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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Odyssey - 22. Chapter 22

September, 1797

             

It had been two hours since Granger dispatched the Major back to Rio before they sighted the pinnace returning from the port. The seas had gotten a little rougher, so the ride out this time would be a bit wetter. Granger studied the pinnace surreptitiously through his glass, and tried not to grin at the two figures who sat in the sternsheets, braving the wind and waves. A young, spruce-looking colonel sat next to a frowning older man in civilian dress. The colonel wore the uniform of the Portuguese Household Guard, while the civilian man had clothes that appeared to be of English origin.

“It would seem that the Portuguese authorities responded to your request for a better delegation, my lord,” Calvert joked.

“They do not appear to be happy to be out here, nonetheless,” Granger joked.

“The ride out here appears to be a wet one, my lord,” Somers chimed in.

“If they had been courteous in the first place, they would not have had to make the trip in these higher seas,” Granger said logically.

“They appear to have brought the pilot back with them,” Calvert observed.

“Once they are aboard, we will square away and enter harbor. I will leave it to you to handle that, in concert with our pilot.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Calvert said.

“Captain Somers, you may help me greet our visitors. That may ultimately involve a trip ashore.”

“I am at your service, my lord,” Somers said in his cheerfully flirtatious way. Granger noticed that his attitude irritated Calvert slightly, but only slightly.

“Mr. Calvert, see if you can ascertain whether there are any British ships in port, bound for England,” Granger said.

“Any particular kind of ship, my lord?” Calvert asked.

“British,” Granger said with a smile, getting a chuckle from Somers and Calvert. They were distracted by the arrival of their guests.

First through the entry port was the Portuguese colonel, which was surprising, since one would think the British Consul would outrank him. He saluted the quarterdeck crisply, and then strode toward Granger purposefully. He was short, with skin that looked like it was tanned even though it wasn’t. He had hair that was a medium shade of brown, and eyes that were a rich brown color, placed squarely on a handsome face with sharp, well-defined features. The effect was an interesting contrast, with an almost feminine face on a masculine body. “I am Colonel Federico da Colma, Conde de Villa Verde, of Her Most Faithful Majesty’s Household Guards, serving as adjutant to His Excellency the Viceroy. I have come to welcome you to Rio de Janeiro, my lord.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Colonel. I am George Viscount Granger, commanding His Britannic Majesty’s ship Bacchante. Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you, my lord,” he said in a friendly way. “I have brought a pilot with me, to guide you to your anchorage.”

“I am most appreciative of that, Colonel. Mr. Calvert, perhaps you can get the ship underway while I entertain our guests.”

“Aye aye, my lord.”

Granger turned his attention to the civilian, who had been standing there awaiting his attention. “Sir Malcolm Pollton,” he said briskly. “His Britannic Majesty’s Consul in Rio de Janeiro.” Granger stared at him, saying nothing for the longest time, until the man finally added, “my lord”. Granger wasn’t tolerating any disrespect from the Portuguese, and he wasn’t about to tolerate any from the Consul.

“Welcome to you as well, Sir Malcolm,” Granger responded. “Perhaps you gentlemen would care to join me for some refreshments while we enter port?”

“With pleasure,” da Colma said. They followed him below, with Somers trailing them. Granger invited them to sit at his table and introduced Somers.

“I must apologize for the inappropriate greeting you received, my lord,” da Colma said. “If we had known you were aboard, I would have come in person the first time.” He cast an unpleasant look at Pollton.

“I am sorry you were so ill informed, Colonel,” Granger said smoothly, noticing how that comment infuriated Pollton. “I, in turn, must apologize for the scant fare I am able to offer you. I was unable to procure adequate stores from your compatriots in Salvador and Recife.”

“His Excellency was most unhappy to hear about that, my lord,” da Colma said. “You will not experience problems in this port.”

“That is most gratifying to hear, Colonel. I was so disturbed by my reception that I felt compelled to write to His Royal Highness Prince John, to express my fears that I had somehow offended him.” He saw da Colma swallow hard at that, at the implication that this foreigner was powerful enough to cause him problems. Still, he took it in stride. He was a member of the Household Guard, so he must be used to the palace, and must be known to the Prince. Pollton was not so calm about it.

“You wrote directly to Lisbon, without directing your communications through the Ministry of Foreign Affairs?” Pollton asked. Granger ignored him, and spoke instead to Somers.

“It appears, Captain, that in Rio, my Portuguese hosts treat me with exemplary courtesy while the British Consul presumes to treat me with disrespect.”

“Perhaps, my lord, you should write to His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales and see if you have offended him?” Somers joked, making da Colma almost snicker. Somers was so good to have around in situations like this, with his playful sense of humor that tended to defuse tense situations.

“Since I had a private meeting with His Royal Highness right before I left, I am fairly sure I did not vex him in the mean time,” Granger joked back, letting Pollton know that he was well-connected.

“I meant no disrespect, my lord,” Pollton said insincerely.

“I think you did, Sir Malcolm, but I will overlook it, providing you do not presume to tell me how to conduct my affairs, and my communications, which really are none of your business,” Granger said coldly.

“As you wish, my lord,” he said, sufficiently cowed.

“My lord, His Excellency has asked me to extend an invitation for you to attend him this evening. He is having a small party, and perhaps we can provide you with some sustenance while your ship is being reprovisioned,” da Colma said.

“That sounds delightful, Colonel,” Granger said.

“Will you be in Rio for long, my lord?” Pollton asked.

“I would expect to stay for a week, depending on the speed with which we can reprovision, Sir Malcolm. I would also like to offer my men some shore leave, if that meets with your approval, Colonel.”

“We are used to dealing with rowdy sailors, my lord. I think that as long as they have money, they will enjoy Rio.” They all laughed at that.

“I have been fortunate with prize money, and most of these men have been with me for some time, so I suspect they can pay for their amusements,” Granger joked.

“And where are you bound, my lord?” Pollton asked.

“I am going to His Britannic Majesty’s colony of Amboyna,” Granger noted.

“I am pleased to hear that you have wrested that place from the Dutch, my lord,” da Colma said, his eyes flashing with anger. “They have feasted on the Portuguese empire.”

“I am most fortunate in that they did not succeed here, Colonel, otherwise I would be deprived of your charming company,” Granger said, casting out his full charm. He was pleased to see it have a positive impact.

“Your brother was the governor there, was he not, my lord?” Pollton asked, before Granger could further enthrall his handsome Portuguese guest.

“He is to be replaced by Sir Tobias Maidstone,” Granger said. “Do you know him, Sir Malcolm?”

“We had business dealings in London, but I do not know him beyond that, my lord. I have not had the pleasure of meeting your brother.” Granger already knew of Pollton’s connection with Maidstone. It was a mark in his favor that he admitted to it, but it was suspicious that he downplayed it. He was, in fact, one of Maidstone’s relatives, a distant cousin, but a cousin nonetheless.

“That is unfortunate, as you would enjoy my brother, Sir Malcolm. I fear that of the three brothers, he is the most charming of all of us, and is quite a delightful conversationalist.” That Bertie was the most charming was true, but that a boor like Sir Malcolm would appreciate him was not.

“I find that impossible to believe, my lord,” da Colma said.

“Will you be going directly to Amboyna, my lord,” Pollton asked, frustrating Granger. Every time da Colma started flirting with him, Pollton changed the subject.

“I must brave Cape Horn and the evil Spaniards first, Sir Malcolm,” Granger said, joking while being circumspect.

“Cape Horn will be a challenge, but you have picked a good time of year to weather it. As for the Spaniards, they should pose little threat to you. They largely stick to themselves, my lord,” da Colma said.

“So there is no real fighting between your forces and the Spaniards in Montevideo and Buenos Aires, Colonel?” Granger asked.

Da Colma shrugged, a quintessentially continental gesture. “We have divided up the lands here, and are both so well entrenched it would be difficult to make inroads in either direction, my lord. The status quo seems to please everyone, so there is no need to waste resources to upset it.” In other words, the Portuguese here in Brazil viewed this war as a European affair, and chose not to get involved. “There is no formal truce, but there is an implied one.”

“I understand your point of view, Colonel, but may I ask, if you did attack the Spanish, is it not possible that you could compel them to send reinforcements from Spain, and thus provide some relief to your compatriots back in Lisbon?” Granger asked.

He had been worried that da Colma would take that to mean the Brazilian Portuguese were being disloyal, but he seemed to take Granger’s words as he meant them, as mere curiosity. “That is possible, my lord. It is also possible that their attacks could cause us to seek reinforcements from Lisbon. I fear that may put more of a strain on our government than theirs.”

“I see your point, Colonel, and it makes perfect sense. Thank you for explaining it to me.”

“My lord, would you care to stay at the Consulate this evening?” Pollton asked.

“That is a wonderful offer, Sir Malcolm. If you have no objection, I will wait until my ship is securely in port before making a commitment.”

“Certainly, my lord,” Sir Malcolm said.

“Captain Somers will be joining me, if you gentlemen have no objection.”

“None at all, my lord,” Pollton said.

“Perhaps you gentlemen would care to join me on deck?” Granger asked. “I am most anxious to see Rio.”

“With pleasure,” da Colma said. They went up on deck to find themselves in a very crowded port, with the pilot guiding them to an anchorage not too far from the Portuguese warships. “Is this your first visit here, my lord?”

“It is,” Granger said. “The mountains are so unique.”

Da Colma chuckled. “They are, especially to a European eye. I have only been here for two months, but I have already become used to them, and learned to appreciate their beauty.”

“I can understand why,” Granger said. The two young men walked over to the side. Pollton made to join them, but Somers intervened, keeping him tied to the other side of the deck in conversation.

“Perhaps you would like to see some of the city?”

Granger smiled at the Colonel. “That would be delightful.”

“It will also give us a chance to talk alone,” da Colma said seriously. “I think you will be busy tonight and tomorrow, but perhaps the day after that?”

“I will block out my day for you, Colonel,” Granger said.

“That will give me something to look forward to, then,” da Colma said, shooting Granger his adorable grin. His teeth were not entirely white, but against his dark skin, they seemed whiter than normal, and certainly turned up the magnitude his smile projected.

Granger turned his attention back to his ship in time to see the anchor drop and the sails vanish as if by magic as the men furled them. “You handled that perfectly, Mr. Calvert,” Granger said formally.

“Thank you, my lord,” Calvert said, just as formally.

“I am bidden to go ashore and meet the Viceroy,” Granger said, pulling Calvert away from the group. “I am taking Somers with me. You can arrange for groups of no more than fifty men at a time to have shore leave, and for no more than a day at a time, so we can give all those who deserve it the privilege.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Calvert said. “And what of him?” He gestured at O’Higgins as he spoke.

“Mr. O’Higgins!” Granger called, pulling him into his conversation with Calvert.

“My lord?” O’Higgins asked, joining them.

“We are newly arrived in Rio, as you can see,” Granger said playfully. “Per my pledge, you are free to leave when you choose.”

“Thank you, my lord. If you’ve no objection, I’d like to stay on board for a bit longer.”

“You are welcome to remain aboard and feast on His Majesty’s bounty for as long as you choose,” Granger said, smiling. “I, on the other hand, must go ashore and meet with His Excellency.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” they both said, and O’Higgins rightly took that as his cue to leave them.

“If I do not return, my orders, including the secret ones I opened recently, are in my safe. You will read them and act accordingly,” Granger said quietly to Calvert.

“Aye aye, my lord,” Calvert said, a little more formally than normal. Granger still hadn’t told him what was in the packet he’d received from the Privy Council. He’d wanted time to ruminate on it first, and to meet the key players here. There were only two people he had not yet had the pleasure of encountering, and he would meet one of them, the Viceroy, shortly. Granger followed Somers, Sir Malcolm and da Colma down into the pinnace, and it squared away smartly for the shore as soon as they were aboard. The crew was interesting, with features that looked almost like the Indians he had seen in Madras, combined with some of the natives he had encountered in the West Indies, and finally blended in with the Iberian influence of the Spanish and Portuguese. Granger studied them intently, realizing that he was seeing his first denizens of this continent. He hadn’t had enough dealings with the shore in Recife or Salvador to really study the local inhabitants. He was looking forward to doing that here in Rio.

A carriage, along with some mounted guards, was waiting to escort them to the Vice-regal palace. It was a short enough trip, but they certainly attracted attention, getting some cheers and waves from the populace, which Granger and Somers returned by tossing out copper coins. “You are ensuring your own popularity, my lord,” da Colma said.

“And setting a high standard for the rest of us to uphold,” Pollton grunted, and then seemed surprised that he’d actually said that out loud. For a diplomat, he was quite boorish.

“Charity is our Christian duty, Sir Malcolm,” Granger chided gently. He’d been tempted to tear into the man, but instead he opted to keep things pleasant. But as if to irritate Pollton further, Granger and Somers tossed even more copper coins out of the carriage.

The Palace was a large building, with architecture that reminded Granger of some of the substantial government buildings he’d seen in the Caribbean. They alit from the carriage and strolled past the guards, with Granger and Somers acknowledging their salutes politely. Da Colma led him to what appeared to be an anteroom, and then excused himself to alert the Viceroy that they were here.

“The Viceroy is the Queen’s personal representative here in Brazil, and as such merits a level of respect one may use for a Royal Prince,” Pollton said to him sotto voce, as if to coach him.

Granger actually looked at him with surprise. This man was suggesting that he treat this Viceroy with the same level of respect he would treat the Prince of Wales or the Duke of Clarence. Before Granger could really express his irritation with Pollton, da Colma returned. “My lord, gentlemen, will you please follow me?”

“With pleasure,” Granger said. Da Colma led them into a large, ornate room, so ornate that Granger fancied it could indeed be the palace of a prince. An older man was seated nonchalantly on a large chair, which was on a raised dais: a throne in all but name.

“Lord Granger, please allow me to present you to His Excellency Miguel Antonio de Saboya, Baron of Caetano, representing Her Most Faithful Majesty as Viceroy of Brazil,” da Colma said. The Viceroy eyed Granger carefully, waiting for him to bow, as Pollton would have done, but Granger wasn’t about to back down on his demands to be treated with respect. It was appropriate for the Viceroy to stand to receive him. Da Colma interrupted the pregnant pause by introducing Granger to the Viceroy. The Viceroy grudgingly rose, the gesture Granger demanded, so Granger gave the Viceroy his most courtly bow in return.

“We are happy to welcome you to Rio de Janeiro,” the Viceroy said somewhat insincerely.

“I must thank you for sending Colonel da Colma to escort me here. He has been most courteous, and most helpful.” The Viceroy gave Granger a particularly evil look, as Granger had omitted the honorific of “Your Excellency.” Granger figured that if the Viceroy was going to treat him with familiarity, he would return the favor in kind.

“I am most glad to hear that, since I have assigned him to be your liaison while you are here in port,” the Viceroy said, his tone suggesting that his mood, and his arrogance, had relented a bit.

“You honor me,” Granger said, bowing to be polite.

“I was planning to dine with you, but I fear I am feeling a bit unwell,” The Viceroy said. “Perhaps you will forgive my manners, and allow me to retire?”

“Of course,” Granger said. “I hope that your health recovers.”

“Thank you,” the Viceroy said, all but dismissing them. Granger bowed respectfully, a gesture the Viceroy grudgingly returned, and then they followed da Colma out of the room. They said nothing until they got into the carriage. Granger’s eyes met da Colma’s, whose were dancing with pleasure.

“You have offended him!” Pollton said, much too loudly, and in English.

“I will thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head, Sir Malcolm,” Granger snapped. “I merely demanded the respect due to me, a courtesy he was loathe to grant, exhibiting the coarsest of manners. That you have slavishly acquiesced to his treatment makes me question your judgment.”

“I choose not to make the Viceroy angry, my lord,” Pollton said, clearly furious.

“No, you make me angry instead,” Granger said. “We will go to the Consulate, and impose our presence upon you and your staff for dinner,” he said, reverting to French to indicate he was talking to da Colma. Da Colma leaned up and told the coachman of their destination, then turned his attention back to Granger. “I am sorry, Colonel,” Granger continued in French, “that we were speaking English, and thus excluding you from our conversation.”

“I am quite fluent in English, my lord,” da Colma said in English, allowing an impish grin to spread across his face.

“I am wondering if Portuguese is similar to Spanish?” Granger asked, in Spanish. Da Colma’s grin vanished, then returned even bigger.

“When we travel into the country, I will help you understand the differences,” he said.

“And do you speak Spanish or Portuguese, Sir Malcolm?” Granger asked in French.

“I do not,” he groused. “I was lucky enough to learn French, my lord.”

“He is as big of an idiot as our Viceroy,” da Colma said in Spanish, shocking Granger into laughing out loud. “I am just testing him, to see if he really does not speak Spanish,” da Colma added playfully.

Pollton was just staring at them dumbly. “The Colonel was merely making fun of my Spanish in a most humorous way,” Granger said to him and Somers soothingly, in French. “I must apologize for practicing my Spanish in front of you gentlemen.”

“It is not a problem at all, my lord,” Somers said. They arrived at the Consulate, a large enough building that looked a bit unkempt. That brought the frown back to Granger’s face.

“I will leave you here, then, my lord,” da Colma said. “If it meets with your approval, I will call on you tomorrow morning to arrange for the reprovisioning of your ship.”

“Excellent,” Granger said. “I must thank you again for your assistance, and your courtesy.”

“It has been my pleasure,” he said. Granger got out of the carriage and paused to stomp on a weed with his shoe.

“We will dine here, then return to the ship,” Granger decreed. He looked at the Consulate with disdain, making sure that Pollton knew he was displeased. Pollton didn’t seem to care. Granger then strode confidently up to the steps. Two guards in familiar red coats saluted him smartly, while a footman was there to open the door for them.

Standing there, waiting to greet them, was a younger man, someone who was probably Granger’s age. He had dark red hair that had a bit more brown in it than red, and was of medium height. His nose was rather large for his face, but it was thin, giving him the appearance of a hawk. His eyes were quite close together, further accenting the comparison to the predatory bird. The pieces of his face appeared to be strange, but put together, they were quite attractive. “My lord, allow me to present the Honorable Angus Cochrane,” Pollton said. “This is Lord Granger, commanding the Bacchante.”

“It is a pleasure to meet Your Lordship,” Cochrane said with a courtly bow.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Cochrane,” Granger responded. And now, now that he’d met Cochrane, he’d met all the key players in the drama the Privy Council had set upon him.

“London sent Cochrane out here to assist me,” Pollton said, in his grumbling tone. “There’s a bit of work to do here, what with the whaling fleets putting in, and the occasional convict ship stopping on its way to Botany Bay.”

“I’m sure there is,” Granger agreed, even though it certainly didn’t sound overwhelming.

“It is good to see you as well, Captain,” Cochrane said to Somers. Granger looked at Somers in time to see his eyes twinkling a bit as he uttered some courteous response. Granger raised his eyebrow at Somers suspiciously, while Somers ignored him. Granger knew Somers well enough that his reaction, or lack of one, all but confirmed that Somers had slept with Cochrane.

“My lord, if it meets with your approval, I would like to invite Mr. Cochrane to return to the ship with us tonight. I know that Mr. Eastwyck would be happy to see him again,” Somers said.

“That would be delightful,” Granger said quickly, before Pollton could come up with a reason to preclude Cochrane’s escape. They ate dinner, food that was mediocre at best, and then took the Consulate’s carriage back to the pier. Somers and Cochrane chatted away, while Granger trained his eyes on the city, its people, and the docks. He didn’t join their conversation until they got to the boat.

“So how do you know each other?” he asked Somers.

“We met in London, at a gaming house, my lord,” Somers said. “Mr. Cochrane fancies the tables. He was there with his brother, who is a midshipman in the Navy.”

“I am not sure that they fancy me, my lord,” Cochrane said with a rueful smile. “It is not a pastime I engage in often, in any event.”

“And what has brought you out here to Rio, Mr. Cochrane?”

“Sir Malcolm has been here for quite a while, but he is not overly diligent in his reports, or in matters of details, my lord,” Cochrane said. That much Granger already knew. “They thought that I would be able to help him in those areas.”

“Yet His Majesty’s Consulate is woefully decrepit, Mr. Cochrane,” Granger said severely. “Would that not be an important detail?”

Cochrane swallowed hard. “I am sorry you found it to be unsatisfactory, my lord.”

“Do you find it satisfactory, Mr. Cochrane?”

Cochrane hesitated, as if unsure of how much of himself to expose. “I do not, my lord. Sir Malcolm has been unwilling to cooperate and allow me to handle such matters.”

“He has marginalized you,” Granger summed up.

Cochrane nodded. “I believe he views me as a threat to his authority, so he compels me to occupy my time with mundane reports and data.” Their conversation was truncated as they arrived at Bacchante.

“Welcome back, my lord,” Calvert said jovially.

“It is good to be back, Mr. Calvert. This is The Honorable Angus Cochrane, who is the adjutant to Sir Malcolm.”

“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” Calvert said. Granger contrasted their hair color. Calvert’s hair was more brown, with tinges of red, while Cochrane’s was about half red and half brown.

“I am going to meet with Mr. Cochrane below, then he is hoping to visit the wardroom. I will meet with you after that,” Granger said.

“Aye aye, my lord,” Calvert said. Granger led Cochrane down to his cabin, gave Winkler a perfunctory greeting, and then dismissed him.

“Join me in the quarter gallery,” Granger said, leading Cochrane back to what was his favorite part of his cabin, providing the weather was nice. “Rio is a lovely city.”

“It has its attractions, my lord. It is teeming with diverse groups, many who had sought their fortunes in the gold mines of Minas Gerais and are now reduced to scrounging out a living here instead.”

“An interesting choice for a young man to make,” Granger observed.

“Being posted to Rio was most definitely not my choice, my lord, but I have adapted and learned to enjoy it.”

“So why don’t you tell me of your real mission here,” Granger said firmly.

“I beg your pardon, my lord, but I would think that you would have been briefed on my mission before you left London.”

“I received a directive about it, but I want to hear about it from you, first hand.”

Cochrane swallowed hard. “My lord, I do not mean to be disrespectful, but it is difficult to answer your questions without knowing the extent to which the government has divulged information to you.”

Granger nodded, appreciating the young man’s dilemma. “That is a responsible answer, Mr. Cochrane. Evidently London has received your communiqués and is concerned. I am tasked by the Privy Council to investigate those concerns and to act as I see fit.”

“They have given you powers to take any actions you see fit, my lord?” Cochrane asked, quite surprised.

“My orders give me the authority to do just that, and to act with the King’s authority in this matter,” Granger said.

“Thank God,” Cochrane said, with great relief.

Copyright © 2014 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Chapter Comments

On 11/13/2012 04:22 PM, Rosicky said:
Ooh! Quite the elaborate set-up! This is going to prove to be quite an interesting endeavor! Lord Granger is at his best when he possesses Royal approbation to do what is right in his judgment! Can't wait for the things to start moving! :-) Thanks, Mark!
This actually ends up as a significant clue as to why Granger is going to the Indies.
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BASTARD! Of course I mean that in the most affectionate way. : |

I can't believe you posted this 4 hours before I have to be awake, gave us a taste of the mess and left us on the cliff again! UGH! sounds to me as though this need not have been kept a secret. SO either a family member is involved, Freddie, CAROLINE or his dad, or you fabricated it to create a storyline you didn't have prior to re-screwing your muse.

Time will tell.

  • Like 4
On 11/13/2012 04:42 PM, ricky said:
BASTARD! Of course I mean that in the most affectionate way. : |

I can't believe you posted this 4 hours before I have to be awake, gave us a taste of the mess and left us on the cliff again! UGH! sounds to me as though this need not have been kept a secret. SO either a family member is involved, Freddie, CAROLINE or his dad, or you fabricated it to create a storyline you didn't have prior to re-screwing your muse.

Time will tell.

And yet here I am, sticking to my weekly posting schedule, to wind you off the cliff.
  • Like 5
On 11/14/2012 02:49 AM, Daddydavek said:
It appears the almost loutish sir malcolm may be about to lose his job. I wonder if he will have to scrounge his way back to London?

We still do not know full account of the secret orders and I would not be surprised to learn that further intrigue is about to be revealed.

I think that Sir Malcolm only truly understands the power of money, and that makes him crass.
  • Like 5
On 11/14/2012 03:02 AM, stanollie said:
So that explains Granger's question about ANY British ships in the harbor. The envoy is going to need transportation. Historically the British have seldom reacted well with the South Americans, and Granger will be passing very close to the Falklands on his journey South.
I would take some cause with your assertion that the Brits didn't react well to South Americans. Some 20-30 years after this meeting, British soldiers and sailors, with the acquiescence of their government, will drive Chilean Independence through, with some brilliant assistance from Lord (Thomas) Cochrane.
  • Like 5
On 11/15/2012 10:13 AM, said:
That’s three posted chapters in a row without Will getting laid Markthumbsup.gif . Three whole chapters! And don’t try and hide behind the time difference between Paternity and Odyssey-before the pen of an author such obstacles are but mere trivialities.

 

In all seriousness, I hope this finds you well, in good spirits and good humor.

 

All the Best,

S.R.

Thanks! LOL. I've worked my way back to Will in Paternity (those chapters are in edit...you won't see them for a bit) but I haven't gotten him laid yet. Not technically.
  • Like 5

So, first there was Major Vincent van den Boss, followed by Colonel Jamie da Gama, then Colonel Juan Manuel de la Ventura and now Colonel da Colma. I like your idea Mark, that all work and no play would make George a dull boy (and he certainly isn't that). So now he has a problem Viceroy and a British Consul who appears to be in cahoots with and related to Maidstone. The plot thickens, a wonderful chapter, thank you.

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