| Gregory had no desire to face any trouble. The war with Napoleon, and then the Colonies, had taken its toll. He was no longer the idealistic young officer who had sailed from this harbor. The things he had seen and experienced had left him disillusioned and feeling lost. Silently, he wished for the days when he first went to sea as a lieutenant. The adventures he had expected. Had yearned for. Going off to the glory of war. Gregory had found something entirely different and it reflected in his haunted, sea green eyes. War is dirty and bloody, relentless and unforgiving. Putting you at the mercy of your captors and sending you home a shell of what you had been. That was what he had told Captain Harris. The words had escaped his lips before Gregory realized it. Even now, he could not understand why he had spoken them. He remembered standing in the cabin of Captain Harris and staring at the portrait of the man's daughter. The child, Lady Monica smiling at him, her small face encouraging him to pour out the feelings in his heart. He had thought the two of them would likely be friends if they ever met and the words came tumbling from his mouth. The words revealed how Gregory felt about the Navy and ht war, this convinced Captain Harris to allow Gregory time ashore. Gregory quickened his pace, moving from the docks to the lit streets of the city. He grew tired of thinking of the past. He remembered the relief he had felt when he learned of their return to London after enduring the procedures in Portsmouth. He had only thought of one thing. Being able to see his family. He only wanted to return home once more. His mother would be sleeping at this late hour but perhaps Dunstan might be awake. How long had it been since he had seen his brother? Five years? It seemed like fifty. He smiled slightly, thinking of the two of them growing up together. They had shared a special closeness since birth. The two were as different as much as they were the same, and nothing could come between them ... Another sound caught Gregory's attention, causing every nerve to become alert. Someone was following him. Gregory's hand instantly rested on his pistol or perhaps his cutlass would be better. He was confident in his skill with either weapon. The young officer purposely slowed his pace. Waiting for another sound behind him. He did not have to wait long and with the sound, Gregory spun around, pistol already in hand and pointing in the direction of whoever stood behind him. Down the street, a young man dressed in a black cloak covering the clothes of a country gentleman, threw open the door of the local pub, exiting in raucous laughter. He closed it after the farewell to his friends for the night and he turned to climb into his buggy to begin the trip to his family's London home. The sight of Gregory spinning upon his attacker stopped the young man in his tracks. He stumbled forward as seeing Gregory forced the effect of the ale from his foggy mind. He smiled slowly at first and then grinned with joy as recognition set in. Knowing the attack would not last long, the young man pulled the hood of his black cloak up to hide his face and stood beside the buggu to wait his turn. He of all people knew the skill of this Navy lieutenant. |