The Wardroom - 2. Chapter 2

May, 1793

“How are you feeling today?” the Countess of Bridgemont asked her youngest son.

“I'm feeling much better Mother,” he replied. “My head only hurts a little bit, and I'm not taking laudanum any more. I need to report in at the Admiralty.”

His mother frowned. “George, you need to wait a little longer, until you are fully healed.”

“I am fully healed,” Granger whined. “Well, pretty much, anyway.” He smiled at his mother. They'd become much closer over the past few weeks of his convalescence, her maternal instincts overriding her proud and reserved manner.

“Another week or two will be best,” she said firmly. “Your father wanted me to ask you if you'd be up to attending to the King today. He plans to go to Court in an hour.”

Granger thought about that. He'd been cooped up inside since he'd been carried in on a stretcher, looking more dead than alive. The idea of leaving the house was marvelous, especially with the beautiful May weather, but the strain and effort it demanded was a bit daunting. Laziness was not one of Granger's faults though, so he opted to go. “I would be happy to go with him. I had best make myself presentable.” She nodded, dismissing him.

He went up to his room while Winkler prepared a bath for him. Granger knew that bathing daily, or every other day, was considered bizarre, but he liked feeling clean. Somehow, being back on land made that even more important. Neither of his parents or his brother indulged in such a practice, but they humored him.

In precisely one hour, George Granger met his father in the entry foyer of their home. The Earl eyed his youngest son with pride. He was tall and slim, with his blond hair arranged perfectly, and a bandage above his left eye to hide the scar. The blue coat of his uniform complimented his blue eyes. He truly was a handsome young man. “Do I pass muster?” Granger joked.

“You turn out quite well George,” the Earl said. They climbed into the carriage and seated themselves for the brief ride to St. James Palace. “You realize that by going here, you're committing yourself to a trip to Carlton House?”

Granger smiled. “That's not such a trauma for me as it would be for you Father. I like the Prince of Wales.”

“One is not required to like one's sovereign, one is required to be loyal to him,” the Earl said sternly.

“Quite so Father. But if one likes him, that's a nice bonus, don't you think?” Granger asked. He was being quite cheeky, but the grin on his father's face told him it was alright. Since he'd come back wounded, their relationship had changed markedly. Granger had allowed himself to relax around his imperious father, to tease and joke with him, while the Earl had responded more warmly than Granger would have expected.

They arrived at St. James Palace and entered the glittering room. As always, there was a Chamberlain to announce them. “The Right Honorable Earl of Bridgemont, the Honorable George Granger!” he cried. And as always, everyone pretended not to notice. His father headed straight for the throne.

Both men bowed deeply to their sovereign, then moved closer to him and bowed again. King George III eyed them carefully, but Granger noticed a twinkle in his eye.

“We are pleased to see our friend the Earl of Bridgemont,” he said. “We hear rumors that your stables are producing some splendid horses this year.”

“Thank you your majesty. It looks to be a good year for horse flesh,” the Earl observed.

“We are pleased to see you recovering from your recent wounds Mr. Granger,” the King observed.

“Thank you your majesty,” Granger said as smoothly as he could. “I'm almost fully recovered.”

“Your bravery does credit to your family,” the King said.

“I must thank your majesty for such kind words,” Granger said. Then they bowed and they moved off.

“Ah Granger, I thought I heard your name. You recover from your bash on the head?” Granger turned to find himself fact to face with the First Lord of the Admiralty, Lord Chatham. He was usually here on audience days.

“Yes my lord. I'll have a bit of a scar, but otherwise I'll be no worse for the wear.”

“That was a nice piece of work, capturing a French frigate in 45 minutes of fighting. Sir Evelyn was most fulsome in his praise of you.”

“Thank you my lord. Sir Evelyn is a great Captain. I will miss not serving under him,” Granger said. He hid his smile. You have no idea how much I'll miss being under him, he thought.

“The Barracuda has been warped out of dock and should be ready to sail soon. You may rejoin her, of course, but I have a different assignment that I'd like you to consider,” Chatham said.

“I am at your service my lord,” Granger said, bowing slightly.

“Excellent. Then report to me at the Admiralty at 3:00 this afternoon.”

“Yes my lord,” Granger said.

Granger made the rounds of the room, seeing mostly members of the government and other important people. He knew most of them, had matured in this environment. He knew who was allied with whom, who had blood-feuds with the other, and all the other nefarious gossip that comes up when you put more than two people in a room together. His father wrote him regularly while he was away to keep him up on things as well. It made him feel as if he'd never been away at all.

He saw Lord Howe off in the corner and strode up to him, not wanting to interrupt him, but needing to talk to him. He looked up at Granger, his eyes sad.

“Welcome home Mr. Granger. You acquitted yourself well in the battle with the Rhone.”

“Thank you my lord,” Granger said respectfully. “Mr. Ballvin was in my division my lord.” Ballvin was one of Howe's relatives, possibly a nephew.

“So I understood. He always had good things to say about you. Is that what you came to tell me?” He was clearly irritated either at being interrupted, or at being reminded of Ballvin.

“I just wanted you to know how brave he was, my lord. When cannon balls and splinters were flying about, he didn't flinch once. He was a remarkable young officer, my lord.”

Howe looked at him and nodded. “Thank you for your words Mr. Granger. I will pass them on to his family.” Granger nodded, and left the admiral alone.

He was about to find his father and take his leave when he noticed a handsome young man, all by himself, off to the side of the room. Short, slim, but dressed in the height of fashion, he appeared to be hiding. Granger headed over, trying not to attract his attention until he was right up on him. It wasn't until he looked into his light brown eyes that he recognized him.

“Arthur! Arthur Teasdale! It has been years,” Granger exclaimed. They had gone to school together, and been pretty good friends. Arthur wasn't very athletic, quite effete in fact, but he'd managed to get along well with all the other boys anyway. That may have had something to do with his family connections. He was a member of the Crowley family, who made their money with iron foundries.

“George Granger,” he said with a smile, and extended his hand warmly. Granger took it and noticed that it felt a little clammy. “Don't you look dashing in your uniform, all marred up with a bandage. Quite the warrior.”

“Why thank you Arthur,” Granger said, giving him a mock bow. “And might I be so bold as to notice how well attired you are as well?” It was amazing how, even here at Court, their old playful banter could emerge.

“So you're to be sent to the Mediterranean I hear,” Teasdale told him.

“Well you know more about where I'm going than I do,” Granger said, absorbing that information. “I guess being a Member of Parliament has its advantages.”

“That it does. I'm sorry if I spilled the beans.” He looked up at Granger with those soft, pleading brown eyes, and took Granger back to the time in boarding school when they'd learned to masturbate together. Innocent at first, just showing off, and ending in Teasdale giving him one amazing hand job.

“Not to worry Arthur. I'm supposed to meet Chatham later today anyway. Can I still call you Arthur, or should I call you sir and genuflect?” Granger teased, trying to keep the mood light.

“I'll thrash you if you call me anything but Arthur. There's a gathering at Carlton House tonight around 7pm. Come join us all for dinner. You'll be my guest.”

“Thanks Arthur. That sounds like fun. I'll meet you there then, shall I?” Now that Granger was out and about, the thought of one of the Prince of Wales' parties had a lot of appeal.

“As you wish,” Arthur said, bowing deeply. “I shall see you there.” They shook hands, and Granger felt the tips of Teasdale's fingers graze across his palm as they released their grip. The feeling sent tingles up his arm, and straight to his groin. He strode off quickly. It wouldn't do at all to sport an erection during a Royal Audience.

“You saw Teasdale I see,” said the Earl as they climbed into the carriage. “He's becoming quite the influential young man. You would do well to cultivate your friendship with him.”

Granger bit back the irritation, the allusion that he'd re-kindle his friendship with Teasdale solely for political reasons. This was his father's world, this was how he operated. “He's invited me to Carlton House tonight.”

“Dinner with the Prince eh? Better take some guineas in case you end up gambling,” the Earl joked. Granger took a moment to think about all that was wrapped up in that statement. His middle brother, Bertie, had been all but disowned and banished from their home for squandering thousands of pounds gambling, while here the Earl was actually encouraging him to play. In a sense, it was one of the nicest things he'd ever said to Granger, telling him that he had confidence and trust in him.

The Admiralty was much more businesslike, and no-frills, compared to court. Granger announced himself to the secretary and began to wait for his audience with the First Lord. It was rare for a mere lieutenant to meet with the head of the Royal Navy, much less a junior one like Granger. He expected to be kept waiting for hours.

In the end, it was only one hour. And Chatham greeted him as cordially as ever, but Granger knew that had to do more with his father than with him.

“I'm busy Granger, so I'll make this quick,” he said, spitting the words out in a staccato fashion.

“Yes my lord,” Granger said as he stood at attention.

“I don't think you'll want to go back on Barracuda. Captain Wilcox has assumed command.” Granger stared at him. The Wilcox family would do anything they could to get him in their grips. Bertie had fought a duel with one of them, so now it was a family thing.

“I daresay you're right, my lord,” Granger said.

“I have reason to believe that he arranged his appointment to Barracuda with the knowledge that you'd be one of his lieutenants. It almost slipped by.”

“Thank you for looking out for me, my lord,” Granger said. It was a shame that a man like Chatham had to worry about nonsense like this.

“Bah,” Chatham said grumpily. “I've replaced you already, told Wilcox you were still wounded. You gallivanting around town doesn't help, but I don't really care what he thinks.”

“I've only been to court, my lord, but I've been invited to Carlton House tonight for dinner. Should I cancel?”

“Who invited you?”

“Arthur Teasdale, my lord.”

Chatham's face narrowed, and then he looked carefully at Granger. “No, you'd better go. Teasdale's more fearsome than the whole Wilcox family put together.”

Granger smiled. “We're old friends from school my lord.”

“Then that may serve you in good stead. Enough politics. Lord Hood needs another Flag Lieutenant in the Mediterranean and I'm planning to send you to him. I'll have you sent out with the next batch of instructions. You'll probably be here in London for another three to four weeks, but that could change in either direction. You must be ready to leave with four hours notice.”

“Yes my lord.” Appointment as a Flag Lieutenant, to be on the Commander in Chief's staff, was a plum assignment. “Thank you my lord.”

“You've earned it. Now run off and get spiffy for the ladies at Carlton House. Although I daresay if you're with Teasdale you'll be the only one looking at them.”

“My lord?” Granger asked.

“Never mind. Now be off.” Granger saluted crisply and headed out to the waiting carriage, and back to Bridgemont House to get ready for the evening's activities. He wondered what Chatham was referring to when he was talking about Teasdale. Did Teasdale have a reputation as a bugger? Granger put that out of his mind. Teasdale was a friend, bugger or not, but he'd have to be careful of his own reputation.

Granger got home to find Teasdale in the salon, chatting with his mother, waiting for him. He glanced up at the clock to note that it was only 5:00. Arthur jumped up gracefully. “I hope you don't mind me coming by unannounced like this,” he said.

Granger smiled at him. “Not at all Arthur. You are always welcome here.”

“You see Arthur,” the Countess said warmly, “that is just what I was telling you. Now if you two will excuse me,” she said, exiting quickly.

“I, uh, I just wanted to come by and, uh,” Arthur was nervous. “It was really good to see you George, and I wanted to see you again.”

“Come on. Keep my company while I get ready,” Granger said, leading him up the two flights of stairs to the second floor. They got to his room and Granger shut the door and locked it, hoping he did so without Teasdale noticing. “It's good to see you too.” Arthur sat on the edge of the bed nervously, looking up at Granger, and then scanning his body with his eyes.

Granger smiled, recognizing that look, the look of lust. “You won't mind if I change will you?” he asked Arthur. He hadn't planned to, but he knew what Arthur wanted.

“No, that's alright. Do you want me to wait outside?” Arthur asked nervously.

“Not unless you're uncomfortable,” Granger said, grinning.

“No, not at all,” Arthur said, blushing. “You probably shouldn't be seen with me though.”

“And why is that?” Granger said as he took off his coat and undid his tie.

“I have a bit of a reputation,” he said. He looked as if he was going to cry.

Granger took off his shirt seductively, letting Arthur appreciate his body, how developed it was. “What for?”

Arthur gulped as Granger began to undo his trousers and lower them. His cock was getting hard due to this display, so he turned away from Arthur, giving him a great view of his ass.

“There's a rumor going around that I like men. That I'm a bender,” he said.

Granger turned around, his hard cock aimed at Arthur's mouth. He moved forward slowly. “And are you?”

Arthur nodded as he moved forward and licked the tip of Granger's bulging head. Granger reached down and put his hands on Arthur's cheeks, gently encouraging him. It was a wasted effort. Arthur needed no encouragement. He worked Granger expertly, bobbing his mouth up and down on Granger's cock, sucking him like a drowning man drinks water.

“Careful Arthur, I'm gonna cum,” Granger whispered urgently, but Arthur just went at it that much more urgently. Granger felt his balls rise, and then he blew, exploding into Arthur's mouth and down his throat. It was a big load, a really big load, but Arthur swallowed it all.

“Thanks George,” he said, blushing.

“No, Arthur, thank you,” Granger replied. “Is that what you came over for?”

“Yeah, sort of,” he said shyly.

“Sort of?”

“I was actually going to try and get you to fuck me, but this was great. You taste so good George.” Granger leaned down and kissed him, and Arthur responded eagerly. He pushed Arthur onto his back and lay on top of him. Arthur sighed and wrapped his arms around Granger, yielding to him.

“I've got another idea,” Granger said, grinning. He reached down and undid Arthur's trousers, then pulled them down enough to expose his dick. He'd had a small dick as a kid, and it hadn't grown much since then. Granger reached over to his nightstand to grab his lanolin, sticking his underarm in Arthur's face. Arthur leaned up and licked him, licked the sweat of the day right out of his pit.

Granger lubed up Arthur's little dick and straddled him, absorbing him in almost one movement. “Ahh,” Arthur said, surprised. Granger stayed on top, keeping him pinned, letting Arthur know he was in control, while he fucked him, moving his ass up and down on his cute little dick. After the Captain's huge member, this was child's play.

“Gonna cum,” Arthur whimpered in no time at all. Then he flooded Granger's ass. He let Arthur lie there, panting, trying to catch his breath.

“Marvelous George. Marvelous. I've fantasized about you since I was 12, so this is like a dream come true.”

Granger smiled down at him. “Roll over,” he said. Arthur obeyed immediately. Granger slathered Arthur's ass up liberally. “That's for later, if we have a chance for a quick fuck.” Arthur giggled.

“You really do have to be careful around me,” Arthur said as George got ready for Carlton House.

“I will. Don't be offended if I keep my distance in public,” Granger said, then kissed Arthur again. “I'll make it up to you in private.” Arthur giggled.

Granger got ready and they left the house, taking Arthur's carriage. The shades were drawn so no one could see inside. “Drive around the park first,” Arthur told the coachman, then leered at Granger as he hopped in first. God, he had a cute little ass, Granger thought.

As soon as they were in the coach and it was moving, Arthur dropped his pants and bent over in front of Granger. “Now, George. Fuck me now.”

Granger pulled his trousers down and took out his raging hard cock. He tried to move slowly into Arthur, but he wasn't having it. He moved back and absorbed Granger's dick. This wasn't his first go around, Granger noted. He began to pummel his ass, fucking him harder and harder, until he brought himself to climax. Arthur’s ass was too tight, too willing, and too sweet to hold back. It was only after Granger had satisfied himself that he thought about Arthur. He needn't have worried. Arthur turned around smiling at him, holding a handkerchief full of the load he'd just blown.

“I knew you'd be a total stud Georgie. You want a real man, find a sailor.” Granger grinned as they pulled themselves together. “You're on your own tonight,” Arthur announced as they approached Carlton House.

“You're not coming in?” Granger asked.

“I already got what I wanted.” Granger smiled and nodded, then hopped out of the carriage, the lights of Carlton House glimmering in the evening.

He stomped up to the door where a man asked his name. “Lieutenant the Honorable George Granger!” Just like at court, everyone pretended not to notice. Granger made his way toward the Prince of Wales, who was playing Hazard.

“You're back and well Granger. Heard about your wound. Glad you survived it,” the Prince said, somewhat distracted by the game.

“Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” Granger said, bowing. Then he left him to his cards.

“George! I heard you were back, but I thought you were still laid up.”

Granger turned to find Caroline Haversham, the woman his parents were trying to get him to marry. “Caroline, I would have recovered much faster if you had come to visit,” he said, pretending to pout.

“Now George Granger, don't you try to make me feel guilty. I wanted to, but they wouldn't let me. Said I'd look like a tramp.” She was really pretty, and her vivacious charm turned her into a real beauty.

“And if you'd been alone with me, I might have turned you into one,” he teased.

“You are still a cad. That knock on the head didn't help at all.” She looked around furtively. “Have you seen the new picture gallery?”

Granger had, but didn't think that was the point. “I'm not sure.”

“Come on then,” she said, grabbing his hand and dragging him off. They walked through a big salon with pictures and portraits on the wall, then into a warren of little rooms. She came to a door, scratched it with her nail, and then went in. Granger followed her, shocked to find himself in a small bedroom, very small, with a bed, a little table, and that's it.

“You must think I'm so forward, but I worried about you so,” she said as she moved up to him, against him. Her soft body pushed against him, against his hard body, against his hard cock. He leaned down and kissed her, gently at first, then more passionately. He moved his hands up to her bosom, to her soft, warm breasts, and fondled them gently. She moaned into his mouth. Her own hand fell to his trousers, to his groin, and massaged his dick. She smiled up at him as she undid her dress, letting it fall to the floor.

She stood there in stockings and garters, wearing her corset, but with her groin exposed, a small bush of hair hiding that most personal of her places. It was an incredibly erotic vision. He pushed her onto the small bed and moved his hand to her leg, then up to her thigh, and then to the moist cavern between her legs. She moaned, thrusting into him as he probed her with his fingers, not really knowing what he was doing, but just trying to do what she liked. She was really wet, almost dripping, and he felt her hand on his throbbing cock again.

He undid his trousers and took it out. She caressed it with her hand, and then guided him to her, into her. He lined himself up and pushed in, but nothing happened. He saw her grimace, and pushed harder. And then it was like something snapped, and he was in. She cried in pain, and he looked at her worried, but she shook her head and kissed him, willing him to go on. He began to thrust into her. She felt so soft, so warm, that he gave himself over to pleasure. He must be doing something right, because her moans told him that she was enjoying herself.

Granger pumped on, enjoying the sensation, but not enough to bring him to climax. That seemed to make Caroline happy, as she just thrashed around under him. Granger contrasted her soft, loose pussy to Arthur's tight ass. The thought of Arthur, of fucking him, was the stimulation Granger needed. He felt his balls rise again and he exploded inside Caroline, slamming, driving into her with each pulse, while she moaned and pushed right back against him.

They lay there afterward, panting, smiling at each other. Granger looked down at the bed and saw blood. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, horrified.

She put her hand on his cheek and focused his attention back to her face. “It hurt a little George. You were my first. That's what happens when a woman loses her virginity. And you were wonderful.”

He kissed her lovingly. “So does this mean you want to marry me?” he teased.

“You are such a perceptive young man,” she teased back.

“Your father will kill me for this,” Granger said nervously.

“No, he won't. He'll be annoyed, though, when your father uses it as leverage when he's negotiating with my father. It's alright George. They almost have the deal done. This is just insurance. I want to be with you.” Granger looked at her nervously. She was quite the little vixen. He realized then that he'd fallen right into her trap. She'd seduced him in order to make sure they were married. It took a great deal of the pleasure out of it.

“We'd better get back to the dinner,” he said.

“Don't be mad at me George. I'm not trying to trap you. I just don't like being a pawn. When we're together, we're a team, and I'll fight for you, for us, just like I am right now.”

“It's just a different way of thinking Caroline. I'm used to thinking of myself as my father's son. That's where my loyalties are, or at least where they were,” Granger said, digesting this side of politics, the politics of the bedroom.

“Well I'm not thinking like that. We're a team, you and me, and I will do what it takes to defend our interests,” she said severely. It was almost scary.

“So what did I do to deserve such a stunning young woman like you?” Granger asked, flirting.

“You're brave, you're strong, you're devastatingly handsome, and your father owns a big chunk of Derbyshire,” she said, joking back, and making him laugh.

“I think we'll do well together, as long as my father doesn't kill me for this.” Granger was worried that he just might. She giggled at that.

The pulled their clothes on, pulled themselves together, and tried to sneak out of the room and back to the party. Granger wasn't sure if they'd been seen or not, but Caroline seemed to have this all figured out. He'd just have to trust her.

A sheepish and hung over George Granger made his way downstairs for breakfast. He rather hoped his father wouldn't be there, but he was, as was his mother. Granger sighed as he sat down at the table.

“Did you have a good time at Carlton House last night?” the Earl asked.

“Too good of a time Father,” Granger said guiltily.

“How much did you lose?” he asked.

“My virginity,” Granger said, not quite meaning it to come out that way, but it was too late now.

“I beg your pardon?” asked the Countess.

The Earl ignored her. “And just whom did you lose your virginity to?” He was irritated, pissed even.

“Caroline Haversham,” Granger said. “I'm sorry father. She was so happy to see me and, well, it just sort of happened. I should have had more self control.”

And then the most incredible thing happened. His parents both got devilishly evil smiles on their faces. “Aren't you mad at me?”

“We've been trying to negotiate an adequate dowry for Caroline. Her father is about as free with his money as the King. It seemed the perfect match, but he just wouldn't budge. Caroline has handed me the weapon to force his hand,” the Earl said.

“I don't understand Father,” Granger said, helpless in this new political world.

“His daughter has been deflowered. He has only one option. Marry her off to the man who deflowered her, or find someone much less suitable. Now that she's not a virgin, she'll have a reputation, and she'll be much less sought after.” The Earl seemed quite pleased with this.

“But Father, I don't want to ruin her reputation. I never meant to hurt her!” Granger was really devastated about that.

“Dear, relax,” his mother said. “Caroline has chosen you, and she's made a huge leap to get you. She's the one gambling here, not you. You should be impressed that she's chosen you, and that she's willing to fight to get you, even if it means going against her own father.”

“If you say so, Mother. I feel like a fish out of water, figuratively and literally.” Granger couldn't believe the degree of scheming involved.

“I told you to trust me George. When this is over, you and Caroline will be well set up to take your place in society,” his father said.