HMS Valiant - 30. Chapter 30

December, 1799

Palermo, Sicily

Inasmuch as there could be chaos on the deck of His Majesty’s frigate Valiant, there was chaos. The final stores Andrews had ordered hadn’t arrived until this morning, courtesy of dilatory Sicilian merchants and victuallers. And contrary to his wishes, the Elgins and their party had not yet returned. In the past, he had been able to threaten them by shortening their stays in future ports, but as this was their last planned stop, that punishment was no longer useful. It would be like them to go slowly just to vex him, and nothing would vex Granger more at this point than delaying his departure from Palermo.

“How long until the tide shifts, Mr. Weston?” Granger asked, his irritation only growing when he realized he’d shown outwardly how impatient he was.

“In three quarters of an hour, my lord,” Weston said, in his cheerful way. Granger was almost of a mind to vent some of his foul mood on Weston, but that would expose even more of his annoyance.

“My lord, boat putting off from the shore,” Travers called from the bow. “Looks to be the Elgins.”

“We’re almost done with the stores, my lord,” Weston said.

“Then it seems we may actually make it out of port today,” Granger said, smiling slightly. The thought of being at sea, and being free from this place, suddenly transformed Granger’s mood, erasing the grumpiness that had enveloped him.

“Indeed, my lord,” Weston agreed.

“My lord, we’re being hailed by a boat with a King’s officer on board,” Llewellyn said. Granger looked over the side and saw two gentlemen, one in a midshipman’s uniform, and the other in a much fancier outfit.

“Bring them aboard, Mr. Llewellyn,” Granger ordered, wondering what this latest interruption would mean. In the meantime, he turned to Andrews to discuss stowing the stores below, and only turned back to meet the strangers when they were led up onto the quarterdeck.

“My lord, I am Prince Genarro,” the young man in the midshipman’s uniform said. “I have been ordered to report on board.” Granger eyed this young man, who was definitely not what he’d expected. He’d been sure he’d be saddled with one of the bratty and pudgy boys that seemed to populate the Sicilian Court, but Genarro was nothing like that. He was probably 5’10” tall, which was large for this island. He had dark skin that looked to be almost the same color as that of the Spaniards Granger had encountered in South America: like a Castilian with a suntan. He had dark hair that was long and pulled back into a queue, with handsome features that were dominated by a very large nose. On some, such a large nose would be grotesque, but on this young man, it just made him seem more handsome and more masculine. To cap it all off, his teeth did not appear to be crooked, but he had what was almost a natural overbite, which was slight enough to make it appear as if he were aggressive and gave him a ruthless air, like a wolf.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” Granger said, with a polite bow. “It is an honor to welcome you aboard.”

“My lord, with all respect, I would ask that you treat me as you would any other member of your crew,” Genarro said. His dark brown eyes bored into Granger’s as he said that, as if to emphasize his sincerity.

Granger smiled. “Then we will call you Mr. Genarro,” Granger said.

“Thank you, my lord,” he said, and shot Granger a smile that was so magnetic it almost stunned Granger.

“That is certainly not appropriate, Your Highness,” the man with him admonished.

“It is how I wish things to be,” Genarro said to him firmly.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” the man said, reluctantly acquiescing.

“You should address me as ‘sir’,” Granger said to Genarro, to be consistent with his other officers who were nobles, like Clifton.

“Aye aye sir,” the young man said.

“Have you brought gear with you?” Granger asked, suddenly worried that he’d have to delay longer while they outfitted this young man.

“I have a chest in the boat, my lord,” Genarro said.

“Excellent,” Granger said. “Mr. Weston, this is Mr. Genarro. He will be joining our midshipman’s berth.”

“Welcome aboard,” Weston said pleasantly. “Mr. Llewellyn, have Mr. Genarro’s chest brought aboard, then show him to the midshipman’s berth.”

“Aye aye, sir,” Llewellyn said, and then spoke to Genarro. “Come along then.”

Granger turned back to the other man, who was much older, probably in his late thirties, and dressed like a court official. He was observing this scene with considerable disdain. “And what can I do for you, sir?”

“I am ordered to accompany His Highness,” the man said stodgily. “I am Count Giulio di Sarcona, His Highness’s governor.” He didn’t address Granger as ‘my lord’ since he was presumably a titled aristocrat in his own right, but his tone was certainly not as respectful as one would expect from someone who was intent on joining their voyage.

“I was not aware that anyone else would be accompanying His Highness,” Granger said.

“That is my function,” the man said firmly. Granger had noticed that Genarro seemed more than happy to escape from this man, and decided that the last thing he needed on board his ship was a nosy and troublesome Sicilian count. He had quite enough to handle with the Elgins and their entourage on board.

“Do you have written orders to that effect?” Granger asked. The man began to speak, but Granger stared at him sternly, demanding that he answer the question.

“I do not, but...”

Granger cut him off. “His Highness was sent aboard by Royal command, so if you can produce orders signed by either one of Their Majesties also directing you to join us, I will gladly offer you a position on board this ship.”

“That is impossible,” he said, almost a shout. “Their Majesties will be hunting today.”

“If you return with orders, you may sail with us, if you do not, you will not,” Granger said simply. The man just stared at him, stunned, even as Genarro’s chest was hoisted aboard. “Mr. Weston, please assist the Count into his boat.”

Di Sarcona gave him a nasty look, and stalked over to the bosun’s chair, where he was dutifully lowered over the side. “Think he’ll come back with orders, my lord?” Weston joked.

“I suspect that he will not do that before we sail, but in any event, we now have an even bigger incentive to make haste,” Granger joked. No sooner had they loaded the Count into his boat than the bosun’s chair was busy again, hauling the Elgins aboard.

“Welcome back,” Granger said to Lord and Lady Elgin.

“Thank you, Granger,” Elgin said in his friendly way.

“I truly regret leaving this island to return to your care,” Lady Elgin said, uttering the word, care, with a sneer.

“I can understand how you must feel,” Granger said, with faux sympathy. “After Lady Hamilton’s performance last night, I find it difficult to tear myself away from her talents.” Emma Hamilton had sung for them last night. She had a beautiful voice, but while Granger had enjoyed her singing, he had enjoyed watching Lady Elgin try to maintain a plain façade even as she tried not to explode at having to listen to ‘that woman’ perform yet again.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Elgin said. “She was magnificent.”

“I will be below,” Lady Elgin said, glaring at both of them, and vanished down to her cabin.

“After we have sailed, I would like to speak with you,” Elgin said to Granger.

“Of course,” Granger said. “It will be good to hear of your adventures here in Sicily. Perhaps you can join me for dinner.”

“That would be delightful,” Elgin said. “There will be another boat arriving shortly with my wife’s servants aboard.”

Granger suddenly became aware that none of the ladies who had sailed with Lady Elgin were with the party that had just arrived, and that her private secretary was absent as well. “We will keep an eye out for them. Hopefully they arrive soon.” Anything that would delay their departure was a truly horrific turn of events, so Granger viewed this new development with dread.

As if sensing Granger’s mood, Elgin walked over to the railing and stared toward the shore, where another boat was just putting off. He put a glass to his eye briefly, and then turned back to Granger. “They are on their way now.”

“Excellent,” Granger said. Elgin vanished below, to presumably attend to his wife and his staff. The men accompanying him had learned over the course of this voyage that when departing from port, their inane conversation was unwelcome, so they followed Elgin below as well.

“Let’s get the anchor hove short, Mr. Weston,” Granger said.

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said, and that began the process of getting Valiant underway. As seemed appropriate for their departure on such a pleasant winter day here in the Mediterranean, they put out flags and bunting, and Treadway organized the band to serenade the men who were working aboard Valiant, and those aboard Foudroyant and ashore who were watching this ship leave port.

Granger was distracted as another boat hooked on, this one carrying their pilot, who spoke but a little English, and was not the most pleasant of fellows. And with a style typical of the Sicilians Granger had met, this man seemed to have no sense of urgency about him.

“Topsails, Mr. Weston,” Granger ordered. He saw that the boat with Lady Elgin’s servants was just now about to hook on. It was time. The sails flapped, and then caught the wind, pushing Valiant away from the shore. That, combined with the tide that was now running out, seemed to make Valiant feel like a spirited stallion straining against his restraints, anxious to be free. “Raise the anchor.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Weston said. Two women came aboard, but they were different than the ladies who had attended Lady Elgin on the first part of the voyage. There was also a gentleman with them, who was different than Lady Elgin’s prior private secretary.

“Welcome aboard,” Granger said to them, then ignored them as he focused on his ship. “Pass the word for Lord Elgin!”

One of the bargemen who had brought things aboard for the maids handed a note to the pilot, who then babbled at Weston. “My lord, the pilot wants us to take in a reef.”

Clearly someone was trying to delay them, and Granger surmised that it was either Lady Elgin’s jilted servants, or Genarro’s jilted governor.

“And why must we slow our speed?” Granger asked the pilot. The pilot began to ramble on in Italian, which frustrated Granger. “One moment,” he said, cutting the man off, then turned to deal with Elgin, who had arrived per his request.

“Granger, you sent for me?”

“Your wife’s servants have arrived,” Granger said, gesturing to the three who stood there on the deck, looking lost. “I would be obliged if you would attend to them, and get them settled in.”

“Of course,” he said, and then turned to them. “Follow me.” That served to get all of the passengers off the quarterdeck, so that the only extraneous person was the pilot, who was now quite agitated.

Valiant was just passing Foudroyant, so Granger left the pilot in mid rant and went to the side, where he tipped his hat to Berry in a polite way, a gesture that Berry returned. Having offered passing honors, Granger returned to the pilot and his desire to slow their progress.

“My lord, it looks like that Italian chap is trying to catch up with us,” Weston said.

Granger took his glass and aimed it toward the pier, where a boat was just now casting off with the Count di Sarcona aboard. Unless Valiant slowed, that boat would not catch them, which must be why the pilot was urging them to take in a reef. Granger spotted Genarro by the starboard rail with Llewellyn, looking quite lost. “Mr. Genarro!”

“Sir?” he asked, rushing over to Granger, as was proper.

“It would appear that your governor is trying to join the ship,” Granger said, gesturing toward the shore. “I suspect that he has sent a note to the pilot to slow our progress so he can reach us in time.”

“Yes, sir,” the young man said curiously.

“The pilot is demanding that we take in sail, but my Italian isn’t good enough to argue with him,” Granger explained. “Perhaps you could handle that for me?” If Genarro wanted to free himself from his tedious governor, he could convince the pilot to take them out quickly. If he wanted his governor with him, he could acquiesce and agree to slow the ship. The choice was now his.

Genarro smiled. “Of course, sir,” he said, and walked up to the pilot. The pilot eyed him contemptuously, this Sicilian in a Royal Navy uniform, but only for a minute. Granger heard Genarro begin to lambast the man with words, a few of which he caught, especially the ones where the Prince explained to the pilot who he was. By the time Genarro was done, the pilot was considerably cowed, and quite obsequious when dealing with Genarro. “Sir, the pilot requests that you increase sail. He assures me it is quite safe.”

“With pleasure,” Granger said, grinning. “Mr. Weston, let’s get the topgallants on her!”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Weston said, and set the crew to that task. In no time at all, Valiant was sailing out of port at probably the maximum speed she could reasonably risk. Granger trained his glass toward the boat with Genarro’s governor and saw the man rant in his seat as he watched Valiant sail off, and then with resignation, the boat turned back toward the shore.

“Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Genarro,” Granger said.

“It was my pleasure, sir,” he said, then continued to attend to the pilot to make sure they escaped from Palermo.

“Winkler, I will be entertaining Lord Elgin to dinner this afternoon,” Granger said.

“I will arrange it, my lord,” Winkler said. “Will it be just the two of you?”

They heard a shriek, then a loud yell from below, in that unmistakably shrewish voice of Lady Elgin. “I think it will be.”

Lady Elgin stormed up onto the quarterdeck and right up to Granger. “We must stop at once.”

“And what must we stop?” Granger asked flippantly.

“This ship! We must stop! My maids, my secretary, they are languishing in Palermo!”

“This ship is not stopping,” Granger said firmly. “You will go below until we have cleared this port.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said defiantly. Just then Elgin walked up behind her, having strolled while she’d all but run.

“Granger, perhaps you would be so kind as to detail a few of your marines to escort my wife back to her cabin?” Elgin said.

“Major Treadway, please accommodate Lord Elgin,” Granger said.

“Aye aye, my lord,” Treadway said, and began to detail men to drag Lady Elgin below. She just glowered at all of them, then turned and stormed back to her cabin with the same haste at which she’d come on deck.

“Granger, I would be obliged if you would instruct your officers and your crew that no one is to speak to my wife,” Elgin said. “If she addresses them, they should ignore her, and if she is argumentative, you should have her returned, forcibly if necessary, to her cabin.”

Granger turned to Weston, who was standing next to him. “Please make sure that the other officers and the crew follow Lord Elgin’s instructions regarding Lady Elgin.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Weston said, and turned to relay those orders.

“I will see you at dinner,” Elgin said with a slight smirk, then went below.

“An interesting start to this leg of our trip, my lord,” Treadway noted.

“It is indeed,” Granger said. They cleared the harbor, rid themselves of their pilot, and then tacked on more sail, determined to make sure they were well clear of Sicily as quickly as possible.

Granger stood on the deck, reveling at the cold air that blew them toward Turkey, thrilled that they had a fair wind for at least this first part of their voyage. The seas were moderate, which meant they were comfortable for those with experienced sea legs, and the whole effect was quite invigorating. Granger let the wind blow away his foul memories of Palermo, and enjoyed simply being at sea again. In fact, he was so engrossed in his milieu he was surprised when Winkler came up to announce that dinner was ready.

“Please instruct Lord Elgin to meet me in my cabin,” he said to Winkler. “Mr. Weston, you have the ship.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” they both chirped, almost in unison. Granger went aft where Winkler, having sent a messenger for Elgin, arrived almost immediately after him to help him with his coat. It was deliciously warm in his cabin, courtesy of the stove Cavendish had given him. That was turning out to be a fabulous gift.

Elgin arrived shortly after that. Granger greeted him then led him over to the table, which had leaves removed to provide a more intimate dinner. “I am glad to be at sea again,” Granger said, to start their conversation.

“As am I,” Elgin said. “My wife is not very happy, and I suspect that her temper will not improve over the short term.”

“She is your wife, and part of your household, so it is for you to manage her,” Granger said, washing his hands of anything to do with that horrible woman.

“And for probably the first time since we are married, I plan to do just that,” Elgin said, with almost a sinister look.

Granger raised his glass in a toast. “To your newfound command of your family.”

Elgin chuckled and drank with him. “I have met with my staff, and while they are uncomfortable, they will follow my directive to have no contact with Lady Elgin.”

“As those are now the standing orders among my crew, I would expect that would isolate her,” Granger said. He and Elgin started eating the magnificent meal Lefavre had prepared for them.

“I would hope,” he agreed. “I am concerned as to what mischief she is plotting.”

“There is some new information you have acquired?” Granger asked curiously.

“She has been pelting me with a demand that we make one additional stop on our trek to Constantinople,” Elgin said.

“That isn’t part of our plan,” Granger said, and found himself rebelling against the idea at calling at yet another port. He was anxious, almost desperate, to deposit the Elgins in Turkey and be rid of them.

“Yet I am curious as to why she is insisting on this stop, and I am concerned that without making that stop, we may not be able to discover just what she is plotting,” he said.

“And where does she want to stop?” Granger asked.

“The island of Tenedos,” he said.

“Tenedos,” Granger mused. “I hardly think of that as a place worth calling, but then, I know almost nothing of it.”

“Tenedos is where the Greeks hid their fleet from the Trojans, before they sent the famous horse into the city,” Elgin said. “Despite being very small, it has been of strategic value because it is near the Dardanelles.”

“What business could she possibly have there?” Granger mused.

“I don’t know, and she certainly won’t tell me,” he said. “I have seized her correspondence and I’ve been going through it. That was the reason why I replaced her secretary. I found nothing incriminating, but I did find one thing of interest.” He handed Granger a paper.

“This appears to be a cypher,” Granger noted.

“Indeed,” Elgin agreed. “It is presumably a code, but there is no message with the code.”

“You are suggesting that this is some scheme by the Guild, and that there are two parts of a message arriving in Tenedos?” Granger asked, putting it all together.

“That is a possibility, and seems likely,” Elgin said. “So if we do not stop, we will not find the other part of the message. And while that will possibly unravel their scheme, we will be none the wiser about it.”

“Is Tenedos even populated?” Granger asked.

“It is, although it is not a large settlement,” he replied. “I am privy to some of the contingency war plans, should we find ourselves in conflict with the Turks. It is thought that Tenedos would make an ideal forward base.”

“So your suggestion is that we make this stop with the dual purpose of discovering what malfeasance your wife and father-in-law are up to, while simultaneously scouting the island to evaluate its military potential,” Granger said, summing up his request.

“That is my suggestion,” Elgin said.

“Does your wife know that this cypher is missing?” Granger asked.

“She is frantically looking for it,” he said with a grin.

“Then I would suggest that we have my clerk, who is quite trustworthy, make a copy of it, and then you can give her back the original. We can decide whether to stop at this island or not, as we see how this voyage progresses.” Elgin nodded.

“I am guessing that her private secretary was the key to this plan, or at least to communicating with someone ashore,” Elgin said. “That would explain her extreme agitation at losing him.”

“Now that he is left behind in Sicily, won’t he try to alert his contacts that their plan is potentially exposed?”

“He is being detained,” Elgin said with a crafty look. “By the time he is released, it will be much too late to raise the alarm.” Granger was surprised at the level of planning and scheming Elgin had put into this entire matter. It was a side of the Scottish earl he had not seen before.

Granger summoned his clerk, and admonished him to copy the cypher exactly, and swore him to secrecy. After he left, Elgin looked somewhat apprehensive. “You are sure you can trust him?”

“Mr. Patton has been with me for some time now, and performed valuable services for my family prior to that,” Granger explained, then changed the subject. “How will you handle your wife?”

“I do not mean to be rude, but that surely is my affair,” Elgin said, almost in a huff. Granger realized that he’d crossed boldly over the lines of decorum, the lines that gave Elgin God-like powers when dealing with his family.

“I must beg your pardon,” Granger said, horrified.

“That’s quite alright,” Elgin said. They finished dining, and Granger’s clerk conveniently enough returned with the original document as they were sipping after-dinner port. Elgin pocketed the original, and then rose. “Thank you for the wonderful dinner.”

“It was my pleasure,” Granger said, and escorted him from the cabin. He looked at the copy of the cypher his clerk had made for him, but it was meaningless unless matched up with some other document. He locked the paper in his safe, and then went back on deck. The weather had actually gotten more pleasant, with the seas calming themselves a bit, and the wind maintaining a steady, if not lighter, air. Granger had just begun to pace when the wailing began. He paused, mid-stride, as he heard what sounded like someone sobbing and crying out. “Mr. Weston?” Granger asked.

“My lord, I am unsure as to what that noise is, but it sounds a bit like Her Ladyship,” he said nervously.

“No! Not that!” they heard a scream, and this time it was possible to tell that it was indeed Lady Elgin who was crying out.

“Shall I send the marines to investigate, my lord?” Weston asked uncomfortably.

“I think we will leave things as they are for the time being,” Granger said. He ignored Weston and began to pace again, but it was thankless, what with the sounds of Lady Elgin’s cries and screams wafting up to assault his ears. She was crying as if Elgin were removing her fingernails one by one, but Granger knew that she was the dramatic sort, so it was entirely possible that she was just angry at having her plans thwarted.

“No, not again, not again…!” he heard her sob, and then the voice was muffled. Granger looked around the deck and became aware of the mood of the crew, and it had changed markedly. They were discontented with this shrieking woman in their midst. No one liked her, and if she were indeed being tortured, no one would probably care, other than the fact that by shouting like she was, she was making it quite obvious. It assaulted the basic chivalrous instincts of Granger and his crew, instincts that Lady Elgin had almost, but not quite, eradicated.

“Pass the word for Lord Elgin!” Granger said, annoyed yet again at these passengers he’d been damned to shuttle to Constantinople. A considerable amount of time passed before Elgin arrived on the quarterdeck. Granger expected that he’d look disheveled if he was assaulting his wife, but he did not. He looked as calm and refined as he usually did.

“You sent for me, Granger?”

“Your wife is creating a great deal of noise, and commotion,” Granger said.

“And as we discussed, how I handle my wife, and my staff, are my affair,” he said angrily.

“That is true, up to a point,” Granger said. “If it disturbs this vessel or its other occupants, then it is also my affair.”

“There are many noises on this ship,” he objected. “I fail to see how my wife’s cries are that significant.”

“She is very loud,” Granger said, with a smile, getting one in return from Elgin. “I would submit that it would be best for all of us if you could keep her quiet, something I have been hoping she would do since she came aboard this ship.”

“And how would you suggest that I do that?” Elgin asked, annoyed again.

“If we have a sailor who will not be quiet, we stuff tow in his mouth,” Granger said. He beckoned to one of the ship’s boys and sent the lad down to get a wad of tow. When he returned, he handed it to Granger, who passed the item to Elgin.

“This is but a ball of twine,” Elgin said.

“That is not the exact description, but close enough,” Granger said. “Just so you are aware, corporal punishments administered on this ship are done solely with my permission.”

Elgin looked as if he were going to argue, but wisely decided not to. “Thank you for your assistance,” he said, and vanished below.

They heard Lady Elgin cry from below. “No! No!” Then her screams were muffled, presumably by the ball of tow. Granger looked around, and was annoyed to see everyone paying very close attention to this whole incident.

“Mr. Weston, is there some reason that the forebrace is so slack?” Granger asked acidly.

“I will attend to it at once, my lord,” Weston said, abashed.

Granger scanned the quarterdeck slowly, while the men hurriedly busied themselves with some task before he could actually make eye contact with them. As much as he’d enjoyed being on deck, Granger decided that the solitude of his cabin would be a welcome reprieve from both his crew and his passengers. Winkler was waiting to take his coat. “Will you want supper soon, my lord?”

“I will, and I will invite the midshipmen to join me,” Granger announced. That would terrify the young gentlemen, and inconvenience his staff. Granger thought both of those were positive developments. “Please inform them.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Winkler said. Granger sat at his desk and scrawled out some letters, and was so engrossed in his literary efforts Winkler had to actually stand in front of him and clear his throat to get his attention.

“Well?” Granger asked, pulling himself out of his correspondent’s fog.

“The young gentlemen are here, my lord, and supper is ready,” Winkler said.

Granger smiled, practicing his charm for his midshipmen. “Thank you, Winkler.” He walked into his dining room to find the three young men looking mildly terrified. He was pleased to see that they were well turned out. “Welcome,” he said pleasantly.

“Thank you, my lord,” Llewellyn answered, as the senior. They sat around his table, just the four of them, and after some pleasantries, they largely were quiet as the midshipmen focused on eating the fabulous supper Lefavre had prepared.

“I am pleasantly surprised that you joined us, Mr. Genarro,” Granger said. “We were told you would not be available until we returned from Constantinople.”

“There is some concern that the Oranian pirates will cause you some mischief, sir,” Genarro said. “While that was reason enough for Her Majesty to delay me, to actually shirk in the face of their feeble threats seems almost cowardly.”

Granger smiled at the handsome young man. “Well, I am not sure how feeble their threats are, but we will overcome them, and I am confident that we will face them much better having you aboard.”

“Thank you, sir,” Genarro said, and seemed to blush slightly, making his skin seem almost purple. In the end, Granger’s stressful day concluded with a pleasant supper with his midshipman, and he was quite pleased to have his gunroom restored to its full complement.