'GANS ON ICE

by Lucille D'ecoupage

It was an unusually warm day in the gardens of Farthing Hall. Lady Claire and the Vice Admiral strolled through the grounds, trying to admire the late fall colours.

"Thank you for coming Admiral. I am sorry to have drawn you to the country." She paused. "I trust your journey was a safe one?"

"Yes m'Lady. It was particularly uneventful."

"Splendid. Do sit down." They sat at a small bench, overlooking an herbacious border, low hedgerow and further still, a golden valley rolling gently in the breeze. "Shall I send for a cup of tea?"

"No thank you please."

That sat that way for a while. Claire spotted a troublsome Hare that poked his ears up and stayed stock still on the lawn. He had been raiding the vegetables of late and the staff had made him quite wary.

"Rather a fine day isn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it is." The Admiral grasped one of her hands. "I suspect you are anxious to know why I have called."

"A communication I hope."

"Yes madam." The Vice Admiral withdrew from his coat a tattered envelope and handed it to her carefully. "Not from your husband's ship I'm afraid, but it's sister. The Sceptre."

Lady Farthing took the letter from him. There was a single page inside. She could smell the oakum and sea in it's folds - immediately recognizing the handwriting as her husband's... She held it as though it were a sacred text.

The Vice Admiral continued, "It seems as though their rendezvous with supplies did not proceed as planned. The Sceptre has wintered in Pace Bay... Ready to set out once the ice breaks."

"When did this arrive?"

"I received it only yesterday. It was given to me by the skipper of a trading vessel who had been entrusted with it. He insisted that it be hand delivered, as was your husband's wish..."

She looked deep into the Admiral's eyes. He nodded for her to read. With trembling hands, she began ~

My Dearest Claire,
I must send this with haste as our mission has taken a change for the worse. I beg not to worry ~ all is well. We are to spende the winter as far North as we can make. The Sceptre will return in the spring... We have only to wait out the cold. I have entrusted this note with the Captain and upon his word says he shall not fail. I can only pray that at some time you have the opportunity to read these humble words and to know that I love you.
You are in my thoughts always.

Love Richard.