HMS Belvidera - 14. Chapter 14

October, 1795

A hand was shaking him, dragging him away from a dream that was already forgotten. His whole body ached, and his mind searched back to try and figure out why. Slowly it came back to him, as he remembered his long journey, from Spithead to London, and then he forced his eyes open and blinked at the cause of his wakefulness: Winkler, of course.

“Sir, a messenger just arrived from the Admiralty. They've asked you to appear forthwith,” Winkler said. That meant immediately. Granger shot out of bed and began making himself presentable: A shave, a spritz of perfume, a fresh shirt, and his dress coat, which Winkler had miraculously managed to clean up from yesterday's activities. The young man was amazingly efficient.

He wanted to run down the stairs, but that was not consistent with his dignity, and since he was here at his parent's home, he might possibly hear about it. His father was at the bottom of the stairs, waiting to greet him. “You are summoned to the Admiralty?”

“Yes, Father,” Granger said.

“Don't let this Wilcox issue worry you. People know what happened. They can read between the lines,” he said.

“Thank you, Father,” Granger said.

“I am going to see the King this afternoon. I would like you to accompany me,” he said.

“It isn't audience day, is it?” Granger asked.

“No, it is a personal meeting, but he will want to see you, and I want him to see you,” he said.

“Of course, Father,” Granger said.

“Caroline is at Brentwood, as you know,” his father said. “I've dispatched a messenger to alert her that you are home.”

“Thank you, Father,” Granger said, smiling at the thought of seeing Caroline. Then he put that aside and all but dashed out to the carriage. Why would his father want him to see the King? Granger always went to Court to pay his respects, but on the days when the King held audiences. A private meeting was a rarity, and not just a little intimidating. Those thoughts got pushed to the back of his mind as he arrived at the Admiralty. He glanced at his watch and smiled; he'd been asleep an hour ago. He'd made good time.

Granger signed in and tried to find a secluded corner to sit in, which was somewhat difficult since the waiting room was so crowded. He made a perfunctory glance around to see if there was anyone he knew, not that he wanted company. His mind was focused on the task at hand, at surviving this interview in the face of blatant hostility from Wilcox, and thankfully, he was able to wait in peace. Fortunately his wait was brief.

A secretary conducted Granger down the well-trodden hallway to the office of the First Lord and announced him. Lord Spencer rose up and greeted him in a friendly manner. Spencer was the same as Granger remembered him, with that same intellectual air and that same grace and charm that he exhibited at social functions. Granger was on guard: Spencer's friendly manner may simply be the result of that grace and charm. “Well Granger, you are destined to provide me with interesting reading material, or so it seems.”

“Yes, my lord,” Granger said, smiling.

“Wilcox has been raising hell about you abandoning the convoy,” Spencer said.

“My lord, I did not abandon the convoy. We had severe damage to our mainmast, and I requested and received permission to drop back and make those repairs,” Granger said defensively.

“Yet you ended up in Madeira?” Spencer asked.

“Yes, my lord. The weather was too rough to replace a spar at sea, so we limped into Funchal to find a calm berth to do so,” Granger answered.

“And then, instead of returning straight to the convoy, you hovered around for a few days to pick up a fat prize?” Spencer asked.

“Yes, my lord. The Portuguese seemed to be acting suspiciously, and there were a few slips by their people that led me to believe they were expecting an enemy ship to arrive,” Granger answered. Spencer seemed to digest that, and paused as if to think of his next move.

“The newspapers are accusing Admiral Wilcox of cowardice in your action with Floreal,” Spencer said, prodding Granger, trying to get him to say something.

“I saw a few of the articles, my lord,” Granger said.

“And you're not going to defend him?” he asked.

“No, my lord,” Granger answered, which was the equivalent of agreeing that he was a coward.

“There is talk of a court martial,” he said. “Wilcox at first claimed that Captain Howard disobeyed his orders, but he has since changed his tune.”

“When he ordered Belvidera into battle, my lord, and did not order Illustrious or Centurion to increase sail in support, we hung out the interrogatory signal. Admiral Wilcox simply repeated his order for us to engage the enemy more closely,” Granger said. “Captain Howard finally decided to support us on his own initiative, and Centurion sent signals up, even fired a gun to get his attention, to stop him from doing so.”

“So all is well in the end,” Spencer said.

“I am not sure those who were killed or wounded would think so, my lord,” Granger said, speaking when he knew he shouldn't.

“A career in the Navy is full of risks,” snapped Spencer, his patience with the matter obviously exhausted.

“Yes, my lord, and we all accept that. But because Belvidera went into action unsupported, seven dead and twenty-two wounded men were harmed needlessly.” Granger said. “Lord Frederick Cavendish was among them.” He watched Spencer's eyes bulge when he heard that.

“He wasn't killed, was he?” Spencer asked nervously, exposing his concern at this new piece of information. That he let on he was nervous seemed to irritate him.

“No, my lord, he received a splinter wound in the thigh. He appears to be well, but has a limp. We are hoping that will fade with time,” Granger said.

“So you are telling me that the Duke of Portland may feel the need to ensure that this affair sees justice?” Spencer asked.

“My lord, I would not presume to know His Grace's motives or objectives. I am content to leave politics to you,” Granger said with a smile, trying to lighten things up just a bit.

“It is interesting that you say that, Granger, since you seem to be damn good at it,” Spencer said.

“I am not sure that is a compliment, my lord,” Granger said.

“Neither am I,” Spencer said. Granger watched him try not to smile, and then his expression softened instead. “I was very pleased with your performance, Granger. You did very well. You acted on your own initiative, and you will certainly cause the Portuguese some headaches. The questions I asked you are those you may encounter during your stay in London.” In other words, Spencer was preparing him.

“Thank you, my lord,” Granger said.

“This prize you brought in looks to set a record in value for a ship that wasn't carrying gold,” Spencer said. “Maybe that will soften Wilcox up a bit.”

“I am not sure why, my lord,” Granger said. “I was not operating under his orders at the time.” Spencer looked at him thoughtfully, then smiled and nodded. Admirals collected an eighth of the value of prizes taken by ships under their command. But Granger was operating under admiralty orders, and had been detached from the convoy, and thus from Wilcox's control, when he made the capture. He'd instructed his agent to fight vehemently to prevent Wilcox from getting his share.

“It seems you are destined to tie up the Admiralty Courts as well,” Spencer joked. Then he got serious. “This business with the Portuguese, I want you to stay quiet about it. They are our allies, and we want to handle it delicately.”

“Yes, my lord. And if I am asked about it?”

“You should answer that you're not at liberty to talk about it,” Spencer said.

“I am bidden to see His Majesty today,” Granger said. “I am assuming it is acceptable to talk to him about it, my lord?”

“Of course,” Spencer said. “Stay in London for a few days. I want you around until we see how this thing settles out. And by the way, I am sure this won't be an issue, but there will be no affairs of honor over this matter.”

In other words, there was to be no dueling. Granger realized that with Wilcox accused of cowardice, he could very well say that Granger was the accuser, and had thus impugned his honor. That was grounds for a challenge. “I will do my best to avoid it, my lord,” Granger said. If his honor was challenged, he couldn't let that go, so that was about as much of a commitment as he could make to Spencer. Spencer seemed to understand that.

“Will you be at Portland Place?” Spencer asked.

“I will, my lord. I would have gone there last night, but I was not aware that it had been completed,” Granger said.

“Your wife was gracious enough to entertain us there. It is quite spectacular. And now you must go see His Majesty,” Spencer said, ending his interview.

“Yes, my lord,” Granger said, and took his leave.

Granger was used to coming to St. James Palace when it was crowded, so today it seemed almost empty, even though there were still a lot of people milling about. His father breezed past the Chamberlain and the Guards and led Granger straight to a door, which he scratched. They entered when bidden. It was a long room, and the King was standing at the end of it in front of a desk. Granger and his father both bowed low then approached the King, bowing again before they spoke. Or rather, before he spoke. One never addressed the King; one was addressed by the King.

“We are pleased to see you on this fine day, Lord Bridgemont,” the King said affably.

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty,” his father said. “I have taken the liberty of bringing my son with me.”

“We are pleased to see you as well, Captain Granger,” the King said politely.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said, trying to calm his nerves.

“Once again your exploits have filled the news,” the King said, smiling. “We understand you uncovered a rather devious scheme by our Portuguese allies.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Granger said. “From the papers I captured, it would appear that the scheme was limited to the officials in Madeira and not the Court in Lisbon.”

“That is most gratifying,” the King said. Another door opened, distracting them, and the Duke of Clarence walked in. He looked resplendent in his Admiral's uniform. He was in his 30’s, but still cut quite the dashing figure.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing to his father. He nodded to the Earl and to Granger. “Welcome home, Granger,” he said, his tone friendly.

“Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” Granger said as he bowed.

“Tell us of this battle you fought with the French ship, the Floreal, isn't it? This was your second encounter with that ship, was it not?” The King asked. Granger was no fool. He understood that the Duke of Clarence was there to act as a technical expert of sorts, someone the King could rely upon to give him a candid viewpoint.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Granger said. He described the battle, how Belvidera had been ordered in, and how the Admiral had held back the two ships of the line. He described the action itself, noting the effect of Floreal's broadsides. He had planned to just give a brief description, but the Duke of Clarence asked for details, and seemed enraptured by the battle as Granger laid it out. The King and his father both seemed interested as well, so Granger spun it out in the form of a story, putting in as many facts as he remembered. Granger made sure to give Howard full credit for his own act of brave defiance. “Were it not for the arrival of Illustrious, I cannot say honestly whether Belvidera would have survived the French attack,” Granger said.

“That was quite brave, Captain, pitting a frigate against a ship of the line. Twice in fact,” the Duke of Clarence said.

“Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” Granger said, trying not to beam and blush at such praise.

“You continue to impress us, Captain. We are pleased with your conduct,” the King said. Granger recognized that they were being dismissed.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said. He and his father bowed in unison, and then backed out of the room, bowing again. They strode from the palace, not speaking until they got into the carriage.

“You did very well, George,” the Earl said. “Your description of your battle was quite vivid.”

“Thank you, Father,” Granger said. “You brought me here to control the damage from Wilcox's attacks?”

“I think it is best to make sure that the King is aware of what happened,” his father said, agreeing with his assertion. “You must also humor me for being proud of my son.”

Granger tried not to let that statement shock him too much, but it was impossible. Such praise from his stoic father was overwhelming. “Thank you, Father. That means a lot coming from you,” Granger said, biting back tears.

“There are three other Wilcox relatives that outrank you,” The Earl said. “Vice Admiral Colby and Rear Admiral Mann, who are related by marriage, and Vice Admiral Maynard Wilcox, the brother of your esteemed admiral. You must watch out for these men.” He had sneered when he spoke the word ‘esteemed’.

“Thank you, Father, I will,” Granger said, lodging those names in his memory.

“I thought we would drop you off at your home,” the Earl said. “Winkler moved your things over while you were at the Admiralty.”

“It will be exciting to see it,” Granger said enthusiastically.

“I fear I must leave you to explore on your own,” the earl said. “I have an engagement this evening.”

The carriage pulled up to the large stone house. “Thank you again for taking me to see the King,” Granger said as he jumped out of the carriage. His father nodded and then left. Granger stood there as the carriage rolled off, sending dust flying up in its wake. He found himself all alone, eying this massive edifice that was his house. He mounted the steps and a footman miraculously appeared to open the door and let him in. Granger paused to admire the livery Caroline had picked out. The footman wore a tunic in Bridgemont Blue. The tunic was faced with Lammert yellow, which was also the color of his breeches and stockings

A man in a formal suit came forward, presumably the butler. “Good afternoon, sir,” he said. “I'm Cheevers.” Granger eyed this man who appeared much too young to be a butler. He was under 30 years old, and had black hair that added to his formality.

“Nice to meet you Cheevers,” Granger said. “Perhaps you can show me my house.”

“Yes, sir,” Cheevers said, smiling. He led Granger through the rooms that Caroline had shown him last time he was here, only instead of plaster and dust, now there was fine wood and stonework along with fresh paint. He toured through the house with Cheevers, and then ended up in his favorite spot, the bathing pools his grandfather had built for him. They had finished the room, making it look Roman with all the floors and walls clad in marble and the ceiling supported by tasteful Ionic columns.

“I think I will relax in the pools,” Granger announced.

“We will heat up the water for you while you prepare, sir,” Cheevers said. Granger headed up to his room and found Winkler there, helpful as ever.

“What do you think of our new home?” Granger asked him.

“Very nice, sir,” Winkler said, smiling at him. “But I like being at sea.”

“If Jeffers were here, I'm wondering if your opinion might change?” Granger teased. Winkler blushed.

“There you are sir, all ready for a bath. That will give me a chance to spruce up this uniform,” Winkler said. Granger walked downstairs in his robe and headed to the bath. He dropped his robe cavalierly, letting it land on the floor, and stepped into the pool of gloriously warm and clear fresh water. It really was heavenly. He floated and soaked, letting the fresh water leech the salt out of his body. He was so intent on enjoying himself, he didn't see or hear Cheevers enter.

“I beg your pardon, sir, but you have a caller. I told him you were indisposed, but he asked me to announce him anyway,” Cheevers said nervously.

“Who is he?” Granger asked.

“Mr. Arthur Teasdale, sir,” Cheevers said.

“Please show him back here,” Granger said. Cheevers disappeared and came back promptly with Arthur.

Arthur eyed the pool and his eyes got as big as his grin. “Hello George! I heard you were back in town. I hope I'm not intruding,” he said.

“Not at all,” Granger said. “Join me.” Teasdale’s grin grew even bigger as he turned and went over to one of the small rooms on the side designed specifically to be changing rooms. He came out nude, looking cute as he always did. His short, scrawny body somehow made him incredibly sexy.

He stepped cautiously into the water until he felt its warmth, and then entered quickly. “This is marvelous,” he said as he moved over to Granger, who was sitting in one of the corners on a shelf designed for just that purpose. “We have much to learn from the Romans. I should have one of these installed at my home.”

“Why, when you can use this one?” Granger asked as he pulled Arthur to him and sat him on his lap. Granger's erection grazed Arthur's ass as he sat down. Granger thought it was just foreplay, but Arthur reached down and grabbed Granger's dick and slid it right in. Granger smiled at his slutty friend, and pulled him in for a deep kiss. They stayed like that, intertwined, while Granger slowly fucked him, making it last as long as he could.

“I could do this forever,” Arthur said, moaning, “but my body won't let me.” He leaned back and stroked his dick only a few times and shot his wad into the pool. Granger watched his strings of cum float animated in the water, and that triggered his own orgasm. Even after they both came, they stayed linked, just enjoying being with each other, until Granger's dick finally deflated enough to pop out of Arthur's ass.

“What a wonderful surprise, having you stop by like this,” Granger said, grinning. He really did care deeply for Arthur.

“I was hoping you'd feel that way,” Arthur said, returning his grin. Then he got serious. “There is more to my visit than just pleasure.”

“Indeed?” Granger asked.

“Caroline has been making inquiries about Captain Travers,” Arthur said. “That's unwise.”

Granger eyed him carefully, trying to digest what he was saying. Caroline was probing into who Travers had behind him here in London, and that had upset someone, presumably the person behind the scenes. She was in no physical danger, but Arthur seemed to think there was some other reason for caution. “I don't understand why, Arthur?” he asked.

Arthur sighed. “There are times when I wish you trusted me enough simply to take my advice without asking for explanations.”

“If I did that, followed you along meekly, you wouldn't find me nearly as attractive,” Granger flirted. Arthur just rolled his eyes and blushed slightly.

“That's probably true,” he said. “But this is one of those times where you really must just trust me. The alternative is to find yourselves ostracized.”

“Ostracized? From whom?” Granger demanded.

“From society,” Arthur said. “Or at least the part that matters.”

Granger ignored his arrogance. “The only person strong enough to make that happen would be a member of the Royal Family,” Granger observed. He saw Arthur physically cringe at that.

“I have said all I have to say!” Arthur said abruptly. He made to leave but Granger stopped him.

“Arthur, you know you can trust me,” Granger said. He saw Arthur start to argue but he raised his hand to stop him. “Clearly there is another person that has sworn you to secrecy. Rather than threatening me, why don't you tell this person that I will pledge my word of honor not to reveal anything that you tell me?”

“I'm not sure that is possible,” he said.

“Unless Caroline knows, she will endeavor to find out, even if I pledge not to. It would be much safer to pull us into your cadre, I should think,” Granger said. He also knew that wasn’t true. He knew that if he asked Caroline to back off, she would, without question.

“I will think about what you have said,” Arthur told him sternly. “But I must be going.”

“Not yet,” Granger said, and pulled Arthur back to him. Then he fucked him one more time, giving him a reason to be happy as he left Granger's home. After Arthur left, Granger washed himself and then went upstairs to try and get some sleep. It was a commodity a captain could rarely enjoy.

“George!” Caroline Granger exclaimed as she rushed to greet her husband. “I am so sorry I could not return yesterday. It is so good to see you.” Her greeting wasn't nearly as effusive as the hug she gave him, and the kiss after that.

“All that matters is that you are here now,” he said diplomatically. The nurses came in after that, carrying his children. Will was old enough now to recognize him, so Granger got down on the floor with him and played around, making the boy laugh. Fatherhood was truly wondrous. Then he held his daughter, smiling down at her pretty blue eyes. She would be a beauty when she was older, he predicted to himself.

But nurses seemed to think that fathers in glittering uniforms had little time or use for their offspring, and they bundled the children off to their nursery, much to Granger's disappointment. He almost made to protest, but their argument that the children's diapers were in need of a change would be one he would have a hard time overruling.

“I do hope you like the house,” Caroline said nervously.

“It is as exquisite as you are,” Granger said. “You have done a magnificent job.”

“You are such a sweet talker,” Caroline teased. He held out his hand and she took it, then he led her up to their bedroom. As soon as they were inside and the door was closed, Granger pulled her to him and kissed her again. He stopped the kiss, and then, as if their lives depended on speed, they began to tear off their clothes, tossing them haphazardly around the room in their desire to be naked together.

He led her to the bed and explored her with his fingers, then with his mouth. Her sighs and moans told him he remembered her body and what excited her. Then he moved up and was on her. His hard cock found its way inside of her, seemingly on its own, while her soft body conformed to his, blending in as if they were meant to be one. He varied his movements, his angles, and his pace; doing everything he could to maximize her pleasure. So focused was he on her enjoyment, he was almost surprised when her orgasm came and subsequently triggered his own.

“You make my body do things I never dreamed it could,” Caroline said as she gazed up at her husband, watching him panting from his exertions. Granger blushed at that, and it made her giggle. He made to move off of her but she stopped him. “No, stay here. I want you inside of me,” she said. They lay there, kissing, until Granger recharged and made love to her yet again.

Finally exhausted, he collapsed onto the bed and she snuggled up to him. “I love you so much, George.”

“I love you too,” he said. They basked in the afterglow until it gradually faded away. “Arthur came to see me yesterday.”

“Indeed? Was he looking to satisfy you in my absence?” she teased.

“Of course he was,” Granger teased. “But that is nothing new with him.” He paused and pondered how strange it was to have his wife refer to him having sex with other men. “He wanted me to warn you to stop digging about Captain Travers' source of influence.”

“How interesting. It is a most intriguing quest,” she said. “There are many blockades in my way. Did you promise him that I would leave it alone?”

“Will you?” he asked.

“If you ask me to,” she said, just as he expected she would. “I have sensed a discomfort about it, and noticed that I have been getting some irritated looks at Court, so I have been very circumscribed about trying to find out.”

“What have you discovered?” he asked.

“It seems there was an encounter of some sort. I don't know what it was, or who was involved. After that encounter, a few men conveniently opted to serve overseas in India, and the matter appeared to drop.”

“Was Major Jardines one of the men?” Granger asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Captain Travers was in London when the encounter happened, so I don't know if he was involved in that or not, and if he was, if that's where his influence stems from.”

“It is not important enough to have you risk your standing and happiness to find out,” Granger said. “I would like you to drop it.”

“For you, I will, gladly. But it will remain a curiosity,” she said. “In the meantime, you must tell me of your adventures so I am better prepared to answer the barrage of questions I will no doubt receive.”

Granger told her everything, from his initial encounter with the Floreal to his capture of the merchantman and his return to London. “So you have made us richer still?” she asked, smiling. “I would gladly trade it all to keep you here.”

“And if I were here, you would long for me to be away at sea,” he joked, and then returned to his serious tone. “You must not reveal anything about the Portuguese officials in Madeira,” he admonished. “I am sworn to silence, and should not have told even you.”

“But you love me enough to break that rule?” she asked.

“I do,” he said. “And I trust you completely.” He found that he meant both of those statements.

“This will make things more difficult for you,” she said sagely.

“I do not understand?” he asked, confused.

“The discovery of malfeasance in Funchal made your capture of the merchantman a function of solving the crime,” she said. “Without that knowledge, it will appear that you disobeyed orders merely to go and capture a fat prize.”

He stared at her, aghast. He knew she was right. “So my achievements will only serve to damage my reputation,” he said sadly.

“In the short term, that is true. In the long term, the truth will come out,” she said. “Unfortunately, when it does come out, unless it creates a firestorm, no one will remember to link you to it.”

“So what must I do?” Granger asked his wife, putting himself in her hands. To him, he was abjectly surrendering to his political powerhouse of a wife. To her, he was merely acknowledging the reality of the situation.

“You must rely on me to create a firestorm,” she said with a smile.