Master and Commander - 24. Chapter 24

March 1795

Admiral Sir Richard Lammert sat on the veranda of Government House and looked down at the harbor. He'd dismissed his staff and canceled his meetings for the day, opting instead to lounge in a chair sipping away at some most excellent rum mixed with water. Rum was a drink he'd embraced and enjoyed, partly because he liked it, and partly because it exemplified this paradise he'd adopted as his home.

He had received the news that there was a sail approaching, then that it was a British ship, and finally, he'd received the news that it wasn't just any ship; it was his grandson's ship. He had watched the fine sloop come sailing in without a single flaw in her handling and had managed to hide the grin of pride on his face from his staff. But such feelings were hard to suppress, so he'd sent them all away and just enjoyed the fabulous day, and the sight of HMS Intrepid behaving in a manner consistent with the finest traditions of the service.

He'd gotten his biggest treat when she'd actually entered English Harbour, because then his telescope allowed him to pick out the officers on her deck, and to see his grandson for the very first time. He was tall in stature, which was good, and had managed to have blond hair. That must be from the Granger side. But even from a distance, Lammert could see facial features that came from his side of the family. The straight nose, the well-defined lips, the dimples in his cheeks, all these were characteristics of the Lammerts. He'd watched him in action then, and that had been a huge treat. For Lammert had recognized Jacob Freemantle even from that distance, one of the biggest nincompoops the old admiral had ever come across. He'd seen his grandson coolly speaking to Freemantle, and then seen Freemantle fly off in a rage.

Then the young man had stepped down into his gig with a dignity that warmed Lammert's heart, headed over to the Boyne and climbed up the side with ease and agility, confidently ready to face one of the toughest admirals in the fleet. And now, an hour later, he'd descended into his gig and was finally headed ashore.

Lammert allowed himself a broad smile. George was his, the grandson that he'd picked to be his heir, to carry his legacy and his genes forward into the next generations. God had not seen fit to give him a son, but he'd given Lammert a fine daughter, and he'd married (some would say bribed) her into the Earldom of Bridgemont, linking their family to one of the most influential families in England. And she'd given the Earl, and him, three sons.

He'd dutifully followed their progress from afar, with friends and retainers sending him detailed reports on their personalities, their habits, and their vices. The oldest, Freddie, was a disappointment without really being one. He was cold and calculating, a heartless brute, much like Bridgemont had been in his younger days. He had written Freddie off anyway, assuming that as the heir to the Earldom he'd be close to the Earl, but the two of them never seemed to quite hit it off. Fatherhood and marriage had mellowed Bridgemont, so presumably when he looked at Freddie it was like looking in the mirror and seeing his old, bad self. That must be a bit too unpleasant for the Earl to bear.

The second son had been his first hope. He'd heard about Bertie's legendary charm and playfulness when he was a child, and had great hopes that his precocious childhood personality would evolve into the full blown tactful charm that graced the best courtier. But it was not to be. Bertie used his charm and good looks to relieve women of their clothing, a matter that would not have troubled Lammert one bit were it not just a symptom of his complete lack of moral scruples. Lammert had read the reports from his spies and had let his hopes for Bertie dissipate along with Bridgemont's wealth as the Earl paid his son's debts time after time. Even now, in India, he was rumored to be involved in some unscrupulous business dealings, although the rumors weren't detailed enough to let Lammert guess what those business dealings entailed. No, Bertie would be a fun man to spend time with, but he was too flawed to consider as an heir.

And that left George. Handsome, with youthful vitality, he had inherited Lammert's daughter's good manners and her ability to use humor in just the right dose: enough to be daring, but not so daring as to be inappropriate. He seemed oblivious to the hubbub he created with his mere presence when he went to Carlton House, to court, or to dinner parties. Lammert's friends were stunned that the young man seemed completely unaware that people stared when he went by.

In fact, there were only two things that rather marred Lammert's view of George, but neither of those was a deterrent to his plans. The first was that the Earl himself, apparently making the same evaluation of his sons as Lammert, had come to the conclusion that George was the one most deserving of resources, or at least of his love. Lammert had not wanted to compete with the Earl, he'd planned to simply peel off one of the sons and nurture him as an heir. But George’s relationship with his father had still not discouraged Lammert. The Earl was locked into his oldest son, his legal heir to his title and hereditary lands.

The second was a bit more complex, and revolved around rumors about George's friendship with Arthur Teasdale, a known sodomite. Most people saw George as a loyal friend to Teasdale, willing to remain in his corner regardless of Teasdale’s preference for men. Others seemed to think that George was fucking Teasdale, but wrote it off to astute political instincts. They pointed to George's wife and children as proof that he was really a man. Then there were those who were evil, who linked George sexually to every man and woman he was alone with.

Lammert pondered his own past, and knew that he was not one to cast aspersions in that direction. He'd found love with men as well as with women, but no one would ever be able to prove that, and that was what mattered. So when George had shown up at court with his first lieutenant, Francis Calvert, apparently a man handsome enough to tempt even the most reluctant bugger, the wags had started talking. Lammert had gotten a letter from one of his friends on the packet just last week, describing how various powerful forces had joined together to separate the two. It was bad luck that Calvert had ended up on Freemantle's ship. Yet here was Freemantle, on Intrepid.

Lammert pulled his head out of his own dynastic concerns as the reality stunned him. Where was Zenith? Why was Freemantle here without her? And what happened to Calvert?

“The carriage is returning from the dock, Sir Richard,” his aide said.

“Thank you Pierce,” the admiral said with a smile. The aide smiled back, a twinkle in his eye, as he turned and walked jauntily inside Government House. No, thought Lammert, he was no stranger to the love of men at all.

Granger sat in the carriage, his back erect, his face stolid, hiding the emotions that surged through him as they rode through the town. He was excited to meet this man he'd become close to merely through correspondence, someone he'd grown to truly care about. But what would he look like? What would he be like? When they were together, alone, in a room, would they like each other? What would his grandfather say about his feud with Freemantle? Would he chide him for his insubordination? Those thoughts all faded from his mind as the carriage pulled through the gates and up to the portico.

The negro coachman jumped down and a negro footman came forward to help him down, both of them dressed in the pale yellow uniform that was the color of the Lammerts. Granger smiled at that, thinking about how he'd subconsciously chosen cream as a complimentary color to the Bridgemont blue of his cabin and gig, and how it was so terribly close to the pale yellow of the Lammerts.

A very cute young man approached him. He was short and petite, almost feminine, until he spoke, a voice that was deep and smooth. “Welcome sir. I'm Pierce, your grandfather's secretary. He's waiting for you on the veranda.”

“It's nice to meet you Pierce,” Granger said cheerfully, flashing the young man his best smile. He enjoyed watching its impact, and thought playfully that if he spent much time here he might just have to get to know Pierce a little more intimately. He was led through the formal rooms of Government House; rooms designed to entertain guests, and glanced off to the side to see the large study, which would be the nerve center of this island's administration. Then they re-emerged onto a wide veranda that had a spectacular view of the harbor and the ships anchored there. His grandfather must have watched his every move, Granger thought nervously.

And then he was face to face with this man from whose loins he had sprung. Granger was almost stunned by how much they looked alike. He had much of his father's looks, but his mouth, his cheeks, his nose; those were all identical to his grandfather's features. Lammert smiled at him and he smiled back. Granger moved forward and extended his hands, which Lammert took automatically.

“It is so good to see you George. I feel as if I've known you for years, and I guess I have. It makes meeting you seem so, well, irrelevant.”

Granger smiled back at him. “It is good to meet you too sir,” he said formally.

“You call your father sir?” Lammert asked playfully. Granger thought about how like Bertie he seemed with that lilt to his head.

“No, I call him Father,” Granger said.

“But you think you should call me sir?” Lammert asked.

“No Grandfather, I think I should not call you that at all,” Granger said with a smile.

“So much to talk about, to say,” Lammert said. “But before we do, you must tell me how Freemantle came to be on your ship?”

Granger laid out the whole story, and watched his grandfather carefully. When he was home, he could trust his father completely. Out here, his instincts told him he could do the same with his grandfather. He told him about their first confrontation, and about his insubordinate behavior. He had expected a rebuke, but instead got a hearty laugh.

“George, you have no idea how many naval officers would have loved to be in your shoes to humble that arrogant fool! Do go on.” So Granger continued, a play by play which kept Lammert so engrossed he said nothing until the end.

“Freemantle lost his ship, a British ship of the line, to a French ship of the line? Only one?” Lammert asked. Granger nodded sadly. “There will be hell to pay for that.”

“I fear you are right,” Granger said. “I hope the repercussions are not too bad.”

“You are a government man?” Lammert asked, trying to determine Granger's political leanings.

“I don't know. I tend to have more friends who are Whigs than Tories. The Tories seem to be old and stodgy,” Granger teased. “But in the middle of a war, I can't think that a change in government is in His Majesty's best interest.”

“It certainly wouldn't be in the King's best interest,” Lammert said. “His party is in power now. But as confidence in the Tories fades, even though they can't oust them from power, the Whigs are able to acquire some key posts.”

“You mean like Spencer to the Admiralty?” Granger asked.

“I do. Spencer's a good man. He comes from a good family, and he's sharp. He'll do well,” Lammert said sagely. “So your former first lieutenant was aboard the boat as well?”

“He was. He survived, but has a severe wound. I'm hoping he fully recovers,” Granger said morosely. “Freemantle told me that Caroline was the one who got him transferred to his ship, but I don't think I can believe him.”

Lammert heard his words and saw his eyes and knew now why they'd wanted the two of them separated. Only a man who had known the love of another man could recognize the emotion in someone else. “I'm not sure if it's fair to blame Caroline. I suspect there were many people who thought it was a good idea.”

“What? Who?” Granger demanded. This was clearly a tender topic.

“Please stay calm George. Remember that I have your best interests at heart, and no reason not to be honest with you. You are friends with Teasdale, which is well known. That means you will always be suspected of being a sodomite by those who bear you malice.”

“That's not fair...” Granger began, but Lammert held up his hand.

“Of course it isn't, but please don't try and convince me you're that naïve. You show up at court with one of the handsomest men in the navy, and he looks at you with eyes that could contain admiration, could contain love, could even contain lust, and people will talk. I'm not sure if Caroline did or did not influence his transfer, but if she did, it was in your own best interest.” Lammert watched Granger struggle with this statement, knowing that the young man couldn't express his true feelings without exposing his inner self. He knew George wasn't ready to do that. Yet. “I would advise you, even though you have not asked for my counsel, that you look at this as your friends trying to do what was best for you and for Mr. Calvert. A promotion for him that quiets wagging tongues.”

Granger stared at his grandfather, wanting to argue, to point out that their meddling may very well end up killing his lover, but he couldn't say that, and he really didn't want to think about that now. “Your letters have been a constant source of comfort and guidance, Grandfather. There is no reason not to heed that advice now.”

Lammert smiled and then changed the subject. “If you are in port long enough you may get to inspect your investment.”

“Investment?” Granger asked.

“The brig Amelie, with those Frenchmen who took her out with a letter of marque.”

“They're here?” Granger asked. “I had reports of their first two voyages. They barely made enough to cover their expenses.”

“Well, it seems they decided that the Caribbean was a happier hunting ground. I've processed two of her prizes through the Admiralty court here, so this voyage should finally show some decent profits.”

“I'm glad for them,” Granger said sincerely. “They are such good naval officers. We are lucky their own navy did not appreciate them.”

“That was my impression as well,” Lammert said. “We must go inside. It is dusk, and the mosquitoes become particularly voracious around this time.” Granger nodded and followed his grandfather indoors. He noticed that as night approached they had strung mosquito nets over the open windows. “You must stay over tonight, and then you can attend the reception I'm hosting tomorrow.”

“Let me send a messenger to my ship,” Granger said. Lammert nodded and waved over a negro servant. Granger dashed off a note to Humphreys and instructed him to send Winkler back with his dress uniforms. He felt guilty about leaving Calvert, but his presence there would do no good, and may just fuel more of these infernal rumors about them.

Instead, he just relaxed and got acquainted with his grandfather. It wasn't long into their conversation that Granger realized that his grandfather knew a great deal about him, and it finally began to dawn on him how closely this man had followed him and his brothers through their lives. Thousands of miles away, yet he was fully informed about all of their activities.

They moved back out to a part of the veranda that was screened off where a veritable feast was waiting for them. A more perfect scene Granger could not imagine. The temperature was somewhere around 75 degrees with a gentle wind blowing through, just enough to cause lanterns to sway gently and sparkle a bit. Out in the harbor, the lights on the ships reflected off the glassy water, amplifying their effect to such a degree that they almost bathed their ships in a soft light. He saw Intrepid there, swinging gently to her anchor, dwarfed by Jervis's battleships that were near her.

One of Lammert's servants announced visitors, who turned out to be merely Winkler and Holmquist. “I brought your uniforms and shirts sir, so we can give them a proper cleaning in fresh water. Holmquist came along to help me carry them.” He turned to Holmquist. “Thank you for your help. You can return to the ship now.”

“Nonsense,” Granger said for some reason. He eyed the beefy Swede, his handsome looks not nearly as attractive as the huge cock that lay beneath his trousers. “You can return in the morning.”

“Aye aye sir,” they said.

“I have something that I think will interest you,” Lammert said mysteriously. He led him through the house to a room at the end of one of the wings. In it was a basin of water, a pool. “It is modeled after the Roman baths. I heard about your bathing habits and thought you might enjoy it.”

“You had this built just for me?” Granger asked, incredulous.

“Well, I must say I've learned to enjoy it as well,” Lammert said with a smile. “You may soak to your heart's content. As for me, I must retire so I am fresh enough to match wits with Admiral Jervis tomorrow.” This time they hugged as they said goodnight, and Granger found himself alone in the bathing room, but only for a moment. Pierce appeared and showed him to his room. He found Winkler and Holmquist in the anteroom next to his bedroom.

“I'm going to take a bath,” Granger announced. Winkler looked at him, frustrated. He was in the middle of sorting out his clothing for cleaning.

“I'll help you sir,” Holmquist volunteered.

“Thank you Holmquist,” Granger said. He stripped off his clothes in front of Holmquist, the mere act of doing that was erotic, but he hurriedly put on the bathrobe to hide his reaction. Holmquist followed him back downstairs.

“This is quite a bath sir,” Holmquist said. It was big enough for four, maybe five people to lounge around comfortably. Granger stripped off the bathrobe and handed it to Holmquist, noting that Holmquist's eyes kept glancing at Granger's body. Granger gently stepped into the lukewarm water that was perfect for the warm Caribbean nights. He sank into it and felt truly pampered. Holmquist was standing there holding his bathrobe looking totally uncomfortable and out of place.

“Join me,” Granger said.

“I couldn't sir, that just wouldn't be right,” Holmquist said. But his mouth was saying words his eyes didn't mean.

“I don't think I asked you seaman,” Granger said authoritatively.

“Aye aye sir,” Holmquist said. He stripped off his clothes while Granger watched him, watched his cock start to plump up from the attention. Then Holmquist hurried into the water before he got fully erect. “This is wonderful.” They floated around in the water, letting it leach the salt out of their skin and bodies. They were mostly submerged in the water, but Granger couldn't help lusting at Holmquist’s muscular shoulders and bulging biceps, nor the cute way the hair under his arms seemed to peek out. Granger suddenly noticed a smaller tub next to the pool. Clearly this one was to be used for soaping, the one they were in for soaking.

“That tub's for washing,” Granger said. “Let's go get cleaned up.”

“It's a bit small for two people sir. I wouldn't want to crowd you,” Holmquist said respectfully.

“I don't mind if you don't,” Granger said. Holmquist shrugged and they stepped out of the water. Granger's dick was almost fully erect and he was instantly embarrassed. He chided himself for not considering that before he got out of the water. His embarrassment was only temporary though, until he saw that Holmquist was fully erect, his huge cock poking out in front of him like a cannon. Granger paused to ponder whether Jardines or Holmquist was bigger. Probably Jardines, but it would be close. Holmquist blushed and hurriedly got into the other tub. The water in here was warmer, it must have been positively hot when they'd first come down here, but now it had cooled to just the right temperature.

Granger sank into the tub, his legs rubbing against Holmquist's of necessity, but the contact sent shockwaves through his body nonetheless. He handed Holmquist the soap. “Would you wash my back?”

“Yes sir,” Holmquist said, only he didn't just wash Granger's back, he began to massage the soap in, kneading Granger's tired muscles, rubbing the tension right out of his body. Granger was sitting in front of Holmquist, his back to him, and as he leaned forward to give Holmquist more room to work on his back, Holmquist instinctively leaned forward too. Granger used the opportunity to slide his ass backward.

Slowly he inched back until he ran into something big and hard: Holmquist's dick. Holmquist jumped a bit, as if he was going to back up, but then he just pretended Granger wasn't there, almost in his lap, with his ass wrapped around the head of his cock.

Granger slid back more, luxuriating in the feel of Holmquist's strong hands on his body, and his huge dick as it slid slowly along his crack. He began to get nervous, as Holmquist wasn't showing any signs that Granger was virtually sitting on his dick, until finally he moaned softly and gently thrust forward. Then he seemed to panic, and tried to back away.

Granger was having none of that. He pushed himself back into Holmquist, forcing his back against the man's massive chest, and his ass crack firmly down on his huge shaft. Holmquist instinctively thrust back against him, while Granger reached down and grabbed his huge member, gently caressing it. “Is this OK?” he asked.

“Yes sir, very OK,” Holmquist said with a smile. He wrapped his huge arms around Granger and pulled him in, taking control. Granger felt Holmquist's lips on his neck and behind his ear. “It is a dream come true.” Granger turned his head to the side and their lips met, a tender meaningful kiss. Granger slowly parted his lips and waited for Holmquist to do the same, and then felt the Swede's tongue dart past his teeth, seeking out his own. Granger took the soap and lowered it to Holmquist's cock, rubbing it liberally on the head and shaft. It was as slippery as lanolin, Granger thought to himself thankfully.

Granger adjusted himself upward while not breaking their kiss and slowly lowered himself onto Holmquist's huge cock. The Swede broke the embrace and stared at him, amazed. “You do not have to do that. Not many people will, or can.” Granger took the words as a challenge and leaned back into this hunky sailor, forcing his body to relax in the face of this huge foreign presence trying to penetrate him. Slowly, inch by inch, Holmquist's cock pushed into Granger, until Granger felt his ring pop, and felt Holmquist penetrate him more easily.

“I want to,” Granger said with a moan as he speared his ass down onto Holmquist, taking him fully inside. “Good?”

“Fantastic,” he said, and he began to slowly move in and out of Granger. Holmquist's strong arms all but immobilized Granger, keeping him in one solid place while Holmquist slowly fucked him. He then adjusted himself so only his left arm was wrapped around Granger, but it was so strong it was more than enough to do the job. Then with his right hand Holmquist began to slowly explore Granger's body. The contrast between Holmquist's huge hard cock moving in and out of Granger's ass, his strong arm holding Granger in this virtual death grip, and his gentle loving touches turned Granger into a moaning blob. He gave himself over to Holmquist, completely surrendering to him, letting him touch him, probe him, fuck him however he wanted. And Holmquist was an experienced lover. He went slow enough to make it last forever, until Granger was so excited and so sore he thought he could bear no more.

Holmquist seemed to sense this and picked up his pace. Then as he got close, he used his hand to stroke Granger's cock, bringing him closer and closer to orgasm, bringing them both there. Without a word, they both came, their moans and screams stifled as their bodies spasmed in sync with each other. When they were done, Granger just sat there on Holmquist's dick, totally still, while stars seem to circle around his head. This sailor who anyone could easily dismiss as a dumb Swede had just turned out to be one of the best lovers Granger had ever encountered. He felt a huge sense of loss when Holmquist’s softening member popped out of him.

Granger spun around in the water and sat on Holmquist's lap. He wrapped his arms around him like a giddy school girl and kissed him passionately. “You think you might want to do that again sometime?” he asked.

“I would do that anytime, day or night, you have but to ask sir,” Holmquist said with a smile. Granger felt uncharacteristically vulnerable with this gentle giant, like he could let himself go, expose his weak persona, the man buried inside that needed love and just wanted to be held and protected. What's more, Holmquist sensed this, knew this, and pulled Granger to him, holding him close and gently stroking his back in the soapy water. They stayed like that for the better part of an hour, just enjoying the physical closeness and the emotional charge it gave them both.

“We should rinse off,” Granger said. He sat up on Holmquist's lap and found his big hard cock jabbing him again.

“We will rinse off in a little bit,” Holmquist said, taking charge. He pulled Granger down onto him and began to fuck him again, only this time they were facing each other, this time they could look each other in the eye, this time their lips could meet as well, and this time they came just as hard as the first time.

They went back into the other pool and rinsed off. Granger resolved to have one of these installed at Brentwood when he got back. This was truly the apex of luxury. He put on his bathrobe while Holmquist put on his clothes, and together they headed back upstairs.

As he was walking down the hallway, Granger heard some muffled noises coming from one of the rooms, noises that sounded like moans. “I'll meet you back in my room,” Granger said to Holmquist. Then he leaned closer to his ear. “You're sleeping with me tonight.”

“Aye aye sir,” Holmquist said with a smile. He strode down the hall, a definite strut in his walk. Yeah, he'd enjoyed himself, Granger thought with a grin. He watched Holmquist vanish into his room and then scanned the hall to make sure no one else was around.

Convinced he was alone, he knelt in front of the door and peered through the keyhole. The room behind the door was very large, which meant that the distance from the key hole across the room was long, and thus Granger was able to get a wider view of it. It had a massive bed in it, with mosquito netting strung over it just like the bed in his room. It was difficult to see past the mosquito netting, especially with the dim lights of the room, but Granger could clearly make out two shapes on the bed.

He pulled away from the door and glanced up and down the hall again, then resumed his peeping. He was just about to give up on figuring out who the shapes were when they re-oriented themselves. They were facing right toward the door. There was someone on the bottom, on all fours, and from what Granger could tell; she was getting her brains fucked out. Each thrust pushed her face closer and closer to the netting, until she was close enough to recognize.

Only it wasn't a she, it was Pierce. His cute little face was completely contorted as someone plowed into him. Then Granger saw his expression twist and his mouth begin to open and close rapidly as he panted and bit back his moans. Granger smiled to himself. Pierce was clearly cumming. He was adorable when he ejaculated. Then the other figure behind him leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss on his neck, and his ear. That motion brought his face up as well, giving Granger a good look at the man who had just fucked Pierce hard, who had just put that grin on his face. It was his grandfather.

Stunned, Granger stood up and walked down the hall. He'd just watched his grandfather bugger another man. He paused outside his door, seemingly paralyzed by his discovery, as his mind processed what he'd just seen. Maybe it was an inherited trait? In that case, he was more like his grandfather than he'd even imagined before. And that gave those words he'd spoken about Calvert even more meaning. He knew, or at least he understood, and he was trying to explain to Granger why Calvert's transfer had happened. They'd been too obvious. They had to be more discreet. If Calvert lived, Granger thought sadly. He brought himself back to reality and slipped into his room and then Holmquist slipped back into him.

He smiled as Holmquist fucked him, really fucked him this time. It felt so good, so fucking good, how could he even dream of denying someone else this kind of pleasure. Still, he thought playfully, it's probably not a good idea to fuck Pierce. That made him laugh out loud, a laugh that was stifled as Holmquist brought him to yet another orgasm.