HMS Belvidera - 3. Chapter 3

July 8, 1795

“Captain the Honorable George Granger,” the chamberlain announced. Granger nodded to him and then walked into the large room where the King held his audiences. Granger fought to keep the pain he felt from emerging, thanking the gods that it was only his head that was pounding and that the nausea he had felt that morning had already dissipated. All of this discomfort was the result of a dinner party at Lord Brookstone's house, a dinner party which, in addition to his physical malaise, had yielded Granger yet another midshipman.

Brookstone's younger son, a charming young man with bright red hair and a willowy 15-year-old body, seemed intelligent enough, but the ultimate deciding factor was his ability to play the flute. It would make a nice trio, what with Cavendish's violin and his own clarinet, for the voyage ahead. Bertram Brookstone, a long and exalted-sounding name for such a playful young man.

Granger forced his mind back to the work at hand as he calmly wound his way through the group of people here at St. James' Palace. The room seemed remarkably bright today, but that could be a result of his reverie last night as well. He took in the gilded accents on the walls, and the large dais done in blue material and gold moldings. He finally reached the throne and bowed low to his sovereign, then approached the King and bowed low again. “Captain Granger, we are pleased to see you again,” the King said.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said.

“We understand you are to sail soon?” he asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I am awaiting orders to that effect from Lord Spencer,” Granger said calmly, swallowing the nervousness that always accompanied an audience with the King.

“If we do not see you before you depart, a good voyage to you Captain,” the King said.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said. Recognizing that the interview was over, he bowed again, and then backed away gracefully from the throne lest he commit the grave insult of showing his back to the King, then bowed again before moving on. Granger felt positively hypocritical, as he certainly wasn't here to see the King. He was here to see Lord Spencer, to see if he could get some clue as to when the secretive First Lord was planning to visit Belvidera.

He headed toward a group of men wearing blue naval uniforms, but instead of Lord Spencer, he found Lord Hood. “Granger, you're certainly spending a lot of time socializing,” Hood said.

“It is impossible for me to resist the opportunity to see Your Lordship,” Granger said, with the playful tone he used when talking to Hood.

“You have been spending too much time with politicians. You are beginning to spout rot just as they do,” he groused.

“I fear Your Lordship is right,” Granger said, pretending to be sad.

“You looking for Spencer? Want to know what time he's coming out to visit you, eh?” Hood asked.

“It would have been a most convenient coincidence, my lord,” Granger said, hitting Hood with his smile.

“Well he's not here, but I am, and I am to accompany him,” Hood said.

“I don't suppose you would be willing to give me an idea of when to expect you, my lord?” Granger asked.

“It would almost be worth it to keep you on pins and needles Granger, but I suspect you have enough on your plate what with planning for a long voyage. We should be there around 10:00 in the morning,” Hood said.

“I must thank Your Lordship for telling me,” Granger said.

“Are you ready for sea?” he asked.

“Almost, my lord,” Granger said. He saw Hood's brows narrow. Admirals were constantly trying to keep captains from spending too much time in port. “We should be complete for sea by Friday. We have only to load our final stores.”

“You've worked fast Granger,” Hood said approvingly. “I'll look forward to seeing how you've done tomorrow.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Granger said, and then took his leave. He'd gotten the information that he wanted, and now it was time to head to Belvidera to make sure she was ready. He strolled out of the palace and across Pall Mall to the waterfront, where Jeffers was waiting for him, ready to take him to the ship in his gig.

“Good morning sir,” Jeffers said.

“Good morning,” Granger said, then got in and sat in the stern, ignoring the crew and Jeffers, letting his own thoughts absorb him. He'd convinced Caroline that he absolutely had to spend the night aboard tonight, and he was looking forward to it. It had been more than a week since he'd gotten to spend any intimate time with Calvert, and Granger found that he yearned for him, body and soul. The gig rounded the bend in the Thames and there was Belvidera, patiently awaiting her captain. Her sleek hull and raked masts seemed to scream for release, to be let out of the port and freed to prowl the seas. “Take us around the ship,” Granger ordered.

The gig began to maneuver around Belvidera, distracted only by Jeffers' answer of the hail from the deck. He saw that they'd made great progress on the ship's outright appearance. The painting was done, and the gold leaf was positively gleaming, making the ship shine and sparkle. Bailey, as Master, was responsible for her trim, and he'd obviously moved the stores around to keep her level in the water. Granger looked up at the stern windows that separated his cabin from the elements, noting that they glistened in the sunlight. The ship appeared spotless, perfectly turned out. Granger began to make mental notes of things still to do, but all he could find to complain about was the lack of Turk's Head knots in the shrouds.

The gig hooked on to Belvidera's main chains and he climbed up the side, fighting back the smile that always threatened him when he received the honors due a captain, with the four sideboys and the bosun's mates with their whistles. He lost his battle when he saw Calvert standing there at the end of this gauntlet of honors, smiling himself, so glad was he to see his captain.

“Good morning, Mr. Calvert,” Granger said formally.

“Good morning sir,” Calvert said. His smile was suppressed but the twinkling of his eyes was not.

“We should expect Lord Spencer around 10:00 tomorrow morning,” Granger said, getting straight to the point. “Lord Hood will be with him.”

“Yes sir,” Calvert said.

“I'll see you in my cabin at once,” Granger ordered. He noticed the gleaming decks, so clean had Calvert got them, and heard Calvert's shoes plodding on the deck as he followed Granger back to his cabin. The marine saluted smartly as Granger breezed past him, and past a surprised Winkler, and headed straight for his sleeping cabin. Then they were in his sleeping cabin, the door was closed, and they were together. “God, how I missed you,” Granger said.

“I missed you too,” Calvert said as he followed Granger's lead and dropped his trousers.

“We don't have much time now, there is much to do, but I need to be with you first,” Granger said, exposing himself emotionally. Then their lips met, an urgent almost desperate kiss, their bodies pressing against each other. They were fully clothed from the waist up, and from the knees down, so it was only at their groins that they could feel the naked skin of the other. The kiss fueled their passions, until Granger could stand it no more. He turned away from Calvert, offering himself to him.

Granger waited for the familiar feel of the lanolin, then Calvert's cock, but instead he felt something soft and wet. He looked back to see Calvert's face buried in his crack as he ran his tongue around Granger's hole, using the tip to tease him, and the licking motions to drive him wild. The feel of his tongue was stimulating, almost too much so. “God, Francis, you have to fuck me,” Granger finally panted.

Then came the lanolin and the familiar feel as Calvert stuffed his big dick into Granger's ass. Granger felt the penetration and let himself go, let himself fully enjoy it, doing everything except making noise. In fact, the only noise was the soft but urgent exhale from Granger's mouth, the air seemingly pushed out with every one of Calvert's thrusts, and the muffled “unghs” from Calvert. And then they came, so in touch with each other and each other's bodies that they exploded in perfect sync. Granger collapsed onto his cot, neatly dodging the pool of cum he'd just shot, while Calvert fell on top of him playfully. “That was magnificent,” Calvert said, grinning.

“It was, it always is,” Granger said, smiling back. “But now we must pull ourselves together and you must show me the ship.”

“There is much to do, but much has been accomplished,” Calvert said proudly as he led Granger from his cabin and out onto the gun deck. Granger stood and looked forward, the deck brightly lit from the open gun ports. There on each side were 14 guns, with the deck newly scrubbed and the sides newly painted. The other two guns were behind him, hidden in his cabin. Granger walked the length of the deck, taking in every detail, looking for any flaw just like the First Lord and Lord Hood would do tomorrow.

“That breeching is frayed,” Granger said, his eagle eye catching the fraying rope on the number four gun. Calvert, so irked at having overlooked something, almost turned red with anger. Granger smiled inwardly, as that was the plight of every first lieutenant, to be constantly exposed to some error that may incur the captain's wrath. They went below to the main deck and while the smell was stronger here, it wasn't overwhelming like it had been. The decks were clean, the hammocks were stowed, and whole place had an orderliness that had been lacking before. Granger smiled. There were no men here sleeping, or skylarking. They were all too focused on perfecting the ship.

The day went on like that, with Granger poring over every detail of Belvidera, from her prow with its heads, to her taffrail where her flagstaff sported a new flag. Then he led Calvert below to his cabin for supper, and to catch up on the issues with the most important part of Belvidera. And that was where the biggest change was, in the men. “You have certainly improved the morale of the crew,” Granger observed, as they dined on one of Lefavre's fabulous dinners. Granger thanked his lucky stars for the thousandth time that he'd been lucky enough to find such a talented French chef.

“You were right sir,” Calvert responded simply. “You told us that if we fed them, clothed them, and gave them some leadership, they'd respond. There were a few bad apples, and I took the liberty of releasing them to the press while you were ashore.”

Granger stared at him carefully. That was definitely a captain's prerogative. It wasn't like Calvert to overstep his bounds. “Why did you feel compelled to do that without seeking approval first?”

“I'm sorry sir. The Impressment Officer was here, and there had been a few incidents with a few of the men. I had an opportunity to get rid of them, four men in all, and I think it had a salutary effect on the others.”

“How so?” Granger asked.

“These men have pride in their ship, sir. They've been well fed and gotten decent clothes, and they know your reputation. They want to be here. Having those four men removed to go God knows where sent a message to them, that if they didn't behave they may end up on a different ship,” Calvert said.

“Well I think you did the right thing, but in the future I expect to be consulted first,” Granger said. It was amazingly good judgment, and once again it made Granger feel guilty that Calvert was here when he should have his own command. He had so much to offer his country.

“Mr. Grafton is the second lieutenant, not third sir,” Calvert said as he continued to fill him in on what he'd missed. “His commission is older.”

“Was Carslake disappointed?” Granger asked. He felt incredibly guilty. These were his officers, and he should have been here more, to know what was going on.

“No sir,” Calvert said. “Nothing really seems to get to Carslake, other than slackness of the men.” Calvert took a bite and chewed before he spoke again. “I think he's achieved a level that he never thought he'd get to. He was only a master's mate a few years ago, and now he's a commissioned officer.”

“He's a very reliable and competent officer,” Granger said, thinking that those plaudits were admirable in a lieutenant but not enough to make a man a good captain. “I picked up a new midshipman.” Calvert just looked at him, waiting for Granger to continue. “Bertram Brookstone, Lord Brookstone's son. He plays the flute.”

“So you brought him aboard for his musical talents?” Calvert teased.

“Absolutely. We have a long voyage ahead and I wouldn't want to get bored,” Granger said, smiling back at Calvert.

“I'll keep you entertained,” Calvert joked back. They finished their dinner and retired to Granger's sleeping cabin. This time they stripped their clothes off completely, so they could fully enjoy each other. Granger made Calvert lie on his bed, and then he began to slowly kiss his entire body. He started at his long neck, focusing on the side that had not been marred by his wound from the Zenith, nibbling on it and making Calvert giggle and moan at the same time. Then he licked Calvert's smooth chest, flicking his small nipples with his tongue before moving lower to his abdomen with its big scar from his other wound, Granger found his way down to Calvert's crotch. His cock was erect and big, standing out proudly from his dark brown pubic bush. Granger took him into his mouth, savoring the sensations, relishing Calvert's feel and his taste.

Calvert moaned softly, enjoying the attention until he had enough. He pulled Granger up to his mouth and kissed him, then rolled over on top of him. “I love this, being with you,” Granger said into his ear softly. Granger spread his legs and bent his knees, using his heels to push his ass up enough to welcome Calvert's long dick inside him. And then they were coupled, with Calvert moving slowly and lovingly in and out of him, Calvert's pubic bone and abdomen grinding against Granger's cock with each thrust. They went on like that for what seemed like hours, until their bodies were too fueled, too excited to last any longer. They came in a simultaneous orgasm, one that was almost seismic, and then lay there enjoying each other's company, just being together.

July 9, 1795

It was 10:30am and there was still no sign of Spencer. They'd been ready at 9:00am, the men excited and giddy at first. But waiting for 90 minutes already had become tedious, so Calvert had found some additional work for them to do to keep busy. It was a warm and muggy morning, with a light haze obscuring much of London. Granger had stationed a man at the main royal yard, his mission to keep an eye out for the ornate barge the First Lord would undoubtedly use. Granger paced the deck with Calvert, trying to do something to ease his nervous energy. He noted how much longer Belvidera's quarterdeck was than Intrepid's, and how much more comfortable it was to pace on her spacious deck.

“Why do you think the First Lord is visiting us, sir?” Calvert asked.

“My father thinks his purpose is two-fold. The first is to see how much we've accomplished. Evidently Belvidera's prior state was well known.” The earl had told Granger that all glasses in the fleet had been trained on Belvidera when she reached the Nore, and her slovenly appearance had caused much ridicule. “The other is a show of confidence in us.”

“Deck there!” came the cry from the masthead. “Barge rounding the bend.”

“You have the salute ready?” Granger asked, knowing that Calvert did.

“Yes sir,” he said, almost irritated. They watched patiently as the barge approached and was hailed, then hooked on. Granger stood impassively with his officers on the quarterdeck as Spencer pulled himself aboard. The shrilling whistles of the bosun's mates, along with the four ruffles from the drums, were soon drowned out as the salute began, 19 guns for the First Lord, the only salute that was longer, 21 guns, was reserved for the King or the Prince of Wales. Granger went forward to greet Spencer.

“Welcome aboard, my lord,” he said, then introduced Spencer to his officers. He saw Grafton stiffen with anxiety as Spencer greeted him formally.

Spencer looked around at the shining decks and the clean and well-dressed crew, looking for something wrong, looking for some sign of Belvidera's troubles, and found nothing. There was more noise now as Hood pulled himself up, the cannon sounding off again and more flourishes and ruffles. They had a small entourage, a lieutenant and a midshipman with them, along with someone who appeared to be a secretary.

“Looks a lot better than when I last saw her,” Hood said grudgingly.

“Thank you, my lord,” Granger said. “Would you care to see the ship?” Granger led them below to the gundeck, the men there standing at as close to attention as they could, looking with awe at these two men who were as close to God as they were likely to get. They declined his invitation to see the main deck, so Granger led them aft to his cabin where Lefavre had prepared some truly tasty food for them.

“Join us Mr. Calvert,” Spencer said. That surprised both Granger and Calvert, but Calvert didn't let it faze him for long.

“Aye aye, my lord,” Calvert said automatically. They sat at Granger's new table of beautifully carved mahogany while Winkler poured some of the wine Granger had captured in the Caribbean.

“You've done a good job, Granger,” Spencer said. “She certainly looks fit, and the crew appears to be tranquil.” Granger wondered if the First Lord had expected a riot.

“Thank you, my lord. My first lieutenant has worked wonders with the ship and the crew,” Granger said.

“Then you are to be commended as well, Mr. Calvert. I have heard much about you,” Spencer said cryptically.

“I hope that is a good thing, my lord,” Calvert said, flashing his smile and turning on his charm. Granger smiled when he noted that it actually had an effect on Spencer.

“For the most part,” Spencer said cantankerously. Granger had to try not to giggle. “Are you ready for sea?” That last comment was directed at Granger.

“Very nearly, my lord. We have but to take on some final stores tomorrow and we will be ready,” Granger said.

“Excellent,” Spencer said. He looked sideways at Hood, who nodded slightly. Granger began to realize that they were here for more than just sightseeing. “Well I fear we are going to upset your world a bit.”

Granger forced his expression to remain impassive, wondering at what new devilment Spencer was going to visit on him. The only thing Granger felt secure about was his command of Belvidera. There wasn't much chance that Spencer would remove him so soon after appointing him. “My lord?” he asked, as he was seemingly meant to.

“You're not going to India,” Spencer said. Granger waited this time, not even deigning to ask where Spencer was sending him. “You're going to the Mediterranean instead.”

Granger couldn't stop himself from grinning a little bit. He wasn't going to India; he wouldn't be thousands of miles away from England with no hope of returning for over a year. Granger looked over at Hood, who was pretending to scowl. “My lord, I fear this is your doing,” Granger teased him. “You did not want to send me so far away?” Spencer laughed while Hood growled good-naturedly.

“While I fear your wife's wrath,” Hood said, “I had nothing more to do with this than to agree after the fact.”

“You owe this change in orders to Sir John Jervis,” Spencer said. “It would seem you're about the only aristocrat he has any use for.”

“Indeed, my lord?” Granger asked curiously.

“Admiral Jervis is assuming command of the Mediterranean Fleet,” Hood said. “He'll be raising hell there. Discipline and efficiency are his mottoes.” Granger studied Hood carefully. It wasn't too long since he'd been in command of the Mediterranean Fleet. If there was slackness, it could theoretically reflect badly on him. Was he for or against Jervis' efforts?

“I am unclear as to whether you think that is a good thing or not, my lord,” Granger said.

Hood gave him a scowl. “The Frogs have got their act together and are growing more effective against us. Our fleet has grown complacent and reluctant to deal with the resurging enemy. Jervis is a good officer, and he's going to snap that fleet into shape. It's a good thing.” He looked briefly at Calvert, as if he were concerned about speaking of such things in front of him.

“Sir John's dispatches arrived, and he has specifically requested that you be sent to the Mediterranean,” Spencer said. “It's quite a compliment to have the toughest admiral in the fleet specifically request you.”

“I am mindful of the honor Sir John does me,” Granger said hastily. “I only hope that I can live up to his expectations.”

“Not only his,” Spencer said with a small grin. “You wouldn't want to disappoint your loyal fans. The mob expects wonders from you, Granger.”

Granger stared at him, horrified, until Spencer and Hood laughed at him. “Well, my lords, if I disappoint them, at least traveling around London will be easier when I am next home.”

“Well, Sir John won't join the Mediterranean Fleet for a bit, so I have another job for you in the meantime,” Spencer said.

“It sounds as if I'm to be busy, my lord,” Granger said, smiling as charmingly as he could.

Spencer looked to the heavens as if begging for deliverance, but then his expression changed to one more serious. “You'll have a challenge ahead of you,” he said, “and you'll have to do it without your First Lieutenant.” And there it was: Oblivion. They were taking Calvert away from him again, Granger thought. He and Calvert had been able to surmount challenge after challenge, near death experiences, and somehow still remain together. Yet here they were at the precipice again, about to be separated. Granger's mind began to function at a furious speed, trying to analyze who was responsible for this. Caroline? She wouldn't dare, not after their talk. Arthur? It was possible, but he didn't have that much pull over direct assignments.

“What is it you want of me, my lord?” Calvert asked, his expression stony, belying the pain he felt. Granger's mind now went into another direction, trying to figure out what carrot they could use to get Calvert to leave. Offering him a position on a ship of the line like they'd done last time wouldn't work. Any officer worth his salt would rather be on a frigate. Maybe a staff position?

“Intrepid needs a new captain. You're the best man for the job, if you think you're up to it,” Spencer said. Granger and Calvert looked at Spencer, then at each other, stunned. Intrepid was a choice command, one of the best small ships in the navy. Granger had gotten her because of his influential network and because he'd been lucky.

“I'm up for it, my lord,” Calvert said, barely hiding his smile. Granger saw the look in his eye and felt the feelings, the conflicting feelings flow over him. On the one hand, he was losing Calvert. Granger loved him completely, and craved his companionship, both physically and emotionally. He'd deprived himself of Calvert's company to placate Caroline, and now it was all for naught. He was losing Calvert again. Yet on the other hand, it was a fabulous promotion for Calvert, and he would have Intrepid. Granger loved his little sloop, and had agonized at the thought of her being given to some uncaring captain who would run her aground, or otherwise not care for her. Calvert loved her as much as Granger did.

“I can't imagine a better choice, begging your pardon my lord,” Granger said, pulling himself out of his daze.

“You'll need a new lieutenant,” Spencer said. “I'll work on finding you a replacement. I'm not sure if we can drum someone up before you sail.”

“Thank you my lord,” Granger said. “We will manage if you do not find someone right away.” The thought of Spencer sending him some mysterious lieutenant made him nervous. What if he sent Granger a nincompoop? Granger pushed that aside. Last time they'd sent him Calvert. Maybe he'd get just as lucky again.

“You'll find your orders waiting on board Intrepid, Commander,” Spencer said. That made both Granger and Calvert smile.

“Thank you my lord,” Calvert said simply. Spencer merely nodded.

“You'll be getting your orders shortly as well Granger. I will see you tomorrow at the Admiralty. Be there at 10:00am.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Granger said rigidly.

“You should expect to sail immediately after that, so I recommend that you say your goodbyes before then,” Spencer said.

“Yes, my lord, and thank you for the advance notice,” Granger said, even though they hadn't given him much.

“Thank you for your hospitality Granger,” Spencer said, and got up to leave.

“I must thank you for the honor you've paid us, my lords,” Granger said. He ushered Hood and Spencer up the ladder and over the side, and only when they were gone, when their barge had begun its trip down the Thames, could he stop and think about what they'd told him. “Join me in my cabin,” Granger told Calvert.

“Aye aye sir,” he said. Calvert followed him below to his cabin.

“Congratulations,” Granger said.

“It means we will be parted again,” Calvert said. “I want to be happy, but I can't.”

“When I was given Belvidera, I agonized over who would captain the Intrepid. She's more than just a thing. Knowing that you will have command of her, that makes it so much easier,” Granger said. “But against that, I will miss you terribly.”

“I will miss you too,” Calvert said. “I wanted to spend my career with you, and I would have been happy with that. I don't think I can turn this down. It would be a major insult to their lordships.”

“You have no choice. It is your duty. And you will do a great job,” Granger said. He stood up and held out his hand, then led Calvert to his sleeping cabin for a final coupling. It was meaningful, more meaningful than Granger could express, and when they were done and spent, and put their uniforms back on, they both knew that a new chapter in their relationship had opened.

Traveling by boat, then hackney to get home did much to worsen Granger's mood. By the time he got there he was positively fuming. He paused before he climbed the stairs, working manfully to master his emotions and to suppress his feelings. They'd been through so much together, he and Calvert, it was just agonizing to be separated again. Granger chided himself, telling himself what a great opportunity this was for Calvert, and rationalizing that if he really loved Calvert, he would be happy for him. All of this logic did nothing to quell the ache in his bosom, but he had steeled himself to see his family. He was ready. He walked up to the door and a footman opened it, standing aside to let him inside. He found Caroline in the drawing room, and before he could even talk to her, his father came in, anxious to hear how it had gone.

“Lord Spencer seemed pleased with Belvidera's condition,” Granger told them. “And he had good news. I am not being sent to India. I'm being dispatched to the Mediterranean instead.” The look of joy on both of their faces did much to erase his bad mood.

“That is so marvelous George!” Caroline exclaimed. She looked at him worried. She knew his mood so well, and knew there was more.

“What made them change their minds?” the Earl asked. In other words, who had pulled the strings to make this happen? Presumably he wanted to know whom to thank.

“Sir John Jervis requested that Belvidera be sent to him,” Granger said, working to keep the pride from his voice.

“You must have impressed him,” the Earl said. “He's a tough officer.”

“I received a further honor,” Granger said, making sure to speak his words carefully. “They promoted Lieutenant Calvert to command the Intrepid.”

Caroline looked at him, horrified. Granger knew then that she'd had nothing to do with Calvert’s transfer, so he winked at her to help her calm down. “That is indeed an honor,” the Earl said. “Promotion of a captain's first lieutenant is a high compliment to him.”

“It is, although it will mean that I must break in a new officer. Spencer is working to find me someone by tomorrow,” Granger said. “I must be at the Admiralty at 10:00am to receive my orders, and I suspect I will be sailing after that.”

“It will be much easier to have you go, knowing that you are so much closer,” Caroline said. “The thought of you in India, braving those climes and all the diseases that come with it, was quite fearsome.”

“Well, instead I will have to fight to keep my ship in condition to please Sir John,” Granger said with a smile. The Earl tactfully excused himself, while Granger led Caroline upstairs to their room.

“George, I had nothing to do with this, I swear it,” she said urgently.

He pulled her into his arms and smiled down at her. “I know. I know you would never break your word. It really is a compliment, and he will do great things with Intrepid. It is good to know she is in capable hands.”

“You will be leaving tomorrow?” she asked.

“I fear so,” he told her as he kissed her forehead. “Although I have not yet received my orders, Lord Spencer told me to be ready to depart after our meeting.”

“Then let us make the most of our time,” she said, and guided him to the bed, where they made love and said goodbye all at the same time.