The captain was ready to welcome them aboard. When greetings had been exchanged, Marlborough stood at the bulwark so that he could wave to his wife as the vessel set sail. Daniel was close enough to get a good view of him. Whatever tensions there might be between Duke and Duchess, they did not register on Marlborough's face. He looked as calm and confident as he usually did. Now in his early fifties — an age when many commanders had retired — he carried his years well and had the sprightliness of a veteran soldier eager to return to the battlefield.

To Daniel's perceptive eye, the Duchess's performance was less convincing. She stood bravely on the quay, raising a hand when the ship pulled away and waving gently to her husband.

Other wives who had come to watch their soldier-husbands leave were already dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs or blowing kisses at the departing vessel. The Duchess was apparently unmoved, fulfilling a duty rather than parting from a loved one who was off to a war that was fraught with danger. Marlborough waved with far more purpose. Significantly, it was his wife who turned away before he did.

When he finally stepped away from the bulwark, he caught sight of Daniel and beckoned him over. 'It's too breezy to stay on deck,' he said. 'I'll go below. Give me ten minutes to settle in then join me in my cabin, if you will.'

'Yes, Your Grace,' said Daniel.

'It feels so good to be back in harness again.'

'I agree.'

'We'll give King Louis a real shock this time.'

Marlborough patted him on the shoulder then went off along the deck. The crew were still unfurling the sails, each new spread of canvas catching the wind and increasing their speed. The Peregrine was a tidy vessel. Her mast was tall for a ship with a relatively shallow draught. She had a lengthy jib- boom, formed of two spars fished together and able to be hinged up when not in use. The rig was fore-and-aft with a square topsail and a topgallant fitted to the mainmast.