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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Peace of Amiens - 15. Chapter 15
Happy Bastille Day, 2024
September 23, 1801
Cowes, England
Sir Francis Calvert had avoided Sir William Cornwallis, not because he did not respect the admiral, but because he was pained by his separation from the navy. He cared about Amelia, and he would probably grow to love her, but he truly was a fish out of water. All the royal rules and protocols were not as familiar to him as they were to the other courtiers, who did not seem overly concerned about his lack of experience and seemed even less inclined to help him. He was locked in a world that did not really want him, and locked out of a world he longed to return to.
To hide himself adequately, he went upstairs and opted to visit Granger’s offspring. He had truly enjoyed spending time with them before, and thought that with Granger preoccupied with his Royal houseguests, he would try to fill the void a bit. He entered their wing and saw their surprise at seeing him. “Captain Calvert,” Pence said in a welcoming way, then saw Calvert’s ribbon. “I beg your pardon, Sir Francis.”
“I am more exalted than the last time you saw me, Mr. Pence, but I am as surprised by the honors bestowed on me as I expect you are,” Calvert said, shooting his charm at the schoolmaster. Pence chuckled lightly.
Charlotte and Elizabeth gave him hugs, then he sat with them all and they chatted about inane but fun things. “We get to meet the King today,” Charlotte announced.
“And are you ready?” Calvert asked. Each of them went through the routine, showing him how well they could execute a curtsy or bow. There was a bit of George in all of them, in that they were already smooth enough, even at these young ages, to show the manners that would be required of them in ten years or so. “You all did very well.”
“Thank you,” William said formally, speaking for all of them.
“We met Carmella last night,” Alexander said, and gave William a smarmy look.
“I do not like her,” William said firmly. “She treated father just like mother treated Colonel Stewart.”
“Well, I like her,” Alexander said, clearly trying to start an argument with his older brother.
“William, would you join me for a moment?” Calvert asked, as he stood up.
“Yes, sir,” William said nervously. He stood up and followed Calvert out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door. Calvert led him to a bench next to the huge reservoir and they both sat on it.
“Carmella is your father’s mistress, but it is different than when your mother was with Colonel Stewart,” Calvert explained.
“Why is it different?” William asked.
“First of all, the rules are different for men than for women,” Calvert said. “Men are expected to have affairs with women, while nice women are not supposed to have affairs.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” William said, making Calvert smile at his innate sense of equity.
“It is not, but it is the way society works,” Calvert said. “Now that your parents are separated, it is expected that your father will have other women in his life. If he did not, people might criticize him for it.”
“What if he had done this before they were separated?” he asked. Calvert was amazed at how mature William was.
“Society would have looked the other way and said nothing,” Calvert said. “Even when people are married, it is not uncommon for men to have relations with other women.”
“I’ll bet that makes women mad,” William said.
“I am certain that it does, at least most of the time,” Calvert said, chuckling. “I am trying to explain this to you so you will not be angry with your father, or Carmella. She makes him happy, and he is doing what he is supposed to do.”
“He is doing his duty,” William concluded, getting clarity.
“Your father always does his duty,” Calvert asserted strongly. They stood up and went back upstairs. Calvert left William with Pence, and smiled broadly when William shook his hand like such a little man. Before he could escape, a footman arrived to escort the children down to meet the King and Queen. They looked terrified. “I will go with you.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte said with relief. They followed behind Calvert as he led them down to the drawing room.
The drawing room was quite busy today, serving as a royal reception room. Granger had just finished ushering Sir William and his captains out of his house and returned to find the King and Queen, along with the princesses except Amelia, seemingly enjoying a calm moment before dinner. “Your Majesties, I wonder if I may impose upon you,” Granger said as he bowed.
“What do you need, Brentwood?” the King asked gruffly, but in a friendly way.
“I was of a mind to take my children with us on our voyage to London, but I wanted to make sure such an arrangement met with Your Majesties’ approval,” Granger said.
“You may bring your progeny with us, what what,” the King said.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said. “There is one more thing. As they are to travel with us, would it be possible to introduce them to Your Majesties even though they are still quite young?”
The King smiled broadly, because he was essentially a family man, and Granger had watched as he had doted on Princess Charlotte, the daughter of the Prince of Wales, who was the same age as Elizabeth. “You may.”
Granger gestured to the chamberlain, then surprisingly enough, Calvert entered. “Sir Francis Calvert,” the chamberlain announced. Calvert bowed, walked up in front of the King and Queen, bowed again, then stood to their left side, while Granger stood to their right. Granger felt his heart swell for this man who had done this to help his children feel comfortable during what must be a very stressful experience. He smiled at Calvert and got a similar expression in return. After Calvert, his four children came walking in. He was so proud of them, acting quite like perfect little courtiers. “The Honorable William, Viscount Granger,” the chamberlain boomed. William looked like a small clone of his father, bowing perfectly to the King and Queen then walking with a smoothness that his younger siblings could not yet match. “The Honorable Lady Charlotte Granger.” Charlotte looked cute, and it was easy to see that she would ultimately be quite the beauty. She was almost as confident and calm as William, and her curtsy was above reproach. “The Honorable Alexander Granger,” the chamberlain said. Alexander did an adequate bow, then followed his sister in the relaxed style one would see in a public market. Granger allowed himself an unusual breach of discipline in that he rolled his eyes at this son, who portended nothing but trouble. Granger focused on Calvert, who had seen the gesture and was smirking at him in response. “The Honorable Lady Elizabeth Granger,” he finally pronounced. Elizabeth was adorable and did her curtsy so well even the Queen raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“He said my name,” she said loudly to Alexander, who motioned her to shut up. The four of them lined up and then bowed or curtsied again in unison.
“It is good to meet all of you,” the King said, smiling, then turned to Elizabeth. “You curtsy especially well for someone your age.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she said seriously, and curtsied again. They bowed or curtsied one more time, then the four of them backed away from the throne and exited the drawing room.
“I am very impressed with your children, Brentwood,” he said.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said. “I am quite proud of them, although I fear that my second son looks to be something of a rogue.” The King and Queen laughed at that.
“If you need advice on how to manage sons like that, do not look to me,” the Queen said dourly.
Granger exited the drawing room with Calvert. “That was very nice of you to make my children feel easier about meeting Their Majesties.”
“They are quite endearing,” he said. “I spent some time with them this morning.”
“Indeed?” Granger asked curiously.
“William was angry with you for ostensibly committing the same sin that Caroline did,” Calvert explained. “He said that Carmella treated you just like Caroline had treated Colonel Stewart.”
“I did not realize my children had seen them together,” Granger said, and felt the rage beginning to boil within. No wonder the staff had been so outraged. No wonder William had finally chastised Caroline. It was bad enough for Caroline to have had an affair, worse that it was public, far worse that she would introduce Stewart to his children, and inexcusable that she would dote on Stewart in front of them. Some people walked by them, so they began to head upstairs to the room they were sharing. By the time they reached their room, Granger was mad enough to vent his displeasure with Caroline in a most unfitting way, if she were there to endure his ire.
“I did not either, but I would caution you to not make this an issue with Caroline,” Calvert said. Granger glared at him, even as he followed Calvert into their room and locked the door behind him. Calvert smirked a bit.
“And why should I not?” Granger asked petulantly. It made him even angrier that he was acting so childish. He was finding that where his children were involved, his rational abilities seemed to evade him. He wondered if this was how the King and Queen felt when dealing with the Prince of Wales.
“Because it will do no good, and it will only create problems you do not need,” Calvert said. Granger stared at him blankly.
“Caroline has humiliated me in front of my own sons and daughters. She has set a horrible example for all of them. She has scarred them,” Granger insisted.
“I do not think that is the case,” Calvert said firmly, to calm George down. “Look at how William rose to defend you. Look how he took your part. He learned something, alright.”
Granger smiled as he thought about his dutiful older son. “I took him with me a few times when I was in command of Valiant. It was a memorable experience for both of us.”
“George, you do not need to fight Caroline over this,” Calvert continued, trying to lead Granger to the conclusion he knew he must reach. “You have a détente with her, and really, neither one of us should be risking her wrath.”
“You are worried that she will sully our reputations?” Granger asked.
“She probably already has,” Calvert said. “I suspect that is why there was so much pressure on us after I escaped, and why Chalmers felt he could get away with his scheme.”
“Once again we were weak, and that made us vulnerable,” Granger mused. It was just like things had been with the Guild. They had been fighting with each other, and that organization had smelled weakness and pounced. Caroline had done the same thing with her malicious gossip.
“Yes,” Calvert agreed.
“Yet now we are much more secure,” Granger noted. “You are popular with Princess Amelia, and I am in an acknowledged relationship with Carmella.”
“Ask yourself this, George,” Calvert said. “Is this really worth starting a war?”
“I am worried that if I let this go unanswered, I will look weak,” Granger said.
“I do not think Caroline works that way,” Calvert said. “I think that she is nervous because of your power and will leave well enough alone.”
“She can ill afford a conflict at this point, that much is certain,” Granger noted.
“George, it is over,” Calvert said plaintively. “Let it go.”
Granger grimaced, then nodded, accepting what he knew was inevitable. “I must still repair my reputation with William.”
“I have done that for you,” Calvert said, then moved closer to Granger and put his hand on the back of Granger’s neck, using his nails to gently caress him.
“How did you do that?” Granger asked. Calvert leaned in to kiss him. Granger made to break off the contact so he could get his question answered, but Calvert would not let him. Their kiss grew from a light and caring embrace to one that was a battle, with both of them fighting for dominance using their mouths. As Granger’s rage abated, he gradually surrendered himself to Calvert, and smiled when that defeat resulted in a wonderful quarter-hour of lovemaking.
September 25, 1801
HMS Endymion
Spithead, England
The seas were very smooth, a fact Granger was quite glad of as it would make the transit for their passengers much more comfortable. He had taken his leave of Princess Amelia last night and parted reluctantly from Calvert this morning. He should have stayed aboard last night, but he could not bear the thought of giving up his final time here with Calvert. There was no telling where their paths would take them, and while it would seem that they would meet frequently, with Granger back in London and Calvert attached to the Court, the Fates were not always so kind.
“Their Majesties are approaching, my lord,” Austen said. He looked up to see the gig moving toward them, the Royal Standard flapping on her flagpole. They arrived at Endymion and were hoisted aboard by the bosun’s chairs, while at the same time the Royal Standard was raised to the main mast and the salutes began to fire off.
“Welcome aboard, Your Majesties,” Granger said.
“Thank you, Lord Brentwood,” the Queen said. “It appears to be a pleasant day for sailing.”
“The winds are currently with us, as is the weather, Your Majesty,” Granger said with a smile. “We will have to hope both of those factors continue.”
Carmella was there to speak to them, and that left Granger and Austen free to see that the people came aboard and were guided to their cabins. Granger had removed half of Endymion’s 24 pounders and put them in the hold, something any captain was loath to do, but it was the only way to create enough space to comfortably accommodate everyone. His officers had worked wonders, turning the gun deck into a series of cabins that were small, but quite roomy for a warship. LeFavre had spent hours over the past two days working out the menu and working with Andrews to make sure he had the supplies he needed. Granger grimaced as a steady stream of courtiers and officials boarded the frigate until his children arrived with their nurses and Mr. Pence. When he’d first taken them to sea, William had asked to climb up the chains just as Granger did when he boarded. Granger walked over to the rail and William looked up, nonverbally asking for permission to repeat the maneuver. Granger nodded his assent. William leapt for the chains and scrambled up with no problems. Alexander, having seen William board in that manner, opted to do the same thing himself, only he lost his footing and fell into the water.
Granger panicked for a few seconds as Alexander vanished under the water, and his concern was nothing compared to that of the boat’s crew, but in no time Alexander surfaced, swimming quite well. Instead of going back to the boat, he headed for the chains and made a second attempt. This one was successful. “You fell in,” William said, smirking at his brother.
“I was very impressed that despite falling in, you persevered and opted to climb up despite your setback,” Granger intervened. The nurses and Mr. Pence were hoisted up shortly after Charlotte and Elizabeth, and he dispatched them below along with his children.
He was quite relieved when his officers’ plans to allocate cabin space seemed to have been without error, and even more amazed that they’d been able to get everyone aboard and remain on the schedule he’d sketched out. “We’ve got everything stowed, my lord,” Austen said.
“Signal Amelia and St. Fiorenzo to weigh anchor and keep station on us,” Granger ordered. “Weigh anchor!”
“Aye aye, my lord,” Bligh said, since the anchor was his responsibility.
“Mr. Austen, topsails,” Granger ordered, and watched as the men scurried up to the top yards to release Endymion’s second largest sails. “We will have an easier time of things since the Channel Fleet is at sea.”
“Mr. Travers will be most grateful, my lord,” Austen said, as that poor lad was stuck directing the raising and lowering of their colors to passing ships.
Granger watched the other frigates and decided that they would require a bit of his attention, so he delegated sailing the Endymion. “Mr. Austen, you will take us out,” Granger said.
“Aye aye, my lord,” Austen said.
Granger watched the two other frigates getting underway. Just as Endymion was freed from the bottom and began to move forward, so too did St. Fiorenzo. “Mr. Genarro, signal Amelia to make haste.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Genarro responded. The signals were hoisted, and Amelia’s response seemed longer than a normal acknowledgement. “Sir, Amelia’s anchor is fouled.”
“Pass within hail of Amelia,” Granger ordered Austen, barely hiding his frustration, then grabbed his speaking trumpet and strode to the rail. “Captain Herbert! What is your status?”
“Our anchor is foul, my lord,” Herbert called back.
“Then you will have to cut your cable,” Granger said. He saw Herbert grimace, because giving up an anchor was never pleasant, and could be expensive if the Admiralty determined that the captain had not done enough to free it and opted to make Herbert pay for a new one. Still, Granger thought it was idiotic of Herbert to not take that step immediately rather than look like a miser when protecting the King.
“Aye aye, my lord,” he acknowledged. He turned and spoke to a large man, presumably the bosun, and in short order that huge man had taken an axe and severed the cable. Amelia sprang into action, and the three frigates sailed gently past St. Helens and into the Channel.
“Send to Amelia and St. Fiorenzo, course east northeast,” Granger told Genarro.
“Aye aye, sir,” he said. After that was acknowledged, he sent another signal, one that directed them to maintain station on Endymion, with St. Fiorenzo in the van and Amelia bringing up the rear. “Mr. Austen, let’s get the courses on her.”
“Aye aye, my lord,” Austen acknowledged. Granger watched as the other frigates followed suit, spreading their sails. Both of these ships had started their lives in France. Amelia was the newer of the two, having been built in 1785 to a plan by Sané. She was a bit smaller than St. Fiorenzo, which was built some three years before Amelia to a design by Coulomb. Amelia was commanded by Captain Charles Herbert, who was the second son of the Earl of Carnarvon. He was a handsome man, in his late twenties, and seemed quite attached to his secretary, who accompanied him wherever he went. Granger mentally rolled his eyes in frustration that Herbert could have an apparently close relationship with that man and no one seemed bothered by it, yet the wags consistently seemed to find ways to sexually link Granger and Calvert.
St. Fiorenzo was originally named Minerve, and was the lead ship of a class of several French frigates. She was designed with a rounder hull, which let her stow more supplies. This made her popular with her British captains, who were always at odds trying to find a place to store things, and it did not seem to make her slower. Her captain, Charles Patterson, was a rather nondescript man, the type of person you’d envision if you conjured up an image of a boring Royal Navy officer. Cornwallis had thoughtfully given him officers who were junior to him, so there was no question about the chain of command.
Granger greeted the King and Queen and their party when they came up onto the quarterdeck, then managed to excuse himself to attend to his little squadron and make sure they were maintaining their stations. “Mr. Austen, let’s get the topgallants on her,” Granger ordered.
Austen smiled back at him. “Aye aye, my lord.” Endymion was much faster than the other frigates, so this was a clear challenge to their captains. They would have to use their royals or staysails, in addition to their topgallants, to keep up with Endymion. Granger hid his grin as best he could as Patterson scrambled to match their speed, while Herbert seemed to find the pace much more easily. And so the three frigates sped up the Channel.
“Lord Brentwood, I wonder if I might have a word with you,” the Queen said. Her presence reminded Granger to make an entry in his log about being unable to reach Brighton.
“I am at Your Majesty’s disposal,” Granger said, and led her over toward the rail where they could gaze at the coast of England.
“I am quite impressed by your daughters,” she said.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Granger said.
“I hope you will forgive me for bringing up a potentially touchy subject, but is not the younger one, Lady Elizabeth, Gloucester’s natural daughter?” she asked.
“She is indeed, ma’am, but I hope you have seen no sign that I have treated her other than as my own. I truly feel as if she is, even though it is not my blood that flows in her veins,” Granger said uncomfortably. This was another example of how Caroline’s poor judgment and indiscretions continued to cause him problems. He wanted nothing more than to acknowledge Elizabeth as his own, which he had done, and then to let the matter die there. It seemed that was not going to happen.
“Lord Brentwood, please do not get upset,” the Queen said, which made Granger even more frantic, since the Queen had seen him become disconcerted.
“I fear that where my offspring are involved, I lose my normal ability to shield my emotions, ma’am,” Granger said.
The Queen actually laughed, which was quite rare for her to do in public like this. “My lord, you are in good company.” Granger laughed with her until she continued. “I have seen nothing to suggest that you have been anything but a loving and devoted father to all of your children.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Granger said. “I will count that as one of my best accomplishments.”
“The reason I raised the issue was that I was thinking that it may be nice to have Lady Elizabeth spend some time with Princess Charlotte,” the Queen said. “It is always nice when one is a child to have someone of a similar age to play with.”
“Your Majesty flatters both me and my daughter,” Granger said. As things stood now, Princess Charlotte would one day be the Queen, and having Elizabeth grow up with her as her playmate was an amazing opportunity both for Elizabeth and for his entire family. “I would be quite amenable to such an arrangement, but I worry that it would not meet with His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales’s approval.”
“I do not think he will have an issue with it, but you are welcome to raise it with him as soon as you have a chance,” the Queen said. “In the meantime, I will make arrangements to invite her over to see if they get along.”
“I will alert my children's tutor and Lady Elizabeth's nurse,” Granger said.
September 26, 1801
HMS Endymion
The Thames, England
Granger was glad that his normal streak of luck had held. The voyage to London had been smoother and faster than he could have hoped for. They’d reached Dover by nightfall, hove to until morning, and reached Margate by noon. “Signal St. Fiorenzo and Amelia: Thank you. You may proceed.”
“Aye aye, my lord,” Travers said. “St. Fiorenzo and Amelia acknowledged.” It was dashed unfair that those captains would have no time in London.
Granger looked back as those two frigates turned about and began their return trip to Spithead. It was unfortunate for them that the winds that had been fair for London would now be foul for their return voyage, but it couldn’t be helped. “We will dock next to the Tower, Mr. Austen,” Granger ordered.
“Aye aye, my lord,” Austen said. The Royal party was on deck, enjoying the nice weather, and watching as their Capital City came into view. Endymion was finally secured next to the Tower at 4:00pm and was met by the Royal carriages as well as a squadron of the Life Guards. In reverse order of how they’d boarded, his passengers prepared to take their leave with their various possessions.
“Brentwood, thank you for your hospitality, what what,” the King said.
“It was a pleasure to be able to host Your Majesty,” Granger said, smiling at his sovereign.
“You will have to come see us at Windsor, and bring Signora Bellini with you,” he said.
“I will do that, Your Majesty,” Granger said. He bid adieu to the Queen, then the princesses, and felt real relief that he hadn’t had to deal with any of the Royal princes on this voyage. After they disembarked, Granger decided that his officers could deal with the rest of the entourage and their baggage. “Mr. Austen!”
“My lord?” Austen asked and hurried over to see him.
“I am going ashore. If I am needed, you can contact me at my home in Portland Place. As soon as we have cleared out the rest of these people and their items, I want this ship returned to her normal state,” Granger ordered.
“Aye aye, my lord,” he said. Granger saw his own carriage waiting for him. He almost sighed out loud at the crowd around it and noted all the footmen there to help keep order. If Granger had had a huge ego, seeing that his admirers were more demonstrative and louder than those greeting the King would have substantially fueled it. Because he did not, it made the whole situation tedious at best. “I’ll detach a squad of marines to escort you to your carriage.”
Granger almost growled at his first lieutenant, but managed to control his annoyance at his admiring fans. “I fear they will be most welcome.” He assembled his children and Carmella and led them down to the carriage, relegating Mr. Pence and the nurses to the other coach they’d sent for servants and baggage. Winkler, Jacobs, and LeFavre chose to sit on the roof of their coach. The crowds cheered wildly for Granger and his party, with Granger opting to set a good example for his children by raising his hat to acknowledge them. Carmella waved at them, as did the children once they got the hang of things, and then with the aid of the marines and the footmen they were able to escape into the narrow alleys of the City of London, then to the wider boulevards of Westminster.
“This carriage is sprung much more nicely than my prior vehicle,” Carmella said.
“I think you will like your new carriage and your new home,” Granger said, and smiled at her.
“They are nice, but I am most happy with my new family,” she said, and smiled at Granger’s children.
“We are happy you are here too,” William said a bit stiffly, but only because he was nervous. Granger smiled at him to thank him for working his way through his discomfort. He’d been very nice to Carmella on the voyage, and was putting himself out there now, when she most needed to feel welcome. Carmella patted William’s knee in an affectionate way, while the carriage rumbled on towards Portland Place.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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