Northern Exposure - 69. Chapter 69

June 21, 1801

Brentwood

 

For the third day in a row, Granger found himself being jostled by rough roads, only this time he was riding in his own carriage, which was much more luxurious and much better sprung than the one they’d hired. “Your carriage is almost as posh as your vozok,” Daventry joked.

“It is important to travel in style,” Granger said vapidly. He was in a good mood, having spent last night bonding with Cavendish both physically and emotionally. He had topped that off with a bath, and as a result felt newly energized. “It is a good morning to be off to London.”

“I am glad that you think so,” Daventry grumbled. He had drunk a bit too much last night and had a hangover as a result.

“I do,” Granger said.

“And when are the two of you planning to make your entry back into society?” Cavendish asked.

“Dashed bad timing on our part,” Daventry said. “The season ends in a week.”

“Ah, but there are all the summer activities to occupy you,” Granger said. “I am sure you will find yourself in Brighton soon enough, and just as hungover.” The thought of being with the Prince of Wales at his seaside retreat evidently overrode Daventry’s reserves of composure, causing him to stand up and throw open the door of the coach, then vomit as it slowed.

“Should we stop, my lord?” the coachman asked Daventry.

“I will be fine,” Daventry grumbled. “Drive on.” He returned to his seat, serenaded by the uncontrolled laughter of his traveling companions. “I will remember this the next time you two are unwell,” he growled at them, making the laugh even harder.

“I am a bit surprised that Caroline has opted to conduct an affair with Colonel Stewart,” Granger said. Cavendish and Daventry looked at him in surprise, for the statement had come seemingly out of the blue That showed just how much this bothered Granger.

“I have a theory,” Cavendish said, then waited for some acknowledgement before continuing.

“Let us hear it,” Granger said, with a hint of dread in his voice.

“I think that Caroline really wants to be a man,” Cavendish said.

“I am not sure how one would handle that biologically,” Daventry said.

“I meant she wants to have the status men have in society,” Cavendish said, rolling his eyes at Daventry’s comment. “She seems frustrated that she cannot be in Parliament, she cannot be a minister, and she will never be treated the same way as a man who wields as much power as she does.”

“I can see that,” Daventry mused.

“After her father died, it seemed to get worse, and that is when she began her affair with Stewart,” Cavendish said.

“It is hard to believe anyone mourned the death of her father,” Granger said, getting laughs from Daventry and Cavendish.

“That much is certain,” Daventry agreed. “Still, I can see what Cavendish is saying. The death of her father may have affected her greatly.”

Granger pondered that, then nodded. “She learned much from her father,” he said.

“She is nothing like Lord Heathford was,” Daventry said, correcting him.

“It is possible to learn much from someone who does wrong things if one is aware they are wrong,” Granger said.

“Quite so,” Cavendish agreed.

“Caroline and I had spoken about her frustration when I return from a voyage, and how I step into my place as head of the family and upset her world,” Granger said. The others noticed the bitterness that was underlying his words.

“As I recall, she was concerned that you would come back and be nicer to your tenants than she was, and take over your empire, such as it is,” Daventry noted.

“And that is what I am saying,” Cavendish said. “And I am suggesting it has gotten worse since her father died. Perhaps it is because she controls Heathford, which is in trust for Alexander, and she now has the power of a lord over a fiefdom.”

“It is unfortunate for her that society will not acknowledge that role, and will condemn her for forgetting her place,” Granger said, not a little annoyed. She was acting like a rich merchant who was suddenly demanding a seat in the House of Lords.

“She has found that many will be quick to work with her, as long as it furthers their own interests as well,” Cavendish noted, remarking on the total lack of morals of most politicians. “Being connected to Lord Castlereagh is not a bad strategy.”

“By sleeping with his brother?” Granger asked acidly, getting a smirk from Daventry.

“There are different kinds of connections,” Daventry said to Granger.

“So it seems,” Granger said with resignation. He would have to learn to deal with his wife, who seemed hell bent and determined to destroy her reputation.

“Tell us of the government,” Daventry said to Cavendish, both to change the topic and out of genuine curiosity.

“Those who are in power now are not as important as who is going to be in power in the future,” Cavendish said.

“And who are these future demi-gods?” Granger asked, getting his sense of humor back now that the discussion had moved beyond Caroline.

“Hawkesbury, Castlereagh, and Canning,” Cavendish responded.

“I find that surprising,” Daventry said as he pondered it.

“Remember that we are talking about the future,” Cavendish noted.

Daventry contemplated Cavendish’s words, then finally spoke. “On second thought, I think you are right.”

“Indeed?” Granger asked.

“Those three are the only government men who have the potential to truly lead the country,” Daventry noted. “The others are competent, more or less, but these men are lions compared to them.”

“I find Hawkesbury to be a bit dull,” Granger noted. “At the same time, he seems smart and efficient.”

“He is unnaturally tall, and he surely has the longest neck of anyone in the Kingdom,” Daventry observed. They laughed because it was true. “His overall appearance is somewhat shabby as a result.”

“You would like him more if he were a dandy?” Granger teased. “That is your criterion for a politician?” Daventry frowned, making Cavendish and Granger laugh.

“I fear Daventry is right,” Cavendish said. “He is tall but not robust, and that, combined with his usually dour and melancholy expression, gives him his shambling appearance. James Hare aptly noted that Hawkesbury looked ‘as if he had been on the rack three times, and saw the wheel preparing for a fourth.’ That made all of them laugh.

“That being said, he is a useful orator and debater,” Daventry noted.

“I have been singularly impressed with his good nature and lack of vindictiveness,” Granger observed. “Those qualities seem a good tradeoff against his sometimes awkward manners.”

“Perhaps he looks so good because the other members of the cabinet are so bad?” Daventry quipped.

“He is not a showman, but his competence makes him solid and reliable,” Cavendish said. “He is one of Pitt’s proteges, and the King is very fond of him.” Hawkesbury’s father, Lord Liverpool, was very close to the King. In a sense, Granger and Hawkesbury were in similar situations, where their fathers contributed to their popularity with the Crown.

“I have always liked Castlereagh,” Granger said, steering the object of their conversation away from Hawkesbury to the handsome Irish peer. “Despite the fact that his brother is fucking my wife.” That made the three of them laugh.

“Castlereagh is certainly not awkward, nor is he a showman,” Cavendish said. “He conducts himself as a true aristocrat.”

“No wonder you like him,” Daventry said to Granger in a smarmy way, all but accusing Granger of being a snob.

“I have found him to be refined and honorable,” Granger responded succinctly. “He is also the most handsome member of Parliament.”

“In the Commons,” Cavendish said. “But not in the Lords.”

“Yes,” Daventry said flippantly. “I fear that if he were in the Lords, I would eclipse him.” That made all of them laugh.

“It is disturbing that Canning has that much promise,” Granger grumbled, because he did not like the man.

“And what do you have against Canning?” Daventry asked, because he liked him.

“He has a jealous mind and that makes him prone to leap to the wrong conclusions. He then uses his acerbic wit and satirical prose to persecute those who have done him no wrong. When he realizes that he has erred, he acts as if the person he has wronged has in fact wronged him,” Granger observed. The others looked at Granger with mild curiosity because they knew Granger was right.

“How interesting that the one of us who is least involved in politics can sum up Canning so well,” Cavendish said.

“Perhaps that is because I am more of an outside observer,” Granger said hastily.

“Canning is a cad, but quite brilliant,” Cavendish noted. “That he thinks of himself as a member of the ton is laughable, yet he muscles his way in, at least in certain situations.”

“I think he is very talented, and do not share your disdain for his plebeian background,” Daventry said, all but calling Cavendish a snob.

“You think that being the son of an actress and a bankrupt man of commerce is a suitable lineage to be a statesman?” Cavendish challenged.

“I can live with it,” Daventry said pragmatically. What he meant was that he would put up with it as long as it kept him on the government team. Granger could sense that Cavendish was just waiting to pounce on that, and all but accuse Daventry of betraying his fellow aristocrats, so he changed the subject.

“I am willing to bet that I can get Beau Brummel to take me shopping,” Granger said, throwing down that challenge. They both blinked at him in surprise, mostly because of his abrupt change of topic.

“Brummel shops with no one,” Cavendish asserted.

“He does not,” Daventry confirmed. Granger was not concerned with their objections because he had thought this through and had a plan to get Brummel to help him win his bet.

“Then this should be an easy-enough wager for both of you,” Granger said to them flippantly.

“You have excellent taste,” Cavendish observed. “I cannot see why you would even need his assistance.” That was very sound logic, but this wasn’t about rational reasons; it was about the challenge. It was about winning.

“It sounds as if you are nervous because you have already decided I will win,” Granger replied.

Cavendish frowned, while Daventry smirked. “Alright, I will accept that wager,” Cavendish said.

“What shall the stakes be?” Granger asked.

“10 guineas,” Cavendish suggested hastily, pre-empting Daventry lest he suggest a much higher wager.

“That is acceptable,” Daventry said.

“So I am wagering 10 guineas with each of you that I can get the Beau to take me shopping, correct?” Granger asked.

“Correct,” Daventry said.

“Correct,” Cavendish agreed, and so the wager was set.

“I would suggest you gentlemen make sure you have that sum of money set aside to cover your losses,” Granger said confidently. They both responded with gestures that indicated the same thing as rolling one’s eyes.

The carriage pulled up to Granger’s house in Portland Place, where Granger jumped out first. He admired this beautiful townhouse that had been a gift from his grandfather. Daventry and Cavendish disembarked from the carriage, while Winkler and Boles exited the other coach that had followed him. Granger strode up to the door, which opened as if by magic. “Welcome home, my lord,” Cheevers said. He was their butler here in Portland Place, and while his words were pleasant, they were enhanced by his beaming smile.

“It is good to see you, Cheevers,” Granger said pleasantly. There was some movement from behind him, and that mystery was solved when Lefavre, Granger’s chef, revealed himself. “I have most definitely missed you,” Granger said to him. The Frenchman embraced him, a greeting that was warmly reciprocated by Granger even as Cheevers looked on disapprovingly.

“I am glad to see you survived this latest trek, my lord,” Lefavre said grumpily.

“Once I attend to a few things, I have a present for you,” Granger said. Cavendish ascended the stairs to his room and took Daventry along as well to get him situated in a guest room.

“I am at your lordship’s service,” Lefavre said. Granger went into his study, followed by his chef, while Winkler vanished to Granger’s room to get his clothes ready for tomorrow. Granger dashed off a note to Nelson, advising him that he had arrived in London and that Nelson was more than welcome to stay with him when he came into town. He also told Nelson he had planned to host a dinner celebration after Nelson’s presentation in the Lords. He had Cheevers send that off to Merton via a courier, then he was able to focus on his chef.

Granger pulled a piece of paper from his satchel and handed it to Lefavre. “This is a recipe for Beef à la Stroganov,” Granger said. “It is a secret Stroganov recipe but Count Stroganov entrusted a copy to me provided I guaranteed not to reveal it to anyone else.”

Lefavre scanned it with interest. “I will of course honor your commitment to Count Stroganov, my lord. I think I will attempt to create this for dinner tomorrow.”

“I suspect we may have quite a crowd visiting, although I cannot be sure,” Granger noted. “I just invited Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton to dine here after our appearance in the Lords.”

“I will ensure there is plenty, my lord,” Lefavre said with a crafty smile. “If I make too much, I will share the leftovers with the staff.”

“An excellent idea,” Granger said with a chuckle. He went up to see what Winkler had assembled for him to wear the next day, then hosted his friends to an excellent dinner courtesy of Lefavre.

“And what are your plans tonight?” Daventry asked. He was clearly animated to hit the town.

“I am going to call on my parents, then I am going to return here, indulge in a long bath, and get some sleep,” Granger said.

“That sounds absolutely dull,” Daventry responded with disdain.

“As we have just returned, it seemed wiser to stay out of the limelight,” Granger noted.

“That is a very good decision,” Cavendish said. “Please let me know when you’re back and I’ll join you in the baths.”

“I will do that,” Granger said, shooting him a lascivious smile that Daventry didn’t see.

“So you are suggesting that I stay here, cooped up?” Daventry asked, so annoyed that his plans to go out were foiled.

“I am not suggesting that at all,” Granger said. “I am suggesting that you avoid polite company and carouse with the rakes you normally associate with when you visit the local whore houses.”

Cavendish laughed. “I think you are quite naïve to think that polite company cannot also visit a local whorehouse,” Daventry replied, making all of them laugh.

“That is a point well made,” Granger agreed.

“Nonetheless, I appreciate your counsel,” he said, standing up to leave. “I will be in the Lords tomorrow.”

“Try not to vomit on the earl sitting in front of you,” Granger teased. Daventry left, and that was Granger’s cue to go as well. He summoned his carriage, pausing to tell Winkler of his plans, then jumped into the vehicle for the brief ride to Grosvenor Square. The carriage pulled up to this house Granger had lived in for most of his life, and he smiled at the good memories that it evoked. He deftly exited the carriage and strode up to the doors, happy to find them opened for him.

“Welcome home, my lord,” Franklin said with a rare smile. He was the butler here, and had watched Granger and his brothers grow up.

“It is very good to see you, Franklin,” Granger said, shaking his hand as he did. “Are my parents at home?”

“Your lordship’s timing is most opportune,” Franklin said. “They have just sat down to dinner.”

“That is indeed good timing,” Granger agreed with a grin. Franklin whispered something to a footman then led Granger through the main room to the ornate and spacious dining room. His parents were there, as were Freddie and Davina.

“Your Grace, Lord Granger has returned,” Franklin announced. Granger’s father rose bearing a big smile and walked over to greet him, followed by Granger’s mother.

“George,” the Duke of Suffolk said as he hugged him tightly. “This is the best possible surprise.”

“It is good to be home,” Granger said, then moved on to greet his mother.

“We had heard you were on your way home, but did not think you would arrive so soon,” the Duchess of Suffolk said. “I am so glad I am still in town to greet you.”

“Thank you, mother,” Granger said. “I am glad that our schedules seemed to blend as well.” The past few times Granger had returned from sea the Duchess had been out of town.

“We haven’t heard much of what you’ve been up to, but the Cabinet has been raving about you and Daventry, so I suspect it is something spectacular,” Freddie said. Freddie was the oldest of the Duke’s three sons. Despite only being in his late 20’s, his hair was already thinning on top, making him look much older. In addition, he had the beginnings of a pot belly, something that would be expected only of someone much older than he was.

“I fear that you will be disappointed,” Granger said.

Davina, his sister-in-law, decorously held out her hand to him, which Granger held as he kissed it. Davina usually all but threw herself at Granger, so this level of restraint was quite surprising. “Welcome home, George,” she said. Her voice was calm and serene, making it seem that she was almost aping her mother-in-law.

“It is good to see you,” Granger said, smiling at her. “You seem even more polished and refined than before.”

She raised an eyebrow in irritation. “You are suggesting I did not act in a respectable way?” Granger had to steel himself not to laugh in her face, because she had behaved in anything but a respectable way in the past.

“I was merely observing that you have evolved into a doyenne of society,” he responded.

“Come George, join us for dinner,” his father said. Franklin had been so efficient that no one had noticed that a footman had added a plate for George to the table.

“With pleasure,” Granger said. The food they ate was good, but not as good as that he’d just consumed in Portland Place.

“Your appetite seems to have diminished,” his mother observed.

He opted not to tell her he had already eaten, fearing that would be rude. “I am striving hard to maintain my waistline at its current width,” he joked back.

“It can be a challenge,” Freddie said with annoyance, making Granger realize that in his effort to placate his mother he had inadvertently insulted his brother. Conversation flowed freely after that, with Granger regaling them with his experiences at the Danish, Swedish, and Russian courts, while they spoke to him of the court here in England. Granger found that he wasn’t as relaxed as he normally was, and tried to discern why that was. He first thought it was because he had hurt Freddie’s feelings with his comment about waistlines, but the tension was coming from all of them, so it had to be a much broader issue.

They finished dinner and withdrew to the parlor for a drink. Normally one would have expected the women to leave them, but this was an intimate family evening so they all chose to stay together. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner,” Granger said as a prelude to leaving.

“George, I am wondering if I may raise an issue with you?” Freddie asked.

“Certainly,” Granger said, his defenses now fully awakened.

“We have been unable to get any news of Lady Kendal’s estate,” he said. “We were told by her attorney that he must first meet with you.”

“I received a letter from him to that effect, and dispatched a message to him yesterday,” Granger replied.

“We have been talking, and seeing that Lady Kendal wasn’t of the clearest of minds, we were thinking that we should work out a deal between all of us on how to divide her estate,” Freddie said nervously. And with that statement, Granger now understood the reason for the tension at dinner.

“It would just make so much more sense to take matters into our own hands,” Davina echoed. Of course, inheriting money would be of vital interest to both her and Freddie, since their finances were rumored to usually be precarious.

“What did you have in mind?” Granger asked, his eyes zeroing in on his father, who seemed to shrink at that non-verbal challenge.

“We thought it would be reasonable to divide it into thirds, with one share going to you, one to me, and one to father,” Freddie said.

“And Bertie did not factor into this?” Granger asked, not quite able to hide his outrage. His mother was the only one who seemed to share that emotion, but that made sense since Bertie had always been her favorite son.

“It was thought that, as he had managed to build a fortune in India, he would not require additional funds,” the Duke said cautiously.

“I must decline your offer,” Granger concluded, even as he stood up.

“You are just hoping she will leave everything to you,” Freddie said. “Are you not being just a bit greedy?” His pleasantness had now faded since he was annoyed that his sales pitch had not worked.

“I have no idea how Lady Kendal opted to dispose of her estate, but I think it is highly inappropriate for us to presume to override her wishes on how her assets are distributed,” Granger said coldly. “Thank you again for dinner,” he said to his parents, then strode out of the room, down the steps, and hopped in his carriage.

He walked into his house to find Winkler and Cheevers waiting for him. Seeing the two of them largely erased his bad mood. “Shall we ready the baths, my lord?” Cheevers asked.

“Yes, I would appreciate that,” Granger said to Cheevers. “I would also ask that you alert Freck as he was planning to join me.” They both smiled, holding back chuckles, at Granger’s use of Cavendish’s nickname. Winkler followed him up the stairs and proceeded to help him shed his clothes and put on a bathing robe.

“Have you heard from her ladyship yet, my lord?” Winkler asked. He almost recoiled at Granger’s frown.

“I have not,” Granger replied in annoyance, then mellowed. “As I have only arrived home, I am not sure if she has even received news that I am here, much less responded with a message.” Winkler tried not to look skeptical about that. “Keep in mind that when I first dispatched a messenger from Great Yarmouth, it was to her ladyship here in London.”

“Of course, my lord,” Winkler said hastily, since both of them knew it was entirely probable that messages had been dispatched to Caroline from both Brentwood and London as soon as they had learned he was home. Granger tried to work his way out of the bad mood he’d acquired from dinner with his family and from his conversation with Winkler, but he wasn’t entirely successful until he got to the baths and found Cavendish relaxing in the soapy tub.

Granger tossed off his robe, jumped into the tub with Cavendish, and undulated his ass on the shaft of Cavendish’s hard dick while he kissed him. He still was amazed at how when their lips met, it was like a complete merging. “My turn,” Granger said, as he aligned Cavendish’s cock with his hole and sat down on him, savoring the feel of his ass filling up. After they climaxed, Granger helped Cavendish over to the larger pool to rinse off.

“That is always amazing,” Cavendish said, his cheeks red from the force of his orgasm.

“It always is,” Granger said. “Are you still seeing Ward?”

“Were you celibate when you were gone?” Cavendish challenged angrily. He stared at Granger waiting for a response, and when he didn’t get one he made to get out of the bath.

“Please allow me to collect my thoughts,” Granger said, all but pleading. Cavendish frowned at him then sat back, while Granger’s mind whirled as he contemplated the idiotic trap he’d set for himself. “When I asked you that, I was thinking of my own travels and the men I have met.”

“I’m not sure I want to hear about that,” Cavendish snapped.

“You do, you really do,” Granger teased, getting a smile from Cavendish.

“Look George, I love being with you, but I cannot be only with you,” Cavendish said. Granger started laughing, which annoyed Cavendish.

“I was just thinking of a conversation I had with one of my midshipmen a number of years ago. I explained to him that he could not only be with me, that it would not work,” Granger said. Cavendish smiled, remembering that conversation, then laughed with him.

“Your midshipman learned well,” Cavendish said. “What we have is special, but I do not want to feel that if I am with someone else, I am betraying you.”

Granger paused as he thought about that and analyzed his feelings. “I find that I am in the same place you are. There is a bond of trust between us that supersedes any kind of sexual behavior with other people.”

“I have been worried about this, about how to explain how I felt to you without hurting you,” Cavendish said, then kissed Granger. “I am so happy we are on the same page.”

“We are,” Granger agreed. “You should bring Ward home to enjoy the baths with me.” Cavendish looked annoyed. “I should have said ‘with us’.”

“We’ll see about that,” Cavendish said. “How was your meeting with your parents?”

“Freddie and Davina were there as well,” Granger noted, even as he grimaced. “All through dinner there was a hidden tension, and it was only afterwards that I learned the cause of it.”

“And what had made them so uptight?” Cavendish asked.

“They are worried about Lady Kendal’s estate,” Granger said. “They wanted my agreement that, no matter how her will was drafted, we would split the estate into three pieces: one for me, one for Freddie, and one for my father.”

“Not Bertie?”

“They feel he is already rich enough, and will not need it,” Granger said, letting out his anger.

“That is probably true, but if he were cut out, I suspect he would feel quite wounded,” Cavendish accurately noted. “What did you say?”

“I told them that I would support her will as it was written, no matter what the results were,” Granger replied.

“You know what this means?” Cavendish asked.

“I am not sure,” Granger said.

“It means that you must be Lady Kendal’s primary heir,” Cavendish said.

“It is so typical that Freddie would once again try to take money from my purse,” Granger grumbled.

“He is an ultra-Tory,” Cavendish said. “It is their way.”