Sharpe’s Trafalgar. Bernard Cornwell

glances, then turned back to look at the horizon. ‘Tell me, sir,’ Sharpe said to the major, ‘would you trust an East India captain?’

      ‘If you can’t trust such a man, Sharpe, then the world is coming to an end.’

      ‘We wouldn’t want that, sir, would we?’

      Sharpe gazed at Lady Grace. She stood beside her husband, lightly touching his arm to keep her balance on the swaying deck. Dog and cat, he thought.

      And he felt like being scratched.