HMS Valiant - 5. Chapter 5

June 13, 1799

Cowes, England

“George, this place you have created is just wonderful,” Caroline said, as they strolled down to the cutter. “I love these basins, and those fountains from Italy are simply magnificent.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Granger said with a smile. Caroline had come down here yesterday and brought the children, so they would be able to spend more time together as he fitted Valiant out. Having them here was wonderful, but it reminded Granger of what he would be missing when he finally sailed, and how he would never be able to be completely happy. Whether he was at sea, or at home, he was always leaving part of himself behind. “I am so glad you came down here to stay with me.”

“Well, the season is over, so there wasn’t really anything else for me to do,” she teased. “Freddy was talking about coming down to visit. I encouraged him to do so.” Lord Frederick Cavendish was one of his closest friends, and one of the men Granger truly loved. Granger couldn’t help but think of the stove Cavendish had bought for him and had installed in the Valiant. It was such a thoughtful gift, one so typical of him.

“He is always welcome,” Granger said. He handed Caroline into the cutter and boarded himself, then nodded to Jacobs, who began the trek to Valiant. She was still moored quite close to his home, although a bit farther out than when they’d taken on water, and that was quite convenient since it was thus possible for him to fully utilize his home. He pointed her out to Caroline, who studied this ship that would carry her husband to wherever the Admiralty determined he was needed.

“She glistens, George!”

“That is what spending scads of money on gold leaf will accomplish,” he joked. “Row around the ship, Jacobs.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said. As soon as they approached the ship, the band began to play.

“What wonderful music!” Caroline exclaimed.

“Thanks to Major Treadway, I think we have the best band in the fleet,” Granger said. “I will have to hope the marines are as good at shooting.”

“One can hope,” she said, “but as accomplished as they are, I find it difficult to believe they would be such incredible marksmen. Surely there are limits to their talents.”

“I will convey your compliments to them,” Granger said.

Caroline looked up at the gleaming figurehead, a particularly fierce looking horse. “Why did they pick a horse as the figurehead?” she asked.

“I posed that question to Sir Charles Saxton, the head of the dockyard, and he said the horse is a representation of Odin’s horse, and thus a figure from Norse mythology,” Granger said. “Presumably this particular horse was valiant.”

“Presumably,” Caroline noted. “He certainly looks fierce enough.”

“He is designed to strike fear into enemies, so they will dread what is to come,” Granger said playfully. “For your visit today, we have opted not to show off our broadsides.”

“What remarkable restraint,” Caroline responded with a smile. Jacobs pulled the cutter up smartly, and it hooked on to the chains. Granger went up the sides first, while they hauled Caroline aboard using a bosun’s chair. She had done this enough times that he did not have to explain things, or even prepare her for the event.

Granger mounted the side to the normal honors due a captain: twittering pipes and sideboys. “Welcome back, my lord,” Weston said as he stepped forward to greet Granger.

“Thank you, Mr. Weston,” Granger said formally, but his focus was on the bosun’s chair that lifted Caroline up from the boat, swayed her over the ship, and then lowered her gently down onto the deck.

“Welcome aboard, my lady,” Weston said, as Granger helped his wife out of the chair.

“Why thank you, Mr. Weston. How wonderful it is to see you again.” She chatted with Weston for a bit, and then went on to speak to Clifton. Clifton was at court often, when he was in London, so she knew him well. She greeted Eastwyck too, and congratulated him on his marriage. And then she got to Treadway. “How nice to see you again, Major!”

“It is good to see you again as well, my lady,” he said, but seemed uncharacteristically nervous.

She turned to Granger. “Major Treadway escorted me to a few balls while you were gone.”

“Thank you for watching out for my wife,” Granger said to Treadway, even as Granger was trying to decipher why he was nervous. Did he just escort Caroline to a social function, or did he sleep with her?

“It was my pleasure, my lord,” Treadway said. Caroline went on to talk to Hornblower, who had been standing there trying to look inconspicuous.

“Dear, this is Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower,” Granger said, introducing him. “He has a great deal of expertise in dealing with ships like Valiant, since he served aboard the Indefatigable. He has graciously volunteered to help us commission Valiant, and has been an enormous asset.”

“That is very impressive, Mr. Hornblower,” Caroline said. The poor man was blushing uncontrollably at this point. “George is rarely so effusive with his praise unless it is deserved.”

“I must thank you both, my lord, my lady,” Hornblower stammered. Granger eased his discomfort by introducing Caroline to the other officers.

“Let me show you the ship,” Granger said, and guided Caroline around this vessel that would convey her husband to God-knows-where.

“I am glad to see she is much bigger than your other ships, George,” she said. Presumably Caroline assumed that a bigger ship was safer in stormy seas. They would have to see if Valiant could live up to that hope.

Granger’s cabin was packed with his officers, and Lefavre had outdone himself by preparing a truly magnificent feast for them. Part of the band had assembled on the poop deck, just above them, so they were serenaded as they took their seats. They had just started eating when Granger heard a hail from the deck. Before he could hear the response, the band began to play again, which was maddening. Granger attempted to maintain the conversation he was having with Caroline, even though he was distracted by the sound of someone coming aboard.

There was a knock on his cabin door, and then the Marine guard opened it, ushering in a lieutenant. All conversation had stopped, as they stared at the poor man. He spotted Granger and strode confidently toward him. “My lord, I’m Lieutenant Smith, commanding the guard boat. This arrived for you from London.”

He handed Granger an envelope, in that familiar stationery that was only used by the Admiralty. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith. Won’t you join us?”

“Thank you, my lord, but I have additional orders to deliver,” he said.

“Then you must call on us when you have more time,” Granger said affably.

“Thank you, my lord,” Smith said, then saluted and left. Granger was of a mind to continue his dinner and wait to open the letter, but it could be urgent. He broke the seal and took out the letter, a simple enough document, instructing him to travel to the Admiralty as soon as convenient.

“I am bidden to the Admiralty,” Granger said to Caroline.

“Will you want us to return with you?” she asked, referring to her and the children.

“I do not think I will be there that long,” Granger said. “Why don’t you stay here, and if it looks as if I’ll be there for more than a week, I will send you word.”

“I will leave it to you to enjoy a carriage ride to London and back, then,” she joked.

Granger looked around the table, and focused on Hornblower. “Mr. Hornblower, I would be obliged if you would accompany me.”

“Of course, my lord,” he said nervously.

“We will leave at dawn,” Granger declared, then refocused on entertaining his officers, and his wife.

June 15, 1799

London, England

“Have you spent much time in London?” Granger asked Hornblower, as the carriage pulled up to the Admiralty.

“No, my lord,” Hornblower said. He was more rigid than normal, which made Granger suspect that was the case.

“Well, we will try to make sure you enjoy this visit,” Granger said. “I must report in, and then we have some errands to run. I suspect we’ll only have a few days in town.”

“I appreciate your kindness, my lord,” Hornblower said. He hadn’t been very good company on the ride up here. He was the kind of man who seemed quite content to look inside himself, and wrangle with whatever demons accosted him internally.

“You have been of great assistance as we have commissioned Valiant, Mr. Hornblower,” Granger said. Before Hornblower could respond, Granger hopped out of the carriage. Granger was fortunate that he was not known to be in London, so even though his carriage betrayed his identity, there were no crowds waiting to hound him. Hornblower followed him into the Admiralty, where Granger signed in and took a seat with Hornblower in the waiting room. It was crowded as usual, but Granger used Hornblower as his shield, pretending to be deep in conversation with him. That took a considerable effort, since Hornblower was not an accomplished conversationalist.

He had to wait for only ten minutes before the secretary ushered him back to Spencer’s office. Granger left Hornblower in the waiting area, looking somewhat lost now that he was alone. He walked into the First Lord’s office and forgot about his borrowed lieutenant. “Ah, Granger!” Spencer said jovially. “You responded quite quickly to my summons.”

“Of course, sir,” Granger said, summoning his charm, something that he had certainly not been able to exercise on his long ride to London with Hornblower.

“How is Valiant?” Granger knew that Spencer was asking him whether she was ready for sea.

“Sir, my officers and men have worked wonders,” Granger said proudly. “We should be ready for sea within a fortnight.”

Spencer looked at him as if he did not believe him. “That’s much faster than I dared hope.”

“I try to bring you pleasant surprises from time to time, sir,” Granger said with a grin.

“You were able to fully man her?” That was a reasonable question, since finding seamen was always a challenge in wartime.

“Yes, sir,” Granger said. He’d been impressed at the steady trickle of men who had found their way to volunteer to serve with him. He knew that was a rarity, and that most captains had to go to extreme efforts to find a crew. “We have some three hundred men aboard, just twenty short of a full complement.” Ships rarely sailed with the prescribed number of seamen aboard, and at that level, the ship would be considered over crewed by most of Granger’s contemporaries.

“That is yet another pleasant surprise,” Spencer said.

“It was for me as well, sir,” Granger said honestly.

“Well, I have a mission for you which may not be quite as pleasant as the surprises you have given me,” Spencer said. Granger kept his face passive, even as his insides roiled in apprehension over what horrible task Spencer would assign him.

“What would you have me do, sir?” Granger asked, taking the initiative.

“St. Vincent is unwell,” Spencer said.

“Hopefully he is not in mortal danger, sir?” Granger asked nervously. St. Vincent would be the Earl St. Vincent, the man formerly known as Sir John Jervis. Granger had a great deal of respect for St. Vincent, and was quite fond of him, so his question showed his concern.

“Not as of the last communiqué I received,” Spencer said.

“I am glad to hear that,” Granger said with relief. St. Vincent was the toughest admiral in the fleet, and while Granger was known to be one of his favorites, it was no picnic serving under him. He’d shuttled St. Vincent to the Mediterranean when he’d first taken up that command, when Granger commanded Belvidera. He had been a difficult passenger. Having him aboard Valiant would not be a fun experience.

“Nonetheless, his health has deteriorated to the point that he must relinquish command of the Mediterranean Fleet to Lord Keith,” Spencer said. That brought up a whole new line of thought. Granger had served with Keith before, and the man had always been civil to him, but there was no close bond between them. Keith was a Scot, and liked to surround himself with men of that race. Granger was also aware that there was no great affection between Nelson and Keith and as Granger was known to be a favorite of Nelson’s as well, that may harm Keith’s impression of him. And to top it all off, Nelson was already riled up about the siege of Acre. Sir Sidney Smith had been dispatched to the Levant to try and stop Napoleon’s march on Turkey, and had been spectacularly successful thus far. But he had been given that command and been put outside of Nelson’s control, and since Nelson was commanding the squadron near Naples and thus the eastern Mediterranean, Nelson had been furious. Granger got along quite well with Sir Sidney Smith; they’d burned the French fleet at Toulon together. He wondered if all these petty squabbles had taken their toll on St. Vincent.

“He must indeed be unwell if he has asked for his own recall, sir,” Granger mused.

“Indeed,” Spencer said. “But we must get him home. That is to be your job.” Granger tore his mind from Mediterranean Fleet politics and brought himself back to the task at hand.

“It is fortunate that I will have time to drill my crew into shape before we retrieve him. Where is he located, sir?”

“Gibraltar, the last I heard, so indeed you are fortunate. I would have you leave as soon as practical. When you return, we’ll have something else for you to do, but this should give you a chance to see how Valiant performs, and to make any adjustments,” Spencer said. “If you arrive to find he has already sailed home, your orders will be to return to England immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” Granger agreed, all that he could do.

“I saw from your reports that you felt the need to add an additional lieutenant to Valiant’s wardroom,” Spencer noted, his brows furrowing in irritation.

“Yes, sir,” Granger said hastily to explain himself. “Mr. Hornblower was awaiting passage to the Mediterranean, where he is to join the Marguerite.”

“I am aware of that, Granger,” Spencer said dourly.

“He served under Sir Edward Pellew in the Indefatigable, and Sir Edward recommended him to me. He has been most helpful in configuring Valiant, sir, and is a key contributor to her hasty completion,” Granger said.

“I suspect the Marguerite will have survived without his services,” Spencer said.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but it was my thought that I could take him with us to Gibraltar,” Granger said. “I suspect that we will have him there as fast as if he’d have left last month.”

“What do you make of him?”

“He is dour and serious, but he is very intelligent,” Granger said of Hornblower. “He has natural ability with mathematics, and the men respect him and follow his orders. But I would not expect to be entertained with lively conversation.”

“Pellew raves about him, and all but strong-armed me into promoting him while he was captive in Spain,” Spencer said.

“I think, sir, that history will judge that to be an excellent decision on your part,” Granger said.

“Indeed?” Spencer noted curiously, and then got back to business. “I would ask that you stay here until June 20^th. I will see you that morning, and give you your orders.”

“Aye aye, sir,” Granger said.

“Then perhaps you and Caroline would be willing to join my wife and me for dinner on the 19^th?” Spencer asked.

“I would be honored to attend, sir, but Caroline has traveled to Cowes to be near me as we commission Valiant. I rode up here with Mr. Hornblower, in case you needed to speak to him before he left for the Mediterranean.” Granger had actually been planning to ask Spencer if he could add Hornblower to Valiant’s wardroom as a fourth lieutenant, since she was such a large ship, but he’d dropped that plan in the face of Spencer’s irritation at having kept Hornblower busy for so long.

“Then you can bring Hornblower to dinner with you,” Spencer said. “We’ll see if Lavinia can charm him out of his shell.” Spencer was referring to his wife, a delightful and cultured woman.

“If she cannot, then he is hopeless, sir,” Granger joked. “I plan to present him to His Majesty on the 19^th. It will be a busy day for him.”

“I suspect it will,” Spencer said. He rose up, indicating that their interview was over.

“I will see you on the 19^th, sir,” Granger said, and then took his leave of Spencer. He found Hornblower waiting in the same place as he’d left him, and all it took was a look from Granger to get Hornblower to follow him out of the Admiralty.

A crowd had formed, and the sergeant of marines forced a passage for him to his carriage. “It seems you are still popular, my lord,” the sergeant said.

“Indeed,” Granger said ruefully. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“It was my pleasure, my lord,” he said. Granger waved to the crowd, then followed Hornblower into the carriage.

“Do those crowds form wherever you go, my lord?” Hornblower asked.

“They are generally worse around the Admiralty,” Granger said.

“That makes sense, begging your pardon, my lord,” Hornblower said.

“We are to be in London until the 20^th,” Granger told him. “I have plans for you this afternoon, and on the 19^th, but you are free to do as you choose the rest of the time.”

Hornblower blinked at him. “Of course, my lord. I don’t have any obligations in London, so I would be happy to assist you with anything you need.”

Granger smiled. “I will keep that in mind. In the meantime, we are going to see my tailor.”

“Of course, my lord,” Hornblower said, wondering why Granger would drag him along for that errand.

“It was my intention to ask Lord Spencer if he would permit me to add you to Valiant’s wardroom,” Granger said. He saw the poor man’s eyes light up with hope, and Granger felt bad, knowing that he would now dash them. “Unfortunately, that did not receive a favorable response.”

“I am truly sorry for that, my lord,” Hornblower said, “but I am flattered that you would want me as part of your wardroom.”

“I explained to his lordship that your help was largely responsible for the advanced state of Valiant’s preparations for sea. He has agreed to allow us to convey you to the Mediterranean to meet up with Marguerite,” Granger noted.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Have you been presented to His Majesty?” Granger asked.

“I have not, my lord,” Hornblower responded.

“Every officer should have the chance to meet his sovereign,” Granger said, and almost smiled at how much he sounded like his father. “I will take you to see him on the 19^th.”

Hornblower’s eyes bulged, and he looked down at his shoes, which were clearly not good enough to pass muster at the Palace. “My lord…” he began nervously.

Granger stopped him by speaking. “You have done much to help me, and since I cannot add you to my crew, I have chosen to repay you by outfitting you so you can feel more comfortable at the Palace.”

“My lord, that really is not necessary,” Hornblower objected. Granger smiled inwardly at Hornblower’s pride, at his unwillingness to accept charity from Granger, as he saw it.

“I think it is, Mr. Hornblower,” Granger said more severely. “I would recommend that you accept graciously so you do not offend me.”

Hornblower blanched at that, seemed to evaluate his situation, then acquiesced. “Thank you for your generosity, my lord.” Granger said nothing in response, but merely nodded.

“You are invited to join me for dinner on the 19^th with Lord and Lady Spencer,” Granger said. Hornblower seemed almost more nervous about that than he did about going to the Palace.

At the tailor, Granger took charge, all but ignoring Hornblower, and ordering an appropriate set of uniforms for him. He did the same thing when they got to the shoemaker. Hornblower seemed quite dazed and confused by the whole thing.

The young lieutenant had been invaluable, and Granger was determined to do what he could to help him along. Granger could see how talented he was, but he was totally bereft of influence, and that was usually a career killer in the Navy. He would need assistance if he was to rise in the Navy, especially if he had to do so based on his own charm, Granger thought ruefully.

June 17, 1799

London, England

Granger sat in his library, reading and responding to letters, mostly from his tenants on various estates. Caroline handled these matters when he was gone, but when he was home, he felt obligated to take a more active part in managing their affairs. He was drafting a response to a request from one of his tenants for rent abatement when someone entered his study, distracting him. Granger looked up, hiding the annoyment he felt. “What is it, Winkler?”

“Dinner is ready, my lord,” Winkler said. “Mr. Hornblower has already come down.”

Granger looked at the half-finished letter with frustration, and put down his pen reluctantly. He suddenly realized he was quite hungry, a feeling which motivated him more than the thought of keeping Hornblower waiting. “Very well,” he said.

He strode into the dining room, where Hornblower stood waiting for him. “Good afternoon, my lord,” he said stiffly, as was his way.

“And to you, Mr. Hornblower,” Granger said, gesturing for Hornblower to have a seat at the table. The servants brought out food, and with the appetites of young men, they said little as they ate, sating their hunger.

“My lord, I was wondering if you had plans for this evening.” Hornblower asked nervously.

Granger eyed him with surprise. Hornblower had shown no inclination to go out on the town, as it were, and had, to Granger’s knowledge, largely remained here in Portland Place. “I am not sure,” Granger responded, to leave his options open. “Why do you ask?”

“My lord, I am planning to attend the performance of a play tonight. I have been asked to see if your lordship would join me,” Hornblower replied. He was clearly uncomfortable with making this request.

“You do not strike me as a man who is a fan of the theater, Mr. Hornblower,” Granger said, teasing him. He was well aware that Hornblower hated music, not that he would say anything, but it was obvious to an astute observer like Granger.

“I would not style myself as one, my lord,” Hornblower said, with a smile, then seemed nervous that he’d actually almost been charming and the smile vanished. “The actress, Kitty Cobham, is a friend of mine, and is performing in the play.”

Granger had heard of Kitty Cobham, who had been a popular intimate of several of London’s more illustrious men. It was rumored that she had shared the bed of the Prince of Wales, as well as a few of his brothers. Granger found it hard to imagine Hornblower sweeping her off her feet. “How do you know her?”

“She was aboard La Reve, the French prize I commanded, when we were captured by the Spanish fleet, my lord,” Hornblower said. “She was posing as the Duchess of Wharfedale, and maintained her pose to spirit the dispatches we were carrying back to London.”

“Indeed?” Granger asked. He had known Hornblower was a Spanish prisoner, and about La Reve’s capture, but he did not know about this woman.

“Aye, my lord. And as she has done me that favor, of carrying dispatches back instead of forcing me to throw them overboard, she has asked me to return the gesture by inviting you to the play tonight,” Hornblower said. It was clearly agonizing to him to be put in this situation, which Granger found odd, since he had grown up in a world where it was customary to do favors for other people, and to ask for them.

“So my presence will help you pay off a debt?” Granger asked, smiling. “And what play is this?”

“Venice Preserv’d, my lord,” Hornblower said. And then Granger understood why his presence was so important. The main character of that play was Belvidera, a woman for whom his former ship had been named.

“I think it is only fair that I help you out, and also compliment my former command by going to this play,” Granger said. “What time is the performance?”

“It is at 6:00, my lord, at the Drury Lane Theater,” Hornblower said.

“Then let us finish our dinner, and we will get ready to go see this play,” Granger said.

“Thank you, my lord.” They did just that, and met downstairs later. Hornblower looked positively dull next to Granger, who wore his best dress uniform, complete with the ribbon and star from his knighthood, and the gold medal he’d been awarded for the Battle of St. Vincent. It was not lost on Granger that these medals and honors that he wore were won while he had commanded Belvidera.

They boarded the carriage for the brief ride to the Theater Royal. It was massive, presumably with the ability to house over three thousand spectators. As soon as Granger’s carriage stopped, it was surrounded by throngs of people who wanted to get a glimpse of him. They cheered, even as he removed his hat and smiled woodenly. His footmen cleared a path for them to the theater, where they were met by Mr. Sheridan, the owner. “What an honor you do us with your presence, my lord,” he said, giving Granger a courtly bow.

“Thank you, Mr. Sheridan,” Granger said politely. “You have chosen to memorialize the namesake of my former command. I would honor her by attending.”

“Your exploits are known by all, my lord,” he said. He led Granger to a box, the same one that the King used when he attended plays here. When Granger walked into the box, the other spectators roared out, cheering and applauding him. Granger detested this kind of attention, but he was nothing if not polite, so he took off his hat and bowed to the audience to thank them. The play started shortly after that, thankfully ending the accolades from Granger’s adoring public.

The play was a tragedy, and while Belvidera was the most noble of the main characters, she certainly was not without her flaws. Granger attempted to pay attention to the play, but found himself easily distracted by the building itself. It was massive, with five tiers of galleries. “My lord, they have used iron beams to support the structure instead of wood,” Hornblower whispered. Granger smiled, correctly surmising that the play itself was of little interest to Hornblower, but the engineering of the theater was intensely fascinating to the young man.

“I suspect we will see that material in more and more of our structures,” Granger speculated. “Perhaps someday ships will be built of iron instead of wood.”

“Perhaps, my lord,” Hornblower said skeptically, but Granger could see him mulling that over in his mind. After the play, Granger was introduced to Kitty Cobham.

“A fantastic performance, Miss Cobham,” Granger said, even though it had been good, but not fantastic.

“Why thank you, my lord. And what a pleasure to not only perform for you, but to meet you as well,” she said, flirting shamelessly.

“Mr. Hornblower was most persuasive in convincing me to come out tonight to see your play, and I am most glad of his representations,” Granger said, to make sure she knew Hornblower was responsible for him being here.

“It is good to see you again, Mr. Hornblower,” she said, turning her attention to that young man.

“And you as well, Miss Cobham,” Hornblower said stiffly, even as he blushed furiously.

Granger stifled a laugh, and after a few more pleasantries, they were able to extract themselves from the theater and forge a path back to the carriage. “Thank you for inviting me to the play, Mr. Hornblower,” Granger said.

“I must thank you, my lord, for helping me repay a favor.”

June 19, 1799

London, England

Granger watched as Hornblower walked into his library and then stopped. He stood there, as if modeling his new clothes for Granger. Hornblower looked quite good in his new uniform. This one fit him correctly, and with real gold lace instead of the brassy metal he’d had before. Granger scrutinized him carefully, making sure there was nothing amiss that would embarrass them. The only flaw Granger could find was that Hornblower’s silk stockings accentuated his long, spindly legs, showing that he had calves that were in need of some additional muscle. It was something he probably wasn’t proud of, but it couldn’t be helped. Granger realized that he’d been staring at Hornblower, making him incredibly uncomfortable. “You look very good, Mr. Hornblower. You are ready to meet His Majesty.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Hornblower said dubiously.

“Let us go,” Granger said, and led Hornblower out to the waiting carriage. It was a short ride to St. James’s Palace, where they rode up and got out of the carriage, taking care not to get any mud on their shoes or stockings. As they walked into the palace, Granger was conscious that Hornblower had latched onto him, and could sense how nervous the man was. Granger suspected that if you put Hornblower in the most heated of battles, he’d be more comfortable than he was here.

They approached the chamberlain, and Granger told him their names, even though the chamberlain was well aware of who Granger was. “The Right Honorable Viscount Granger, Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower,” the chamberlain announced as they entered the room. They entered this world that was as familiar to Granger as it was foreign to Hornblower. Granger approached the throne, bowing low to his sovereign, and noting that Hornblower mimicked his moves perfectly, even if they were a little stunted.

“We are pleased to see you,” the King said.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. May I present one of my officers?” The King waved his hand casually to indicate his consent. “Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower.”

“We are happy to see you here,” he said to Hornblower.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Hornblower stammered.

“Will you be sailing soon?” the King asked Granger.

“I am indeed, Your Majesty. I hope you will allow me to take my leave of you? I am to leave for Spithead in the morning,” Granger said. Hornblower watched Granger intently, envying how smooth he was, and how comfortable he was.

“We wish you a good voyage,” the King said. Granger smiled, and then bowed as he backed away from the throne, while Hornblower once again mimicked his moves.

Granger led Hornblower toward the back of the room, where courtiers assembled to gossip and scheme. He saw a familiar figure and smiled. “Father,” he said, and held out his hands.

“George,” the Duke of Suffolk said. “I heard you were in town, but I only returned to London last night. Will you be here for long?”

“I fear not. I am leaving tomorrow morning, and will probably be at sea by the end of the month,” Granger said.

“Perhaps you can join me for dinner?”

“I am bidden to dine with Lord Spencer. If you are available, perhaps we could sup together?”

“I will make myself available,” he said.

“This is Lieutenant Hornblower. He has been an invaluable help as I’ve commissioned Valiant,” Granger said, introducing them.

“It is nice to meet you, Mr. Hornblower.”

“The pleasure is mine, Your Grace,” Hornblower said nervously. The Duke of Suffolk raised an eyebrow slightly at this awkward young man, but turned his attention back to his son.

“Then I will see you this evening?”

“Most certainly,” Granger said. He socialized with these people, dragging an uncomfortable Hornblower along with him, until Granger felt he had performed his duties for the day, and he sensed that Hornblower was even more anxious to leave. “And how did you enjoy your day at Court?”

“Quite well, my lord,” Hornblower lied. Granger smiled, and wondered if Hornblower would ever be comfortable in high society.