Prue Phillipson - Hordens of Horden Hall by Hearts Restored

like that I am not interested in her daughters but I would still like to visit Cousin William before we go.”
    “Of course. You want to see Eunice again, don’t you? You know you can tell me all, Dan?” She got up and fastened his buttons and peered into his face.
    He shrugged his shoulders. Joining the navy was suddenly more appealing than ever. “Nothing to tell,” he said.
    The ball did not break up till two in the morning by which time Daniel was already nodding on a velvet couch in the corner of the ballroom. Madeline and Diana had not required more than one dance each from him but were never without other partners. When his mother joined him he said, “You see, the French cousins have not pestered me for dances.”
    “I would say Diana at least is hoping to make you jealous.”
    He snorted. “She is no different from Madeline. All they both want is endless pleasure and I cannot give them that as a dancing partner.” He yawned and sat up. “How will they endure our quiet evenings at Horden Hall? I suggest we plague them with boredom till they plead to go home. Aunt will soon see that Northumberland is no place for either of them.”
    With a small pang he thought he could have had some pleasure in walking or riding about the grounds and the village with Eunice, showing her a countryside which she could hardly know existed.
    His mother’s head drooped against his shoulder. He looked down at her and grinned. “What, you are sleepy too?”
    “Thinking of the Hall makes me long for our early nights and bright mornings and I’m missing Ursula. I’ve never been away from her so long since the day she came to live with us.”
    Daniel realised he had hardly given his old Nanny a thought and yet she had been a vital figure all childhood.
    “Well, how many more days are we to stay in London? What are they planning for us tomorrow?”
    “I think Clifford is impatient to get back to business but I heard them speak of a river trip tomorrow, perhaps up to Richmond. It is pretty country they say.”
    Daniel was suddenly wide awake. “Could we not go down river? There would be more to see and I was too seasick when we came to take much notice.”
    Ships, he was thinking. The fleet may be in.
    “We can ask,” his mother said and closed her eyes.

CHAPTER 6
    Clifford was very ready to go downstream and his word prevailed. The wherry on which they took seats left from Milford Steps and on an ebb tide with a west wind made good speed under London Bridge.
    With mounting excitement Daniel could see ahead of them a good part of the fleet at anchor in the Pool. Most were awaiting repairs, the waterman told them, but two he pointed out had their great guns run out and the sailors exercising.
    “Can you read the name on her?” he said to Daniel sensing his interest.
    It was a massive three-decker they were approaching. They would pass close under the bows.
    “The Royal Charles ,” he breathed and gazed up in wonder as they scuttled by. He was especially struck by the sight of a few officers, handsomely dressed, watching the scurrying activity of dozens of men.
    He didn’t want to share his delight with anyone, certainly not Madeline or Diana, but he told himself that is where I should be, not translating Greek texts or discoursing on the nicer points of theology. I am a man of action. Oh to serve my King in a great fleet battle!
    He thought back to his boyhood when he had read in the newspapers – which eventually found their way to Horden Hall – vivid accounts of the sea-battles between the Dutch and the English in the days of Cromwell. It hadn’t bothered him then that it was not the King’s navy, as long as the English were winning.
    “She was called Naseby when she was launched in ’55,” the waterman said, “but all them Commonwealth names went, painted out the day they brought the King from Holland. She’s a fine vessel. Upward of a hundred guns.”
    Recalling his boyhood Daniel realised that he had been