Cockerel: The Alan Lewrie Naval Adventures, #6 /**/ C H A P T E R 4 Now, he’ll not stand on much ceremony or formality, beyond a natural courtesy, d’ye see, sir,” Sir William Hamilton tutored on the short carriage ride from Palazzo Sessa. “The King of Naples is . . . uh . . . you’ve never been presented at Court back home, sir?” “No, Sir William,” Lewrie had to admit. “He does carry himself well, though, Hamilton, does he not? And you told me not half an hour ago that his deportment toward you and Sir John lacked for nothing,” Lady Emma Hamilton teased. Informal or not, Lewrie had scrubbed himself as clean as could be expected aboard a ship, donned his best uniform, and was now perched on tenterhooks on a plush-velvet coach bench, facing rearward toward Sir William and his wife. His very much younger and hellish-fetching wife. At the moment he felt, diplomacy be-damned! “Uhm .
