Percival trudged toward his boat, which flew a purple flag just now snapping in the wind. Other of the gentlemen raced ahead, but he did not see the point of it. Everyone would need to be sailing behind the start line before the duke would ring a cowbell as the start. He need not be sailing back and forth and dodging other boats for longer than was necessary.
After all, there might be whales out there. Lord Popinjay had already explained the danger they could incur.
As men struggled to get the sails raised and centerboards pinned at the half up, Percival went through the task methodically. It really had helped to have Hamill as a guide.
Hamill himself was first out into the lake and speeding along at a terrific pace. Others were not so fortunate.
Lord Bertram had managed to fall over the side of his boat and into the water already, but it was only a foot deep so he did not require rescue this time.
Popinjay had pushed off and shouted victoriously, until he suddenly came about and ended up beached again.
Lord Wosley could not work out why his centerboard would not go down the slot, somehow failing to realize that he was attempting to push it into earth.
Percival did his best to ignore the chaos and just do what Hamill had showed him to. His sail was up, he pushed off, and found the wind. The moment he hit the deeper water, he released the centerboard from its peg.
God help him, he was sailing.
Worse, he was sailing far too fast for comfort.
He let his sail out and luffed into the wind to slow himself down and was rather proud of himself that it actually worked.
Percival steered the tiller to keep himself out of the way of the other boats who were heading toward the starting line.
Boats were going this way and that, coming about at inopportune times or suddenly turning and luffing in the wind.
It was absolute chaos and Percival dearly wished the duke would ring that cowbell already.
The duke shouted, “Come on, Bertram, get out there!”
Percival looked to see what Lord Bertram was doing. He was rolling himself back into his boat, so presumably he’d fallen in again.
Bertram gamely got behind his tiller and pushed off, heading for the start.
The duke clanged on the cowbell, which only seemed to increase the confusion. It was as if everybody had forgot where the start actually was.
Everyone except Hamill, who had shot off toward the first buoy.
Boats were going round in circles and tipping this way and that as men dove under their swinging booms and came up the other side.
Percival attempted to sail away from the confusion, gradually angling toward the start. The sun, whose glare was not helping the situation, was dimmed by a grouping of clouds moving overhead.
Percival stood up and shaded his eyes, seeking out Lady Cordelia’s window.
There she was! She was waving!
He waved back.
Behind him, Popinjay shouted, “Out of the way!”
His stern was struck, heaving his boat to the left. The boom swung, he felt a sharp crack on the back of his head, and he saw no more.
*
Cordelia had hoppedto the window with the assistance of Lynette and Miss Mayton and settled there, eager to view the regatta.
Or eager to view Lord Harveston, as the case actually was.
“Ah look, they are going to their boats,” Miss Mayton said.
