Northern Exposure - 68. Chapter 68

June 20, 1801

South of Chelmsford

“We will make Brentwood before nightfall,” Granger said confidently. They’d just managed to travel through Chelmsford without too many delays, although the crowds had been big. Granger mused that it was lucky that Chelmsford was the last town they’d transit before Brentwood, as they were running very low on copper coins.

“If it were just the two of us, we could have just ridden and arrived yesterday,” Daventry grumbled, his thoughts echoing Granger’s. That it only took them two days to get to Brentwood from Great Yarmouth was no small achievement, but that did not make Granger and Daventry any less impatient.

“That would have largely made your reasons for riding with an escort unimportant,” Granger said. The dragoons had done wonderfully, managing to keep the roads clear enough through the big towns while acting as an insurmountable deterrent to highwaymen.

“So you say,” Daventry said. “How is the Norwegian?” They’d just had a posting stop and Granger had taken that opportunity to visit with Lieutenant van Hjelmeland.

“He is weak and in pain,” Granger said sadly. “Riding on these roads is not easy for a man in his condition, especially as we are trying to reach Brentwood quickly.” Their pace had been dictated by their desire to go as fast as possible, tempered by the need to make sure things weren’t unbearable for van Hjelmeland.

“Hopefully they have been able to locate your doctor, he has been able to repair to Brentwood, and his miracle cure will actually work,” Daventry said. His delineation of the steps needed to save van Hjelmeland just emphasized how unlikely such a serendipitous string of events should happen.

Granger opted to change the subject, as he had grown attached to van Hjelmeland and did not want to think about his demise. “I had largely discounted Cavendish’s words about problems in the country, but now that we have traveled inland, I see what he was talking about.”

“Indeed,” Daventry agreed. When they had been near the coast, the poverty and hunger caused by poor harvests had been less apparent; but now that they were in farming country, as it were, things appeared much more dire.

“The poor peasants all but lunged for a copper coin.”

“I was tempted to throw silver, but I am not sure that would have been enough to solve the problem,” Daventry observed sadly. It really was depressing to come home and find such economic devastation. Granger realized that this topic was just as depressing as contemplating van Hjelemland’s health, so he redirected their conversation once again.

“I have been pondering our discussion about our next plans,” Granger said.

“And you have some new information to share with me?” Daventry asked.

“I do. I think both of us should remain at Brentwood unless or until we are summoned,” Granger opined.

“I think our consultation with the government will be important,” Daventry objected.

“Then let them ask us for it,” Granger said. “I do not want to go to London until I have a feel for this new situation, this new government. I would prefer that information come to me, rather than me going to seek it out, and I would prefer that they ask me to meet with them, rather than to appear as if I am anxious to meet with them.”

Daventry paused to think about that. “I think that you are absolutely correct,” he finally pronounced. “I am driving myself forward, anxious to immerse myself in the politics and intrigues of London, when patience will be much smarter.”

“I am glad that you think so,” Granger said, smiling, since he’d anticipated a pitched battle over his proposal. “I would also note that the environment you seek to immerse yourself in is much less alluring than you think.”

“This much is certain,” Daventry said as he chuckled. “Would you mind if I made an observation?” Granger frowned, as that probably meant Daventry was about to talk about something that would annoy Granger.

“By all means,” Granger said fatalistically.

“You already had good political instincts before this latest mission, but I find that our time in the Baltics has seemingly allowed you to hone them considerably,” Daventry said.

“Navigating the snake pit that was the Russian Court was good training,” Granger said ruefully.

Daventry laughed. “Indeed it was.”

“Thank you for your compliment and allow me to observe the same thing about you,” Granger said.

“That is nice of you to say, but you are wrong,” Daventry said. “I have become impatient. I am not quite sure why, but I am grateful that your calmness and insight have helped me avoid major blunders.”

“We make a good team,” Granger said.

“We do,” Daventry said. “You still seem apprehensive.”

Granger almost sighed, but opted instead to share his thoughts. “I have a premonition that there will be significant issues for me to deal with, and that they largely revolve around Caroline.”

“You like to have things planned out, nicely organized and predictable,” Daventry accused. Granger pondered his words.

“And why is that a problem?” he asked, since there was no use arguing otherwise.

“Because that is impossible to do with women,” Daventry said with a grin. “You can fret about it all you want, but whatever is happening, it is something you will have to deal with when it affects you.”

“I have honed my instincts at sea, but am finding that they do me a disservice when I am ashore,” Granger noted.

“They do not,” Daventry said. “They are but one of your many talents, but in this case, trying to anticipate the problems and how to solve them will only injure your cause.”

“I don’t understand,” Granger said.

“Because to imagine what it is that Caroline has done to cause you irritation, you will have to think of such events, and that will make you angry. Thus when you actually have to react to them, you will do so with that as your dominant emotion,” Daventry said. “Try instead to think of the good things about your relationship. In that way, you are predisposed to react in a much better way.”

Granger smiled. “I understand. I think I have let my experience coming home after the Battle of St. Vincent make me anticipate that every homecoming will be equally horrific. In fact, that has not been the case.”

“I would further suggest that even if it were to be awful, expecting it to be that way will only make things worse,” Daventry said.

“It seems that I am not the only one who has grown smarter and more experienced on this voyage,” Granger said.

“I would like to think so,” Daventry said waspishly.

“What do you think the government will do with you?” Granger asked.

“Probably send me packing,” Daventry observed drily, making them both chuckle.

“I suspect you will need at least a fortnight or two before they remember how pleasant it is to have you around,” Granger teased. They laughed some more, then Daventry got more introspective.

“I seem to be the one they throw into tough diplomatic situations, so I would expect that to continue,” Daventry said. “On the other hand, they may decide that I would serve better as an ambassador.”

“Which would you prefer?” Granger asked.

“I used to thrive on the challenge of a new situation, so being resident in a foreign country for an extended period of time seemed like it would be hell, especially since it would take me far from London,” he said. “Now I am not so sure.”

“If I were to hazard a guess, I would posit that since you have been away on a mission with considerable danger at every corner, the prospect of a more secure and stable position might seem attractive,” Granger said. “I am also willing to wager that after you have been home for six months, the equation may change, and you will once again feel the need to wander the world and wreak havoc.” Daventry laughed loudly at that.

“I think you are probably right,” Daventry said. “It seems that we must both take things in stride, as they come.” Granger watched as the sky got progressively darker and began to wonder if they’d make it to Brentwood by nightfall. Just as the sun was starting to set, they arrived at the entry to the estate. Granger stared off in the distance to see his massive home which rose up like a gothic cathedral, highlighted by the last of the daylight. “It is a beautiful sight,” Daventry noted. Brentwood had once been an abbey, and as such it had contained a beautiful medieval chapel, one that had been modified to form a great hall beyond the initial entryway. Its crisp form, not too dissimilar to Westminster Abbey, was truly awe inspiring.

“Indeed it is,” Granger said. “We are finally home.”

“I must say that the roads on your land are considerably smoother than His Majesty’s highways,” Daventry noted as the carriage rumbled down the long drive.

“I suspect Lieutenant van Hjelmeland will appreciate that,” Granger said wryly.

“I am not sure that he is lucid enough to notice,” Daventry noted.

The carriage followed the squad of dragoons up to the entry of Brentwood, with the rest of their convoy trailing behind them. As soon as the vehicle stopped, Granger jumped out, followed closely by Daventry, and paused to thank the captain who had escorted them. “Captain, I am most appreciative of your assistance. I will be honored to accommodate you and your men this evening.”

“Thank you, my lord,” he said curtly. “We appreciate your hospitality.”

While Granger had been talking to the captain, the doors to his home had opened, and Hudson, his butler, came down to greet him, followed by a group of footmen. “Welcome home, my lord,” he said. It was especially flattering that this normally stoic man was smiling broadly.

“Thank you, Hudson,” Granger said, smiling back just as happily. “It is good to be here. Is Lady Granger here?”

“She is not, my lord, but I dispatched a courier to London as soon as we received word you were on your way,” he said. “Your children are here, as is Lord Astley.” Lord Astley was the courtesy title of Daventry’s son.

“That is excellent,” Granger said. “We have some people to lodge.”

“We will be happy to take care of them, my lord,” Hudson said, and followed Granger to the next carriage.

“Lieutenant van Hjelmeland is seriously wounded. I am most anxious for Dr. Jackson to attend to him,” Granger said.

“Your lordship had mentioned that in your message, and while I knew you had sent a rider to find him, I took the liberty of dispatching another man,” Hudson said.

“That is excellent,” Granger said. They opened the door to the second coach and the stench of van Hjelmeland’s wound was almost overpowering. It was a testament to their devotion that Matheus and Anson had been able to stomach it. “We will need a room for the lieutenant that can be sealed off.”

“We have a space prepared, my lord,” he said. Two footmen gently maneuvered van Hjelmeland’s stretcher out of the coach, but as careful as they were, they still bumped it a bit, getting soft cries of pain in return. The cries would have been louder if the lieutenant had been stronger.

“This is Matheus von Fersen; I have adopted him as my ward,” Granger said, introducing Matheus to Hudson.

“It is a pleasure to welcome you, sir,” Hudson said in a friendly way.

“Thank you,” Matheus said, and blinked at being called ‘sir’.

Winkler and Boles were in the third carriage; they both disembarked and hurried over, ready to attend to Granger and Daventry.

“Welcome back, Winkler,” Hudson said cordially. Granger introduced him to Boles.

“We will also need to see to housing the entourage I have brought with me, and there are many items to offload and store,” Granger said.

“Would your lordships allow me to work with Winkler and Boles to handle that?” Hudson asked.

“Of course,” Granger said, answering for Daventry as well.

“Father!” Granger heard, and turned to see William running toward him. Granger enveloped him in a warm hug, one that was so exuberant he picked him up off the ground.

“It is good to see you,” Granger said warmly, and gripped him tighter. He saw a young man trailing after William, smiling slightly.

“I am Chester Pence, my lord,” the man said. “Her Ladyship engaged me to be William’s governor.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pence,” Granger said, hitting the man with the full force of his charisma. “I suspect that governing Lord Ryde is a bit of a challenge.”

“Rather, my lord, he is refreshing,” Pence said.

“When I find myself with a few spare moments, you can acquaint me with your curriculum for William,” Granger said. “In the meantime, I am going to entrust you with my ward. This is Matheus.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Matheus,” Pence said. Matheus managed to mumble a reply.

“William, Matheus is my ward. He would someday like to be a sailor,” Granger explained to his son. “It would please me if you would treat him as your companion, and introduce him to your brother and sisters.”

“Of course, Father,” William said, then turned to Matheus. “Come on then.” And with that the two of them ran up to the steps and into the house, while Granger shook his head.

Granger turned to Daventry. “We will assume that Winkler, Boles, and Hudson have things well in hand. Let us go see the rest of my children and meet Lord Astley.”

“I am at your service,” Daventry said, and seemed quite happy about that prospect. Before they could make it into the house, one of the dragoons shouted to get their attention. It was dark now, so they weren’t sure what he was yelling about until they looked to the main road, the one they’d just come from. There, moving at a slow pace, were torches. “I am not sure that torches are a positive omen,” Daventry said. Granger was of a like mind and began wondering if with the pandemonium in the countryside, his arrival had attracted a group of bandits. He quickly put that concern aside, since the footmen and staff alone were enough to ward off all but a large and determined mob, while the dragoons were more than capable of dispersing any potential brigands.

“I suspect this will end up being a positive event,” Granger said. He stood there on the porch with Daventry, watching as the torches moved closer and closer. It was not until they approached the entry courtyard that Granger realized the torches were being held by horsemen, who were guiding a carriage. As the carriage grew closer, so Granger’s smile grew, because he recognized that this was one of his carriages, in his signature blue and cream colors with his arms on the door. It was being escorted by a group of his footmen on horseback, and it was they who were carrying the torches. Granger and Daventry descended the stairs just as the door opened. The first person who exited was Dr. Jackson.

“My lord, it is good to see you home,” he said effusively, and greeted Granger warmly. “I understand there is a man who is in need of my assistance.”

“I must thank you for rushing to attend to him,” Granger said. “His wound has become gangrenous, and I am hoping you can perform one of your miracles.”

“I will try, my lord,” he said skeptically. Hudson dispatched him to tend to van Hjelmeland with a footman to guide him, while Granger’s attention returned to the coach. He was happy to be home, and elated that Dr. Jackson had arrived, but the next person out of the coach made all of those prior sentiments pale in comparison to the joy he felt.

“Cavendish!” Granger exclaimed and rushed forward to greet his friend. They embraced, separated to look at each other, then embraced again.

“I opted to let the good doctor out of the carriage first, lest he run me down,” Cavendish said playfully, even as he grinned at Granger.

“You have braved a journey at night to come visit me,” Granger said playfully.

“I have indeed, and one would think that is at least worthy of a drink,” Cavendish quipped, then turned his attention to Daventry. “It is good to see you as well, Daventry.” They exchanged warm greetings.

“I am glad that you are here, but as I was about to meet my son before your arrival, the delay is now beginning to vex me,” Daventry said.

“Then let us accommodate your lordship so you do not become more vexed,” Granger said. He paused to give Hudson instructions to prepare supper, then the three of them went into the house. They walked through the entry, which had probably once been a narthex, and then into the Great Hall.

“No matter how many times I come here, I am still awed by this room,” Cavendish said. Their eyes scanned the stained-glass windows which were largely invisible because it was dark, with the exception of those which had managed to catch enough moonlight to still shine.

“This is new,” Granger said, looking at what appeared to be a balcony that extended out into the room.

“Indeed, my lord,” Hudson said. “Her ladyship had this installed just recently.”

“Why did she do that?” Daventry asked.

Brentwood was shaped like a big U, and this great room was the part at the bottom of the U. Before there had been two separate staircases that extended up to the second floor in each wing. “Caroline has connected the wings,” Granger noted. “Instead of having to descend one set of stairs in the south wing and then ascend another set in the north wing, you can use the walkway to simply walk from one to the other.”

“Brilliant,” Daventry said, impressed at not only Caroline’s having solved the problem, but how she had done it.

“This gallery was built using steel construction, my lord,” Hudson added. “It is much like those in the Drury Lane Theatre in London.”

“That is marvelous,” Granger observed. “If she had used standard construction materials, it would have dominated this room. Now it merely floats above it.”

“Quite inspired,” Cavendish agreed.

All this talk about his wife prompted Granger to ask about her. “Did Caroline opt not to join you?” he asked Cavendish. Granger had assumed that she would have been anxious to see him and would have made the trek out to Brentwood with Cavendish. Cavendish waited until they reached the top of the stairs before answering.

“She is at Heathford,” Cavendish replied, but there was the slightest hint of nervousness in his voice that made Granger suspect there was more to this than Cavendish was letting on.

“The season is not over yet,” Granger observed with a questioning lilt to his voice. It was quite unlike Caroline to leave town when Parliament was in session.

“Caroline left two weeks ago,” Cavendish said. “Parliament will adjourn by the end of the month.”

“I suspect we have much to talk about,” Daventry said, shutting down their conversation as they reached the nursery.

Granger forgot all about his wife and her activities when he was enveloped in a warm welcome by his children. He and Daventry laughed hilariously when Charlotte ran to greet Cavendish and called him ‘Freck’, but the real drama was the scene that developed as Daventry strode over to the side of the room, where he met his son. Granger smiled as Daventry first met Lord Astley, then held him. When he did, it was as if there was a halo of happiness around them.

Hudson came and interrupted their time with the children to announce that supper was ready. Granger wanted nothing more than to sequester himself away with Cavendish, but he first had to be a good host. He led Cavendish and Daventry to the dining room, where he was pleased to find the captain and two lieutenants of the dragoons who had escorted them along with Dr. Jackson and Anson. They shared pleasant greetings then took their places. “And how is our Norwegian?” Daventry asked Jackson.

“He is in bad shape, my lord,” Jackson said somberly. “If it were not for the excellent care he received for his wound, he would not have survived this long.”

“I think that prompts a toast to his primary guardian, Mr. Anson,” Granger said. He raised his glass and got a resounding ‘hear hear’ from the others.

“I am only hoping it was enough, my lord,” Anson said shyly. Granger caught Cavendish eying the young man, and that made him almost giggle.

“We will know in a few days if he will make it,” Jackson said to the table in general.

“Mr. Anson and I have a surprise for you later,” Granger said to Cavendish. Cavendish tried not to laugh at the double entendre buried in that statement that only he would understand.

“That makes me want to eat this delicious food with great speed,” Cavendish said. Dinner was a fun and lively affair, but it taxed Granger to the edge of patience, so anxious was he to spend some time with Cavendish. After dinner had broken up, Granger led Cavendish and Daventry to his study, and offered them cigars along with a glass of port. “We must return to London tomorrow.”

“Why must we go to London tomorrow?” Daventry asked, annoyed.

“I will let Granger explain that to you,” then handed Granger a letter.

Granger opened the letter and pulled out what looked like a hastily written note. He opted to read it to his colleagues as he read it for the first time himself. “My dear Granger, I must be brief because the courier awaits and I must get this to you as soon as possible. I am to be presented in the House of Lords on June 23 and was hoping you would be able to be one of my supporting peers. Nelson.”

“That is quite an honor that Nelson does you,” Cavendish noted.

“Indeed it is,” Granger agreed, thinking of his admiral. It would also generate a great deal of public interest, and that would bring him more fame, but he opted not to dread that and just focus on the occasion.

“Then we must return to London,” Daventry said, more to affirm that he had no objection. “Let us leave at dawn.” They summoned Winkler and Boles and explained their change in plans. Granger ignored their annoyed looks at just unloading their chests only to have to load them up again.

As soon as they left, Granger focused on the issue that was most on his mind. “Why did Caroline go to Heathford?” he asked Cavendish.

“She and her mother opted to check on the progress that was being made, and Colonel Charles Stewart agreed to accompany them,” Cavendish said. His nervousness and conveying this news along with his annoyance with Caroline was obvious in his tone.

“Isn’t he Castlereagh’s brother?” Daventry asked.

“Half-brother,” Cavendish corrected. “He is the opposite of Castlereagh in almost every way.”

“I am quite impressed by Castlereagh, so that makes me suspect I will not be so pleased to meet Colonel Stewart,” Granger observed. “Especially if he is having an affair with my wife.”

“He is a loutish bore,” Cavendish said. “And he is indeed having an affair with your wife.”

Granger looked briefly at Daventry, telling his friend with just his eyes that this was just the sort of thing he was worried about. “I suppose everyone knows about it?” Granger asked.

“They are not obvious, but it is a common gossip item,” Cavendish said. “She opted to go to Heathford early and left me to handle your affairs with Parliament.”

Granger realized that Cavendish was equally nervous about this, and about being a bit in the middle of this situation. “That shows that her good judgment has not entirely left her.”

Cavendish smiled. “I would like to think so.”

“What am I to make of this?” Granger asked.

“It is not uncommon for married people to have affairs, especially when they are separated for a long time,” Cavendish said. “Unless the affair is scandalous, and this one is not, it will not cause undue problems.”

“This one is not scandalous?” Granger challenged. A steely look from Cavendish settled him down.

“Stewart is the younger son of the Marquess of Londonderry,” Cavendish reminded Granger. “If he were a footman, it would be scandalous.”

“I can see that,” Granger agreed. The prior times Caroline had been involved with other men had resulted first in the birth of Elizabeth and next in gossip about her tryst with Cavendish and Major Treadway. This was a much more conventional affair. “I suspect His Majesty will not be happy when he finds out.”

“He will not be,” Cavendish said. “I suspect he already knows. But Caroline rarely has anything to do with the King, and he is fond of you in spite of your wife, so this will not damage you in his eyes.”

“That is good to know,” Granger said with relief, even as he began to grapple with what it meant to be back in England and immersed in all of his relationships and their connected politics. “What do I do about it?”

“I would wait and see what Caroline does when she finds out you are home, George,” Daventry said. “If she rushes back to see you, then you would be advised not to make too much of an issue about it.” In his non-verbal way, he was also reminding Granger that he was not exactly an angel.

“And if she does not?” Granger asked.

“Then you will have to assume that your marriage, or at least romantic side of it, is possibly over,” he said.

“I will not have the answer to that question for a few days, in any event,” Granger said, then turned his attention back to Cavendish. “Tell us of London.”