Bligh spluttered, his voice rising. "I would never, never seek to do any of those! I swear it, my life is the Navy's and I would never to anything like what you have described! I have followed my orders to the upmost and treat my men with respect!"
"And in that you deliberately failed." Bryant held up paper, reading. "Or do you not remember the orders you were given when Commander Murdoch joined your ship? I shall read them to you, in case you have. 'Captain Bligh, I am sending Commander Murdoch to you. He is a fine man, and should be ready for his own command soon. Familiarize him with how the navy does things and he should make a fine addition to our fleet. With satisfactory progress he should assume a command within several months.' Do you deny those were the orders you receive?"
"No." Bligh's voice was a whisper, and Will couldn't help but smile at watching the man be humbled. "I found Mr. Murdoch's skill lacking when he arrived."
"How so?"
"Navigation, to start with."
"Commander Murdoch has shown no issues with navigation on your ship, if anything he excels at it." Bryant raised a brow. "I have even had reports from the other officers that he taught them when he could, as he stated."
Will watched Bligh breath in, a sneer rising. "Then perhaps you should ask him how he managed to steer an ocean liner into an iceberg."
Will had to grab the table to stop himself from rising, or fainting, or simply shouting. It was still there, Titanic, still dogging his steps and always tearing at any bit of growth he could have in his life. Any positivity in his life and career, sunk to the bottom of the ocean with all of those souls that kept ahold of him. Although now they had company, quite a few German sailors now had their fingers hooked into his life.
Quigley looked to Will, "He's, he's lying." Will shook his head, not trusting his tongue. "Oh, Christ, Will. I had no idea."
"I did." Bryant glowered at Bligh, the paper crumpling in his hands. "As did the officer who assigned Commander Murdoch to the Peterel, and the Royal Navy does not hold Commander Murdoch responsible for that tragedy. If anything, his actions after the collision that night speaks to why he is a candidate for his own command."
"His own command?" Bligh stood, anger radiating off of him. "So he can sink that too and kill our men?"
Bryant stalked to the door, yelling. "Marines! In here, now." He stood aside as the Marines that had escorted Will and Quigley tromped in. "Remove Captain Bligh from my office and see him confined until I can decide what to do with him." Bligh was still shouting as the Marines roughly grabbed him and shoved him out of the office. In the silence, Bryant turned to Will. "You are well suited for command, Commander Murdoch. You are honest, honorable, and clearly inspire loyalty in those around you by your actions."
Will felt a rush of color to his cheeks. "Thank you, sir."
"Now, I want to see how you handle a situation like this. If you were to sit in judgement of Captain Bligh for his actions, how would you punish him and prevent a reoccurrence of what has happened?" Bryant smiled, "You may have a moment."
Will nodded, trying to settle his mind. Every thought was a blur, moving so quickly that he struggled to stick with one. He wasn't going to be imprisoned or shot, if anything he was going to get his own command. Bligh was ruined, and he could put forward an even harsher punishment that would see him humiliated. Ana would be thrilled, and the only thing that would make it better would be to have her by his side.
He let out a breath, he needed to focus. Bligh, how to prevent Bligh from growing so arrogant again? He spoke slowly, allowing himself to turn over every word. "Captain Bligh should be demoted to a lesser command, and perhaps by a rank. The senior officers should be broken up and spread around the fleet, in order to prevent them from acting superior again. They should be sent to ships that have captains that keep a close eye on their staff. The junior officers should go to ships where they can have their skills improved, many of them have talent but simply need to have an environment where they can grow."
Bryant nodded, "And the Peterel?"
"She should be repaired and returned to service under a commander that will not let a similar situation arise again."
"I agree," Bryant turned. "Can I trust you with this, Lieutenant Quigley?"
Quigley scrambled to his feet, his hand snapping up into a salute. "Yes, sir. I promise, I shall do my utmost!"
"I'll have your promotion to Lieutenant Commander pushed through today." Bryant nodded to the door, "Please allow me a moment with Commander Murdoch."
Quigley gave him a beaming smile as he left, and Will felt his heart hammer as he was left with the Admiral. "Sir, I should not want you to go out of your way for me."
"I'm not, Commander." Bryant rubbed a hand across his nose. "I am need of good men, and when I find them, I put them to the best use." He sighed, "It will rankle some, but I have a posting that is in need of a man like you. In Portsmouth, there's a battlecruiser, the Unicorn. She's been laid up for a few months, and in need of someone in command. Beatty's told me to find someone for her, she needs to shape up before joining us up here."
Will's mouth went dry. "A battlecruiser?" The most he had been thinking of was a destroyer, something small that wouldn't put him in the spotlight too much and have people remember Titanic when they saw his name.
"She's not the newest, not the best armored, and she doesn't have the biggest guns, but we need every ship that we can." Bryant pulled a sheaf of papers from a drawer. "Here, her plans. Her captain should be familiar with the ship before he even sees her."
Will felt his fingers tremble as he took the papers, "Why me, sir?"
"You're a good man, with a good head on your shoulders. You've handled large, fast ships before and kept a clear head during your first action. Many commanders can't claim that, even those that have served for years." Bryant brought a hand up, clapping him on his shoulder. "You deserve this posting, Captain."
"Captain?"
"Yes, we can't exactly hand a battlecruiser to a commander, now can we? I'll have it dated to today."
"Could you make it tomorrow, sir?" Will glanced away, "Today, today is not a good day for me."
"Ah, well, that can be done." Bryant nodded, "Do you have any other requests? You certainly deserve a bit more than just changing the date of your promotion after serving under Bligh."
Will thought for a moment. "I have two requests, sir." At Bryant's nod, he continued. "I should like to send a wire to my wife, to tell her."
"I was already going to send one, you can include a personal wire with it. I'll send them through the Consulate so they arrive quickly. And your other request?"
"Might I request someone for my staff?"
"I don't see why not, so long as it doesn't tie anything in knots. I take it you have someone in mind?"
"Lieutenant Phillip Nettles, he's on a minelayer the last I heard. He's in the Reserves, like myself. He's worked on ocean liners and his skill there has never been in question." Will thought briefly of Lights, but Lights was never one to take rank seriously, and things would need to be serious on a battlecruiser.
Bryant nodded, "I'll have him found and sent. And promoted, I assume you'd like him as your second in command?" At Will's nod, he grinned. "Well, if you trust him than he must be good. Now, go, celebrate your promotion and get your things packed for the train."
Will emerged from the office to a flood of sound, all of the junior officers crowding him to offer their congratulations for not being demoted and pestering him about exactly what had happened. One of them shoved his way through though, holding out a packet, Ana's handwriting on it. "I found your man in the pub, sir! He said to give this to you."
Will glanced down, shifting his sword so he could carry both of them together. "Thank you, that was very kind of you."
"And now we're off to the pub again!" Quigley laughed, earning a cheer from the others. Will found that his things had been moved to a nicer room, and Admiral Bryant's aide came by to say that he would take Will's uniforms to have the rank markings corrected.
The aide sniffed at the repaired jacket when he pulled it out of his trunk. "I'll burn that, or have them cut it up for something."
So it was in his civvies that Captain William Murdoch was dragged to the pub by his previous shipmates, all of them wanting to know what had happened, where he was going and if he would take any of them with him. Will laughed them off on the last, although as the talk moved on from his promotion to other things, he found himself growing a bit quiet, his mind back with the cold water from three years ago.
One of the juniors noticed, "Sir, is everything alright? You should be happy, what with a command of your own."
He summoned up a smile, but it didn't last. "I am happy."
"You don't look it."
"A few years ago, something very bad happened today." Will swirled the dregs of his beer. "I suppose I'm just remembering."
Quigley pursed his lips, looking over. "Well, there's an easy cure for that, Captain. I'll have a few bottles of whiskey brought." That drew a laugh from the others, and Quigley lowered his voice. "I won't tell, you know. If that's what you're worried about."
Will took a sip of the whiskey that had been brought. "I wasn't worried about it, but thank you."
"Well, just keep me in mind when you need an escort. I'll follow you to hell and back, sir."