Master and Commander - 27. Chapter 27

April 1795

Granger awoke to feel a hand on his cheek, gently stroking him. His entire body was stiff and sore from sleeping almost doubled over all night. He opened his eyes and looked at the hand and smiled. It was Calvert's.

“Good morning,” Calvert said softly, though not with the weakness he'd shown yesterday.

“Good morning to you,” Granger said, skillfully hiding his hangover, no mean feat.

“You stayed here with me all night,” Calvert said. “You should have just climbed into bed with me.”

“Well aren't you getting all frisky?” Granger teased. “Yesterday you could barely say two words and now you are inviting men into your bed?” Calvert chuckled, and then seemed tired. The door opened and Winkler came in, smiling in an affectionate yet patronizing way.

“Half an hour until dawn sir,” he said. “Your breakfast is ready and I've got your uniform laid out.”

“Thank you Winkler,” Granger said. He couldn't help but think what a good servant Winkler was, and how much he'd grown to depend on the young man. Thirty minutes later found a fed and dressed George Granger on deck, waiting for daylight. The food had eased his hangover considerably, and a glass of hot tea had completed his recovery.

Slowly, just like yesterday, the light brightened, only today there was no fog, only clear skies and rough seas, along with very brisk winds. Granger was happy to be in port where the Intrepid rocked at anchor, a sometimes nauseating bobbing motion, but infinitely more comfortable and safer than how she'd feel if she were outside the harbor.

“Sail ho!” Came the cry from the mainmast.

“Lots of 'em sir,” augmented the foremast lookout. Granger turned his glass toward the sea and saw the ships materialize as dawn broke. Jervis had arrived. There, in the van, was the massive Boyne, wallowing in the heavy seas. Beyond her was the rest of the fleet, ships of the line, frigates, sloops similar to Intrepid, and even a brig or two.

“Sir, Flag to Intrepid: Interrogatory,” Lennox said. Granger smiled. This was Jervis' way of asking him what the fuck he was doing anchored in a Dutch port.

“Make Intrepid to flag, truce with Dutch pending arrival of flag.” Lennox began rattling out flag hoists to the seamen detailed to assist him. Granger saw Fitzwilliam watching him with approval. Lennox was good at signals.

“Flag acknowledges sir,” Lennox said. They watched as the Boyne put herself about, her tall sides square on to Intrepid as she tacked around the breakwater and into the port. Granger left the deck to head below and put on a better uniform. He sighed. No time to dash out his report. As soon as Boyne entered harbor, the signals began to flow.

“Sir, Flag to Intrepid: Captain to repair on board immediately,” Lennox said. Granger's gig was already in the water, so he descended into it as quickly as possible and they shoved off. In a small boat, the waters in the harbor didn't seem so calm, but he made it to the Boyne without getting too wet. His gig latched on and he managed to scramble aboard quickly. He saw a boat heading out from the shore as well, and recognized van den Boss in the stern. Just the thought of him made Granger smile.

Seeing Sir John Jervis erased the smile from his face. “Are you trying to make me the laughingstock of the whole navy Granger?” he boomed. “I bring a whole fleet to capture this island and find you sitting here in your little sloop with the British flag flying from their fortress.” Suddenly Granger could see where Jervis was coming from, and he realized the damage he may have inadvertently done. He forced his mind to think quickly, and politically.

“Yes sir, exactly per your orders sir,” Granger said, forcing himself to speak confidently.

“I did not order you to take St. Eustacius single-handedly!” he yelled.

“I did not take St. Eustacius sir,” Granger answered defiantly. “I merely negotiated a truce pending your arrival.” He saw Jervis looking at him, mulling over what he said. “The Governor was expecting you sir; he thought, and correctly so, that Intrepid was merely the spearhead of your force.”

“He knew we were coming?” Jervis asked.

“Yes sir,” Granger asked. “That's why he wanted a truce. He knows that his island will do better under British protection, and he knows that a battle with us will result in dead and wounded on both sides. My opinion, begging your pardon sir, is that he's been out here on this island for a long time, and he doesn't want it ripped apart over some European War.”

Jervis stared at him, his eyes steely. “When we are at peace Granger, I'm going to make sure someone drafts you to serve in Parliament,” he said, joking.

“I'm not sure you'd be doing me a favor sir,” Granger said with a grin.

“What did you find at St. Martin?” he asked.

“There wasn't much activity in Phillipsburg sir, but there looked to be a number of small craft in Marigot. It's a good bet some of them are rigged out as privateers,” Granger said.

“You didn't flush 'em out?” Jervis asked.

“No sir, they seemed to offer no threat to the fleet,” Granger said, trying to gauge the mood of this temperamental admiral. He decided to take the risk and make a joke. “I had to hurry back here and capture St. Eustacius before you arrived.”

Jervis laughed, his laugh almost as loud as his yell. “Well, I need to get rid of you so you don't end up stealing all the credit, but don't worry, I'll see that you get mentioned prominently in the dispatches.”

“Thank you sir,” Granger said.

“I'll send orders over to you shortly. You can return your report on your activities by the same boat. I want you to go back to St. Martin and clean out that pirate's nest.”

“Aye aye sir,” Granger said. He wondered how, exactly, he was going to do that. Marigot had a large fort guarding the harbor, Fort St. Louis, perched high on a mountain overlooking the whole bay. He pushed that to the back of his mind. He'd have time to think about that later, and Jervis would certainly not be willing to tolerate any idiotic questions.

Jervis' flag lieutenant entered the cabin nervously. “Sir John, there is a Dutchman here requesting an audience.” Granger smiled internally. It was not so very long ago that he'd been a flag lieutenant, although he had served Lord Hood. He decided that being a flag lieutenant under Jervis would be a lot less pleasant.

“That would be Major van den Boss, Sir John,” Granger said. “He is an aide to the governor.”

“You'd think the governor himself would come out to greet us,” Jervis growled.

“Begging your pardon sir,” Granger said, “but the governor is rather old. I don't think his frail form can handle boat trips, especially in such seas.” Jervis looked at him sharply, then nodded, somewhat mollified.

“Send him in,” Jervis said to his flag lieutenant, and then turned to Granger. “You stay here to do the introductions.

“Aye aye sir,” Granger said. Van den Boss appeared quickly, as if he'd been right outside the cabin.

“Allow me to present Major van den Boss,” Granger said politely. “Major, this is Vice Admiral Sir John Jervis.” The two men engaged in pleasantries, until Jervis was finally ready to get down to business.

“Granger, you can get back to your ship and prepare to sail,” Jervis said. “Your orders will be sent over shortly.”

“Aye aye sir,” Granger said. Then he turned to van den Boss. “It was a pleasure to meet you Major.”

“A pleasure for me as well,” he said, with a smile and that twinkling of his eyes that said so much more. Granger braved the wet boat ride back and immediately went below to draft his report, making it clear that he'd acted on Jervis' instructions and minimizing his role in the whole thing. It was much better to keep Jervis on his good side than to garner some extra fame by claiming the capture of St. Eustacius single-handedly. He'd just finished the report and had made a copy for himself when Lennox knocked and entered.

“Sir, there's a boat from the flagship with orders for you,” he said. Granger followed him up on deck and took the orders from a spruce looking midshipman, gave him his report in exchange, and headed below to read his instructions. He tore open the package and read the orders, which were just as Jervis said. He was to go to Marigot and neutralize any privateers there, and then report to Jervis either at St. Eustacius or Antigua.

Granger headed up on deck and surveyed the harbor before him. It was jammed full of British warships. The nice anchorage van den Boss had given him was now a curse. He'd have to negotiate his way through the entire fleet before reaching the open sea. “Mr. Humphreys, we have orders to sail at once. Call all hands. We'll have to look alive if we're to maneuver among these ships.”

“Aye aye sir,” he said, and ordered the bosun to roust the men.

“Mr. Lennox! Signal Intrepid to Flag: Permission to proceed,” Granger ordered.

Lennox raced to send the signal up and they got a quick response. Everything about Jervis was quick and efficient. “Flag to Intrepid: Permission granted.”

Intrepid hoisted her anchor and shook out her mains, giving her plenty of speed in this wind. Granger was lucky that the same wind that had forced Boyne to tack into harbor blew off his quarter, making at least that part easy. Intrepid surged ahead, dodging past a massive 74 and then tacking slightly to avoid a frigate. They got to Boyne and had to go about right astern of her. Granger looked up to see Jervis watching him. He took off his hat, out of respect, and saw Jervis return the salute. Then he maneuvered Intrepid about perfectly, setting her on a course to leave St. Eustacius behind. Granger breathed a sigh of relief. Jervis was notorious for rooting officers out of the service who were inefficient or ineffective. Escaping without providing Jervis with reason to think he was one of those was worth a sigh.

Granger paced his quarterdeck deep in thought. He hadn't told Humphreys about their orders yet, because he had no inkling of how to implement them. Then his internal sense of justice asserted itself. When he'd faced a similar problem with Port Louis in Ile de France, he'd talked to Calvert about it and Calvert's comments provided him with the beginnings of his plan. Why would he not do the same for Humphreys? He turned to the binnacle and saw Humphreys standing there. He was a superb first lieutenant. Granger had been lucky he'd failed that initial exam for lieutenant and ended up on board.

“Mr. Humphreys, walk with me,” Granger said.

“With pleasure sir,” Humphreys said pleasantly.

“We are tasked with destroying the privateers in Marigot,” he said.

“That would be easy but for the fort,” Humphreys said, stating the obvious. Only just like with Calvert's suggestion, the obvious was the key to the solution.

“Excellent point Mr. Humphreys. So we shall have to neutralize the fort,” Granger observed. Humphreys looked at him and grinned. “I will be below. Tonight, at dinner, I'll fill the officers in on our plan.”

“Our plan sir?” Humphreys asked.

“I'll flesh it out a bit,” Granger said, then headed below. He went in to check on Calvert and found Lennox there with him.

“I'm sorry sir,” Lennox said, getting up to leave. “I was off-watch and wanted to check on Mr. Calvert.”

“That is quite alright Mr. Lennox. You are welcome to visit him as often as he likes,” Granger said indulgently. He looked down at Calvert, who was smiling. “And how are you today?”

“Much better sir,” he said, his voice already stronger. “Food has helped.”

“Well, I'm throwing a dinner party tonight, so burnish your appetite,” Granger said. Lennox, correctly sensing that his presence was no longer welcome, scurried out of the cabin.

“You scare away my friends,” Calvert said playfully.

“I want you to myself,” Granger said, and leaned down to kiss him. For the first time in a long time, Calvert actually returned his kiss enthusiastically. His strength was coming back quickly. Then Granger curbed his libido and focused on the business at hand. He laid out his whole plan to Calvert, using him as a sounding board. They'd only disagreed on one point, but on that point Granger was not going to negotiate. He wanted be the one who led the men up to destroy the fort.

“George, you will be needed here. What if you're up on that mountain, blowing up the fort and the French governor wants to parley? Or what if there's a larger ship in port that we don't know about?” Granger felt his brows narrow, felt the irritation boil up at being contradicted. Then he calmed himself. He'd been dealing with Jervis for too long, evidently, and his temper was rubbing off.

“Yet that is where the action will be,” Granger said, almost a whine, and despised himself for such an idiotic statement.

Calvert knew him and smiled, not in a taunting way, but in a soothing way. “Let me get my strength back and I'll show you plenty of action.” Granger couldn't help but smile back at that. “Do you think Humphreys has the ability to lead a party of men up and seize the fort?”

Granger saw where he was going but let himself be led into the trap. “I do.”

“Then don't you think he'll see it as a lack of confidence in him if you don't let him command? How is he supposed to gain promotion if he cannot prove himself?” Calvert's points were spot on.

“There are times when it is not pleasant to have you talking,” Granger said, pretending to grouse. “You are right. Thank you for pointing things out to me and making them clear.” Another kiss, a passionate one, and a smile from both of them. Calvert was recovering quickly.

That evening, as they sat around enjoying one of Lefavre's wonderful meals, Granger laid out his plan. “Marigot has become a haven for privateers, and we are tasked with flushing them out. The only impediment to that is the fort, Fort St. Louis.”

“That's a formidable impediment sir,” Barney said. “Our guns won't reach that high.”

“Then we'll have to go ashore and destroy them,” he said. “And that is my plan. Mr. Humphreys will lead a group of 30 men and marines, with Mr. Wilson, Mr. Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Cavendish to help.” Granger noted the disappointment on the faces of those who weren't going, especially Carslake and Lennox. “You will land at night and scale the hill, and then attack the fort. After you spike the guns and blow the magazine, you will escape back to your boats. Meanwhile, once the fort has been destroyed, I will bring Intrepid into port to either destroy the shipping there or accept their surrender.”

“We should be at Marigot tomorrow afternoon, sir,” Humphreys said. “We should bear off so they don't know we're about.”

“Quite right, Mr. Humphreys,” Granger said.

“Is that wise sir?” Carslake asked. “We won't know if there are other ships in harbor. What if we run into a ship of the line?”

“I think the need for surprise outweighs the risk. There were no ships in port a few days ago. But I take your point, and it is a good one,” Granger said. “After the landing party departs, we'll send off the gig to scout out the harbor.”

After dinner, as had become custom, Cavendish played for them. Granger and Lennox joined in for a few songs, just for fun, and then it was time to go up on deck and make sure Intrepid stayed well away from St. Martin. Humphreys could handle that.

Granger headed to his sleeping cabin and Winkler helped rid him of his clothes, and then left him standing there naked, with trousers on the chair next to his cot if he needed them. Granger was about to put them on when he heard a knocking sound. He looked over to the partition and saw it open slightly.

“You may come in Mr. Humphreys,” Granger said. Humphreys opened the door and climbed through. He stopped and stared at Granger and his nakedness.

“I'm sorry to bother you sir,” he said, swallowing hard. His pants began tenting immediately, making Granger chuckle.

“You are not bothering me at all,” Granger said, as he motioned him to sit on the bed next to him.

“I just wanted to thank you for letting me lead the landing party. I appreciate the confidence and trust you're placing in me,” he said sincerely. Granger felt like a complete hypocrite, having only come to that decision after Calvert explained things to him. Still, it had been his decision.

“I have complete confidence in you. I always have,” Granger said sincerely. He was trying to focus on their conversation, but he couldn't. His hormones were surging and he was horny. The blow job van den Boss had given him was nice, but he needed to be fucked. “I can think of a way for you to make it up to me.”

Humphreys grinned shyly and Granger moved in, kissing him. He felt the contact flow through the lieutenant's body like electricity. In no time at all, Humphreys was in him, and worked him long and hard to a magnificent orgasm. “Did I make it up to you sir?” he asked when they were spent. He'd performed amazingly well and was proud of it.

“If you take that fort like you took my ass, we are assured a victory,” Granger teased. They laughed for a bit, then Humphreys wandered back to his cabin and Granger put on his trousers and headed to see Calvert.

Calvert was lying there awake, a strange expression on his face. It seemed to be part sadness, part resignation. “Good evening,” Granger said cheerfully.

“Good evening,” Calvert said. Granger could tell that his cheerfulness was faked.

“You are recovering quickly! Your voice has almost recovered its strength,” Granger said.

“You had a visitor,” he said, letting out the thing that was bothering him.

Granger bit back his anger and irritation. Calvert had no business interfering with whom he slept with. “I did.”

“I wish it could have been me,” he said. “It seems like I've been wounded for so long, and incapable of doing anything.” Then Granger got it. This wasn't about jealousy. It was sadness about not being able to satisfy his lover. Or about experiencing the magic they contrived when they made love.

Granger pushed Calvert over and climbed into his cot with him. He lay on his side facing Calvert, draping his leg over Calvert's, stroking Calvert's chest affectionately, and making sure his body was next to Calvert's so he could feel his warmth and affection. “Nothing would make me happier than to be in bed with you and to feel you inside me again,” Granger cooed seductively in his ear. “It will happen soon, very soon. In the meantime, do not be mad at me for satisfying my urges.”

Calvert smiled. “I'm not mad at you. I just wish it were me. I don't own your body George. You are free to be with whomever you want. I'm just hoping that when I'm up and about, you choose me.”

“I would always choose you,” Granger said, and kissed him lovingly.

“I want to ask you about something,” Calvert said, changing the subject and getting a worried look on his face.

“You can ask me anything,” Granger said.

“Freemantle said that Caroline, your wife, had me transferred. Is that true?” he asked.

Granger sighed. “It seems that is the case.” He saw Calvert's face flush with anger. “And it is our fault.”

“How is it our fault?” Calvert asked, clearly angry, very angry.

“Well, mostly my fault,” Granger said. “We have to learn to handle this differently when we are in England.”

“What must we do?” he asked.

“Well, first of all, when I am ashore, I need to spend time with Caroline and my family and make them the center of my life to the degree that I can, at least when I'm only ashore for a short period of time. This time I failed at that miserably. I spent time with you, with friends, at Court, at Carlton House, and totally neglected her,” Granger said sadly. “She is a woman who needs attention, and she feels neglected.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Calvert asked. Granger almost got mad at his self-absorption, but understood that he was just trying to figure out what he had done wrong.

“Well, when you did come ashore, you and I went off and spent time all by ourselves.” Granger held his hand up to stop Calvert. “I know this is my fault, that I was being selfish in wanting you to be with me, but it was a mistake. From her perspective, you have me for months at a time, and then when I come home, you still have me. It must have been maddening for her.”

“I can see her point,” he said grudgingly.

“And you didn't court her like you need to,” Granger said, throwing down the other shoe.

“Court her?” he asked.

“Yes. You didn't pay attention to her, make her feel special, make her feel attractive. She doesn't want you to fuck her, but she wants to think that you want to. If you want her to like you, you have to work at it,” Granger said.

“What if I don't want her to like me?” Calvert asked, clearly annoyed.

“Then she will cause you problems, and there will be little I can do about it. I cannot stop her from playing political games when I'm at sea, now can I? She is building herself into an influential powerhouse. That can be good, if you're her friend, or bad, if you're her enemy,” Granger said.

“She won't listen to you?” he asked.

“She will humor me, but then do what she wants. She will never hurt me, our destinies, our families are linked. Everything she does will be to advance my career and our position in society.”

“It sounds so mercenary,” Calvert said.

“It is not mercenary, it is how things work,” Granger snapped. Calvert was really taxing his control during this conversation. He calmed himself down and remembered that Calvert came from a different world. He came from the gentry, people who never asked for anything from their government. Aristocrats like Granger were used to relying on and granting favors. They never hesitated to ask for anything. “You need to understand how the government, how the navy functions. Patronage and influence are key. Were it not for them, I would not be commanding this ship at 19 years of age.”

“Yes you would,” Calvert said smiling. “Anyone can see you're a born leader, that you're a brilliant strategist and tactician. The men under you would follow you anywhere.”

“What about the men on top of me?” Granger joked. “You should use that same charm on Caroline. It will make both of our lives easier.”

“I know,” he said resignedly. “I guess I did get off on the wrong foot with her.”

“When you are well, you will be posted to another ship and we'll be separated again,” Granger said. “I want to make sure that once that happens, there are people in London watching out for your best interests.”

“I don't want to go anywhere else,” he said. “I want to stay right here.”

“Humphreys may not be willing to give up his job,” Granger joked.

“Then when it comes time for someone to be promoted, make sure it is him and not me,” Calvert said sincerely. “I know what I want. I want to be with you, here or wherever you go.”

“Don't you want your own ship?” Granger asked. It had been his overriding goal, the thing he'd focused on since his first month as a midshipman.

“No. I want to be here with you. Period. I've got plenty of money; you've made me a rich man. When we're together, when we're a team, I'm happier than I've ever been,” he said earnestly.

“Well, there's more to this than what you want,” Granger said. In truth, Calvert's devotion was a little scary. While Granger was flattered, he wasn't sure he wanted that kind of loyalty. That kind of loyalty required the same degree of loyalty in return. “You are a superb officer. England needs her best men now. You may have to sacrifice what you want for the good of King and Country.”

“You overestimate me,” Calvert argued.

“No, you underestimate yourself. You should see the confidence and satisfaction on Humphreys' face. That comes from my trust in him, from giving him that mission. I wouldn't have done that were it not for your counsel,” Granger said.

“You would have gotten there in the end,” Calvert said.

“And look at how the other men look up to you. The midshipmen worship you. Lennox spends all his spare time with you. You are a born leader. It would be a crime for you to subordinate that just so we can be together,” Granger said.

“You don't want me around?” he asked, pretending to joke, but failing.

“That's an idiotic thing to say. Of course I want you around. But I also want you to share your talents,” Granger said.

“You want me to sleep with other people?” Calvert asked playfully.

“Idiot,” Granger said with a smile, and then snuggled up to him and they both drifted off to sleep. Together.