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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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 - 20. Chapter 20

A Thanksgiving (US) present for my long-suffering Granger fans.

November 9, 1801

The Thames

London, England

 

The shore boat had begun its trek from the Admiralty Steps shortly after dawn, deftly dodging the morning traffic on the Thames. It was a large boat that was packed with baggage, yet even that boat didn’t provide enough space. Following them was yet another boat containing even more items. One would expect a lady to require a lot of luggage and would thus assume that it was Caroline who had packed so much, but the bulk of the items on these two shore boats were Cornwallis’s. The weather was cold and windy; the days of pleasant cruising like he’d had on Endymion were clearly over as fall changed into winter. Fortunately, their boat had a cabin to house them, and even more fortunately, that cabin did not smell rancid like most shore boat cabins did. “I certainly hope there is enough room on board our vessel to hold all of these items,” Daventry observed, letting some annoyance show through his smooth shell because it had taken extra time and planning to load up Cornwallis’s items.

“Brentwood is in charge of our passage, so we will leave it to him to make sure our baggage is properly stowed,” the Marquess Cornwallis stated.

“I am confident that we will have ample room, despite your lordship’s insistence on bringing your own carriage,” Granger said, and much like Daventry he struggled to hide his irritation with this Marquess.

“I want to make sure I have my own conveyance,” he replied, daring to give Granger a foul look. Granger had dealt with him intermittently about this mission and found him to be inherently lazy and focused mostly on his own comfort. “If you do not vex me, I will allow you to share my vehicle.”

“I have already arranged my own transportation, but I appreciate your offer,” Granger said with a slight bit of smugness.

“That means you are free to vex Cornwallis,” Daventry said, making Granger and Caroline chuckle. Cornwallis was not amused.

“I will remind you that I am the head of our delegation,” Cornwallis said huffily.

“And I will take this opportunity to remind you that I am not part of your delegation at all,” Granger stated firmly. He was not about to let Cornwallis assume the role of his superior officer.

“And I am here to consult and advise,” Daventry said. “You should disabuse yourself of the notion that you have any authority over me at all.”

Sensing that tempers were beginning to flare, Caroline stepped in to calm the waters. “Based on the roles you gentlemen have outlined, I am hoping you will now be happy in the knowledge that there is no formal hierarchy,” Caroline observed. Granger winked at her, and the rest of them opted to continue their ride in silence.

The boats approached a beautiful brig with sleek lines, one that had just been completed. “You are now approaching HM brig Hermes,” Granger announced.

“That ship appears to be new,” Daventry observed. “How did you manage to find such a vessel?”

“I bought it,” Granger said casually, as if such a purchase was as inconsequential as buying a new cravat.

“Indeed?” Caroline asked.

“This ship is designed to serve as either a merchant ship or a privateer. With the war over, there is less demand for such a vessel,” Granger said.

“Why would that lessen the need for a ship like this?” Caroline asked.

“Because she is built to be fast, and that means she cannot carry as much cargo,” Granger said pleasantly. “Now that there is peace, her need to either escape from predators or hunt for prey is diminished. Slower but more cavernous vessels will be more economical.”

“Did the builder name her Hermes or did you?” Daventry asked.

“I did,” Granger said. “Your interest in the classic Greeks reminded me that Hermes was the god of, among other things, travelers, merchants, and commerce, which seemed an ideal moniker for this vessel.”

“I am glad my presence has furthered your education,” Daventry said with a smile. “And what will you do with this ship?”

“After Hermes has dropped us off at Le Havre, she will sail to the Mediterranean where she will acquire marble and other materials required for the completion of my home on Cleveland Row,” Granger said.

“Buying a ship for such a purpose would appear to be an unnecessary luxury,” Cornwallis sniffed.

Granger eyed him dismissively. “In fact, the costs of conveyance using contract merchant ships are much higher, and in this way, Hermes can focus solely on the requirements of my architect, Mr. Nash.” He turned to Daventry and Caroline. “I apologize for discussing something so crass as the cost of shipping goods.” Cornwallis looked both furious and embarrassed.

“We will excuse your faux pas this once,” Daventry said. Their conversation was fortunately truncated when they arrived at Hermes. Caroline took a bosun’s chair while Granger and Daventry quickly climbed aboard. Hermes’ low freeboard made that much easier than on Endymion. Cornwallis followed in the bosun’s chair as soon as Caroline had been deposited on the deck.

“This is Captain van Hjelmeland,” Granger said, smiling at the handsome Norwegian.

“It is good to see you again, Captain,” Daventry said. “It is even better to see you in such good health.”

“Thank you, my lord,” van Hjelmeland said.

“You speak English very well, but you are not a Briton,” Caroline observed, more of a question.

“Your ladyship is quite correct,” van Hjelmeland said politely. “I was wounded at the Battle of Copenhagen and Lord Brentwood was kind enough to spirit me back to this lovely country. I had given up hope that I would live as my wound had become gangrenous. Yet now I am healthy.”

“That is impossible,” Cornwallis said. “There is no cure for gangrene.”

“Doctor Jackson,” Granger said, gesturing at the doctor who was on the other side of the deck, “has done research on that disease and discovered an ancient cure.”

“Bah,” Cornwallis said in disbelief.

“At the risk of contradicting your lordship, the fact that I am standing here before you speaks to his skills,” van Hjelmeland said. Granger was finding this conversation annoying, and that was exacerbated by the frigid winds that blew around them on the deck.

“We will leave you to stow our baggage and get us underway,” Granger said to van Hjelmeland. “If you will follow me, I will show you to your quarters,” Granger said to the others.

Winkler and Jacobs appeared to help guide them below. There were five cabins arrayed around a central area that housed a dining room table and china cabinet. The cabin in Hermesstern was smaller in size and was assigned to van Hjelmeland. The two cabins on each side of the ship were very large and furnished nicely. They weren’t quite as luxurious as one might find on an East Indiaman, but they were close. “These quarters are opulent!” Daventry exclaimed.

“I must agree,” Cornwallis said with a smile. “How will you haul cargo with all of this space consumed by cabins?

“Once we have been landed, Hermes will make a brief stop at Spithead and unload all of this furniture and other accoutrements,” Granger said. “These cabins will then be reconfigured for the ship’s officers, who are currently being housed below.”

“Ingenious,” Caroline decreed. Granger migrated to his own cabin, which was adjacent to van Hjelmeland’s, determined to enjoy some solitude. He noticed a small door in the wall and smiled when he saw that it led into van Hjelmeland’s sleeping cabin.

“We can have that door removed if you would prefer, my lord,” Winkler said with a smirk.

“There is no reason to spend time on such a trifling matter,” Granger said, trying not to blush.

“As you wish, my lord,” Winkler said. Granger allowed himself to doze off in his bed until he felt the ship begin to move. He opted to brave the cold to go see how the ship handled. He arrived just in time to see her sweetly manage a bend in the river, then smiled as she deftly maneuvered around other merchant ships.

“She handles like a dream, my lord,” van Hjelmeland said.

“That will be good news for you should you encounter any pirates,” Granger observed.

“I have spent some time canvassing the men about your previous encounters, my lord,” van Hjelmeland said. “It has put me in greater awe of your lordship than I was before, and I thought that was impossible.”

“You know better than to believe sea tales,” Granger said good naturedly.

“I think that since we do not have a target on us like your lordship did, we will be able to avoid the cretins, but if they do attack, I am confident that the guns we have will at least keep them at bay,” he said. Granger had armed the ship with two 12-pounder carronades and a six-pounder long gun on each side.

“I suspect that will enable you to at least deter them enough that they will go bother someone else,” Granger said pleasantly, making van Hjelmeland laugh.

“I think that the most valuable part of this ship is the crew you have blessed me with, my lord,” he said. Granger had found some 20 of his former crewmen languishing at the Abbey and had offered them posts on this vessel. “Such a large crew is unheard of on a merchant vessel.”

“That is probably true, but you will be transporting very valuable items, and I want to make sure you have adequate resources to fend off any challenges,” Granger said.

“I will do my best, my lord,” he replied nervously.

“I have the utmost confidence in you, Captain,” Granger said with a smile. “I noticed that there was a door between my cabin and yours.”

“I am sorry, my lord,” van Hjelmeland said, and looked horrified. “I will send someone down to fix that at once.”

“I would prefer that you leave it as it is,” Granger said, then smiled at the handsome Norwegian. “I may get lucky and you may end up stumbling into my cabin at night.” Granger wasn’t sure if the one sexual encounter he’d had with van Hjelmeland was a fluke or not, but he was rather horny and the Norwegian was very handsome.

Van Hjelmeland grinned. “I cannot wait for the sun to set, my lord.

“I will leave you to command your ship with the proviso that you join us when dinner is ready,” Granger said.

“Aye aye, my lord,” he responded.

Granger went below again and found his three traveling companions sitting around the table enjoying a drink. “Here my lord,” Winkler said, taking his coat.

“Thank you, Winkler,” Granger said. Right after he sat down a captain’s servant put a glass in his hand.

“The service on board your vessel is commendable,” Cornwallis said. “I feel qualified to render that judgment since I have traveled in many ships during my career.”

“Thank you for your kind words,” Granger said. He eyed the man and pondered that even as Cornwallis flattered him, he still made him a bit anxious.

“I suspect your trips to North America were especially cold and windy,” Daventry asked, subtly throwing a barb at Cornwallis who had surrendered his army at Yorktown, thus ending the war with the Americans.

“Yet they were not as long as my trek to India,” Cornwallis said, reminding them that while he’d been an abject failure in America, he was much more successful in India. All of them had slight smiles on their faces, but the tension in the cabin was quite high.

“I hope your lordship puts the same amount of energy and effort into concluding this treaty,” Daventry said, clearly taunting Cornwallis but in a way that was veiled by a polite veneer.

Their conversation was fortunately interrupted by the arrival of Captain van Hjelmeland, followed immediately by dinner. “Your timing is excellent,” Granger said, and gestured for him to take his seat.

“It pays to have spies who alert me when food is almost ready, my lord,” van Hjelmeland said, making them all chuckle.

“I will happily overlook that security breach,” Granger said. He played the host, pointing out the various dishes that LeFavre had prepared, while Caroline acted as his hostess. Granger was both pleased and uncomfortable that she had taken that role. He and Caroline had thrown enough dinner parties that they worked together seamlessly. At the same time, Granger sensed that Caroline’s feelings for him had not abated like his had for her. If he asked her to put their past behind them and to return to his side as his wife, he was almost certain she would accept. That he had no intention of doing so made things a little awkward. While they ate, they engaged in conversation that mostly focused on gossip, and unfortunately that sidelined the Norwegian captain, who was unaware of those who had influence in Britain. Van Hjelmeland did not seem to mind, as he was more focused on eating.

They finished dinner and the servants began to remove their plates, taking great care to make sure no one noticed them doing it. “My lord, thank you for an excellent dinner. If you will excuse me, I must attend to the ship,” van Hjelmeland said. His departure caused them all to stand, thus giving the servants an opening to complete their job.

Granger smiled at him. “By all means.” Van Hjelmeland left as fast as he could politely do so, heading up on deck to tend to Hermes. Granger continued smiling, reflecting on the bond between a captain and his ship, then he returned his attention on his traveling companions

“How did you find this Viking?” Cornwallis asked, breaking into Granger’s daydream. They turned back to find the table completely cleared and set with new linens and glasses.

“Some cognac?” Granger offered, prompting the four of them to take their seats. A servant poured the cognac while Granger answered Cornwallis’s question. “I was conveying Lords Daventry, Cavendish, and Whitworth to Copenhagen when we were first intercepted by a Danish cutter. Captain van Hjelmeland was the person I interacted with.”

“He was most accommodating and helped us find our way to the Danish capital,” Daventry added.

“He also guided me to the Amalienborg Palace,” Granger added. “After the Battle of Copenhagen, I stopped briefly in Denmark on my way back to England. I found that he was badly wounded and desperate to escape from the Danes.”

“Was he some malcontent?” Cornwallis asked in alarm.

“He was not,” Granger said firmly. “In fact, he was dismissed from service in the Danish navy because he refused to obey orders to reactivate ships that had already surrendered. In essence, he put honor above orders.”

“And that is when your doctor was able to perform this so-called miracle cure on him that allowed him to recover from this deadly disease?” Cornwallis asked. Granger was surprised that he would be so snippy. Perhaps he’d had too much to drink.

“He did,” Granger said, then turned to Caroline. “My dear, I am going to speak of things which you may find disconcerting.”

She smiled. “If I become uncomfortable, I will return to my cabin.”

“Excellent,” Granger said, then returned his focus to Cornwallis. “I will explain to you how Dr. Jackson cured the captain’s gangrene.”

“If you think that is necessary,” he grumbled.

“I do, since your comments indicate that you do not believe that I was honest when I told you he did in fact cure a gangrenous wound, an attitude that is highly insulting,” Granger said.

“And one in which satisfaction could be asked if you were as boorish as your insulter,” Daventry added, just making all of them angrier.

“Dr. Jackson acquired a certain type of maggot. The patient is placed in a warm room that has been sealed, then the maggots are placed into the wound. The creatures will only devour diseased flesh, not healthy flesh. The maggots grow huge from feasting on gangrenous flesh, and then when the wound is cleared of that foul disease, the maggots are removed with piss,” Granger said, staring at Cornwallis. “I was trying to avoid relaying such a lurid explanation that would upset my wife, but since you would not accept what I said as the truth, I had no other choice.”

Cornwallis swallowed, and actually looked a bit afraid. “Lord Brentwood, I am sorry if I insulted you. I assure you that was not my intention. I have seen many men die from that disease, so to think it can be cured seemed impossible.” Cornwallis had done the noble thing in the end. He had extended an apology for insulting Granger’s honor.

“I accept your apology, Cornwallis,” Granger said. “I think I will retire to my cabin.” That served to break up their party.

Granger lay in his bed, staring at the deck above him, pleased with this ship he had bought for quite a bargain. The shipbuilder had been frantic to sell her because news of peace had caused her price to plummet. At the same time, Nash had been fretting about getting just the right kind of marble and other stones, as well as various other building materials. By acquiring Hermes, Granger had solved that problem and had also given van Hjelmeland and his sailors at the Abbey some meaningful employment. He lay there and found that he was content, a feeling he did not experience that often. His pleasant mood was interrupted when he saw van Hjelmeland opening the small door between their cabins. “Is it alright that I am here, my lord?”

“It is very alright,” Granger said, glad that he’d had the foresight to slap some lanolin on his ass. He patted the bed, telling the Norwegian to shed his clothes and climb into his cot. He had not known what to expect from van Hjelmeland as a sexual partner but found him to be quite gentle and loving. He rolled Granger onto his side and slid up behind him, slowly forcing his cock into Granger, then once he was in, he began to pump in and out of Granger’s ass while simultaneously caressing Granger’s body. Slowly he picked up his speed, letting the excitement build, and when it came close to a crescendo, he stroked Granger’s dick in time with his own thrusts, bringing them both to a spectacular orgasm. “That was wonderful.”

“I thought so too, my lord,” he replied. “I hope you will not think me rude if I leave you.”

“You have done your duty in this cabin, so you are dismissed,” Granger said playfully. Van Hjelmeland gave him a sweet kiss, then vanished through the door between their cabins.

November 11, 1801

HM brig Hermes

LeHavre, France

 

“That was a very fast passage,” Daventry said as they watched the French port expand as they got closer. It was a pretty day, with clear skies. If it weren’t so cold and windy, it would be ideal. “I like your new ship.”

“As do I,” Granger agreed. He scanned the harbor and spotted Corneille, the ship that had conveyed him back to England. “Perhaps my friend Monsieur Guebertin is here.”

“I am sure he is,” Daventry said, then laughed. “I wonder what kind of nefarious commercial plan he has in store for you.”

“When he discovers I am here, he will think of something,” Granger said with dread. Hermes was small and agile enough to dock next to the pier, which made it easy to disembark. Before Granger could gather his party together, he saw the mayor hoisting himself on board. “Welcome aboard, Monsieur Bolbec!”

“I am so pleased to see your lordship again,” the mayor said, then gave Granger a kiss on each cheek in the French fashion. Granger just smiled at him. “I have come to offer you accommodations at my home until you begin your trek to Paris.”

“That is most kind of you,” Granger said. He led the mayor below and introduced him to his party, then they made to exit the ship. “Captain, we will be ashore at the mayor’s house.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” van Hjelmeland said. “We will unload your various items.”

“I am much obliged,” Granger said. He got into the carriage with Cornwallis, Daventry, Caroline, and Bolbec and they began their short trek. “Monsieur Bolbec was also kind enough to allow me to stay with him when I was waiting to sail back to England on parole.”

“I must thank you, Monsieur, for helping my husband on his way home,” Caroline said.

“Having seen how beautiful you are, Madame, I can understand now why his lordship was so anxious to return to England,” Bolbec replied, attempting to ape the flowery language of the ancien régime.

“You are too kind,” Caroline said.

They got to the house and settled in, then put up with Bolbec’s provincial conversation throughout dinner. Granger was about to head up to his room when Bolbec’s butler interrupted him. “My lord, there is a Monsieur Guebertin to see you.”

“Excellent,” Granger said. “Is there a room where I can receive him?”

“I will show you to Monsieur Bolbec’s library, then send Monsieur Guebertin in, my lord,” the man said. Granger followed him to a small and rather dark room, but it would serve.

“My lord!” Guebertin said as he entered the room. He embraced Granger warmly.

“It is good to see you,” Granger said. “How have you been? Are you still running errands for Monsieur de Talleyrand?”

“Of course, my lord,” he said, pretending to be annoyed. “It is difficult to make money when I am constantly being sent on diplomatic missions.”

“I would expect that you survive anyway,” Granger joked.

“Actually, my lord, that is why I came to see you,” Guebertin said, his expression changing to one that was sly. “I have spoken to the captain of your ship and he referred me to you.”

“And what cunning plot have you conjured up?” Granger asked.

“We have in Le Havre a huge supply of excellent French wine, my lord,” he said. “I was thinking that if perhaps you wanted to purchase some, I could follow Hermes back to England and assist in carrying it.”

“In other words, you want me to get you past the port authorities because, while peace has been announced, trade has not yet resumed,” Granger concluded.

“One might look at it that way, my lord,” he said, making Granger chuckle. “The benefit to you is that you could stock your own cellar at bargain prices, and I am willing to pay the customs duties that are incurred.”

“And you are sure this is good wine, and not just swill?” Granger asked.

“There are many varieties of grapes, and it is the best, my lord,” Guebertin answered. “We have been stockpiling it for just such a purpose.” This was the benefit of being first, of arriving before prices went up after trade resumed, and that was why traveling to Paris with Granger was so attractive to Caroline. Granger was not all that worried about customs barriers, and relished the thought of not only stocking his own wine cellar, but being able to share his bounty with his various friends back at home. He spent the next two hours working out an arrangement with Guebertin then writing orders for van Hjelmeland that should allow both ships to land their cargoes in Portsmouth without interference.

He tried to head to his room but he was stopped once again, this time by Bolbec. “My lord, this just arrived for you from Paris.”

“Thank you, Monsieur,” Granger said as he took the note. He recognized Talleyrand’s handwriting, so he opted to take it up to his room and open it there.

My Dear Lord Brentwood,

I hope your voyage to Le Havre was safe and uneventful. I am pleased to welcome you back to France under much more pleasant circumstances than the last time you were here.

A carriage will arrive for you the day after you receive this message to convey you to Paris. It will bring you and your wife directly to my home where it will give me great pleasure to welcome you. I have made other arrangements for Marquess Cornwallis and his party to establish himself in the city, so I expect that he will make his own way there.

I have so enjoyed exchanging letters with you, even though war has raged all around us. It has made me long to see you.

Your dearest friend,

Talleyrand

Copyright © 2023 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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Only Lord Brentwood could turn a logistical nightmare like hauling Marquess Cornwallis’s entire wardrobe on wheels into a masterclass of leadership and diplomacy. The way he navigates Cornwallis’s aristocratic excess without losing his cool? Pure genius. Granger’s patience rivals that of Saint Alphonsus Liguori himself—though even Alphonsus might have lost his temper here. Also, let’s be real, I still don’t trust his wife one bit—she’s clearly up to something. That woman is as charming as a snake in a ball gown. Brilliantly written, as always!

 

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