Home Is the Sailor (6 page)

Taken by surprise, Will actually blushed. “Oh...either will do, my lady.”

“Call him Captain,” David advised. “There’s not a sailor afloat who doesn’t wish to be called Captain, no matter what he may tell you to the contrary.”

“Captain, then. Your room shares a dressing-room with my brother’s, so you will not feel cast adrift in this strange backwater.”

“Not strange, my lady,” Will said. “Only unfamiliar. But I thank you. And I wish that I were not imposing on you at such a difficult time.”

Amelia flicked a glance at her brother that spoke of approval as they took their leave of the other ladies and left the room. “Captain, I am sure that your presence, and my brother’s, will make us all more comfortable. Tobias should be here to show you—yes, here he is. Please let him know if there is anything you require.”

Tobias’ face was not one David remembered, but some of the servants had been getting on in years when he’d last lived at home, and the younger ones often went off to work in London, so change was to be expected. So many changes.... He hardly needed a guide; the courtesy was mostly for Will’s sake, so he followed the footman through the main hall and up the right-hand staircase, excusing himself at the door of his own room while Will was shown to the following one.

A fire had been lit, taking the chill off the air and inviting him to approach. A moment later, the connecting door to the dressing room swung open and Will poked his head through, tentatively. “That footman—Tobias, wasn’t it?—has gone to order a bathtub.”

“That should be pleasant. Not so fine as the one we shared on the way to London, though.”

“Much finer, I imagine,” Will said. He came the rest of the way into the room but stopped a foot or two away. “I don’t suppose we shall have the privacy to enjoy it, and even if we did…”

“We shan’t. I wish it were otherwise, but we dare not take the chance, here in my father’s house.” He studied Will’s solemn features. “Are you sorry you came?”

“Oh, not at all. I’ve often wondered about your home, and your sisters have been very kind. Is everything as you remember it?”

“Nearly so,” David said, moving about the room, exploring what had once been familiar. His books were still here, that was the main thing. He wasn’t surprised to find his sea-chest unpacked—obviously, Tobias had been busy while they were visiting the ladies—but his toiletries were now set out upon a mahogany shaving-stand that had not been in the room when he’d left. He ran a finger along the smooth, polished wood. “This is new, or perhaps it was moved in from another room. When I last slept in this room, I was not quite old enough to shave.”

Will was gazing around him, looking back at David from time to time. “Will, what is it?”

With a rueful smile, Will shook his head. “The middies’ mess and a hammock must have come as a terrible shock to you, Davy. This is so...so very grand. So far above anything I would have expected. Though I suppose your cousin’s estate in Jamaica should have given me a hint.”

David looked around him, trying to imagine how the place must seem to his lover’s eyes. The high, carved bed with its heavy curtains was certainly more elaborate than anything Will had likely ever slept in, but David rather wished they were still back at the coaching inn in Teignmouth.

And he suddenly realized why Will seemed so uncertain. “Yes, it is very nice,” he agreed. “But it’s not
mine,
Will, and I never expected it would be. This is all entailed...well, there’s some property that isn’t, and I know my mother would never let the Earl leave me out of the will completely—which he wouldn’t do in any event, because it would cause talk, and neither of them would stand for that. But in this family, I’m insignificant. If Virginia bears a son to Mark, as I hope she does, the place will go to that child. If not, it goes to Ronald. Which, I admit, I should hate to see, because I don’t think he will care for it as Mark would have.”

“You could live here, though.”

“Perhaps, if I had nowhere else to go. But really…oh, for heaven’s sake, Will, let us sit down.” He led his friend over to a set of chairs placed near the windows, and shifted one a little closer to the other. “You must stop worrying about where I shall live, and how. I’ve told you—I have the London house, or the rent from it, and that will be enough for us to keep a nice set of rooms. Sharing expenses on half-pay, we shall do very well. There’s no sense in borrowing trouble.” They’d have quite enough trouble as things stood, once Ronald showed up.

But for the moment, the only immediate question was where to put the bathtub, and Tobias answered that by having it brought into Will’s room, since it was less drafty. A parade of maidservants brought in sufficient heated water, and then they were left alone, after assuring the footman that they were quite accustomed to bathing unaided. Tobias bowed and departed, but not before appropriating the coats of their dress uniforms so that any little evidence of their journey might be cleaned and pressed away.

“I should have remembered that this room was always warmer,” David said, once their privacy was restored for at least a little while. Seeing Will hang back, he stripped off the rest of his clothes and stepped into the tub, a high-backed hip bath with room to sit comfortably. “This room was where my cousin Kit would sleep when his family came to visit. I think my mother put him here beside me so we would not disturb anyone else with our games.”

“What sort of games?” Will asked.

“Oh, the usual sort of things boys play at.” David soaped himself up quickly so Will would have at least some of the heat. “Adventures of one kind or another. Sometimes our toy soldiers were explorers, and one of the beds was Australia or India or the New World. Sometimes they were smugglers or pirates, and we’d pretend there were caves under the beds, and hide treasure there.”

Will’s dark eyes were on him. “I wish we could pretend we were at some little inn, Davy, where no one knew us and we could lock the door.”

Even though he knew they could do nothing, David smiled back. “And no chance of a servant coming in unexpectedly? So do I. But for now—would you pour some water so I may wash my hair?”

“Of course.” Will was a gentleman and did exactly as asked, and if his free hand happened to rest briefly on his shipmate’s shoulder, not even the most curious onlooker would have thought it was for any reason other than to steady his aim with the pitcher.

By the time Will had taken his own bath, the daylight had begun to fade outside the windows. When he had finished toweling himself dry, David handed him a dressing gown. He wrapped it around himself and frowned. “Davy, when will your footman bring our coats back?”

“Soon enough.” He didn’t want to patronize Will, who was wandering around the room with a puzzled look on his face. When they’d stayed at Kit’s estate in Kingston, the circumstances had been far less formal, and David did not want his friend embarrassed by ignorance of family customs—or by calling in a valet to see that he came up to the mark. “We shall need to dress for dinner, of course, everything fresh from the skin outward. It takes a bit of getting used to, after shipboard life. A laundress in residence, no need to wash our linen in salt water and wear everything for days on end...I’ve extra shirts and neckcloths here in case you need to borrow any, but I expect yours have been unpacked and put away.” He opened the armoire that Will seemed to be avoiding. “Ah, just as I thought—here they are.”

Will looked a little lost as he walked over and collected his clothing. “So much space, Davy! This room alone is bigger than the Captain’s cabin in the old
Calypso.
I almost feel I should sling a hammock here in this cupboard, instead of trying to sleep in that huge bed. And you could almost fit the house I grew up in inside the grand hall downstairs.”

David smiled. “It seems strange to me, too, now, and I grew up in this house. You start your dressing, Will, while I go fetch my things. We might as well keep one another company. If you like, we could have my brother’s valet assist us—”

“God, no!” Will blurted, and David laughed aloud.

“I feel the same,” he said. “Thank God for uniforms, and ranking low enough to be allowed to dress ourselves! But I would not dare wear my second-best coat to the dinner table, so you must suffer as well—particularly since, while you’re here as my friend, you are also my commanding officer.”

Even after they were dressed as far as they were able they had a while yet to wait, sitting near the fire, each lost in his own thoughts. David wondered whether it would be worthwhile asking after his father. The Earl had no doubt returned by now, and he would certainly have been informed of their arrival. That he had not sent for his youngest son was no real surprise.

Perhaps Will had been right, after all. Why had he insisted they come home? It was not really his home. Not any longer.

Chapter Four

“Lieutenant Archer, your mother has requested the pleasure of your company.”

Will started awake in the comfortable armchair, realizing belatedly that he had fallen into a doze. He allowed the servant who had brought their coats to help him into his—he attempted to demur, but the man seemed to think it necessary, giving far more attention to the precise position of the scraper on his left shoulder than Commander Marshall appreciated. Davy, on the other hand, had taken possession of his own coat and slipped it on without assistance.

“Did she mention Captain Marshall?” Davy asked.

“Yes, sir, she would like to welcome you both to Grenbrook.” Tobias stepped back, frowned at the imbalance between Marshall’s ornate epaulet and his unadorned right shoulder, but seemed to be aware that there was nothing to be done, since that second adornment could be worn only by a full Post Captain.

“Thank you, we will attend her immediately. Do you know whether my father has returned?”

“He has, sir. He is in his study, and said he will see you at dinner.”

Davy smiled wryly. “Very good. Thank you, Tobias, that will be all.” He waited long enough to be sure the man was out of earshot before saying, “Well, some things at least are as I expected. With luck, our presence here will go almost unnoticed. At worst, my father may find it necessary to explain my shortcomings to me, but he will probably refrain from doing so in your presence. And who knows, perhaps the prospect of having Ronald as his heir will make my inadequacy a little more bearable.”

Will tugged at the scraper, which did not seem to be seated properly. “What of your mother?”

“I’ll know better when I have seen her. Oh, for pity’s sake, Will, hold still.” He made some trifling adjustment and the epaulet settled into place. “I
think
Tobias was attempting to treat you with the respect due your position,” he said, suppressing a grin. “You will just have to endure the pampering as best you can.”

He glanced up. Will met his sparkling eyes, and wished again that they could be safely private. “If your mother is very unwell, I should hate to be a nuisance.”

“It would trouble her more to know she had not made you welcome, after telling me so many times to bring you here. She may wish to speak to me alone—you’ll know if that’s the case, I think. I do hope…” He broke off with a sigh. “Well, let us go see for ourselves how things stand.”

Will followed Davy along the open gallery that ran from one end of the open hall to the other, giving access to the floor below via a gracefully curving staircase on either side. They proceeded a short way down the opposite hall, where Davy tapped at the first door on their right; they were admitted to a sitting room by an angular, middle-aged maid who greeted “Master David” warmly. Lady Amelia stepped out of the door at the other end of the room, but before she could say a word a faint voice called “Come in, my dear,” from behind her, and the two men followed Amelia back into the bedroom.

Will had met Lady Grenbrook when Davy stood as godfather to Kit’s first child. They had only been able to stay for the christening ceremony and a bite to eat afterwards, so he had never exchanged more than a few words with Davy’s mother or his eldest sister, Mary, Lady Crandall, who had also been at the service. Lady Grenbrook had seemed in the best of health and spirits at the time, and though her hair was faded blonde-grey beneath her fashionable bonnet, her eyes had been as bright and blue as Davy’s own, her carriage strong and lively.

It was a much older woman who greeted them this time, aged in spirit if not in body. She lay as though thrown against a heap of pillows, and the only color in her face was in the purple shadows beneath her eyes. When Davy stepped forward to take her hand, she pulled him into an embrace as if she never meant to let him go. “Oh, my son,” she said at last, releasing him. “What a man you’ve become! I am so proud of you!”

Davy looked abashed, but Will was happy for him. “As are all of us who’ve served with him, my lady,” he said.

The weary eyes turned in his direction. “Captain Marshall,” she said, as though just noticing him. “I wish...that I were better able to greet you as you deserve.”

He bowed slightly and took the hand she extended, a brief touch of fingers rather than a handshake. “I wish that the circumstances were anything but what they are, my lady. May I express my deepest sympathy?”

“Thank you.” Her eyes rested again upon her son, with a look of weary joy. “So good to see you both,” she said with obvious effort. “We are...this has been…”

Will glanced at Davy, who nodded. “I shall let you and your son enjoy your reunion, my lady. Thank you again for the honor of your invitation to this lovely place.”