St. Vincent - 34. Chapter 34

March 8, 1797

“Pregnant?” he asked, stunned. There was so much in that statement that Granger’s mind just whirled, flying from confused thought to confused thought.

“Yes,” she muttered. Granger stood there, holding his wife, frozen in place. She looked up at him, at his expression, and shrieked, a cry of agony, and fled from the room, leaving him standing there alone, pondering what that meant.

Unless this was a divine conception, she’d clearly had an affair. Granger let that bother him for a moment, but as he began to visualize his wife in the arms of another, making love to another man, the minor irritation compounded exponentially until the cold fury of jealousy pulsed through his veins. Another man had probably been in his house, acting as lord of the manor, interacting with his children, and fucking his wife. He instinctively grasped for his sword, as if ready to do battle with this unknown man who had plowed fields that were Granger’s. His eyes searched around the room, as if looking for an exit. He felt trapped, suffocated. Gradually, quite gradually, those feelings ebbed, and Granger’s more logical and thoughtful side asserted itself.

It was that side of him that pushed him into action. Caroline had fled the room, despondent, and while he’d dithered about, grappling with his emotions, she’d been in another room, worried that he did not love her. He tromped about the house, looking for her, until he found her in their bedroom, lying face down on the bed. He approached her cautiously and sat on the bed next to her, alerting her to his presence, and then gently rubbed her back.

“You don’t hate me?” she asked.

“Of course I don’t hate you,” he told her emphatically.

“You should.” Clearly this was part of her punishment, this self-flagellation.

“Caroline, as I recall, when I told you that I fancied other men, and told you of my affairs with them, you were upset and disoriented, but in the end, you forgave me.” She looked at him wide-eyed and nodded. “I daresay that you’ve even grown to accept that facet of my life.” She nodded again. “You must think me the biggest hypocrite in the world, to have you treat me so honorably, then to turn around and detest you for sins of the flesh.”

“An affair is one thing, bringing a child, a bastard, into the world is entirely different,” she snapped.

“How many affairs have you had?” he asked, wondering if this was the first, or if she just hadn’t told him before and was now forced to since she was pregnant.

“I’m not a whore, George,” she said. Her mood had become bitchy, but Granger endured it with forbearance. He knew that she was still distraught. She sighed when he did not respond, a gesture he completely understood. “This is the first.”

“How far along are you?” he asked, referring to her pregnancy.

“I think I am two months gone already,” she said.

“Then my arrival home is timely,” he said, thinking out loud. “No wonder you were happy to see me.” That last sentence had sneaked out; he hadn’t meant to say it, but it was indicative of the turmoil he was experiencing.

“That’s a horrible thing to say, George! I am always glad for your returns. I am always happy to have you here. If you had been here, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

He glared at her. “You cannot blame your indiscretion on my absence. I was doing my duty.” His voice was firm and strong, reminding her of the world they came from, and lived in, and that they had obligations that transcended their own relationship.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I am so overwrought about this; I am not functioning like a normal person.”

“We’re on the same side, Caroline. We’re a team,” he asserted. “Or don’t you remember that?”

She was about to get mad at him, but she saw his smile, the playful one he gave her when he was teasing her. Her reaction, her emotional outbursts, were a symptom of how much she loved this man, and how mad she was at herself for being unfaithful to him. “I remember,” she said. Having him here in front of her reminded her of why she picked him to be her husband in the first place. There hadn’t been any suitable men that were more handsome than George, with his long oval face, blond hair, and bright blue eyes, but there had been some who were just as handsome. But to Caroline, looks weren’t nearly as important as brains, and George had those in abundance. He was witty, he was smart, and he was charming, and she had completely betrayed him. She was about to submerge herself into another depressing session of self-recrimination when he stopped her.

“I’m here for you.”

She smiled at him, her heart warming to this incredible man. “I feared you wouldn’t be, even though I knew you would.”

He lay next to her and pulled her to him, holding her close while he stroked her back. He braced himself, then asked the question he’d been longing to ask since he’d found out. “Who is the father?”

“Prince William,” she said.

“The Duke of Clarence?” Granger asked, amazed. How strange was that, that he’d had sex with the same man who had seduced his wife?

“No,” Caroline said dismissively, as if the duke wasn’t someone she’d even want to sleep with. Granger found that odd. He’d found the duke to be quite sexy and attractive. “His Highness, Prince William of Gloucester.”

“The King’s favorite nephew?” Granger asked. He knew Gloucester from Court, and didn’t really like the man. He could see where he would be attractive to women, though. He was young, the same age as Granger, and handsome enough, but the biggest attraction was that he was a member of the Royal Family.

“Yes,” she said.

“He’s a bit of a boor,” Granger observed. His nickname was ‘Silly Billy’ and he was one of those men who was incredibly conscious of his position and rank. Granger found it hilarious that even the King wasn’t as big of a stickler for precedence and protocol as Gloucester was.

Caroline gave him a dirty look. “He’s handsome and charming.”

“See and I would have said he was a pretentious sod,” Granger joked.

“How can a prince be pretentious?”

“When the King’s nephew thinks he’s more important than the King’s own sons, he’s pretentious,” Granger answered.

“He’s not pretentious,” she asserted.

“Do you love him?”

“I have feelings for him, but it is not love. I think it is more of an infatuation, but because I am carrying his child, it has made us closer than we probably would otherwise have been.” Granger studied her closely, trying to read her mind, to determine if she was serious or if she was lying. She seemed to be serious.

“I will not interfere with you if you want to be with him,” Granger offered, more as a test to see if she was honest than with any real sincerity. “I would just ask that you use discretion.”

“No one knows about this George,” she asserted. He wasn’t really as interested in that part of the statement; he wanted her to answer the first part. He said nothing until she did. “It’s not like that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I was very lonely. It was after that whole ruckus with your father and Davina. Cavendish had been around less, since he’s got a conflict of interest. Davina is his cousin, after all. Arthur was acting strangely. Sir Phillip Kerry had gone off, chasing after you.” Her tone indicated that she knew there was much more to their relationship than a friendship. Or that there had been, Granger thought grimly. “Even Chartley had vanished into the country to further recover from his wounds.”

“You have other friends,” Granger said.

“Yes, but those are the men I usually associate with, who escort me about, or who spend time with me. I met His Highness at court, and he was nice to me. He made me feel attractive, George. And when I was with him, I could forget about my problems.”

That really made Granger angry, because it implied that he and his family were ‘problems’. “You have chosen this life, you have opted to amass and wield power. You cannot blame me when the life you build does not then make you happy.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You said he made you forget your problems. I suppose I am just a problem to you,” he spat.

Until then, it had seemed that Caroline had been the emotionally wounded person, and that Granger had been the calmer, more rational partner. That last comment indicated a shift in their positions, and Caroline realized that her husband was grappling with this quite well on the surface, but not so well beneath it. “George, when I told you that if you’d been here that this never would have happened, I wasn’t being a bitch. I meant it. You really are all that I need. But you weren’t here, and I was lonely. I wasn’t a whore. I didn’t sleep with half the Guards regiment like my sister-in-law does. I found one man who gave me a little comfort. It would have been fine, but I got pregnant.”

“Fine, in that you wouldn’t have had to tell me about it?” Granger demanded.

“I probably wouldn’t,” she said honestly. “I really don’t want to know who you’ve been with. I would assume that you don’t want to know either.”

“I don’t know if I want to know or not,” Granger answered honestly. “If you do this again, I mean.”

“Well you’ll have to let me know if you want to know,” she said, joking a bit.

“Are you planning to have more affairs?” Granger asked her.

“I’m not sure, George.” She could have really beat up on him for that, but she knew he’d put the pieces together without her pointing it out to him. She knew that he’d realize that it was grossly unfair for him to fuck other men while she was condemned to a life of chastity when he was at sea.

She could almost watch his mind work as he tumbled things around in there, searching for solutions. He finally came to what appeared to be a conclusion. “I am not home that often. I would ask that you avoid doing that while I am.” Caroline almost laughed at his use of the term ‘doing that’, because it sounded so prudish.

“You have not always done that for me. You have entertained Francis in this very house while I was here.”

“And I have also pledged to be with no other women,” he said, opening a whole new dimension to their conversation.

“George, if I meet a man and fall for him enough that I want to have contact with him while you’re home, we’ll discuss it. We don’t have that problem with William.”

“I guess we will,” he said coolly. “I am going to have something to eat, and take a bath.” He didn’t invite her to join him, because he didn’t want her company. He wanted to be alone, to think about things.

He went into his dressing room and found Winkler waiting for him. “Will you need anything else, sir?” He clearly thought that Granger would just go to bed, and probably have sex with his wife.

“I need something to eat. I am famished, and no one seems to be worried whether or not I starve to death,” Granger snapped, venting his foul mood on Winkler. It was something he rarely did, so Winkler was more worried than offended. “Then I’ll have a bath. Please ask them to heat up the water for me.”

“Aye aye sir,” Winkler said automatically, an unusual slip up for him. He was pretty good about transitioning seamlessly into the norms of land life. His error made Granger smile, and helped erase some of his bad mood.

Winkler got the staff motivated to take care of their lord and master, and things came together rather quickly. Granger had a nice dinner in his sitting room, then put on his robe and went down for a relaxing bath. He floated in the warm water, feeling the salt seep from his pores, relishing the feeling of being clean. He heard the water splash as someone stepped in the pool, and he looked up from his thoughts to see Caroline getting in. “You did not invite me to join you, but I hope my presence is not unwelcome,” she said.

“Not at all,” he said, smiling at her. She took off her robe, exposing her body as she did. If anything, the years had made her even sexier. She’d added some more curves to her body with the extra weight she’d added. She’d used to look slightly emaciated before, but now she looked full, soft, and curvaceous.

“I understand if you don’t want to be with me,” she said.

He saw the pain in her eyes when she said that, and moved toward her, took her in his arms, and playfully threw her in the pool. She came up spluttering and laughing, and then splashed him. She lunged at him and tackled him, and they wrestled until the contact of their bodies fueled their lust and desire. Then they ceased to be two proud and powerful individuals, maneuvering to explain what they needed and wanted, and became a couple, united both emotionally and physically.

There were times when Granger had animalistic sex with his wife, a raw fuck where he slammed into her over and over again until they were both stimulated to orgasm. This was not one of those times. This time he made love to her, holding her virtually in place on his lap. While they kissed and caressed each other, he moved slowly in and out of her, bringing them to a blisteringly intense orgasm with complete deliberation.

Caroline clung to him, panting after they were done. “I cannot believe I did not just agree with you right away. I cannot imagine wanting anyone else when you are around.”

Granger smiled at her. “I think we have to work our way through this, together. I do not blame you for having an affair with him, even though I am a little perturbed by your choice.”

She could tell he was teasing her. “I sleep with a royal prince, and that is still not good enough for you?”

He laughed. “I always imagined that if you slept with a man, I would find him attractive as well.”

“After Francis, your standards are set too high.”

“So you thought he was attractive?” Granger was surprised at that.

“George, who wouldn’t find Francis Calvert attractive.”

“Maybe the next time he is in town, he can join both of us,” Granger offered with a raised eyebrow.

“That is scandalous!” she said, with outrage that wasn’t entirely faked.

“It would also be a lot of fun,” Granger said. She giggled and looked skyward, as if in disgust or frustration, while in fact he could tell that she found the idea at least partially appealing. They floated around, enjoying the warm water, until Granger got serious again. “Who knows you are pregnant?”

“Just William,” she told him. “I can trust no one with this.”

“The King must know, as must the Prince of Wales,” Granger said.

“We can’t tell them!” she said, almost screamed.

“We have to. It is for the child’s own good. We will raise this child as our own, and for my part, I pledge to love him or her as if it were my own son or daughter. But this child will have advantages, due to its royal blood, that we cannot deny it.”

“George, it is much too early to involve them. I have not even borne the baby yet. What if, God forbid, something happens?” That made him pause. “And who would tell the King, anyway? No one is that brave.”

“There is one person who is,” Granger told her.

“Your father?” she asked, following his line of thought.

“He wrote me a letter and pledged to devote himself to helping us out, to forwarding our interests. He promised to transfer additional holdings to me.”

“He has done that,” she said. “There are a number of papers I have for you, and among them are deeds of properties he has signed over to you. I was surprised that he parceled them off now, rather than making them a legacy.”

“He wants to show me that he’s serious about his claim to be sorry for selling me down the river, as it were,” Granger said, with a certain amount of gratitude and a certain amount of bitterness, strange emotions to collide in one thought.

“The two largest parcels are interesting. One is a large tract in Norwood, containing 300 acres. It contains a former abbey of sorts. It could very well be a barracks. The other is about 250 acres on the Isle of Wight. It actually has a title attached to it, the barony of Ryde.”

“So now I am a peer?” Granger joked. Owning land with a title did not mean that the title conveyed to the new owner. On the Continent, it could work that way, but not in England. A title was inherited, or granted, but it wasn’t bought.

“Not yet,” Caroline said. “So you think you can trust him, now that he has given you a series of deeds?”

“I think that is certainly a sign of good faith. I plan to attend the King’s audience tomorrow, and I will surely see him there.”

“I don’t know about this, George,” she said nervously. “You may trust him, but I am not sure that I do. What is more, his opinion of me will plummet. He will think I am no better than a common harlot. I will be doing the same thing he is fearful that Davina will do. I will bring a child not of his blood into the family.”

“This is much different,” Granger insisted. “First of all, I am not heir to the earldom, and that makes Davina’s fidelity that much more important. You have already given me three wonderful, healthy children. And the indiscretion you committed was with a member of the Royal family. He will appreciate your sensitivity to rank.”

“You want your father to tell the King,” she mused nervously. “I should consult with William.”

“William has no say in this at all,” Granger said much too aggressively. “He has the option to explain things to the King himself. If he does not, we will.”

“He is terrified of the King,” she said. Most people were. “He is the King’s favorite nephew. This may ruin that, may ruin him in the King’s eyes.”

“Caroline, I think that the King will be disappointed in him, but will certainly not disown him. He has not done that to his sons, and they have not exactly behaved with decorum.”

“I’m not sure about this, George.”

“I am not going to keep this from the King,” Granger stated decisively. “He and the Prince of Wales need to be aware of what has happened. If I hide this, I am complicit in the whole scheme.”

“It is a baby, not a scheme,” she snapped.

“It is a baby, conceived through an affair with a member of the King’s family. What if our son, what if William got a woman pregnant? Wouldn’t you want to know? Wouldn’t you feel betrayed if he didn’t tell you?”

“Not if she wasn’t a woman of honor,” she said. She meant that if he got a whore pregnant, it wasn’t something she’d need to be aware of.

“A child born of such a liaison would still bear our blood, and still deserve our support.” This was so central to Granger’s beliefs that he could find no room for compromise. Caroline finally got that.

“You are just returned from sea. Cannot you wait at least a week before you broach this subject with your father?”

“I will think about it,” he said. She didn’t like his answer, but it would have to suffice.

“How long will you be home?” She suddenly realized she hadn’t even asked him that yet.

“For a while. Belvidera was damaged, badly damaged. She is to be paid off, pending her submission to the dockyards.”

“Then you have no command right now?”

“No, I don’t,” he said sadly.

March 9, 1797

Granger posed in front of the mirror, admiring his own reflection, until he decided that he seemed awfully vain and averted his eyes. Still, they’d done wonders with his dress uniform coat. The bullion epaulette and trim had begun to look a bit bent and worn, but it had been restored to near perfect condition. He would need to see his tailor directly, but for now, he could appear in polite society without too much anguish over his appearance. He’d spent the first part of the morning with his children, thoroughly enjoying them, so much that he’d had to force himself to break from them and dress for Court.

He looked in on Caroline. “I will be at Court.”

She smiled a bit nervously. “We have a party planned for Friday night.” Granger wondered when she said ‘we’ if the party had originally been planned for her and Gloucester to host. He put those jealous thoughts aside.

“I will endeavor to be home by then,” he joked. Then he strode confidently down to the waiting carriage for the brief ride to St. James Palace.

Despite the many times he had visited The Palace and attended the King, Granger still felt a sense of nervousness. Perhaps it was just the King, who wasn’t the most congenial of fellows, that added to the tension but Granger knew that there were a lot of other reasons for him to have his guard up.

“Captain The Honorable Sir George Granger,” the chamberlain bellowed as he entered the room. Normally no one looked when names were announced, but Granger felt eyes on him. He knew that the main reason was that he wasn’t known to be back from the sea. He approached the throne as respectfully as ever, and made his bow to his sovereign, who looked more like an elderly grandfather than one of the most powerful men in the world.

“We are pleased to see you back, Sir George,” the King said in a markedly friendly way.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger replied.

“Perhaps you can come call on us at Windsor,” he said. Granger’s eyes bulged at that. The King loved Windsor, and was more relaxed when he was in residence there. Invitations to attend him there weren’t handed out to just anyone; getting one was quite a privilege. It got him some considering looks from the other courtiers.

“It would be an honor and a privilege, Your Majesty,” Granger said, bowing again as he moved off.

As soon as he was away from the throne, a familiar voice greeted him. “George! How wonderful that you are back!”

“It is good to see you, Father,” Granger said. The two men stared at each other; their blue eyes each trying to pierce into the other’s soul. “I received your letter courtesy of Sir Phillip Kerry. It was most reassuring.”

“I’m glad you did. A damnable affair that Freddie and his wife got themselves into,” he said. “We shall have to discuss it at length, but this is not the place.”

“I am at your disposal, since I am currently without a ship, and likely to be here for a while.”

“What happened to your ship?”

“She was damaged on the voyage home. She is to be paid off.” Granger could not keep the sadness from his voice, but then again, he was talking to his father. He would understand.

“That’s dashed bad luck,” the Earl said. “I’m sure Spencer will come up with something for you.”

“There is another matter I need to discuss with you,” Granger said. “A more sensitive issue.”

“Perhaps we can dine together this afternoon?”

“That would be splendid,” Granger told his father. They nodded to each other, and then moved off to mingle in the crowd. Granger looked toward the King and felt his blood beginning to boil. Standing near him, keeping him company, was Gloucester. Granger was hard-pressed to see what Caroline had found so attractive. The man was young and charming, and a member of the Royal family, but beyond that, there wasn’t much substance. He looked in Granger’s direction and gave him a smug look. Was he gloating? Granger seethed beneath his smooth veneer.

“Silly Billy is chatting up the King again,” someone whispered in his ear. Granger’s face broke into a huge grin as he turned to greet Cavendish.

“How fabulous to see you! I just got in last night, and was planning to call on you today!”

“And of course I know all of that,” Cavendish said, grinning just as broadly as Granger.

“Working at the Admiralty has its perks, I suspect,” Granger teased. “You get to know everything.”

“Yes. I get to know everything, and I get to do nothing,” Cavendish groused.

Granger had been separated from Cavendish for so long, he had forgotten how important his feelings for the young man were. Just standing there, chatting, brought back memories of the times they’d spent together. Granger had to force his mind to stay on more platonic memories lest he get an erection in the middle of the whole Court. He could read Cavendish’s expression, and could see that he was experiencing the same feelings. “When can we spend some time together?” Granger asked quietly.

“Are you going to Carlton House tonight?”

“I had planned to do that.”

“Perhaps I can stop in and visit before you go. Maybe indulge in a bath?”

“That would be spectacular,” Granger said. Now he definitely had something to look forward to.

“I trust Caroline won’t mind?”

“I trust she won’t,” Granger said. Caroline could give him a little room to enjoy his friends, Granger reasoned, especially after her latest revelation.

Granger saw Arthur Teasdale from across the room and smiled at him as well, but his smile wasn’t returned. He strode purposefully toward Granger and Cavendish. Granger felt Cavendish tensing up next to him with each step Arthur took. “I see you have returned,” he said to Granger coolly.

“I have,” Granger said. Arthur waited for Granger to say more, but Granger sensed that he was peeved about something, so no matter what Granger said, it would only create more problems.

“And you are here chatting?” Arthur asked Cavendish quietly, but in a very possessive way.

“I am just visiting with George, Arthur. Do not make a scene.”

“I have no intention of making a scene, but is there some reason I should? Have you been making plans to run off and spend time together?”

“We are at St. James Palace,” Cavendish said firmly. “If you embarrass me here, you will cease to be part of my life.”

“You treat me as if I were inconsequential,” Arthur hissed. “I do everything for you, give you everything. All you do is take.”

Granger watched them uncomfortably. “I will leave you gentlemen to enjoy the reception. It was good to see you, Freddy.” He moved away from them, hoping that no one else noticed their bickering. Granger felt completely adrift, as if he had returned to a strange land, where all the people had entirely different characters than before. He had expected to find his father waiting to repair their relationship, and had expected to find Freddie and Davina with knives drawn for blood. He hadn’t expected Caroline to be pregnant with another man’s child, and he certainly hadn’t expected Arthur and Cavendish to be a couple, and to be bickering in public, even sotto voce.

He scanned the room for people that he knew, that he could talk to and feel comfortable with. He noticed Sir Phillip Kerry over to the side with Somers, but felt no desire to chat with him. There really was no one that he was anxious to spend time with. He decided that he was a fish out of water, not a bad analogy, and made his way out of the palace.