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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. 

Northern Exposure - 55. Chapter 55

May 12, 1801

Stroganov Palace

St. Petersburg, Russia

 

Today was a festive day because Alexei and Maria had returned home. They’d gone to visit one of their estates, and dinner conversation had been decidedly less interesting without them around. In order to correct that, they were all assembled around the table in the opulent dining room, and had just finished their second course. The staff brought out the entrees, the famed beef dish that Granger had managed to acquire the secret recipe for. None of them said anything about the food, waiting for Chartley to try it. He took one bite and his eyes came alight. “This is wonderful!”

“Your reaction was quite similar to ours when we first tasted it,” Daventry said.

“I must steal your chef away to England and extract the secrets from him,” Chartley said.

“Unfortunately for you, he is very loyal, and that will be a fool’s errand,” Alexei said smoothly.

“Then I shall have to enjoy it while I am here,” Chartley said. “It will give me something to savor and remember.”

“How did your meeting with His Imperial Majesty go?” Pavel asked. Chartley had just returned from the palace before dinner, and was thus wearing Treadway’s old uniform, duly tailored by Winkler. It was strange to see him wearing it, because his trials and tribulations, including the fever, had caused him to lose a great deal of weight, and his muscle tone seemed to have eroded from the experience as well. Daventry had accompanied Chartley, so he was the only one who knew how the meeting went. They had avoided discussing it until now, as it would have been crass to bring such a topic up so early in the dinner.

“It went quite well,” Chartley said. “His Imperial Majesty is an impressive monarch.”

“I am glad that he made such a good impression on you,” Alexei said.

“He apologized for my period of illness and captivity, and promised to see that justice was served,” Chartley said. “He also ordered that my 10,000 guineas be returned to me by putting them in an account for me at the National Bank.”

“So you are richer now, and I will not have to share my money with you,” Granger joked.

“I am financially independent, even from you,” Chartley said. In reality, there should have been no problem with him acquiring a line of credit if needed, based on his experiences, his wealth, and his lineage. However, this was Russia, where such forms of collateral or bonafides were eclipsed by the word of the Tsar.

“While you were at the palace, I was able to dispatch our letters to Bertie,” Granger said. “He will be quite glad to know that you are alive.”

“He will be glad, and he will want me to come back to India, but I am not going,” Chartley said firmly.

“I can certainly understand that decision, but I am wondering why?” Granger asked.

“I have been banished from China, and while that sounds like a permanent state of affairs, with the right bribes, that decree could most likely be overturned or overlooked,” Chartley said.

“Corruption is that rife in China?” Maria asked. “One wonders if it is worse than in Russia.” They chuckled at that.

“I am not sure which is worse, but they both appear to be bad,” Chartley said ruefully. “In Canton, almost anything can be had for the right price. The Emperor and his ministers, far away in the capital, will rant and rave about it. They will send new men to manage the city and foreign trade, but these new men are quickly corrupted as well.”

“It sounds as though you are well-versed in navigating that system,” Daventry noted.

“Indeed I am, but I have spent enough time there and am weary of dealing with the Chinese on the one hand, and the merchants on the other,” Chartley said.

“That does not sound like a fun job,” Maria observed, making them smile.

“It was not, but it was lucrative. Unfortunately for Bertie and John Company, I do not need more money, at least not badly enough to go back there,” he replied.

“I would have expected they would attempt to lure you to India,” Granger noted.

“India has its own problems. I had pledged to be done with the Far East once before and was dragged back into that region.” He paused to give Granger an apologetic look. “Now I truly am done.” Granger found Chartley’s characterization of his mission to China as unrealistic. He’d had a choice back then, and he could have opted to leave at any time since then. His family was too influential for there to have been any repercussions, even from such a powerful force as the Honorable East India Company. It was his own greed, or perhaps some other motivation, that had kept him there.

“So what will you do?” Daventry asked. “We are due to leave for England shortly. Will you return home with us?” That seemed to be the most logical course of action. Traveling with Granger and Daventry would be much safer, and much more entertaining.

“I will return to England, but I think I will delay my departure for a bit, assuming that does not put a burden on our wonderful hosts,” Chartley said. Both Granger and Daventry were shocked by this announcement, and shared a surprised look.

“Having all of you here has brightened our lives and provided us with some extra excitement,” Alexei said, making them chuckle. “You will stay here as long as you want, and in exchange you must regale me with stories of the places you have traveled to.”

“That is a most agreeable bargain,” Chartley said. “I am indebted to you for your kindness.”

“Why are you delaying your return to England?” Daventry persisted, interrupting the mutual admiration conversation that had been flowing between Alexei and Chartley.

“I do not think I could endure the voyage, and I do not think I am healthy enough to endure my homecoming,” Chartley said.

“You were marvelous at the palace today,” Daventry noted. “No one would have expected that you were ailing.”

“Thank you for saying that,” Chartley said. “It means that my façade was at full strength. Underneath that, I am all but exhausted. I will probably need to spend tomorrow in bed to recover.”

“We can help you up to your room if you are that fatigued,” Granger said with concern.

“Thank you, George,” he said. “I am boosted by this wonderful food.”

“Your discovery at the Secret House has sent shockwaves through the military command,” Pavel said, changing the subject.

“I would not want to be the cause of undue duress on those who were peripherally involved,” Chartley said, worried that a blood bath would erupt because of him.

“I am sorry to say that it is less about you than it is about Imperial power,” Pavel said.

“That is most disappointing,” Chartley said vapidly, making them chuckle.

“The Tsar views the situation as treason, and as a challenge to his authority. He has been furious these past few days,” Pavel said. Granger internally agreed with that statement, since the Tsar had been too out of sorts last night for Granger to enjoy their usual coupling. The Tsar had fucked him with a rage Granger had never experienced before, and while it had been fun in its own way, it was vaguely unsettling.

“At the beginning of his reign, to be so blatantly disobeyed, would offend the most placid of sovereigns, and no one could accuse our Tsar of being placid,” Alexei noted.

“The prison commandant was shot today,” Pavel noted. “The commandant of the fortress has been transferred to a minor command in the Caucasus. And orders to arrest the Governor of Kazan were dispatched today.” Those present at the table digested this information in silence, which was interrupted by the sounds of commotion near the entry. Granger’s mind flashed back to when Paul’s troops had arrived to arrest him, and he shared another knowing look, this one filled with concern, with Daventry.

“Perhaps I inadvertently offended His Imperial Majesty and he has decided to arrest me,” Chartley joked, although there was certainly a bit of apprehension buried beneath the humor.

“Five quid says they’re here for George,” Daventry joked, getting a foul look from Granger in return.

Before anyone could take him up on his offer, an officer and two soldiers of the Imperial Guard entered. “Our apologies for interrupting your dinner,” the officer said in French, bowing. “His Imperial Majesty commands Lord Granger to attend him at once.”

“It is a good thing no one accepted your bet,” Chartley observed to Daventry.

“When authorities are angry, it’s usually a good bet that Granger is involved,” Daventry joked.

“I will of course do as His Imperial Majesty commands,” Granger said, ignoring his fellow Englishmen. He rose from his chair and made to follow the officer when Pavel questioned them.

“Do you know what the Tsar wants with Lord Granger?” Pavel asked.

“No, Your Excellency,” the officer said respectfully, then got a bit nervous. “It is fair to say, though, that he was quite angry when he ordered us over here.”

“Well, I will find out what this is about shortly,” Granger said, and followed the guards out of the palace to the courtyard, where the Tsar’s carriage was waiting for him. He got in and found himself alone, with the officer opting to ride his horse. Granger could not imagine what he had done to irritate Alexander. He smiled briefly, wondering if the Tsar wanted him for more personal reasons, then pushed that aside. He would not send for Granger in such a manner, all but arresting him, only for carnal satisfaction. Granger found that he was curious, but not afraid. He had done nothing to worry about, and nothing to feel fear over, at least as far as the Tsar was concerned.

The carriage pulled up to the familiar entry to the Winter Palace, and as soon as the footmen opened the door, Granger gracefully hopped out and followed the officer into the palace. It was quiet tonight, with very few people milling about.

The Chamberlain greeted him at the door and led him to the Tsar’s private rooms. “This has not been a good night,” he said to Granger softly.

“Why?” Granger asked. The Chamberlain just shook his head, leaving the question unanswered. When they got to the Tsar’s office, the doors were closed, but they could hear men yelling behind the doors. Granger recognized one of the voices as being the Tsar’s. The other man with him yelled as well, which shocked Granger. Who would have the temerity to raise his voice to the Tsar of All the Russias? “Who is he meeting with?”

“His brother, Grand Duke Konstantin,” the Chamberlain said. That made the exchange less shocking, but not by much. They stood before the door and Granger was glad that he did not have the Chamberlain’s decision to make in this situation: Whether to interrupt them, or let them continue to argue. He must have labored it through in his mind, because the Chamberlain ultimately rapped on the door. That in itself was bold, since doors were rarely pounded on in such a fashion, they were usually scratched. The voices went silent, there was a pause, then the Tsar ordered them to enter.

Granger walked in and bowed, both to the Tsar and to the Grand Duke. The color was high in both their faces, a testament to the heated argument they’d been having, but they acknowledged his bows. The Grand Duke turned to the Tsar, gave him what seemed to be a surly bow, and then all but stormed out of the room. The Tsar waved off the Chamberlain. “Your Imperial Majesty, would you like me to pour you a glass?” Granger asked.

The Tsar nodded, then turned his back to Granger, and did not turn back around until Granger handed him a glass of port. When he did, his expression was once again one of anger. “Can you explain to me why a fleet consisting of eleven British warships has anchored off Reval?” That was the last thing Granger expected to be summoned about, but he should not have been surprised, since he had predicted this very thing when he’d met with the Russian naval officers.

“Begging Your Imperial Majesty’s pardon, but do they know who is in command of this fleet?” Granger asked.

“Your Lord Nelson,” the Tsar said, which made Granger chuckle a bit. “I do not think this is funny, so I would ask you to control your sense of humor,” the Tsar said curtly. Granger brought himself to a full military posture, and forced himself to act accordingly.

“I must apologize, Your Imperial Majesty, for seeming disrespectful. I was mindful of one of my first assignments under Lord Nelson when I was a young lieutenant in the Mediterranean.”

“And how is that relevant at all?” he demanded loudly.

“Sir, I was sent to Naples with Lord Nelson on a diplomatic mission,” Granger continued, ignoring the Tsar’s words. “Lord Hood pulled me aside and advised me to ensure he did not become a bull in a china shop. While he did quite well on that mission, but he is sometimes lacking in his understanding of finer diplomacy.”

“You are saying that this man is not trying to embarrass me in front of all of Europe?” the Tsar demanded.

“That is what I am saying, sir,” Granger said. “Admiral Nelson is the best admiral Britain has, maybe that Britain has ever had. He is a true warrior, the kind of man who when the quarterdeck is riddled with shot and others would lose their courage, he smiles, and relishes every minute. But that does not lessen his desire for peace. When he is given a task, he tackles it with a single focus, so in this case, I am positive that he is not here to insult you, he is here to try and convince you to end this conflict.”

“You do not think he is privy to the information that we have exchanged peace feelers with your government?” the Tsar asked, confused.

“If he was, he would not have acted this way, sir,” Granger said. Granger could see that the Tsar was still not convinced, but he also knew that the Tsar, like any monarch, appreciated a good soldier or sailor, so he opted to signify some of Nelson’s successes. “I know this man. I was with him at the Battle of Cape St. Vincent, where he broke the line to ensure the Spanish could not escape, and then attacked and captured an 80-gun Spanish battleship only to use her as a boarding platform to go on and capture a three-decked ship of the line. I watched him orchestrate and execute the most stunning naval victory in recent memory, where at the Battle of the Nile he destroyed or captured 11 of the 13 French battleships of Admiral De Brueys fleet.. At the same time, he has a deep respect for monarchs in general, his own first and foremost. He would not have acted in any way that he thought would offend Your Imperial Majesty. I think, that in his mind, his presence here is his own way of saluting you.”

“You’re saying this brilliant military commander sailed what is nominally an enemy fleet into my waters just to grace me with his presence?” the Tsar asked acidly. Nelson’s ego was massive, but Granger knew such men were common in the leadership of the Tsar’s own military, so this should not have come as a huge surprise.

“I believe that Lord Nelson is that confident, and he allowed that to misdirect his actions, sir,” Granger said.

“Perhaps it is less about confidence, and more about arrogance,” the Tsar noted.

“If you will pardon me for being candid, Your Imperial Majesty, Lord Nelson is Lord Nelson’s biggest fan,” Granger said.

The Tsar turned away for a few seconds, then turned back to Granger. “He must leave Russia at once.”

Granger swallowed hard, knowing now why his instincts had told him to stay here, and having a clear idea of what he needed to do. “Sir, when I tell Lord Nelson the situation, and tell him he must leave, he will leave.”

“He will listen to you?” the Tsar asked.

“Your Imperial Majesty, I am so confident that he will I can guarantee it,” Granger said.

“He must trust you as much as I do,” the Tsar said. With those words, he had closed discussion of this conflict, and turned it to one that was much more painful.

“May I speak candidly, Your Imperial Majesty?”

The Tsar had let his anger mostly dissipate, and he recognized that Granger was now the man he had shared so much with and not just a receptacle for his anger. “You may.”

“I have been delaying my departure from Russia, but with Lord Nelson here with the fleet, I believe this is my signal to depart,” Granger said.

“We knew this day would come, but it is not a happy one for me,” he said, making Granger smile slightly.

“Nor is it for me,” Granger replied. “In my mind I have fantasized about staying here, even though my duty and all my ties, my entire heritage demands that I return.”

“I am glad you found St. Petersburg to be so enjoyable,” he said uncomfortably.

“It is indeed a beautiful city, and I have made many friends whom I relish, but that is not the reason,” Granger said sincerely, boring his eyes into Alexander’s. “You are the reason.”

The Tsar smiled slightly, then took Granger into his arms and gave him a loving kiss. “You saved my life the night my father was killed, a debt I can never repay, but more than that, you have been a friend, someone I can trust. You must know how rare such a person is.”

“Doing whatever I can to serve you comes from within me, it is a natural force, not something I compel myself to do,” Granger said.

“You have been honest with me when others would not be, and when it was not to your advantage,” the Tsar said. “You are honorable beyond any measure.”

Granger stared at him, completely flummoxed by such praise. “Such words from you are more valuable than all the gold in Russia.”

“I admit that I too have been tempted to keep you here, voluntarily or otherwise,” he said with a slight smile, making Granger grin in response. “Both of us want that, but both of us know how impractical it is.”

“Of course you are right,” Granger said. “I would have to turn my back on my family, especially my father and my children, and I cannot do that.” They embraced in a meaningful hug, one that lasted for a long time, just enjoying the closeness and the bond they shared.

The Tsar finally broke off the embrace. “Perhaps you would like to spend some time in my banya tonight?” he asked suggestively.

Granger smiled broadly. “As Your Imperial Majesty commands.”

 

 

May 15, 1801

Stroganov Palace

St. Petersburg, Russia

 

Granger entered Chartley’s room to find him sleeping, which was not unusual. When he had first plead to stay in Russia due to his health, Granger had had a hard time understanding that, since he seemed so robust at times. But he had since learned those times were rare, and that Chartley did indeed spend most of his time resting.

He approached Chartley’s bed, ignoring Batu’s unpleasant look. “Chartley,” Granger said, and tapped his shoulder.

His eyes blinked a bit as he opened them. “George! You’ve come to disturb my sleep!”

“If I am to have any time to talk to you alone, it seems I must indeed do just that,” Granger said pleasantly. Chartley was sharp enough to get Granger’s message.

“Batu, please leave us,” Chartley said. Batu nodded, then got up and left.

“I fear I have vexed him,” Granger said.

“We are bonded, according to the custom of his tribe,” Chartley said. He had mentioned this before, but Granger wondered if there were more to it than a casual reference. He had thought was some reference to serfdom.

“Bonded?” Granger asked.

“Yes,” Chartley said. “Bonded, as an equivalent of marriage.”

Granger stared at him, struggling to hide the look of surprise. “I did not realize your commitment to each other extended that far.”

“It is complete,” Chartley said, almost as a challenge.

“Is that why you are not returning to England with me?” Granger asked. Chartley made to argue, but Granger interrupted him. “You are well enough to survive sea travel aboard a large ship.”

“That is why,” Chartley admitted. “I am trying to determine where to go where we will not be outcasts.”

“If you live openly, as if you are man and wife, I am hard pressed to think of anywhere civilized,” Granger said. By ‘civilized,’ like most people of his class, he was referring to Europe.

“Sadly you are correct,” Chartley said. “Even in the rest of the world we would be pilloried, unless we lived on a deserted island,”

“That would have different challenges,” Granger noted with a wry smile. “I would think that if you would allow people to view you as a servant and master devoted to one another, you would be able to fit in anywhere.”

“That is hardly fair to Batu,” Chartley objected. Granger was surprised and impressed by the depth of his love for the Mongolian.

“If your alternatives are to be outcasts, where your lives are threatened constantly because of how you live, as opposed to a life partly hidden, I am not sure it is less fair,” Granger noted.

“You know, George, I am richer now than I ever imagined, but even all of my money can’t solve this problem,” Chartley said sadly.

“I am sure the surprise you are experiencing is similar to that of merchants who suddenly realize that all of their riches won’t buy them admittance to certain parts of society,” Granger noted. They both knew he was referring to the Guild.

“I suppose I could return to England, or perhaps go to Ireland,” Chartley said. “Or perhaps one of the colonies.”

“Those are all options,” Granger said. “Regardless, the next step you take will need to happen in London.”

“You are probably right, but I would like to prepare myself for what awaits me there,” he said. “I want to minimize the difficulties Batu has, so I need to work that through as much as I can.”

“I can certainly understand that,” Granger said.

“Thank you, George, for everything,” Chartley said. “I remember our meeting in Naples, and how horrible I was to you. Yet here we are, some years later, and you are probably my best friend.”

“With the possible exception of Bertie,” Granger said.

“I wonder how he would react to my situation with Batu?” Chartley mused.

“I think that unless it affected Bertie, he would not care a fig,” Granger said, reminding Chartley of Bertie’s self-absorption, and making them both laugh. “I think that as long as it was not scandalous, he would have no objection. I also think that if you explained the depth of your relationship with Batu, he would be most accepting.”

“That seems unlikely,” he said.

“He knows of your preferences,” Granger said. “He even told me of the night you two coupled.”

“How did he know about me?” Chartley demanded.

“He is a most perceptive person, and in his own way, he does care about you. He told me that he tried having sex with you once because he cared that much about you, but found that being with another man, even you, was not part of him,” Granger said.

“That is probably the most touching thing he’s ever done,” Chartley said, chuckling. “It may make India a more attractive option than I had envisioned.”

“Regardless, you must first transit back to London, if only so you don’t alienate the government and your entire family,” Granger said.

“You are probably right, but I would rather bide my time,” Chartley said.

“It is most certainly your decision,” Granger replied. “In the meantime, do not try to destroy what goodwill Daventry and I have created here in Russia.”

“I will do my best,” Chartley said. “When are you departing?”

“Daventry and I leave in the morning to go to the Peterhof,” Granger said. “The Tsar is honoring us by taking us there early. It is supposedly the most beautiful of all palaces, not just those in Russia.”

“I suppose every person says that about a palace in their country,” Chartley said, suggesting the Russians were not being very objective.

“Oh, and which palace in Britain would you nominate?” Granger asked, remembering his conversation with Daventry about how terribly unimpressive British Royal Palaces were.

“And you have just destroyed my argument,” Chartley said, making both of them laugh.

“We are to be there for a few days, until the 19th, at which time a lugger will take us to Nelson,” Granger said.

“Is Nelson going to wait for you?” Chartley asked with surprise.

“It is a dodgy thing, since he hates to wait for anyone,” Granger said, laughing with Chartley over Nelson’s impetuousness. “I received the Tsar’s permission to allow him to remain anchored off Reval until May 20th, so I dispatched a letter to him on the 13th asking him to remain there.”

“Presumably he will listen to you,” Chartley said.

“Presumably,” Granger said. “When you return to England, you always have a place with me. Our household would perhaps be an easier way to integrate Batu into English society.”

“Thank you for that, George,” Chartley said. “If you have no objection, I will add that to my thoughts as I mull over my plans.”

“It was not a one-time offer, but a continuous invitation,” Granger said. He leaned into the bed and hugged Chartley for a long time. “Safe travels, my friend. I will look forward to seeing you in England.”

 

 

Copyright © 2017 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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drpaladin

Posted (edited)

On 1/21/2022 at 2:00 AM, raven1 said:

Chartley and Batu may find refuge with George's grandfather in the West Indies.  I hope that George will find Nelson waiting to take him home.

Considering his issues with fever, it might not be ideal, and George's grandfather won't be governor forever.

Edited by drpaladin
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