St. Vincent - 35. Chapter 35

March 9, 1797

Granger walked through the familiar entry way and into the foyer, with its Bridgemont blue wallpaper and beautifully carved woodwork, then headed straight to his father’s study. His head was still spinning from his time at St. James Palace. It wasn’t just the strange encounter with Cavendish and Arthur; it was his feeling of being so incredibly isolated and out of place. This used to be his world, and now he felt as if he didn’t even belong anymore. Even this house, which should be so familiar and comforting, just felt like another trap.

“Ah, George,” his father said affably. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Thank you, Father,” Granger said formally. “Is mother here?”

“Sadly, she is not. She is taking the waters at Bath.”

She would only do that if she didn’t feel good. “She is well?” Granger asked, concerned.

“She has a bit of gout, and the waters there help.” Bridgemont studied his son carefully. “Did you enjoy yourself at Court? You left sooner than I would have expected.”

“Not really,” Granger said candidly. He stared at his father, willing him to get to the point. “Where is Freddie, and where is Davina?”

The earl got up and poured them both a glass of port, a gesture not unlike that which Spencer had used. “They are in Portsmouth.”

“Portsmouth?” That was one of England’s major naval bases. What could they possibly be doing there? He must have been within yards of them when he’d gone ashore after meeting with Bridport.

“Your brother has been appointed governor of His Majesty’s colony of Bermuda. He will be going there for at least two years. His wife is accompanying him.”

Granger just stared at the earl, stunned. “He can’t be happy about that, although it is a lovely island.” Granger had been there once, but only briefly.

“He is most unhappy about it, but not as unhappy as his wife.”

“I would have thought the duke of Devonshire would have intervened on her behalf,” Granger said.

“It was his idea to send them off. I spoke with the King, making him aware of most of what had transpired, and he summoned His Grace to the palace to discuss the matter with him. I had expressed a desire to have the marriage annulled. This was the solution the duke proposed and His Majesty sanctioned. It was his thought that away from the temptations of London, they may find a way to be happily married.”

“That was most gracious of His Majesty,” Granger said. He didn’t think the King would get so directly involved in the family affairs of his subjects.

“I think he is somewhat used to dealing with errant children, so even though these aren’t his own, it was not a problem for him to intervene. You missed the parting audience he had with Freddie and Davina.”

“I’ll wager they didn’t enjoy that.”

The earl chuckled. “No, they did not. Neither I, nor the duke, seemed to have made much of an impression on either of them. I think that His Majesty did. So they are being sent to purgatory to while away the time, and learn how to be civilized people.”

“How ironic that they’re being sent off to the colonies to become civilized,” Granger observed. He was skeptical that their time there would change them. “I fear that when they return, they will be the same, only more bitter.”

“I think it is our duty to give them a chance,” the earl chided. He saw Granger’s expression and held up his hand. “I am not saying that you do not have every right to bear them ill will, and certainly Bertie has that right as well, but look at how much Bertie has changed. Can you not give Freddie the benefit of the doubt?”

Granger took a sip of the port, and sat back in his chair. “I think much of that will depend on how they conduct themselves when they are away, and when they return.”

The earl took that as an agreement to his request to at least give them a chance for redemption. “Will Caroline be as charitable as you?”

“Is she aware that they are leaving?”

“She is. I am surprised she hasn’t told you about that.”

Granger eyed his father carefully. He was a closed book, difficult to read, but Granger knew him well enough to discern that he was hiding something. “We haven’t had much time to talk, and we’ve been busy.”

“I shouldn’t wonder.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Granger demanded.

“It is not my place to interfere in your marriage.”

“I don’t think that keeping things from me is in the spirit of the promises you made to me in your letter,” Granger stated coldly, so coldly that it had a pronounced effect on the earl. Granger had always been a dutiful son, a compliant son. He was suddenly showing his backbone, and it surprised both of them.

The earl regained his composure, submerging his shocked expression in the sea of tranquility that he’d mastered. “I was referring to His Highness, Prince William of Gloucester. He has been seen in Caroline’s company quite often. It has caused tongues to wag.”

“Do people think she’s having an affair with him?” Granger asked, worried on multiple levels, but the one that was most obvious to him was the public perception.

“That is what the talk is about. She really has been indiscreet, George. It’s so unlike her. It’s made people suspect the worst.” He eyed his son carefully. “You don’t seem too surprised.”

“I’m not. She told me about it last night. That is why Freddie and Davina didn’t come up in conversation.”

“So what is their status?” he asked. “Is she having an affair, or did she? Is it over?”

“Why is that important?”

“George, the King is a family man. He finds adultery to be a terrible crime against a marriage. He will be very upset with Gloucester, and with Caroline. It is only because people fear him that he has not yet heard the rumors about them. That will change. Someone will become emboldened.”

“I am not sure what the status of their current relationship is,” Granger said. He paused before going on. Caroline had asked him not to tell his father, but she’d done that so she could talk to Gloucester first. He felt the dull rage again. Why should Gloucester have any say over what he decided to tell his father? It was time to see if the earl was still in his corner. “She is carrying his child.”

The earl’s eyes bulged at that, the shock of his expression was so extreme Granger thought he might be ill. “She is pregnant with his child? How far along?”

“She thinks it is only two months. I would expect her to be optimistic about that.” Granger would have guessed it to be longer.

“They were sighted together around Christmas. It would be hard to know for sure, but the whispers started after the new year began.” He looked at his son sympathetically. “I’m sorry, George.”

“It is alright, Father. I am away at sea for long periods of time, and it is undoubtedly lonely for her. She is human, and she makes mistakes, but she has been a good wife, a fantastic wife. We will move beyond this.” He didn’t tell his father that he had no grounds to complain about her morals when his own weren’t exactly above reproach.

“What will you do?”

“I will raise the child as my own.”

He nodded and smiled, proud, yet again, of his youngest son. “You are an honorable man. That is the right thing to do.”

Those were strong words of praise from his father, words that briefly choked him up. He merely nodded, collecting his thoughts and emotions. “I have told her that His Majesty and the Prince of Wales must know. I am also going to inform the Duke of Clarence.” He hadn’t told Caroline about that yet, but he was becoming less concerned about her wishes in the matter. The knowledge that this affair was talked about, that she’d been indiscrete, infuriated him, and worse, it made him question her judgment.

“I don’t suppose she took that very well.”

“She wants to talk to Gloucester about it first, to give him a chance to talk to the King.”

“That is a miscalculation,” the earl said. “And possibly a dangerous one.”

“I don’t understand. She was concerned about telling him before the baby was born, since it is possible it won’t even live through to birth.”

“That doesn’t matter.” The earl sighed and pondered things, saying nothing for quite some time. “You are no longer in command of Belvidera?”

“Technically I am, but not for long. I suspect I’ll have the orders to pay her off shortly. Then I’m going to Portsmouth to see that it’s handled correctly.” Maybe he’d have a chance to see Freddie before he went off to Bermuda.

“I will give you my prediction. I am willing to wager that when you return to London from paying off your ship, Spencer will summon you to the Admiralty. He will offer you a different command, a plum command, but it will be like last time, and you will be sent to the ends of the earth.”

“To the East Indies?” Granger asked. “I would have thought my standing with Sir John would have kept me with the Mediterranean Fleet.”

“Jervis will be apoplectic, but he will be unable to stop it. Spencer will be grouchy and cantankerous when he offers you the command, because his hand is being forced. And in the end, you will be sent off where you can make no trouble about this matter. If you live, you will return in one or two years’ time and things will be much different. You will not have much to say about the addition to your family. If you die, you will have even less to say.”

“If I am needed in the Indies, or anywhere, I will go. I will do my duty,” Granger asserted.

“That is not what this is about, George. This is about getting rid of you.”

“I cannot believe that Caroline would wish me gone,” Granger said honestly.

“I don’t think that she would, either. But she will not be making the decision here, Gloucester will be influencing her. He will tell her that the king will be furious with her, and with you. He will present this as a way for the two of them to save their skins.”

“And she will believe him,” Granger said sadly.

“I think that in the end, she will see through his little scheme, but it will not matter. By then, it will be too late.”

“What must I do?” Granger asked his father, explicitly putting his trust in the earl’s hands.

“You trust me to handle this?”

“I do. I told Caroline last night that you were the only person who could intercede on our behalf.” Caroline’s father was a possibility, but he wasn’t as friendly with the King as was the Earl of Bridgemont.

“I will talk to His Majesty about the matter. After I have done that, you can speak to the Prince of Wales. It will be better if he hears it from you. If you want to inform the Duke of Clarence, you can do so after you have talked to the Prince of Wales. We will tell no one, and especially not Caroline, about this.”

“His Majesty asked me to attend him at Windsor.”

The earl raised an eyebrow at that. “He has grown to like you. That is a marked sign of honor. You must do so when you return from Portsmouth.”

“What if I am posted to a ship before then?”

“I suspect that if that happens, you will become ill, and need to recover before you can assume command. Whatever you do, you must not read yourself in until this matter is resolved.”

“I understand.”

“When I have spoken with His Majesty, I will send you a note. It will simply say that your grandfather sends his regards. You must come see me as soon as you can after that.”

“Thank you Father. I will.” Granger stood up to leave. “I think that I will pay my respects to His Royal Highness this evening, and then go to Brentwood for a few days.”

“Some time to rest will be good for you.” The earl had noted that his youngest son had looked tired, not in his outward appearance, but in his eyes. There was a dull fatigue there, the kind of fatigue that came from a lack of sleep, and a lack of happiness.

Granger embraced his father, then left. He felt better on one hand, in that he at least had a plan, but he was dismayed that the plan involved him keeping secrets from Caroline.

As his carriage turned into Portland Place, he noticed another, more ornate vehicle leaving. Granger noted the arms on the side, and looked up to find himself staring at Gloucester. Granger raised his hat politely, as was expected, and Gloucester acknowledged his gesture but gave him that smug look, as if grinding his nose in the fact that he’d been sleeping with Granger’s wife. So he had been visiting Caroline. Did she sleep with him again? The carriage pulled up in front of the house and he paused to get his anger under control. He strode confidently up the steps and through the doors, and then went straight up to their sitting rooms.

“Hello George,” Caroline said nervously. She looked a little disheveled, as if she’d been involved in physical activity, as if she’d just had sex with Gloucester. She gave him a kiss, which he returned with a minimum of enthusiasm. “How was court?”

“You had a visitor,” he observed.

She swallowed hard. “I did. I told you that I wanted to talk to him about the baby, and about telling the King.”

“And how did that conversation go?” Granger wanted to ask her if it involved her having an orgasm, but he restrained himself.

“He thinks it is a bad idea. He thinks it would be wrong to create an issue before the baby is even born. He says that the King loves children, so when the baby is born, and is there, in person, it will be better for all of us.”

“Do you think he’s right?” Granger asked.

“I’m not sure. It makes sense to me.”

“It does sound logical,” Granger stated. “I am going to enjoy another bath, then after supper I am going to Carlton House.”

“Do you want me to accompany you?”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said to her. He could see her recoil, almost as if he had hit her, but he had no desire to appear with her in public as the cuckolded husband. “I am going to Brentwood tomorrow. I’ll take the children with me.”

“I see.”

“You are welcome to join us, if you have no other plans,” he said, trying not to sound as enraged as he was.

“What about our party on Friday?” she asked.

He felt himself losing control of the emotions that he’d tried so hard to restrain. “You didn’t intend for me to host that with you anyway. I’m sure that Gloucester will be more than happy to fill in for me. In more ways than one.”

She said nothing but just stared at him, her mouth agape, while he turned on his heel and stalked from the room. Let Caroline have her fling. Let her do whatever she wanted to do. He would act accordingly.

Simply soaking in the baths had been restorative. Granger had not expected Cavendish to show up, not after the argument he’d witnessed at the palace, but he was still disappointed that he had not. It seemed as if all of the people, all of the lovers he’d relied on for support, were now slicing him out of their lives. Evidently they’d all found someone better to love. That was a tough ego blow for a young man to grapple with, even a young man as confident and secure as George Granger.

He dressed formally to attend the Prince, and then went down to the dining room for supper. He had intended to dine alone, so he was somewhat surprised to find Caroline there as well. He really didn’t want to fight with her. If Gloucester had been even slightly decent about this, he wouldn’t be this enraged. Granger didn’t understand why the man seemed bound and determined to taunt him.

“You look very handsome,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you,” he replied, trying not to be too stiff. “If Brummell is there, I’ll need to look my best.”

“You will. He is quite the dandy.” She paused for a second. “I assume you saw your father at court?” Granger nodded. “Did he tell you about Freddie and Davina?”

“Off to Bermuda,” Granger said with a smile. Talking about their problems with others was a safe dynamic, and reinforced the fact that despite their other romantic entanglements, they were a team. Granger began to warm up to his wife again. “I suspect they will leave us alone after that experience.”

“Or they’ll be so mad they’ll be ready for a fight,” she cautioned.

“That option had crossed my mind,” Granger joked. “I think that it will not take much to call in the cavalry if they try any nasty maneuvers.”

“One can only hope.”

“What is going on with Arthur?” Granger asked. “He was positively rude to me at court.”

“He has become moody and difficult lately. I don’t see him all that often, and when I do, it is usually with Cavendish. Arthur has taken him under his wing, and now that Cavendish is in Parliament, that’s probably not a bad thing.”

“I didn’t know that he got elected to Parliament.”

“It’s not all that difficult,” Caroline said, rolling her eyes. “All you need is enough money to buy the votes. He picked up one of the pocket boroughs.”

“Why would he need to have Arthur’s help? His father is quite powerful, isn’t he?”

“His father isn’t in the Commons. And besides, I think it gives him a chance to strike out on his own a bit.” Clearly Arthur and Cavendish were a couple, but they were obviously more discreet than some if Caroline hadn’t even picked up on it. Granger felt his anger toward his wife returning, thinking about how cavalierly she was tossing away her reputation.

“I feel as if I’ve come back to a foreign land. Nothing feels normal. Nothing feels the same,” Granger groused.

“I really am sorry, George.” She paused, as if fortifying herself. “I told William that I would not see him anymore, not while you were home.”

By trying to be nice, she had just set the wheels in motion, the plan to have him sent back to sea. And he knew that she would not be able to keep that pledge anyway. Gloucester had trooped over here as soon as he’d seen Granger leave court, and she hadn’t refused him. She wouldn’t refuse him again. She would claim that to do so would be an insult to a royal prince. He was about to let himself get angry with all of this once again, but he decided that it would serve no purpose. Gloucester would scheme to get rid of him anyway. Besides, the thought of being at sea, away from these intrigues, was quite appealing. Maybe he should let them send him off to India, or wherever. “Thank you, dear,” he said. “That should stop the tongues from wagging for a bit.” She stared at him, horrified at his comment, that he’d heard about her affair, or knew that other people were aware of it.

He ignored her discomfort and kissed her on the cheek in a fond gesture, not a loving one, and strode rapidly down the stairs and out of his house, the house that seemed almost to be a jail. The carriage took him the brief distance to Carlton House, which at least externally seemed to be the same. It sparkled and glittered from all the candlelight emanating from it.

The chamberlain announced him and this time, no one seemed to notice. Granger got the feeling that he’d returned and no one really cared. He made his way over toward the Prince of Wales, and got the first pleasant surprise since his return. “Granger! Gads it’s good to see you back!”

“Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” Granger said, positively beaming at the greeting. He felt himself feeding on that, and felt his normal charm breaking through. “I came to visit even though my epaulette will not bear close inspection. I hope you will bear me no ill will.”

The Prince laughed, his uproarious laugh, the one he emitted when he was well on his way to being drunk. A woman moved up next to him and slipped her arm through his. She had a cool, smooth way about her. “It is good to see your ladyship again,” Granger said to Lady Jersey, this woman that his mother was perpetually feuding with.

“I think George is just as charming as his father used to be,” she said to the Prince in what was probably supposed to be a backhanded slam at Granger’s mother.

“I owe your ladyship my gratitude for allowing your son to serve on my ship,” Granger said, picking just the right tack to take with her. “He is an exceptional young man.” Villiers was anything but exceptional, but lies were allowed when flattering royalty or their favorites, Granger decided.

“That is so good to hear. I am saddened that he did not return with you.”

“I fear they had need of his services on board the Southampton, your ladyship. Duty called. We have missed him.”

She excused herself to go off and join the ladies, while Granger gambled with the Prince and his usual cohorts. They plied him for details about the battle of Cape St. Vincent. Granger looked around for Fox or Sheridan, the Whig rabble-rousers, but they hadn’t made an appearance yet.

“You’re losing tonight, Sir George,” the duke of Portland observed. “How unusual.”

“I must beg Your Grace’s pardon,” Granger teased. “Let us see if I do better with this next roll.” Granger took the dice and rolled out, losing even more money.

“He can afford it,” Portland said. “Rumor has it that prize you took will approach the record value.” That drew out the story of his bombardment at Cherbourg, and his capture of the Honfleur.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so lucky with prize money as you, Sir George,” Lord Fitzwilliam said.

“But alas, my lord, not so lucky at hazard,” Granger said, throwing out again.

“I heard you had returned, Sir George,” Charles Fox said in his cattiest of tones.

“Mr. Fox. I did not see you earlier,” Granger said pleasantly.

“I have just arrived. It seems that you would have been home sooner had you not been lurking in the Channel, looking to fatten your purse.”

Granger felt anger pulsing through his body, but he controlled it manfully. “Fighting one of the strongest gales of the season in the Channel was not my idea of lurking about, Mr. Fox. It was probably as tedious and stressful as listening to one of your sermons in the House.” The others laughed riotously at Granger’s joke.

“Yet you managed to seriously damage one of His Majesty’s ships, costing the country a sizeable amount to repair her, while, quite coincidentally, substantially enriching yourself.”

“I suppose you would have had me let the Honfleur simply sail into Cherbourg unmolested? Your idea of naval strategy is most unique, Mr. Fox,” Granger said sarcastically. “One might almost think you were in the employ of France.” That got more laughs from the others, but not from Fox, who stalked off in a huff.

“Granger, I don’t think I’ve met someone who is so effective at driving Fox off,” the Prince said jovially. “We should keep you around just for that.”

When he was down 2000 pounds, Granger made his excuses and left the table, wandering through the crowds to mingle with people he’d known his entire life. He was thoroughly enjoying himself until a voice hissed in his ear.

“You stay away from him.”

Granger turned to Arthur Teasdale, and gave him a fierce, piercing look. “Arthur, what is wrong with you? I have not seen you in months, and you have yet to utter a civil word to me.”

“You heard me,” Arthur said. He seemed to be a bit unhinged.

“You appear to have forgotten how to conduct yourself in polite society,” Granger continued evenly. The unspoken context was that Granger belonged here at Carlton House, with those who were born with the bluest of blood in their veins, while Arthur did not. Arthur was a parvenu, one whose true boorish manners were showing through. Granger watched that register, and found it frustrating that he had to insult Arthur to get his attention. “I finally get back, hoping to spend some time with both you and Freddy, and I find I am unwelcome. I find that almost unbearable, since we have been friends for so long.”

“He loves you more than me,” Arthur said sadly.

“And you think your acting like this will make him love me less, or make me love him less?” Arthur stared at Granger. “Arthur, the only thing this type of behavior will accomplish is to make people love you less. It is truly self-defeating.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” he demanded, being petulant again.

“Actually, what I’d really like is to sneak off with the two of you for a fantastic threesome,” Granger whispered into his ear. “Think about what your bitchy attitude ruined.” Granger turned and walked away from him, determined to avoid him until reality somehow worked through to his addled brain.

He was walking past an alcove when a hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him in. Granger thought it was funny that he’d gone from arguing with Arthur about staying away from Cavendish, yet here he was in an alcove, pressed up against him. “We need to talk,” Cavendish said.

“You seem to be captivated, or perhaps it is captive, and unable to see me,” Granger replied, letting Cavendish see how irritated this whole thing had made him.

“I’m sorry, George. Please, give me a chance to explain.”

“Freddy, I long to spend time with you. I truly do,” Granger said honestly. “But this is a bit too strange for me. Let me know when you can break away for an afternoon, a day, or even a few days,” Granger said. He pressed up against Cavendish to emphasize his point, getting a grin and a blush from the young man in return.

“I’ll let you know,” he said.

Granger left the alcove, and got mad at himself for looking around to see if Arthur were there first. He didn’t know what was wrong with these two, but whatever it was, they were best left alone. Granger slipped into another alcove, alone this time, and pondered his situation. He had actually enjoyed himself this evening, but he was still desperately lonely. He needed sex, the physical release, but more than that, he needed love. He needed someone to be there for him, to support him, to reassure him, to remind him that he wasn’t alone in the world, and that all of these problems and issues would work out alright. He needed a partner. Caroline, despite her protestations to the contrary, was too wrapped up in Prince William to be that person for him. Worse, the more he learned of her affair, and the more he was around her, the less he felt he could trust her. He felt the sadness overwhelm him over that, felt a very real pain assault him. Cavendish and Kerry were both involved in their own love affairs, and Granger was cognizant that they had every right to do so. He really had no say over whom they were with. But both of them had professed their love for him, and neither one of them had honored that promise. Cavendish was unwilling to even have a simple conversation with him, while Kerry had completely neglected him. Even now, Kerry was standoffish, as if afraid to even approach Granger. Granger sighed out loud in the privacy of his little corner, angered beyond belief that he’d let himself drag down his mood. He’d had such a fun time tonight, and had been his normal, charming self. Now that mood was dashed away by all of these people who supposedly loved him, but didn’t act as if they did. Only that really wasn’t it. His good mood was dashed away by his own inconstancy. That just made things even worse.

He focused all of his energy on repairing his visage; on painting that happy face back on so he could get the hell out of Carlton House. He actually thought he might make it out of the place unmolested when he almost literally ran into Lord Chartley. There was an attractive woman on his arm, forcing Granger to once again bite back negative emotions: in this case, it was jealousy.

“It is good to see you, my lord,” Granger said formally.

“How fabulous that you are back in town!” Chartley said enthusiastically. He embraced Granger warmly. “My dear, this is Sir George Granger. Sir George, this is Miss Arabella Pomfret.”

“My pleasure, ma’am,” Granger said courteously, bowing to this pretty young woman while kissing her hand.

“The pleasure is surely mine, Sir George,” she said coquettishly.

“My dear, perhaps you would excuse me for a moment and allow me to walk Sir George out?” Chartley asked gallantly.

“Of course,” she said, dropping a curtsy to both men, who bowed obligingly.

“And did you not promise to call on me?” Lord Chartley asked with a leer as soon as she was out of earshot. Chartley stood in front of him, with his masculine strength, his handsome face, his light brown hair with its perpetual blond streaks, and his green eyes. By just being in his presence, Granger remembered why this man had won a not-inconsiderable piece of his heart.

“You are a most demanding man, my lord,” Granger observed coyly, even as he smiled. “I have only just arrived back home.”

“By my calculations, you have been home twenty four hours or so. As you said, I’m a demanding man,” he said, smiling back at Granger.

“I am of a mind to go to Brentwood tomorrow,” Granger told him. “Perhaps you would like to accompany me?”

“Now that sounds spectacular,” Chartley said. “I will call on you at 8 in the morning, then?”

“Superb,” Granger said, grinning broadly. His carriage pulled up and he hopped in, still smiling.