Master and Commander - 29. Chapter 29

April 1795

The winds had turned foul, forcing them to sail close-hauled all the way back to St. Eustacius, so what should have been a day in transit ended up taking two days. Granger stood on his deck watching the sun climb into the sky as he led his little fleet into the already crowded anchorage. He smiled at the sight of men lining the rails on the ships of war at anchor, staring at Intrepid and her prizes, wondering at the story behind their capture. Even more exciting was the sight of the ship's officers doing the same thing, eschewing standard British stoicism to blatantly stare.

“We're certainly attracting attention sir,” Calvert said as he stood next to Granger.

“That we are,” Granger replied, smiling at his friend, his lover, and his first lieutenant all wrapped up in one person. The last few days had been euphoric. Successful completion of a mission followed up by round after round of magnificent sex, and of just getting reacquainted with each other.

Granger scanned the quarterdeck proudly. They were all in their good dress uniforms for this triumphal entry into St. Eustacius, and the gold lace seemed to glimmer off them to create a halo effect. “Signal from flag sir,” Lennox said efficiently. “Flag to Intrepid. Captain to repair on board.”

“Very well,” Granger said. “Call away my gig. Signal Lieutenant Humphreys that I'll be picking him up on the way.” They'd been expecting this summons, so swaying out and lowering the gig was accomplished in rapid time. He guided Intrepid to a spot near the flagship, neatly turned her into the wind, and then let the anchor go. “You have the ship Mr. Calvert,” he said formally, then descended into his gig.

Humphreys had picked a gem of a brig, the Mouche. She was armed with ten guns, six-pounders, and built for speed, the perfect ship for the packet service, for delivering fleet mail, or for ferreting out pirates. Fitzwilliam was in the older brig, designed for cargo. They'd been fortunate to find her still loaded with several casks and bottles of wine from France, a cargo which would probably be worth more than the brig itself. Granger's gig hooked on to the Mouche only long enough to let Humphreys hop into her. With Mouche's low freeboard, it was an easy leap for him.

“Good to see you Mr. Humphreys,” Granger said cheerfully.

“Good to see you too sir,” he said, equally cheerful.

“So how is command?” Granger asked.

“It is heaven, sir,” Humphreys said, making Granger laugh. He saw Jeffers grinning as he guided the boat.

“I felt much the same way when I first commanded a ship,” Granger said indulgently, sharing his lieutenant’s joy. Their conversation was cut short by their arrival at the Boyne. Granger leaped out of the boat and grabbed on to her main chains, then hauled himself up to the entry port, conveniently avoiding getting too wet.

“Welcome Commander,” Captain Gray said. Granger was singularly honored to be greeted by him and not just a lieutenant or midshipman.

“Thank you sir,” Granger said. Gray led him back immediately, with Humphreys following along. He escorted the two of them into Jervis’ huge stern cabin. Granger couldn't help but smile at how visibly nervous Humphreys was; Jervis was well-known for conducting unpleasant interviews with junior officers.

“Welcome back Granger,” Jervis said. “That was fast. I see you brought a few prizes with you, along with an officer I did not send for.”

“I must beg your pardon on that account, Sir John. Lieutenant Humphreys is my first lieutenant, and knowing that you dislike delays, I brought him with me as I knew you would want to meet him and hear his account of the action first-hand,” Granger said calmly. He watched Humphreys mimic his mood and demeanor and smiled internally. Is not imitation the highest form of flattery?

“So you say. Well let's hear your report,” the admiral growled.

Granger described their approach to St. Martin, their plan to storm the battery and burn or seize the ships at anchor, none of which was unique to the Royal Navy. Still, a successful operation, where all the luck falls into place, is a rare event, and this one had been remarkably lucky. “Lieutenant Humphreys commanded the force that stormed the battery sir,” Granger concluded. “I'd like him to explain to you what happened.” Jervis nodded dourly and looked at Humphreys.

“Taking the fort was easy, Sir John,” Humphreys said nervously. “They'd left the gate open, and there were only ten men on duty.”

“Then what happened?” Jervis asked, picking up on the fact that this was but the beginning.

“The reason for that, sir, was that there was a French ship of the line anchored in the port. We later learned she was a 64. We knew we'd surprised them completely, so I ordered the men to fire up the furnace to heat shot. My master's mate, Wilson, knew how to operate such a device, and we were able to open fire on the French ship within the hour. She caught fire after the third or fourth shot. After the sixth shot hit her, she cut her cable, and then she drifted onto the rocks below the fort and exploded,” Humphreys said. “After that, we put our efforts into defending the fort. The French charged us three times, and each time we repulsed them. I estimate they incurred casualties of some 50 men dead or wounded. Right before the fourth charge, they called off their assault.” Humphreys turned to Granger then, to continue the story.

“I anchored Intrepid next to the town sir,” Granger said. “The French came out to parley and I dictated terms, which they ultimately agreed to. They allowed our men to render the fort useless, at least for the time being. Mr. Humphreys and his men blew the trunnions off the guns then fired the magazine, blowing up the whole structure. They were then allowed to march down to rejoin the ship, and we took the two brigs with us. In exchange, I agreed not to level their fair town and burn all the fishing craft.”

“And they agreed to that?” Jervis asked.

“After I put a ball into their government house sir,” Granger said with a grin. Jervis smiled at that, and then laughed.

“I suspect that would convince them,” he said. “What of these prizes?”

“One brig is a merchant from France, still filled with her cargo. Wine, sir,” Granger said. “I took the liberty of bringing a case over with me for your own use. I hope you enjoy it.” Granger did, he'd already stocked his own wine cellar with the other bottles they'd found. The balance of the cargo was in casks.

“That is most thoughtful of you,” Jervis said pleasantly.

“The other brig, Mouche, looks to be designed to carry dispatches or hunt out small craft. She's armed with ten 6-pounders,” Granger said.

“How does she handle?” he asked.

“Lieutenant Humphreys has been in command of her since her capture sir,” Granger said, deferring to him.

“She handles sweetly sir,” Humphreys said. “She probably can keep up with Intrepid in a light sea.” A heavier sea would give a larger ship the advantage.

Jervis got up and walked to his stern windows, gazing out at the harbor, and then turned back to them. Even then he paused before talking. “That was an excellent piece of work gentlemen. Excellent. I shall say so in my dispatches. It's not every day a sloop-of-war manages to destroy a ship-of-the-line. I hope you labored over your reports. They'll undoubtedly end up published in The Naval Chronicle.”

“Thank you sir,” they both mumbled.

“A brig like this Mouche is perfect for fleet duties. I will buy her into the service,” he pronounced, a statement that surprised neither Granger nor Humphreys. “I believe such a brig would be a lieutenant's command.” They said nothing then, just waited. “Since you were so instrumental in her capture, Mr. Humphreys, I will give you that honor.”

That stunned both of them. Granger had hoped Jervis would give command of Mouche to Humphreys, but Humphreys was a relatively new lieutenant. Granted, he'd spent a number of years as a midshipman so he had plenty of naval experience, but admirals usually had a favorite they handed out plumb assignments like this to. In the end, it was Humphreys who broke the silence. “Thank you, Sir John,” Humphreys stammered. “I don't know how to thank you.”

“Bah!” Jervis said. “Do your duty and don't run her aground, that's payment enough.” Granger smiled. “You'll have orders shortly directing you to English Harbor where you can fit her out properly.”

“Aye aye sir!” Humphreys said.

“Who's in command of the merchant brig?” Jervis demanded.

“Mr. Midshipman Fitzwilliam, sir,” Granger said.

“Formerly of the Zenith eh?” Jervis said. “You'll need a midshipman Humphreys. You can take Fitzwilliam aboard in English Harbour after he delivers the prize.”

“Aye aye sir,” Humphreys said. Granger stifled his grin at the thought of Humphreys and Fitzwilliam together, the only real officers on the brig.

“You can sail in concert with them Granger,” Jervis said. Granger tensed up, wondering what was next for him. “I'm sending you back to Antigua. I have been made aware that there is a diplomatic mission that I must dispatch a ship to handle. You will receive your orders for that assignment when you arrive there, but I can tell you that when the mission is done you should end up back in England.”

“Aye aye sir!” Granger said smiling widely. An opportunity to put things right with Caroline and to see his children. “Thank you sir. There is one more thing.”

“Indeed?” Jervis asked, and Granger was mindful that it was unwise to waste the admiral's time.

“I'll need a new first lieutenant. Mr. Calvert has recovered from his wounds, and I would like to retain him in that capacity, with your permission.”

Jervis eyed him carefully. What did he know? He was well-connected politically. “Arrange it as you see fit,” he said simply. Both men saluted and headed back to Granger's gig.

“So how does it feel to have your own ship?” Granger asked as soon as they'd cleared the Boyne.

“Marvelous. Just marvelous sir. I can't thank you enough. You're the one that made this possible,” Humphreys said, positively gushing.

“Perhaps I did make it possible, but you made it a reality. I just spotted a talented young man and encouraged him. Now I have to race you to see who makes the Captain's List first,” Granger joked.

“If I'm not mistaken sir, that will happen when you return to England,” Humphreys said. Granger just stared at him, absolutely flummoxed.

“You're speaking nonsense,” Granger finally said.

“So you say, sir,” Humphreys said, smiling. “You have a solid, undeniable string of successes. Even before we sailed out here, your name was becoming commonly known. The mob won't stand for anything else.” The gig hooked on to Mouche, surprising both of them. Humphreys spryly hopped out of the gig and then Granger was on his own, able to process Humphreys’ words.

Surely the man was mad? Granger wasn't even 20 years old yet, although he would reach that age in January. Few men had reached post rank by that age. Nelson, but he was a genius. Keppel, but that was ages ago. No, it simply couldn't be. He'd have another two or three years before that happened, at least. His gig hooked on to Intrepid and he climbed her side, pushing Humphreys’ words to the back of his head and focusing on the present.

“Did your interview go well sir?” Calvert asked, grinning.

“Sir John was angered that we did not capture the French ship of the line,” Granger said deadpan to him, while Carslake eavesdropped shamelessly. They stared at him, stunned and angered, until they saw Granger grin slightly and realized he was teasing. “He was most effusive in his praise, and we have news, all of it good.”

“Indeed sir?” Calvert asked curiously.

“We are to sail to English Harbour and pick up dispatches. We are to embark on a diplomatic mission of sorts, and then return to England when that is completed.” That got a huge grin from all of them.

“We are losing Lieutenant Humphreys though,” Granger said, feigning sadness. “He's being given command of the Mouche.” Now they were positively giddy, happy for their friend Humphreys, and happy because the government, when they bought Mouche into the service, would pay top dollar. And that meant more prize money for all of them. “He is to take Fitzwilliam with him as his midshipman.”

“That is fantastic news sir!” Calvert said. It was so refreshing to see him happy for Humphreys when the command could easily have gone to him.

“It seems we have a vacancy for a first lieutenant, Mr. Calvert,” Granger said, unable to stop his grin from forming. “I have requested that you be given that position, and Sir John Jervis has approved that request, as long as you are willing to serve.”

“Aye aye sir,” Calvert said, positively beaming. In the end, he'd gotten what he wanted too.

Granger paced the deck of the Intrepid, waiting for dawn to erupt. They were outside of English Harbour, just waiting until daylight to work in. The seas were calm and there was only a light breeze, perfect weather, so there was no great need to risk navigating into harbor at night.

Humphreys’ parting words had troubled and haunted Granger’s peace of mind. He knew that naval officers were what some would call celebrities, and knew that the people followed the careers of their favorite naval officers with special notice. He also knew that some developed an almost unhealthy loyalty to their chosen officer. It was much the same as it was for a prize boxer, or a famous actress. Yet he'd never contemplated that he'd be one of them, that he'd have popular acclaim, followers, and fans. Humphreys was probably wrong. There was no reason for him to develop a following when there were officers like Jervis, Nelson, Elphinstone, and Sidney Smith out there. Was it possible, nonetheless? And if it was, was he glad?

Granger paused to consider that as he turned to pace in the other direction. Popularity was a fleeting thing. The thought of having his carriage mobbed by people, or being accosted by them when he went about town, was most decidedly unpleasant. And what of Caroline? If he did achieve that level of fame, would she be glad, or would she be irritated? He put that aside, and to prevent it from popping back into his head, he focused on the other matter that Humphreys mentioned.

Post rank, being appointed a post captain, was the ultimate goal of every young officer. Once a man achieved post rank, his promotion to admiral was almost assured as long as he outlived the other captains and admirals on the list above him and didn't do something incredibly dishonorable. Granger was not naïve. He knew that his family was influential, very influential. That's why he was able to gain command of the Intrepid in the first place. He expected that he'd reach post rank at an early age, probably before he was 25. He had marked successes to justify it, and he'd garner more during the coming years. But now, when he was just 19? It was almost unheard of.

He rattled the idea around in his mind, thinking of what it would mean if it happened. He'd be posted to a new ship, he'd have to leave Intrepid, and he loved his little ship. Leaving her would tear at him like losing a lover. But he'd probably get a frigate. A frigate! The wolf of the seas! He felt guilty and even looked around to see if the others could tell the vain and unrealistic dreams he was pondering. He thought of his first ship, Barracuda, and what a beautiful ship she was. Faster than anything on the seas except maybe Intrepid and her ilk, and strong enough to tackle anything but a ship of the line, although that had happened as well in unique circumstances.

He would be hated and reviled around the service. He chided himself roundly. He'd had these same fears when he'd been appointed lieutenant, when he'd been promoted to Commander, and none of it had come true. His friends were still his friends, and his enemies would have hated him anyway.

“Sir, it's light enough to proceed, begging your pardon,” Calvert said respectfully. The man was amazing. They could fuck in the morning, be that intimate, yet he always remembered to treat Granger with the courtesy due a captain.

“Square away and take us in, Mr. Calvert,” Granger said. He continued brooding until the sight of English Harbour distracted him. There were always ships here, even when the fleet was out. Off near the dockyard was a frigate, a 32 gun ship, her lines so graceful and her masts swept so perfectly she almost looked as if she could fly.

He felt Calvert next to him. “Maybe that's your next command sir.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Granger snapped, and got even more irritated when his tone of voice didn't faze Calvert. Granger had half a mind to rip him up and down just to wipe that stupid grin off his face, but then he realized he could never do that, never intentionally hurt Calvert. He felt his anger dissipating, proud of the fact that he hadn't altered his outward expression during his internal tirade. Granger turned his attention to supervising the evolution of anchoring, and looked astern to see her two prizes follow her example.

“Mr. Calvert, you will accompany me to Government House,” Granger said. “Winkler, I'll spend the night ashore, and it is probable that Mr. Calvert will as well, at least after one of the Governor's receptions.” Winkler grinned and nodded, scurrying off to prepare his own trek to Government House with Granger's uniforms and laundry.

Granger turned to Carslake. “Please attend to revictualing,” he said. “You can give the crew leave to go on shore as you see fit.”

“Aye aye sir!” he said.

“I should be here, supervising the stores and the disposition of the prizes,” Calvert whined, but softly so only Granger could hear.

“I want you to meet the Governor,” Granger said firmly, then turned it into a joke. “Try to be more charming with him than you managed with Caroline.”

“I will do my best, sir,” Calvert said with a smile. There was a carriage waiting for them, a nicer one than before, this one painted in that soft shade of yellow that was his grandfather's badge. They clattered up the hill to the house and that made Granger recall his first trip up here, when he'd first arrived in Antigua. He'd been so nervous, so worried about meeting this man he'd only corresponded with. Now it was like coming home. The carriage deposited them underneath the large portico, while a footman was there to guide them inside.

“George! You're back!” his grandfather said effusively.

“Yes, Grandfather, I am. And I brought a prize loaded with some very good wine. I saved a few bottles for you,” Granger said cheerfully, then remembered his manners. “This is Lieutenant Francis Calvert.” Calvert didn't seem to know whether to bow or salute, and his dilemma made Lammert laugh.

“So you are the famous Lieutenant Calvert?” he said. “When I last heard of you, you were near death, yet unless you are the Messiah, you have recovered from your wounds.”

“Hardly the Messiah, Sir Richard. I am too evil for that, I fear,” Calvert said, pouring on the charm. He saw his grandfather take in Calvert's devastatingly good looks. When linked with his smile, it was overpowering.

“If you are evil, you are indeed in good company,” Sir Richard said. Pierce was there now, and it was funny to see him ogling Calvert. Granger thought about how ridiculous this was, him feeling glad that his grandfather and his grandfather's lover were lusting after his man. “Let's have some refreshments while you tell me of your recent exploits.”

They sat on the veranda and drank some sort of concoction that was quite good, and Granger told his grandfather about his recent exploits. There was something strange, something he hadn't experienced the last time. His grandfather was completely relaxed around them, as if he'd guessed their relationship was more than platonic and he reveled in being in their company. Granger didn't quite know why, but it bothered him a little bit, as if he was being forced to share something very intimate without being asked.

He looked at Calvert, at his cheerful smile and his deep laugh, and put his petulant nature aside. There was no reason not to feel happy, to feel good. “I'm very proud of you George,” his grandfather said. “I am hosting a reception tonight. I will invite your Mr. Humphreys.”

“I think he will enjoy that,” Granger said.

“You should show Mr. Calvert the extravagant spa I built for you. I suspect you would enjoy washing the salt off. As much as I love the sea, getting home and bathing in fresh waters was always one of my favorite luxuries.”

“That's a wonderful idea,” Granger said. So even though it was the middle of the day, Granger led Calvert up to his room, stripped off their clothes, and took him down to the pool.

“Is this paradise?” Calvert asked.

“For me it is,” Granger said, pulling Calvert to him and kissing him deeply. They entered the pool with the fresh water in it, and just wallowed together, touching each other, bonding in that way that lovers do, until they were so fired up they had to have a release. Granger led Calvert over to the soap tub and sunk in carefully, letting the hot water permeate all his parts. Then he mounted Calvert, taking him inside, and rode him like a horse until they both exploded. After he came, he looked up and saw Pierce peeking through the glass, watching them. He was only partially visible, clearly he thought he was hidden, but Granger could make out his hand as it rapidly stroked his own cock. Let him watch, Granger thought. They were handsome young men, handsome young men in love.

Granger primped in front of the mirror, feeling fully satisfied and very clean. He made himself smile and noticed how that set off his good looks. He'd have to remember to smile more. He saw how men like Calvert used their own grins to great effect. His uniform glimmered, and he reminded himself to do something nice for Winkler. He did such a magnificent job of keeping Granger’s clothes in perfect order. He ran his fingers across the gold lace that accented his coat everywhere, from the lapels and buttonholes to the pockets and cuffs, and then played with the single gold epaulette on his left shoulder, made with gold lace and real bullion, signifying that he was a commander and not a captain. The epaulet was a newer innovation in Royal Navy uniforms. There was a rumor that the uniform was to be redesigned, and that epaulets would permanently replace shoulder boards. The reason was, presumably, that foreigners wore them, and they were having difficulty distinguishing British officers and their ranks. All the gold contrasted perfectly with the dark blue coat, which again contrasted with Granger's white waistcoat, shirt, and breeches. This uniform cost a small fortune, the gold alone would have ensured that, even if one didn't factor in the cost of the best blue broadcloth money could buy along with the silk to line it.

Granger backed up to admire the rest of his body, especially his legs. His calves were muscular, but he would have liked a bit more to fill out his stockings better. Thinking of legs made him think of Travers. He had the sexiest legs in the world. Then Granger felt a twinge of guilt, guilt that comes from loving two men, and not knowing which one he loved more. Winkler brushed off his coat, making sure he was perfect, and then Granger headed downstairs.

He arrived at the reception and ran into Calvert and Humphreys. They were waiting for him, evidently nervous about going in without him. Granger remembered how Sir Evelyn had taken him under his wing when they'd been in these situations, and he smiled as he returned the favor to his own officers.

He found his grandfather talking to a tall man, quite tall, with light brown hair. He was wearing civilian dress, the kind of dress Granger would have expected to see at Court. It was tasteful and expensive. He had a long, hooked nose that made him look imperious, and a receding hairline that left a large lock of hair out front as if it were a figurehead. He was probably about 30 years old or so, and carried himself with the refined yet slightly arrogant air of someone who came from the world of academics. “Ah, here is my grandson now. Commander George Granger, of His Majesty's ship Intrepid. George, this is George Hammond, Minister Plenipotentiary to the United States.”

“A pleasure to meet you Mr. Hammond,” Granger said, bowing slightly.

“The pleasure is mine and mine alone. I was just in London where people were still talking about your exploits in the East. It makes me nervous to seek passage with you sir, lest you chase after a French ship of the line and attempt to give battle.”

Granger laughed. “I must thank you Mr. Hammond, but my reputation is much overstated. In any event, I was not aware I was conducting you somewhere, and I know that means I have not yet been informed. Such an honor would never have slipped my mind.”

“I suspect I was supposed to explain that to you somewhere other than a reception,” he said.

“I must attend to my other guests. I will leave you two to discuss your upcoming voyage,” Sir Richard said diplomatically. Granger led Hammond into his grandfather's study.

“What is it you need me to do?” Granger asked.

“I was in London to consult with Lord Grenville. I am to be relieved of my post later this year, but I needed to return to settle my personal affairs and to prepare for my replacement,” he said. In other words, he was being recalled.

“So you need me to take you to Philadelphia?” Granger asked.

“I do. You may have seen the ship I sailed here on, the frigate near the dockyard? She has been so long without a refit we were lucky to reach Antigua. As she must be docked at once, I requested a different conveyance.”

“Your inconvenience will be my gain,” Granger said cheerfully. “We will try to accommodate you as best we can, but Intrepid is much smaller than a frigate, and you will find your cabin to be quite minuscule.”

“I have found that on a voyage of any length, one's cabin is much less important than one's companions, and on that account I am heartily encouraged,” he said.

“You flatter me too much,” Granger said, and discovered he was actually flirting. “When would you like to depart?”

“At your convenience. If you wish to spend tomorrow in port, readying your ship, I should be glad to leave the day after tomorrow.”

“Then that is what we will do,” Granger said, remembering to light up his smile. “And I promise that on our voyage to Philadelphia I will try and restrain myself from engaging ships of the line in battle.”

“As long as I arrive in one piece, I can hardly complain,” Hammond said. “And now I have kept you from the party for so long you will have missed the arrival of the ladies.” Granger didn't tell him that he had really no interest in flirting with the ladies when he could flirt with the British Ambassador to the Unites States instead.

Granger saw Pierce standing off to the side of the huge veranda, looking carefully to make sure that nothing was amiss, or out of place. Granger decided to tease him. “Mr. Pierce, I have something for you to add to your list of items requiring maintenance.”

“I would be happy to take care of anything you need, sir,” he said. Was that a hint of lust in his voice?

“I noticed that in the bathing area, one of the curtains seems slightly detached, leaving a gap that one could see through,” Granger said. He watched Pierce blush furiously and couldn't help but chuckle, and giggle.

“I'm sorry sir. Please don't say anything to Sir Richard. I'm begging you,” he said, distraught.

“Calm yourself Mr. Pierce. I was only teasing you. I would not dream of telling anyone what I witnessed, any more than I would expect you to reveal what you saw.”

“Thank you sir,” he said, relieved but still blushing.

“One more thing. You may want to remember that this house has large key holes and not all guests are polite enough not to look through them.” Granger said, trying to resist delivering the coup-de-gras, but he couldn't. “You should know that when you reach orgasm, you get a very cute expression on your face. It is adorable.”

“Thank you sir,” Pierce said, flirting now. “Perhaps sometime you can witness it firsthand. And now if you will excuse me, I see we're running low on hors d'oeuvres.” Now it was Granger's turn to be shocked, and to wonder at what was the true nature of Pierce's relationship with his grandfather.

Granger watched as the tastefully decorated barge approached his ship, carrying not just Mr. Hammond, but his grandfather. The old admiral had expressed a desire to see the Intrepid, and Granger was much too proud of her not to show her off. Granger insisted on a clean ship and crew, but they'd worked doubly hard this time to impress their guests.

The boat pulled up alongside and then he saw the rigid form of his grandfather climb up on the deck, his body still able to move with agility when boarding a small warship. As he climbed aboard, the sharp explosion of the first gun went off as Intrepid saluted the Admiral who was boarding her. A full Admiral merited 17 guns. He saw his grandfather smile briefly at the honor. He was followed by Mr. Hammond and another man, a negro, who was evidently his servant. Granger went forward to greet them, and took them on a tour of the ship. When they got to his cabin, Granger showed Hammond his day cabin, once again converted into a bedroom, and Hammond seemed more than happy with it.

“This flush deck, when you have the hatches battened down, must keep her much more seaworthy than a standard sloop,” Lammert observed.

“Well, it reduces the leakage, and along with the more efficient pumps I've purchased for her, we keep her bilge pretty clear,” Granger said. He led his grandfather back up on deck to give Hammond and his servant time to stow his chest and other gear. They reached the quarterdeck and immediately began to pace it together, the other officers wisely staying well clear of them. “Meeting you has been one of the best experiences of my life,” Granger said sincerely.

“I feel the same way,” his grandfather said. “I'm not sure if they'll send you back here, but nothing would please me more.”

“I'm not sure how soon that will be. Intrepid has charted quite a few miles, and she needs a quick refit at the very least,” Granger said.

“Perhaps they will find something bigger for you,” he said mysteriously.

“I cannot believe they will do that,” Granger said. “I'm not quite 20 yet.”

“You are bright and talented, a born leader. That trumps age. Besides, with this latest exploit of yours, the mob will be ready to lynch poor Spencer in the street if he doesn't give you a bigger command,” he said thoughtfully. “Not to mention that both the King and the Prince of Wales are quite fond of you. Did you know that Mrs. Fitzherbert was singularly impressed by how courteous you were to her when she called on Caroline?”

“I was just being polite,” Granger said dismissively. “Besides, the way Mother has been feuding with Lady Jersey, it's important for someone to stay on the Prince's good side.”

Lammert laughed heartily at that. “Your mother has always had a problem curbing her tongue when she had a righteous cause, and she views opposing Lady Jersey as such a challenge. Besides, I think your father encourages her. It brings him closer to the King. There is talk that he may be appointed one of the Gentlemen of His Majesty's bedchamber.”

Granger gasped. That position was one of the highest Court appointments available. “That would certainly be a suitable climax to his years of service to the King,” he said blithely.

His Grandfather seemed to realize that it was time for them to go. “I have delayed you long enough. Godspeed George. Please continue to write to me, I so enjoy your letters,” he said.

“Not as much as I enjoy yours,” Granger said. Then he consciously broke all convention, destroyed the decorum of his quarterdeck, and embraced his grandfather in a big hug. Granger felt it returned enthusiastically, and then, after probably too long, they ended the embrace and Granger escorted him over the side and back into his ornate boat.

“Mr. Calvert, get the ship under way if you please,” he said. Two hours later saw Intrepid bounding out of English Harbour with all plain sail set, surging off to meet the Americans in Philadelphia.