Rose Cottage Jan 5, 1806     To Mr. Jonathan Riley, Greetings from the Captain and crew of H.M.S. Medusa about to set sail from Portsmouth at the end of the month for a voyage of exploration to New South Wales. It is hoped that you will accept appointment as third lieutenant. My friend and former shipmate Mr. Archibald Kennedy of Indefatigable has recommended you highly. I am pleased to have the honour of his company as first lieutenant. Bring with you any able seamen that you feel will handsomely fill our compliment. I will gladly take on young gentlemen of your acquaintance provided they are at least 14 years of age and of a studious nature. We will catalogue plants and animals on the South American Continent, the islands of the Pacific and return with our findings in roughly two years. I sincerely hope you will consider my offer. We are staying at the Lamb and invite you to Sunday supper at your earliest convenience. Captain Horatio Hornblower, His Majesty's Frigate, Medusa HiH   6th day of January, 1806 Captain Horatio Hornblower, H.M.S. Medusa, Portsmouth Harbour. Dear Sir, Greetings to you and your officers and crew. I am deeply honoured by you most kind invitation to join your cruise of discovery to the New World. It has been quite some years since I have had the pleasure of meeting with our esteemed friend Mr. Archibald Kennedy but I hold fond memories of our days sailing together aboard the Indefatigable. Although currently residing at my home in Havant, I am shortly due to sail aboard the HMS Wasp under Captain Peter Crittenden, another acquaintance from our days as midshipmen. I would however be interested to discuss your proposal further and look forward to our meeting Sunday. You Humble Servant, Lieutenant Jonathan Riley, Rose Cottage, Havant, Hampshire. JJ To Mr. Jonathan Riley Rose Cottage Jonathan! How I've missed you! Are you well? I hope so. Captain Hornblower, my dear Horatio, has told me that we will entertain you this Sunday after church. I can not keep from smiling. How fondly do I recall our times together. And I do hope we will sail together again. Affectionately, Archie Kennedy HiH   Lieutenant Archie Kennedy, H.M.S. Medusa, Portsmouth Harbour My Dearest Archie, It's been so long since I have heard from you! When I first received the kind letter from Captain Hornblower I was a little envious that he was the one currently sharing your company. I quickly marshalled my jealousy, if you will forgive me for using that term, and I remembered your words of advice from long ago. I know that Mr. Hornblower has long been the Captain of your Heart and I now rejoice in your good fortune at being by his side. My best wishes to both of you. I hope that both you and Captain Hornblower will permit me to bring company to our dinner at the Lamb. I have a friend, a midshipman staying with me. You may remember Mr. Grayson who was also aboard the Indy during your time. Mr. Grayson suffered greatly at the hands of the Mutineers and I have taken him under my wing. He is a good lad, if somewhat timorous owing to his experiences. I hope that given time he will overcome his fears and make a fine Officer in His Majesty's Navy. At present he has made friends with one of the local lads, a boy by the name of Tom Tyler, brother to my housekeeper, Jerusha. They spend many hours down at Langstone harbour sailing a small skiff, sometimes fishing if the weather is fine enough. Seeing their growing friendship has made me feel my own loneliness even more. I eagerly await our meeting, Your friend, Jonathan JJ   To Jonathan Riley Rose Cottage, Havant. My Dear Friend, Please do bring a guest or two. Our meal will be all the merrier. How kind of you to take the young man under your wing. We heard that the mutiny was a bad, sad affair. Was the young man injured? We pray that he suffered no lasting hurt. Captain Hornblower and I remember our days as prisoners of war. Being mishandled by an enemy is no easy thing to forget. Jonathan, I must be honest with you. When you spoke of seeing love growing between others, I felt a strong stirring in my heart. Captain Hornblower has long been my friend. Yet, we have been prevented from enjoying much of our time together. Duty and service, Jonathan, they part us all. Even so, I remember fondly a voyage with you when I was acting captain of a prize. We were so young, weren't we? Are you happy Jonathan? I sincerely hope that you are. It has taken me years to discover the things in life that really matter. God and Country and your mates. I'm so looking forward to seeing you. Sincerely, Archie HiH   My Dear Archie, Thank you for the kind invitation to bring a friend to our dinner at the Lamb. Mr. Grayson has declined, as I expected he would. His experience at the hands of the mutineers has left him with little confidence, a characteristic that is far from desirable in an Officer of the Kings Navy. I had hoped to persuade him to accompany me as I feel you may be able to understand his situation far better than I. He was subjected to an assault upon his person by several of the mutineers, the full details of which were never given during the trial. Myself and the Surgeons Mate Mr. Pike felt it best to spare young Ned any further humiliation thinking that having such a thing forever linked to his name would be doing the young man no favours. Now I wonder if perhaps it would have been far better to be more open about what happened to him, for I feel it has eaten away at him inside and he can not be rid of it. In truth I do not know what course to take with him. My one hope is he may confide in his new found friend Tom Tyler. Perhaps it you have time, you may be persuaded to spend a few days at Rose cottage with us? You might find a way to reach Ned where I have failed. I would be honoured to show you around Havant and Langstone Harbour and enjoy the pleasure of your company. Your Friend, Jonathan JJ To Jonathan Riley Rose Cottage, Havant. Dear Jonathan, I would be extremely happy to tour your home town and enjoy the peace of Rose Cottage. I found a strand of grey among my threads of gold. Tiny lines crinkle near the corners of my eyes. At our meeting, I will be amazed if you recognise your once handsome friend. I would be honoured to speak with your friend Edward. I know all too well the pain and humiliation of bondage to an enemy. The only way to heal is to excise the wound. At first the suffering seems more than a man can bear. Only after the ordeal of cleansing will your friend return to you happy and healthy. A true friend watches through a long illness. I think your friend will thank you afterward. I have things to do before we meet at the Lamb. Captain Hornblower has given me the task of buying provisions for the Medusa's voyage. I'd be pleased to learn that the merchants of your town are honest and willing to sell goods at a fair price. I might be induced to visit as early as the day after tomorrow, if you are free. Yours, Archie HiH Dear Archie, Silver threads? I do not believe it! Surely you are only just reaching thirty? Does age catch us so soon? Perhaps I am being naive, for I am yet to reach 21 and you have ever been so much wiser than me. By all means come to stay at my humble home although I fear you will find few places to purchase provisions. Havant DOES have several reputable breweries however so perhaps you will not leave empty handed. Most of the produce that is grown and milled here is shipped to Portsmouth for sale. You may be able to press upon the local millers to purchase their wares at whole sale prices but I fear they may not be keen to start such practices. If he is so inclined, you are most welcome to bring Captain Hornblower with you, although I fear the standard of my home may be far from what he has come to expect in lodgings. I have always been a little in awe of Captain Hornblower, more so now that he has obtained such rank. I hope he does not find me the young and foolish man I was when last we met. Awaiting your arrival with joy, Jonathan JJ A New Writer Enters the Scene...   Archie, I know it is several years since last we spoke and that our parting was on less than congenial grounds, but I hope you will forgive my presumptions and hear me out. I was most deeply concerned when I heard of your expected visit from Jonathan. You may not be aware, but our young friend has been of a most melancholy disposition for quite some time and I fear your visit my only exaggerate matters. The mutiny, coupled with the loss of his particular friend Mr. Kerrison left Jonathan in very low spirits. This was made worse by the death of his mother from a laudanum overdose whilst he was missing at sea. Despite passing for Lieutenant and serving with distinction, Jonathan has not managed to shake off his sense of blame for the deaths and has now taken yet another burden upon his shoulders. Mr. Ned Grayson is currently residing with Jonathan, a matter that does not sit well with me. Jonathan mistakenly feels a sense of responsibility for the assault upon Mr. Grayson during the mutiny, a fact played upon by the young man himself. It is pathetic to see the way Mr. Grayson has used Jonathan, who only has the boy's well being at heart. Poor Jonathan, he has put aside his own feelings for Grayson for fear of rejection, only to find that the young man has been running loose with one of the local fishermen's sons. Let me assure you at this point that my own feelings towards Jonathan are that of brotherly concern for we have served together for the last 4 years. Our friendship is purely platonic, a fact agreed upon by both of us in the earliest days of our voyages. My concerns now however are that YOUR appearance at Rose Cottage will only bring further heartache to Jonathan, particularly if you bring Captain Hornblower along. With this is mind I am having my things packed and will be travelling by the overnight post to Portsmouth where I, too, will make my way to Havant in the hope of preventing further misery. Captain Peter Crittenden, Rushtone House, London JJ   Captain Crittenden, Sir, My friendship with Jonathan Riley is an old one. If he is suffering any ill effects from his past, it is my duty as a friend to go to him and to hear him out in person. I am pleased you have made the same decision, that is, to present yourself at his side to offer your support. I do not know his young friend of which you speak. I am sure that with my own experiences as my guide, I will know with certainty if the young man is playing falsely with our mutual friend. I will certainly make my opinion known at that time. I think you may find me somewhat changed. I have set much of my past behind me. I look forward to the future with confidence. I have recently married and my child will be born while I am in New Holland. Presently, I look forward to seeing you at Rose Cottage. Congratulations on your ascension in rank. I myself am pleased to serve on the same deck as my old friend Captain Hornblower. I'm sorry to say, he will not be able to visit Havant with me. Duties in Portsmouth will have him very busy for the next three weeks. We sail at the end of the month. Ever your servant, Lieutenant Archie Kennedy, His Majesty's Frigate Medusa HiH   To Jonathan Riley Rose Cottage, Havant. Dear Jonathan, I have spoken with Captain Hornblower. He sends his regrets. We must make do without him at whist. He wins nearly every hand here. A game without him might offer the rest of us an even chance. Even so, I look forward to a merry time and days filled with pleasant memories of our times together. If you would be so kind, please set up a meeting with two or three of your local brewers. We will need a great deal of fresh beer. It keeps better than water and it is far more nutritious than grog. Captain Hornblower has become quite concerned with the health of the crew on so long a voyage. He is especially worried because we are improving the education of the second son of the Fifth Earl of Edrington. Mr. Clive Hayworth is a noted natural philosopher despite his age. His father has asked the Captain to keep on eye on his offspring. And you must recall how we all loved Edrington. And speaking of age. You guessed mine correctly. Yet, I feel as old as Moses seeing all of you young Mids so in your prime now. I heard that Peter Crittenden has made captain. Let us toast him when we meet. You do remember I was fond of him. So looking forward to seeing you, Archie HiH Dear Archie, The meetings with the local brewers have been arranged and they have assured me that you will receive the best they can supply. Young Mr. Hayworth is indeed fortunate to have yourself and Capt. Hornblower as his mentors. I am sure he will learn much during the voyage. How old would the young gentleman be? If he is of a like age to Mr. Grayson, 18, then perhaps he would care to share my humble hospitality also? Neddy could certainly do with some cultured companions. I fear master Tom is a little uncouth in his ways! It is strange that you should mention Peter Crittenden for I have been in correspondence with him recently. In fact when I mentioned your proposed visit, he declared he would also come to Havant. I was a little startled by his sudden decision, particularly given the fact he and I once came to blows over you so long ago. Ah, such youthful folly, but I know that it broke Peter's heart to lose you in such a way. I trust however that all is behind us and we may now get along as fellow Officers, and indeed, close friends. I await your arrival in the morning, Jonathan. JJ The Arrival "Hello Jonathan! What a fine home you have. I can smell the roses. Your mother liked roses, I would guess. Mine does. Oh, let me introduce Mr. Clive Hayworth. He has volunteered to be my clerk. His hand is good. A fine bold hand. And his mind is quick with figures. Ask him sums or division. He is a marvel." "You are too kind, sir." The slim blonde youth wore spectacles and carried a parcel of ledger books. He was handsome in a delicate, fragile way. He blushed easily under Archie's praise. "Oh come now, lad. Don't be so modest! Really, Jonathan, he is much in love with our Captain Hornblower. I see the same calf-eyed statement on his fair face that I remember Horatio wearing when he gazed upon the figure of our former captain pacing the quarterdeck of Indefatigable. And who is this young man standing so tall and straight behind you?" HiH   "Archie, It has been so long. Come let me embrace you. Why you look scarcely older than you did when last we met. The years have been kind to you. And welcome Mr. Hayworth, I hope you find my humble home not too Spartan. It is a far cry from the comfortable home it was when my mother was alive. The roses I am afraid have been left to run wild. Yet still they prosper, remarkable would you not say?" Jonathan studied the youth at Archie's elbow. "You are indeed lucky to be sailing in such august company Mr. Hayworth." Jonathan's eyes flicked back to Archie's, something almost wistful showing. "Another one fallen under the spell of our famous Captain Hornblower, eh Archie?" There was s soft cough at Jonathan's shoulder and he turned to beam a smile at the tall fair haired youth on the verge of manhood who stood silently like a young sapling waiting for the sun. "Forgive my manners, let me introduce Mr. Ned Grayson, but surely you remember him, Archie? He has grown somewhat since you last saw him...he was barely 13 as I recall." The young man stepped forward, a shy smile upon his lips. "It is understandable that Mr. Kennedy does not remember me, for I was but little more than a child." The blue eyes flicked up and down quickly, looking at Archie from head to toe. "BUT I remember YOU Sir," he added with a directness that dispelled all images of innocence. He glanced momentarily at Clive Hayworth, "Hello," was his only comment before looking back to Archie. a voice sounded from the road way and a small finely built young man in the Officer of a Naval Captain came bursting through the gate and up the path. "Well it seems I am the last to arrive! Greetings Jonathan, it's good to see you." The vivid green eyes looked at Archie almost in challenge, "And you Mr. Kennedy, it's certainly been a while!" "Oh Peter, so formal!" Jonathan clasped his hand and shook it heartily before slipping his arm around Crittenden's slim shoulders in a gesture that spoke of a long friendship. Jonathan stood a good head taller, for Peter was little more than five foot five. "Come, let us forget the past. We are all friends and there is so much to catch up on." "Yes, you are right Jonathan. I for one am dying to hear about Archie's marriage and his forthcoming child!" "What?" Jonathan could not hide the look of shock that covered his face. "You are married Archie? I did not realise." The blue eyes took on a look of deep hurt. "Why did you not tell me?" JJ   Archie blushed. He looked at Jonathan and slowly shook his head. "I never meant to deceive anyone. I fell heir to my mother's lands and it is my duty to produce an heir of my own. The wishes of the Clans come before our private wishes. Not that I don't love my Kate. She's a fine lass. And she has the most understanding nature. So like Lady Edrington, young Hayworth's mother. Women married to those in the Service must be understanding of our call to Duty. Don't you agree? Clive cleared his throat. "My mother is extremely generous toward her country. She has sent Father to the serve in the army time and again. She has most recently observed my brother Ross obtain his captaincy in Father's regiment. The Light Company, no less. And now, she allows me to set out upon a voyage of discovery. And I think my young sisters are both being admired by men in uniform." "Besides," Archie added. "Women will never come between a man and his comrades in arms. Jonathan? May I greet you in a manner befitting our long friendship? He held open his arms, waiting. HiH   "Perhaps you are right, Archie," Jonathan replied, returning the embrace although his eyes held a shadow of sadness. "Come inside to the parlour and I will get us all some tea. Neddy, perhaps you could show our guests the way please?" "Why certainly," Ned Grayson replied, "This way Mr. Kennedy. Jonathan, I mean Mr. Riley, has been telling me about your forthcoming voyage to the Great South Lands. I would so love to travel there. And to think Captain Hornblower will be leading the expedition, oh what an exciting time you will all have." Peter Crittenden watched Grayson and Kennedy walk ahead and frowned slightly. He suddenly became aware of the young Hayworth still waiting on the step. "Well come along, Mr...er...Hayworth? You're a Middy I suppose? Been at sea long?" He glanced at the young man again and paused in mid stride. "You look like someone...who did you say your father was?" JJ   "My father is Lord Edrington, the Colonel of the 95th Foot recently at Vitoria. We sailed to Spain on Father's yacht. I've made a few other sea voyages but as a passenger, not a member of the crew. I'm more of a natural philosopher than a sailor. I've spent three years at Cambridge. My older brother Ross is far ahead of me. He's already a captain." "Of which ship?" "I beg your pardon. He's captain of the Light Company in Father's regiment. One of the lieutenants is the man who used to watch us when we were children. In all our lives, Mellors never allowed Rossy to come to any harm." "And who watches over you, dear boy?" "Mr. Kennedy, sir. And Captain Horatio. I was only five years old when I met them. The Captain's father cured my father's blindness. A musket blew up and powder burnt his eyes. I shall forever be in their debt." "Take my arm, lad. They are waiting for us." "It would be my extreme pleasure to accompany you, sir!" Captain Crittenden smiled into a face so innocent that he felt a strange stirring in his breast. The lad had large sea-coloured eyes and honey hair. His skin was smooth. His posture was straight. A truly amazing young man! HiH In the Parlour Ned Grayson led the way to the parlour stealing surreptitious glances at his companion from beneath his long fair lashes. So this was the famous Archie Kennedy! The stealer of hearts. It was easy to see why Jonathan had been so enamoured with Kennedy, who even at thirty had retained his youthful good looks. But how strange that Kennedy should have married; a fact that had taken Jonathan by surprise. Perhaps he still held affection feelings for Kennedy, his first lover, within his heart and had hoped to renew their relationship? Ned Grayson smiled slyly. Perhaps he should make an effort to get to know Lieutenant Kennedy far better. "Please have a seat here sir and permit me the small indulgence of sitting by your side. I an eager to hear of your forthcoming voyage in great detail." Ned Grayson sat beside Archie on the small settee, his knee resting comfortably against Archie's. "When do you plan to sail and do you have a complete crew as yet?" JJ   Archie sat back and crossed his legs, moving a scant inch away from his neighbour. He did it with such grace and nonchalance that Ned was not sure if he'd been slighted in some small way. Certainly Mr. Kennedy was a wary trout, not at all hungry for the bait. Even so, there was something devastatingly alluring in those blue eyes, those apple cheeks and especially in that pouting lower lip that begged to be sucked and bitten. Damn the loose trousers... "A month," Archie was saying. Ned had missed all but the last word of the answer in his examination of his neighbour's features. He cleared his throat. "Excuse me, please, for my lack of attention, sir," Ned whispered softly, his eyes as clear as a summer sky. "What was that you said just now?" "We leave in a month. I'm here looking for men willing to join our crew," Archie stated with a hopeful raising of his brows. He continued, "I can't very well steal Jonathan off the Wasp's quarterdeck but I'll take any other man who wishes to join us! What say you, Jonathan?" Archie called to his host who was arranging tea cups on a tray. "Young Ned here wants to sail to New Holland." A cup fell and crashed on the wooden floor. HiH   "That's exactly the sort of thing that would benefit Mr Grayson! I've been telling Jonathan for some time now." Peter Crittenden exclaimed loudly as he hurried into the parlour, almost dragging young Hayworth behind him in his haste. "Isn't that so, Jonathan?" Peter called out. There was no reply. He turned to Archie and smiled. "Ned here needs a challenge now. Jonathan has taught him all he can on the Wasp. It would do him well to have a change, a challenge. Some place new where he'll have to stand on his own two feet for once." Peter smiled coldly at Grayson who looked back with much the same expression. "Mr Riley has been very kind to me. He and I shared an ordeal together and it is hard for others to understand what it was like. To see friends die, to be held captive at the mercy of mutineers. Neither of us came through it unscathed." Grayson's voice was quiet, his eyes hidden by his fair lashes as he fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket. He looked up suddenly. "But you are right Captain Crittenden, there is nothing for Jonathan to teach me now. I must find my own way. A change of ship would be a fine thing and I can think of no better Officers to sail with than Captain Hornblower and Lieutenant Kennedy." Ned turned and touched Archie's sleeves softly, looking up with his cornflower blue eyes. "Oh please say you will take me Sir? I would be ever so grateful?" JJ   Archie raised his brow and said, "The final say must come from Captain Hornblower, of course and I will be speaking with my old friend Mr. Riley about you, lad. Make no mistake about that. A good word from him will mean a lot. I must know your strengths and your weaknesses. Every man has a few." Archie turned to look up at Jonathan who was handing him a cup of tea. A deep searing blade pierced his heart when he saw the look of desperation in his friend's eyes. The tea cup shook slightly on the saucer. Archie brushed his friend's fingers as he took the fine china. He smiled and hoped Jonathan read the message he was trying to send. Young Mr. Hayworth, sitting on Archie's left tapped his arm and offered him a little pitcher of milk which he took gratefully with a nod passing it on to Mr Grayson. About the time the milk mingled with the tea, Archie caught the glare of lightning passing between the two young men at his elbows. "After tea, I think we should walk down to the harbour. Do you fancy stretching those long legs of yours, Mr. Hayworth?" Ned asked. "I wouldn't mind a walk if Mr. Kennedy has no other orders for me." Archie sipped his tea, suddenly feeling a little like Captain Pellew. HiH   "Ned, you might like to stop by the Tyler's cottage. Tom was at the kitchen door just now looking for you." Jonathan raised one eyebrow. "You had evidently neglected to inform him we had visitors coming. I told him to run along home and that I would pass on his message to you." Jonathan turned to Archie. "His sister Jerusha used to do a little work for my mother and now she keeps house for me when I require it. She'll be along to see to our supper later." When the two young men had left, Jonathan leaned forward, hands clasped nervously on his knees. "I have to agree with Peter, Archie. It would do Neddy the world of good to have a change. I fear things have not been well between us while he has been here." He looked across at Peter Crittenden and smiled briefly. "You were right as always Peter. It was doomed to fail from the start." Jonathan turned his tortured gaze back to Archie. "Forgive me for being so cryptic Archie, but you will be pleased to know I have finally learned a little discretion when it comes to my private affairs. Still, there are things you should know about Ned Grayson if he is to be sailing with you and I should be the one to tell you." Jonathan sat back and bit his lip. "But first it might be easier if you told me what you know about the mutiny and what have you heard of Ned Grayson." JJ   "I was told that both of you were in mortal danger," Archie said. "Mmmm..." Archie took a deep breath. He moved about in his seat as if the cushion had suddenly become too warm. He looked up at his friends with a vaguely haunted statement, a little knot of lines marring his brow. His eyes narrowed. His mouth changed too. The soft delectable lips drew into a narrow line. His jaw hardened as he clenched his teeth. He looked down and could not seem to stop kneading the flesh of his upper thighs. His hands and face were as white as the linen cloth on the table. "Archie," Jonathan whispered. "I know you suffered too at the hands of a shipmate. Don't call him up in your mind's eye. There is no need. He's dead and so are the men who hurt Neddy. As much as I've tried, I can't reach into the depth of his wound. I think you can." Peter put his hand on Jonathan's shoulder. He said, "You did your best. You kept him alive." "If only I'd been stronger..." "It happened. It need not happen again," Archie said. "It need not happen again," he repeated looking at his friends with a sadder but more relaxed statement. "It will not happen on Medusa while Captain Hornblower is in charge." HiH A stroll to the Grove Clive walked briskly down the street on the left of Edward Grayson who waved at many of the local townspeople. They greeted shopkeepers and professional men. Yet, not once did Ned introduce his new friend. They merely walked until they entered a grove of stately walnut trees. In the deep shadows, Ned asked, "What's your pleasure in sleeping arrangements tonight?" "What?" Clive asked turning suddenly and frowning, his statement rather owlish in the dim light. "Will you be spending the night with Mr. Kennedy?" "I don't really know. It depend upon the wishes of Mr. Riley." "Oh, do you think so?" "He is our host, is he not, sir?" "Well then, Mr. Hayworth," Grayson said slowly. "Are you saying you would not mind someone other than yourself sharing Mr. Kennedy's bed?" "I require you to speak more plainly, sir," Clive said, keeping his patience. "I am quite lost concerning the point you are trying to make." HiH   "More plainly?" Ned scoffed, "Dear God, don't tell me you are such an innocent." He looked Clive up and down analytically. "Perhaps you are, after all this is your first time at sea. Perhaps you don't know what goes on below decks." Ned looked away, his face suddenly bitter. "Never mind, someone will no doubt show you eventually." He leaned up against a tree, and stretched. "The point I am trying to make, dear Clive, is that there are but three rooms at Rose Cottage. The main bedroom on the first floor where Jonathan now sleeps, a frightful room that belonged to his mother. There is the second bedroom, across the hall from Jonathan's own, which is where I have been sleeping. There is also the attic, which has a rather old bed and a hammock as well, although Jonathan does not know I have been up there. He does not seem fond of the place. "Now since there are five of us, for I presume Captain 'Crumpet' Crittenden will be staying, I put it to you that some of us will be forced to double up." Ned smiled slyly like a cat. "No doubt Jonathan has some ideas!" JJ Back At Rose Cottage: Jonathan crossed the floor and seated himself beside Archie. "Yes I did what I could, but there is one other thing that you must know, Archie. Do you remember Kerrison? Jack Kerrison? You have heard that he was hung for his part in the mutiny, a false conviction because he only joined the mutineers in an attempt to free us. I spoke on his behalf at the court martial, for he was acting under my orders. But there is one crime of which he was truly guilty ...a thing he did so as not to give himself away. He was one of the men who...one of the," Jonathan swallowed, unable to speak the words. "He was one of the men who raped Ned Grayson." Peter Crittenden said softly, taking no delight in the admission. Archie looked shocked, his face pale, his palms suddenly sweating. "How could he DO such a thing?" "He did it for me Archie, that's what he told me. He said that he was afraid they would bring me out if he refused Ned and he said he would do anything rather than see me hurt." Jonathan's eyes shone with unshed tears. "So you see the guilt is mine." "Nonsense," Peter interrupted. "You have nothing to answer for. Does he Archie?" Peter stood up and placed a gentle hand on Jonathan's shoulder. "And don't let Ned Grayson fool you, Archie. He wears his suffering like a medal, hoping to make those around him feel sorry. Whatever the effects of his ordeal have been, the worst one is that he has become a self-centred, callow youth, who seeks his own satisfaction in all things. He's scheming and he's headstrong and he uses Jonathan's kindness to make up for his own short comings." JJ Back with Ned and Clive: "I don't mind doubling up. I've shared a bed with my brother, with other boys at school. I may be the son of an earl but I'm not above anyone at Rose Cottage. And really when you think about it, we are the middies and we should be assigned the middies berth which, I suppose, means the attic. It would be frightful to send a captain to sleep in the loft." "So you've shared your bed with a school chum? Upper or lower classman?" Clive frowned and looked up at the clear sky. "There were quite a few. I didn't really keep accurate records." "Well, maybe I was wrong about your innocence." Clive faced his companion and said, "If you mean self-pleasuring, then let me assure you that I am not a child. As for anything else, I have not yet accomplished my heart's desire." Clive's face suddenly grew warmer and his frame seemed to get tense. A moment later, he glared at Ned and whispered, "Be forewarned. If word of this conversation travels from your mouth to any ears but our own, I will challenge you." "By God, I think you would," Ned said laughing. "Let's get back and see what the others have said about me." Clive nodded and followed his companion back to the cottage. HiH   Ned glanced sideways at Clive as they retraced their steps to the house, a newly found respect for the young man showing in his eyes. "So do you have someone particular in mind? For your hearts desire, I mean. Is it a 'someone' or a 'something' that you desire so much?" Clive remained silent as if considering how much he should say to his rather outspoken companion. Clive was cautious by nature, but since leaving his brother and school friends he had keenly missed having someone to confide in. Although he idolised both Captain Hornblower and Lieutenant Kennedy, they could hardly be his confidants. Ned Grayson however might soon be his fellow midshipman, a companion on the voyage of discovery that he had longed dreamed about. Clive wrapped his arms about him and shivered slightly. The chill evening air made him wish he had worn his coat. Ned Grayson, impulsive as ever, grew tired of waiting for a reply. It was obvious that Clive was a thinker, a deeply introspective young man who would not speak out of turn. Ned sighed in frustration. "Well tell me then what you make of Lieutenant Riley? I have known him for many years. We were midshipmen together. Do you not consider him good looking? I KNOW that he would like you! You are just his type." Clive tried to hide his surprise at Ned Grayson's statement, but he found himself feeling uncharacteristically flustered by the discovery. He hoped he wasn't blushing. JJ   "Mr. Grayson," Clive said in a stiffly formal way, "I have exercised great care never to become intimate with my elders. My dear brother Ross made a grave mistake some years ago with a man we loved second only to our own father. The necessary rebuff hurt Ross deeply. The older man's sorrow brought both of us serious regret. Therefore, I would never offer myself to someone who was above my rank or my station in life." Ned turned to face Clive and he was suspicious of the solemn statement he saw. Ned stated, "On the Portsmouth Road, you must have shared a room with Lieutenant Kennedy." "We even shared a bed," Clive answered proudly. "Even so, I was as safe as if I slept beside my father. Mr. Kennedy treats me as a sacred trust. My father expects it so. And for the world, I would not stain Mr. Kennedy's honour." "Oh! So you do know what to offer the right companion." "I believe I do understand that to which you allude. For the present though, I will refrain from a full confession." "I did not think you ever kicked your heels up over the traces!" A great laugh escaped Clive. He said, "At school, I was known to play a prank or two. Nothing that would cause harm." Ned stood very close and placing his arm against a tree, he cut off any escape his companion might have tried. Ned asked, "What sort of things did you do?" Rolling his eyes, Clive began, "Well, once my floors inhabitants dressed the master's horse in a night-gown and I led the poor creature into his bedroom. It was very funny. The horse trusted me and the creature would follow me anywhere." Ned's bright blue eyes widened with surprise! "You, a stable boy?" Clive smiled and shook his halo of golden curls, "Not exactly. I've had a pony since the age of five. I first rode to the hounds when I was seven and last year I competed in the equestrian trials at school. My brother could always beat me. Not many others could though." "Where is this famous brother?" Ned asked, his mouth moving closer and closer to Clive's ear. "With my father's regiment awaiting orders. Ross is already captain of the light company," Clive answered coyly moving away. Ned took hold of his companion's arm. He asked in disbelief, "You joined the navy when your father has a regiment?" "I love the sea and mathematics," Clive explained. "I've met the famous Dr. Maturin and listened to his lectures about the albatross. I so want to see the great bird for myself." "And you've fallen under the spell of a certain Captain Hornblower and his fair lieutenant." "You have hit upon the truth. I confess it." "Would you spend the night with me, Clive?" Ned asked suddenly. There was a long pause. Ned added, "We could talk, maybe play chess. Nothing you don't want to do." "As long as Mr. Kennedy approves, I see no impediment. In fact, I'm enjoying our conversation." "I'm glad, Clive. It's been a long time since I spoke to someone my age." "What about your friend? The one you waved to." Ned was speechless for a moment. Clive was a wide-eyed fellow, but his eyes were sharp, even if he did wear those ridiculous wire-rimmed spectacles. HiH   "That was Tom Tyler," Ned confessed shyly. "Son of one of the local fishermen men. His sister does for Jonathan, er, Mr Riley when he is at home. That's how we met, he came up to the house with her to lend a hand when we first arrived three weeks ago." Ned looked away, his manner suddenly changing. Gone was the superior attitude, the sly manner. In its place was revealed a hesitant uncertainty. "You mustn't misunderstand me Clive. Mr Riley has been very good to me, but there is something...It is hard for me to speak of it." He composed himself with some difficulty and tried to smile. "Mr Riley offered me many things, he was very generous with me, but I was unable to...reciprocate. It's not because I share your hesitancy in offering myself to my superiors, as I intend to demonstrate later with Lieutenant Kennedy. Rather it was because there is a thing between us, a thing that makes any thought of further intimacy impossible." Ned blushed slightly and wondered what Clive would make of all this. The boy SEEMED worldly at times and yet also an innocent. Did he understand what Ned was implying? "With Tom Tyler it was different, you see. He was as much a novice as I and so there was no pressure, no history behind us. We got on well together, he took me out in his skiff some days and we fished. One thing led to another and we.... He's been spending most evenings at the cottage with us, even staying some nights with me in my room. It's been a time of exploration for both of us, and very enjoyable. But for all that, he is not...educated. He can neither read nor write. He is far below me in most things and other than our physical attraction and love of the sea we have little in common." Ned looked truly contrite, "I hope I haven't led him to think that our friendship is more than a fleeting shore leave affair." He grinned at Clive when he noticed a soft blush colouring the fair cheeks. At last the boy understood what Ned was trying to tell him, the sexual nature of his relationship with Tom Tyler. The flippant grin returned. "Surely I haven't shocked you Clive? Or does the thought simply make you long for something like that yourself?" The grin grew even wider. "I know, what say we play a little game, you and I, a little contest. Let's see who can be the first to bed the man of our choice. I'll try for Mr Kennedy and you can try for Jonathan...er Mr Riley. Lord knows he must be getting desperate by now!" JJ Back at Rose Cottage: "Well enough of this, I should clear away the tea things and show you to your lodging gentlemen. I am sure you will want to rest a little before supper." Jonathan made a show of clattering the cups and saucers, his hands clearly shaking a little as he carried them away. When he returned he looked from Archie to Peter and shrugged. "I suppose since Peter out ranks us Archie, HE should be the one to get the most comfortable bed. That would be the master bedroom. I will give you my old room Archie, the bed is small but very cosy. Ned and Clive can take the attic," He paused and looked at Archie speculatively, "That is, I assume it was not your intention to...er...'sleep' with the lad was it Archie?" Archie shook his head vigorously. "No Jonathan, Clive is like a son to me." "But what about you Jonathan? Peter asked. "Where will you be sleeping?" Jonathan put on a brave face. "I'll sleep here in the parlour on the settee. It's a place where I have often fallen asleep in the past. It will be no inconvenience I assure you both." Despite his words there was a wistful look in Jonathan's eyes. JJ   "Now, listen here, Ned," Clive said, anger forcing the words out quickly. "So much as a wanton glance in the direction of Mr. Kennedy, and I'll thrash you. Have you no sense? In a few weeks you'll be sailing on his ship!" "Have I hit a nerve?" Ned asked with a sly smile. Ned observed his companion's colour deepening considerably. Breaths came in short snorts and the young man's posture had become threatening. Clive beat his right fist into the palm of his left hand. The image, of course, was ridiculous. A tall slim lad wearing owlish glasses threatening someone more than his weight and age. Ned leaned back against a tree and looked up at the sky, completely at ease in the presence of so weak a threat. "I will seduce him, Clive," Ned said in a whisper. "And I doubt you can stop me." The crack of the fist against his jaw sent Ned reeling back. His skull thumped the hard trunk of the tree and he saw stars. He was falling through the night sky. Surprise, a flare of pain and then nothing. Ned woke in Clive's arms. The lad was running his fingers over his jaw and cradling his head gently. Were there tears of remorse in his fine blue eyes? "I'm sorry, Ned, but you mustn't speak so in regard to Lieutenant Kennedy. I will accept no insult to any member of my family and I consider him my guardian in the place of my own dear father. Do you understand?" HiH   Back at Rose Cottage Archie gave Captain Crittenden a glance. The man was gazing with deep longing toward his host. Archie recognised the look. He'd seen it often enough when Horatio gazed at Captain Pellew. Archie had glanced at his own longing every time he'd peered into the looking glass shaving each morning next to a nearly nude Horatio. The statement was unmistakable. It moved his heart. "Jonathan," Archie began. "We are all old shipmates, used to crowded quarters. There is no reason we can't share a bed. Let's cut cards for the master bedroom. We'll give the boys the middies berth in the attic. No objections there, eh? Here, I'll shuffle the deck. Low card gets the little bed. Agreed?" The others nodded. Then, with practised skill, Archie palmed a deuce. The other two men cut the deck. Jonathan's card was an eight and Peter's was a knave. Archie laid out his low card. "Seems you've won the Captain's quarters, Jonathan," Archie exclaimed, smiling happily at the pair. HiH   "They hung the last men who assaulted me Mr Hayworth!" Ned whispered, his voice suddenly low and dangerous. "Hung them by the neck until they were dead. I watched it and I enjoyed it." Clive's mouth dropped open slightly, fear flashing into his sky blue eyes at the implied threat. His small tongue peeked out to lick his lip nervously. Ned raised a finger and ran it across Clive's lips following the path still wet from his tongue. "But I would not want you to get into trouble for what you just did, dear Clive. We ARE friends after all, aren't we?" "Well, I suppose we are but I can't allow you to speak so.." "Shhh Clive," Ned silenced him with his finger, pressing gently on his lips. "No harm done. Nothing a little kiss won't fix. Do you know the old saying 'Kiss it and make it better'?" Ned smiled his anger gone at the thought of a new game. He leaned up and quickly kissed the slightly parted lips. The kiss was not returned, but nor did Clive pull away so perhaps he had not been adverse to it, merely shy and inexperienced. Ned looked up into the astonished blue eyes. "I still feel a little pain, dear Clive. What do you say to another?" JJ Back at Rose Cottage: Peter stood and walked to the parlour window, gazing out at the lengthening shadows. "What say you Jonathan?" Peter began, with feigned disinterest. "I don't take up much room?" Damn Archie for being so astute! Peter forgot at times that Archie was older than he, despite their prospective ranks. He was probably far more worldly than he once had been too. An old pang of regret stabbed at Peter's heart. He wondered if he would have a new regret to face in the morning. He knew he would be powerless to refuse Jonathan should he want more that night; a comforting pair of arms to help Jonathan forget how Ned Grayson had bruised his heart. Heavens, they were BOTH milk sops when it came to love. But perhaps it was time to try again. Peter turned back abruptly. "It's getting dark out there and those two lads have not returned. Should someone go looking for them?" "Perhaps you could go Archie? I will light the fire. It's gets very cold here at night." Jonathan suggested. JJ   "I'd say that I don't relish being hanged, sir," Clive said, looking quite serious as he gazed into the eyes of the man whose head rested in his lap. After a pause, Clive whispered, "Allow me to help you to your feet, and then, let's retire to a more secluded place." Ned let out a gasp of astonishment as the tall youth unfolded his coltish legs and pulled him up. Clive slipped an arm around his companion's narrow waist and helped him take a few steps. Ned stumbled and fell against his companion. Clive caught him. Ned leaned heavily and flung his arm around Clive's neck while his free hand slipped down to clutch at Clive's buttocks. "Not here," Clive whispered. "I wouldn't want to be forced to hit you again." "I'm fond of you when you are angry," Ned purred as he stood on his own two feet, relinquishing his hold. "See? We were nearly caught!" Clive said pointing down the path. "Someone's coming." "Halloo, gentlemen," Archie called. "Twisted ankle? Not used to walking anywhere but the deck of a ship, I see." "I turned my ankle, fell and bumped my chin, Mr. Kennedy," Ned explained as Archie drew nearer. When Archie reached them, he examined the young man who held out his small, neat foot. Archie removed the shoe and moved the joint to the accompaniment of murmurs of pain. At that, Clive's eyebrow raised in exactly the same disdainful way his father's raised when he was annoyed. Archie knew he'd not fathomed the depths of what had occurred between the two lads. Clive's knuckles were skinned and he was too quiet. "Mr. Hayworth, do you have anything to report?" "Nothing of importance, sir. Something of a misunderstanding, is all." "Mr. Grayson had a disagreement with the path resulting in a fall? Come, Clive, tell me everything," Archie coaxed. "It was my fault. I saw insult where there was none. I've made my reparations." "Mr. Grayson? Did you fall?" "Yes, sir," Ned said quietly, his eyes downcast, the very image of a lowly midshipman. Clive exclaimed, "He fell after I hit him, sir. It was all my fault." Archie looked at both of the young men. They exhibited no anger. Ned seemed to be making light of the incident. Kennedy asked, "Have you sorted out the trouble and come to an accord?" They both answered at the same time. "Yes, sir." "Good," Archie stated drawing in a great breath and sighing. "It's nearly time for supper. Let's not keep our host waiting, eh?" HiH   Jonathan and Peter were kneeling side by side at the grate, deep in conversation when Archie returned with the wayward midshipmen. The fire had been forgotten. Peter looked up, a blush staining his olive cheeks as the others made a noisy entrance. "Not interrupting anything are we?" Archie asked politely, unable to resist the good natured jibe. "Neddy-Love, whatever has happened to you?" Jonathan flew to Ned's side as Peter rolled his eyes in disgust. "I'm all right," Ned replied twisting away. "I fell, that's all." "Supper's ready if you please sir," announced a young woman from the doorway, ending the chance for any further discussion. Over supper, Ned Grayson gazed across the table at Clive Hayworth. What a fascinating young man he was! So honourable, so self righteous, but with such a temper! Behind those bookish looks and owlish glasses lurked unexpected embers that needed little to fan them into a smouldering fire. Ned hid his smile behind his soup spoon as he thought about how he'd like to feed that fire later tonight. He wondered if Clive would be as quick to burn with passion as he was with rage? He watched as Clive took a sip of the pea and ham soup, his small soft lips pursed like a rose bud. He watched the dainty way Clive held his butter knife, how he nibbled delicately at the bread. "If I were you Clive, I'd eat up while I can. One is forever hungry once on board ship." Ned advised with a grin. When supper was ended they retired to the parlour once more. Ned produced an old battered chess set and laid it on a small table beside Clive. "What say you to a little wager, Clive? The winner takes the bed, the loser gets the hammock?" JJ "I would never take unfair advantage of a new acquaintance. I'm really rather good at chess. Let's say the first game is for introductions. We'll wager only if you can prevent my check for more than six moves. I'm proud to say that they've missed me at Cambridge on the team." "A man of higher education, I see." "Mother began before we were born! She read books aloud while we grew within her. She said she wanted intelligent children. And, I'd never seek to disappoint my parents." "Besides the famous Ross, are there more in your family brood?" "My sisters Arabella and Elizabeth, both younger than me. They are to be feared, I must say. I saw my friend James from school fall in love the moment he laid eyes on them. I asked him which one he liked best and he couldn't tell me. I think he might court Arabella. His father is Earl of Seaford and a suitable match." "So you've lived upon white bread all your life, have you?" "I suppose so. Yet, I hope I'm not a terrible bore." "I find you fascinating." "Like a rare toadstool, perhaps?" Clive asked smiling, his body melting into repose as his eyes glanced from the board to his companion's face. Ned's face grew warm. Did his opponent lick those rosy lips to distract his thoughts? Did he lounge back in his chair, long legs spread, to tease him? The closely tailored uniform hid nothing. He was smiling again, innocently or knowingly? Ned placed his hand on his queen's knight. A twinkle of light reflected off Clive's spectacles when he moved his head. Ned made his move. Immediately, Clive's own knight took the hapless piece. "Check, in five moves." "You are good at chess," Ned replied rolling his eyes. "I'm not good at everything," Clive whispered. "Let's say our good nights to the others. Then, we can go up to our berth." Ned was puzzled a moment. He nodded, but he was taken aback by Clive's sudden advance. The lad did have a burning within. Would it consume them both? Archie Kennedy watched Clive lead young Ned up the stairs to the attic. The lad had his father's looks and movement. He had his father's insatiable passions too, no doubt. Clive would never be false to him. Even so, it might be better to prevent the necessity of a lie. "Mr. Hayworth?" Archie called. "Keep your door open, if you please. A midshipman must always be ready to leap to his duty station." Down from the high eves a silvery voice replied, "Aye, sir." HiH   "I've strung the hammock and the bed is freshly made, Gentlemen," Jonathan called after them, his voice tight. "Sleep well." "I was never good at chess, I should have told you before hand." Ned confessed as they climbed the stairs to the attic. "I knew I would lose so I will take the hammock. Besides I am used to sleeping that way." He glanced sideways at the golden head beside him, the curls reflecting the light of the candle he carried. Perhaps he might still be able to enjoy the challenge of winning his way into Clive's bed yet. The attic room was bitterly cold and both young men shivered involuntarily as they opened the door. Outside the wind could be heard whistling under the eves. "Storms building," Ned said almost absently. "They blow in from the sea." He placed the candlestick on the small table that was beneath the window and drew the curtain back. Outside was pitch black. "So tell me about your family?" Clive asked casually as he proceeded to unbutton his coat. "I seem to have talked all evening about mine." "My father is a banker. He and my mother live in London. I have an older brother and sister, both married. I'm the baby of the family." Ned continued to peer out the window, seeking the moon that was hidden behind the skidding clouds. "I don't see them very often now, I was close to my mother once, but after...after the mutiny, well, when I went home..." he turned back to Clive who was pulling his fine white night-shirt over his head. "I think someone must have told them the truth of what happened, you see. My father could not look me in the eye and every time my mother looked at me she would burst into tears and flee the room. It was frightful! I hardly go home anymore." "Your experiences must have been unimaginable, Ned," Clive said softly. "They were at the time, but Jonathan, er, Mr. Riley really was very kind to me. He has helped me so much." Gone were the layers of bluster and the posing, peeled back to reveal a vulnerable and uncertain boy. "He helped me accept my true nature and see it not as something unnatural or shameful or something that had been forced onto me by what had happened. He showed me what pleasure could be had, he was most generous." Ned dropped his eyes, "I am truly sorry that I could not return the favour for him. I know I hurt him terribly." Troubled by the sudden change in his companion, Clive wondered what to do. He scrambled into bed, the sheets cold and unwelcoming and watched as Ned slowly undressed, his shirt and trousers tossed carelessly onto the floor. He seemed unconscious of his nakedness, a legacy of having lived in crowded quarters for almost half of his life. "Damn, my things are still down in the other bedroom, no one thought to bring them up." Ned reached for his shirt again. "I'll have to sleep in this I suppose." "I have a spare night-shirt in my dunnage if you would like to borrow it, we are much the same size it seems." Clive offered. "Why thank you Mr. Hayworth and I'll take that as a compliment despite the cold!" Ned said with a wink, flippant once more. He padded naked across the floor to where Clive's bags lay. Night-shirt on, Ned looked miserably at the hammock. "I suppose I should blow out the candle and climb in? It's damn cold though, don't you think? Are YOU warm enough Clive?" JJ   "If you don't mind, allow the candle to burn itself out. I like to watch the shadows a while when I'm in a room other than my own." "All right." Clive listened to the creaking of the hammock's ropes. He saw the gleam of Ned's well muscled legs and his small boyish feet. He whispered, "If you remember, we never made an actual wager before the game of chess. Besides, I'm freezing. At school we used to sleep three to a bed. The middle boy was always the warmest. I'd gladly share the bed with you. That is if you'd like to share." Ned turned slowly. He saw a golden angel, his own age, lying on white linen, arms outstretched to enfold him in warmth and kindness. The ice around his heart suddenly melted and he smiled amazed at the vision he'd never thought he'd see. He slid into the bed and fell into the awaiting embrace. He felt Clive's lips on his cheek. Clive whispered, "Good night, Ned. Shake me if I steal the blankets." HiH   "You must learn not to be afraid of the dark, Clive, for when we are aboard Captain Hornblower's ship you will not have the comfort of a candle to see you off to sleep." Ned whispered as he settled himself onto Clive's shoulder. "The sergeant at arms sees that all flames are extinguished each night to prevent fires." Ned shuddered slightly as he spoke. "Fire aboard ship is a terrible thing, Clive. I have seen it, I know." Ned let his fingers stray to the golden hair, so different from his own which was bleached almost white by the sun. "Below decks it is dark, very dark, but you need not be afraid, Clive, for I would never, never do anything to betray your trust. And when we are aboard the Medusa I will make sure no one troubles you. They often make it hard for the new lads, regardless of who you know or who your father is. But I will help you fit in Clive. I will teach you all I know about seamanship if you like?" Gently Clive returned the gesture, his hand stroking the pale waves that lay upon his chest looking almost silver in the candlelight. "That is most generous of you, Ned. I do so wish to make Captain Hornblower and Lieutenant Kennedy proud of me, but I fear life at sea will be quite strange for me at first." "You DO think a lot of them, don't you dear Clive?" The playfulness was back in Ned's voice and his hand moved slightly to play with the pin tucks in the front of Clive's night shirt. "I have told you before, Ned..." "I know, I know, but you have not yet told me what is your hearts desire? Is it the brave Captain Hornblower or is it the handsome Lieutenant Kennedy?" Ned raised his cornflower blues eyes, pleading. "Would you share that with me Clive?" JJ   Meanwhile downstairs in the parlour: "Well gentlemen I think we too should retire. No doubt you are both tired after your long trips today." Jonathan looked at his two guests and smiled. "Peter, if you please, I will show Archie to his room. I know you can find your way, since you have been here before." "Of course," Peter replied dryly. Jonathan lit a candle and handed it to the small dark-haired Captain. "I'll be along shortly. Come Archie." They climbed the stairs to the first floor and Jonathan opened a door on the right. Archie smiled as he entered the small room, still filled with Jonathan's boyhood treasures; wooden boats, oil paintings of ships, a collection of driftwood and feathers and several old books, all as he had left them when he went to sea almost eight years ago. "I hope you find the bed comfortable, Archie. It is only small." Jonathan said as he hesitated in the middle of the room. He licked his lips nervously, aware that his heart was suddenly racing. He remembered all the times he had thought about seeing Archie again, of his plans for their reunion. He sighed sadly, for his dreams seldom came true. "Is there any thing you need, Archie? Anything you want before I go?"   JJ   In The Attic: "Have you ever been aboard ship?" "Oh my yes! Mother used to sail us to Denmark every summer. I've been to Ireland and Holland, back when things were calmer." "Your mother has a ship?" "Father has the fine yacht. Mother booked us passage on well-guarded merchant ships when we travelled abroad. We were chased by a French privateer once. The Indefatigable saved us. I saw my friend Mr. Hornblower, a lieutenant then, standing next to Captain Pellew. Mr. Kennedy was commanding the bow chasers. I waved until my arm felt it was near breaking." "You DO think a lot of them, don't you dear Clive?" The playfulness was back in Ned's voice and his hand moved slightly to play with the pin tucks in the front of Clive's night shirt. "I have told you before, Ned..." "I know, I know, but you have not yet told me what is your hearts desire? Is it the brave Captain Hornblower or is it the handsome Lieutenant Kennedy?" Ned raised his cornflower blues eyes, pleading. "Would you share that with me Clive?" "Give me your word, as a gentleman, that my revelation will go no farther than this room. I will tolerate no falseness." "You have my word, Clive." "I have loved Captain Hornblower since the first day I saw him. He was standing near Father whose eyes were bandaged. There had been an accident and Dr. Hornblower was the closest medical man. Well, I was only five years old. And now, ten years later, I feel the same way. Only, I'm at a loss how to show my affection. I can do no more than shine brightly for him, completing my tasks, answering respectfully and fulfilling my duty to King and Country." A moment after Clive finished speaking, the candle guttered in a sudden draft and winked out. The young aristocrat shivered and clutched at his bed partner. "Please forgive me, Ned," Clive whispered. "It took me by surprise." "Don't be afraid," Ned said, stroking the golden waves of corn silk hair. Ned felt his companion's breath against his neck. Clive seemed to be pressing full length against him still trembling. Ned leaned into his companion and slid his leg between Clive's long legs. The warmth of bare flesh was delicious. "No one at school ever guessed my secret," Clive murmured into Ned's shoulder, his breath warm through the fine cloth of the night-shirt. Ned ran his hand down the younger man's back and over his lean hip. At once he felt Clive move and press a hot kiss onto his chest. Then, Clive's cool hand stroked him, brushed against his nipple and hardened it through the fabric covering it. Clive's lips found his other nipple and licked it, wetting the shirt. Ned arched into the pleasurable sensation. No doubt Clive was over his little fright. Clive whispered, "I may do no more than a few kisses, I'm afraid. I know Mr. Kennedy is listening. I will not disobey him." "Kiss me then. I'm more than willing," Ned answered. HiH   "A warm kiss, Jonathan," Archie said smiling, his arms open. "I've missed you." Jonathan fell into the strong arms. He pressed against the firm chest and listened to a racing heart. He turned his face upward and met the lips of the man who had taught him so much. A mixture of emotions stirred within him. Bitter regret and deep sorrow swirled like a dark current against solace and joy. "Remember only the best of the past," Archie whispered in his ear. "Forget the rest." "I love you, Archie," Jonathan said. "I'm fond of you too," Archie said pressing his friend to him, smoothing back the riotous red curls. "You are loved by many. Peter, most of all." "I've made a mess of things with him. It's a wonder he's even here." "You'll be sailing together. Tonight, make your peace with him. Young Ned is out of your care. No one will come between you two again." "Can you be so sure?" "Remember when Horatio ran into us in Portsmouth with only a few hours leave? I could not bear to turn him away. He is my life's companion. Now, I see the way Peter looks at you. Have you ever looked back? I imagine you've been mourning Kerrison. What he did was a brave and noble thing. You know I'd do it for Horatio. I believe you'd do it for me. But, at this moment, we are the living. We must go on living no matter how painful it might seem. Go to Peter. He's waiting. Let him express his feelings. Then you will understand what I'm talking about." Jonathan looked up at Archie. Tears shone in both men's eyes. A final embrace and Jonathan turned to go. At the door, Jonathan said, "Good night, Archie. And thank you." Archie smiled. He winked too. Then he said, "Oh! Leave my door open in case those two scamps in the loft get up to any mischief." Jonathan nodded and chuckled a little. HiH   "Archie! You are too hard on the lads! Don't you remember when YOU were that age? I do! Let them have a little fun ashore. They will have to be more circumspect aboard ship. It's best to let them get it out of their system now where they can do so safely and without fear." Archie considered Jonathan's words. "I have a duty of care towards young Clive Hayworth. His father has entrusted him to me to see that no harm comes to him. In many ways I see him as my own son." He shrugged his shoulders. "It is always best to exercise caution Jonathan." Jonathan tried to hide his smile as he remembered a time when Archie had thrown caution to the wind, a wind called The Mistral. "Of course you are right, you know more of the boy that I do. But let me assure you that Ned would never do anything...unwelcome. I would not want you to think that his experiences have made him cruel or insensitive. Do you understand." The flash in Jonathan's eyes took Archie unawares. "Of course Jonathan, it was not my intention to imply that Grayson would be the instigator. Clive can be high spirited like his father. He was almost expelled on several occasions for his pranks. It was your Ned for whom I held the most concern. He may not realise who he has taken on." "Ned can look after himself. I've seen to that at least." Jonathan turned away suddenly. "Good night then, sleep well." As the door across the hall to Jonathan's own room closed, Archie became aware of a tapping on the window. It was like a knock but Archie remembered there were no tress against the house to account for such a noise. Cautiously he pulled back the curtain to reveal a young man clinging precariously to the first floor windowsill. As his large brown eyes registered first shock, then fear, his fingers began to slip. Archie opened the window and grabbed the boy's hands, as his feet began to scramble for a foothold on the trellis he had climbed. With a tug Archie pulled him over the sill and into the room, the curtains billowing around them with the strong wind. Outside lightening flashed and thunder sounded. It was beginning to rain. Archie closed the window then turned to look at the boy who huddled, wet and dripping on the floor. "WHO are you and WHAT were you doing?" "Please sir, I meant no harm. Me name's Tom Tyler and I was looking for Mr. Ned, sir. This was his room yer see. I just wanted to see him, tis all." The boy began shaking, whether from the cold or fear, Archie was not sure. Tyler shook back his wet straggly brown hair and wrapped his arms about himself. "What will yer do with me sir? Me father will beat me if thinks I been causing trouble up here." JJ   In the Attic Their kiss started slowly at first, hesitantly as each strove to get the measure of the other, unsure of their partners expectations or experience. Once more it was Clive who pressed further, taking Ned by surprise again. The open mouth, the tongue lapping gently at his lips were indications that Clive was no novice to this; not like Tom Tyler had been. The kisses now hot and sultry aroused Ned's curiosity almost as much as they aroused his passion. Unexpectedly, Clive pressed hard against him and Ned rolled onto his back. Clive immediately broke away. "I'm sorry, I did not intend..." he stuttered as he fought to regain his breath. "I would not want you to feel...uncomfortable, Ned." "No harm, Clive," Ned whispered, taking in the delightfully flushed face, so different without those owlish glasses. His lips were redder now too, parted slightly as he panted. Ned could feel Clive hard against his leg. He moved his hand casually to brush against him as if by accident. "I am not afraid of you or of this. Jonathan saw to that." Ned licked his lips, considering his next move. He liked Clive, more than liked him if he was truly honest with himself. But Clive's words earlier concerning Captain Hornblower had left Ned feeling empty. He'd felt the same way about Jonathan when he was younger. But he had come to see his adoration for what it was and it had fallen far short of real love. Now Ned hoped to make Clive see that his feelings for his Captain were the same. Perhaps then their new friendship would have a chance to grow into something more. With that thought in mind Ned proceeded. "Jonathan showed me the most pleasurable thing and I'd like to show you, Clive. I think you would like it." "Only kissing, Ned, or Lieutenant Kennedy will hear us." Clive replied again, ending with a slight gasp when Ned rubbed his erection again. "It's akin to kissing, Clive, for you use your mouth. And I can keep very quiet. I have had long practice with that aboard ship." Ned rolled back against Clive and kissed his mouth quickly, his hand now running the length of Clive's erection hoping the younger man would understand what his was proposing. "What say you, Clive? Can I show you?" JJ   "It wouldn't be fair. I wouldn't know what to do." "You mean you wouldn't want to?" "I couldn't. Not with Mr. Kennedy listening. I'd be afraid of hurting you if I tried it." "Let me show you at least. Some other time you can do it for me. Agreed?" "I'm not sure I can remain quiet. Give me the pillow and I can smother my cries." "Smother yourself, more than likely. Then I'd surely hang," Ned said in mock annoyance. Clive kissed him again and whispered in his ear, licking around it as he spoke, "Let me find my travelling bag. I have a small flask of oil. I'll rub your back. We can't get in trouble for that, can we?" A rustle of cloth, a shaft of lightning flashed and Clive's naked white form gleamed. Ned licked his lips. The scent of jasmines mixed with the musky smell of sex. A moment later, when the younger man leaped back under the blankets, his feet were like ice. His loins were damp. "Roll on to your stomach," Clive instructed. Ned complied, pulling off his fine shirt too. Clive lay at his side, one arm laced across the small of Ned's back, the other arm under in a warm embrace. The oil was jasmine scented and it warmed the skin where it was spread. Firm fingertips pressed along the edges of Ned's shoulder blades and into the flesh on either side of his spine. The well oiled fingers stroked downward and kneaded Ned's firm backside. He pressed into the mattress and sighed. "Are you ready to turn over?" Clive whispered after delicious minutes had passed. Ned rolled and freed Clive's other arm. Gracefully Clive lifted his friend's arms and kissed the nearest of the deep recesses. Ned shivered and groaned. His arms closed over Clive like a wall of sea water. Ned wrestled gently and managed to get a firm hold. Fiercely he whispered, "Finish me or I shall die." Clive trailed his slick fingers down his companion's body. He teased the nipples to hardness. He circled the hollow of Ned's navel. Then Clive bent down over his bed fellow, sucking first one nipple and then the other, while his fingers lidded over the moist head of Ned's penis. Ned fumbled underneath Clive, between his legs and finally laid hold of him too. He stroked and pulled in time with his own pleasure. A moment later, their effusions mingled and they stifled each other's cry with a deep kiss. They sank immediately into deathlike repose, having only enough energy in reserve to pull up the blankets. Both shirts lay on the floor, very much like white flags of surrender. HiH   In Archie's Room "First of all, sit here and calm yourself. No one will beat you, lad. Not while I'm here. You said you are here to see Mr. Grayson? He's upstairs with one of my midshipmen. Allow me to call them down and let's get this thing sorted out, eh?" "I sees him with a fine gentleman this afternoon, sir. An' I don't mean to put myself forward, sir. I just wanted to ask him if...if he..." The lad was shivering and Archie remembered more than one frightened boy he'd known in the past. He poured him a small glass of rum from the night stand. Jonathan had recalled that he liked a little sip to get to sleep. Archie sighed. He watched the boy gulp down the potent liquor. Stepping to the door, Archie called up the stair. "Gentlemen? Duty calls in my quarters in five minutes. Be quick if you please." Jonathan peeked out his door. "Is there a problem?" "Nothing I can't handle, sir," Archie said with a grin. "Go back to your bed. I'll see you both in the morning." HiH   In Jonathan's Room: "Well Ned Grayson certainly seems much recovered!" Peter Crittenden replied casually as Jonathan closed the door. He was sitting up the bed, reclining against a rose covered pillow. His night-shirt opened at the throat, looked stark white against the tanned skin. "And what makes you say that?" Jonathan retorted, still a little angered by his conversation with Archie. He had hoped to be spending the evening in a different bed. Archie's gentle refusal coming so hard on the heels of Ned's was like grinding glass into an open wound. "What I meant was that by your own admission Ned has seduced one local lad and it seems he's trying his luck with young Hayworth even as we speak." "Peter! I do not like what you are implying!" "All I am implying, Jonathan, that you have done your work admirably. That the lad has no 'problems' now, thanks to you, and that he is able to enjoy a 'relationship' with others. That IS what you were hoping for, isn't it Jonathan?" Jonathan silently cursed Peter for making him see the logic of it all. "Yes, you know that is true," he admitted reluctantly. "BUT it STILL hurts, because I wanted to be the one. I love him Peter!" A snort was Peter's only reply for a moment. "You fall in love too easily, Jonathan," he said softly, a gleam in his green eyes and a gentle smile on his lips. "Archie Kennedy, Jack Kerrison and now Ned!" "You can talk! Why you have had far more lovers that I can ever dream of!" "Yes, but I don't fall in love with them all. I understand the difference between lust and love. I don't give my heart every time I give..." Jonathan silenced him with a gesture. "Enough, I know what you are trying to say!" "No you don't Jonathan." Peter continued gently. "I am not making light of the strength of your feelings. Such ability to love is an admirable quality. It makes you different, Jonathan." Their eyes met and Jonathan caught his breath, remembering Archie's words. Surely he had been mistaken, for Peter had long ago declared that he was not interested in anything more than friendship. But there was something there, hidden in the green depths and it made Jonathan wonder. He looked away suddenly uncomfortable. Outside, Archie's voice called and Jonathan wondered what was the matter. When Archie had assured him that all was well he wandered to the dresser. "I shall blow this out and prepare for bed," he said bending towards the candle. "Leave it Jonathan, I was hoping to catch a glimpse of that infamous tattoo that you are always so worried about." Those green eyes were glinting playfully at him again and Jonathan turned his back, even more unnerved by Peter's flippancy. He shed his clothes slowly, acutely aware of Peter's gaze burning his back, although he could not see him. Finally, he looked over his shoulder as he let his breeches drop to the floor. "So what do you think?" "I'm rather impressed!" Peter's eyes roved up and down, taking in far more than the tattoo. "Come closer so that I may see it better." With a sigh of resignation, Jonathan crossed the floor to stand by the bedside, his heart beating wildly. "Ned said he could never look at me without remembering. Remembering what it stood for and who it stood for. He found it disgusting." He sat down beside Peter and looked his friend in the eye. "What do you think when you see it Peter?" One small fine finger reached forward and traced the lines of the K gently. "It makes me wish that Crittenden was spelt with a K not a C and that it was my initial." Something passed between them. Something unspoken but full of meaning; powerful. Jonathan looked into Peter's eyes past the flippancy and the casual exterior, past the barriers so carefully kept in place all these years. He looked deeper, seeming to almost fall into Peter's soul until he found the little spark that was hidden away and guarded fiercely. Love. They kissed, a gentle meeting of lips, slow and hesitant, both unsure, neither wanting to rush this. The stakes were high, different now. For this was more to do with the heart than the body. The risks were great but so were the rewards. "I too have a tattoo, you know," Peter confessed almost shyly. "It's not as visible as yours. It's in a far more...intimate place." "Will you show me?" Jonathan asked, aware that he was blushing under Peter's gaze. "Find it yourself," Peter challenged as he drew Jonathan to him. JJ   "Dear God! What are YOU doing here?" Was Ned Grayson's startled declaration as he stared at Tom Tyler who was shivering and now swaying slightly on his feet from the rum. Tom was unused to liquor of any kind as his father was a staunch Methodist. He sniffed loudly and looked from Ned to Clive, both once more dressed in their night-shirt but still flushed and rumpled from their shared pleasure. The look was unmistakable. Tears seeped slowly from Tyler's eyes and he brushed them away with a shaking hand. "You told me...you told me..." was all the boy could manage to say before a loud sob escaped his throat. "Tom you must go home!" Ned exclaimed wringing his hands. "You have disturbed Lieutenant Kennedy's rest. I will come and see you tomorrow before I leave." "Leave?" The boy's voice squeaked, cracking as he tried to master his sorrow. "But where are yer going?" "I'm going to Portsmouth with Lieutenant Kennedy and Mr. Hayworth to see if their Captain will take me on." Tyler shivered again, a small puddle was forming where he stood. Archie drew a blanket from the bed and draped it around the wet shoulders. "Can I come too then, Ned? You said I could go on the Wasp with yer. Yer promised me. I'd have never let yer...never let yer do those things if I thought I'd never see yer again." Tyler cast a frightened look at Archie and Clive and dropped his eyes again in shame. "My father would kill me if he knew. He'd say I was cursed and damned and an abomination!" "Tom!" Ned hissed, "Have a care of what you are saying!" Tom's eyes came up in defiance. "Why? Yer just been doing it, or something of it." He nodded towards Clive. "With him, it was. I can smell it on yer both!" "Gentlemen, I think it might be best to continue this discussion in the morning. This young man will take a chill if he stands here any longer." Archie turned to Tom. "Come, take off those wet clothes and get warm in the bed while I find you something to wear." Suddenly Tom backed towards the window, afraid. "Here, what are you about?" he asked, staring at Archie with distrust. "Giving me liquor and now making me take off me clothes?" He stumbled, his feet tripping uncertainly on the edge of the mat and he fell backwards, hitting his head with a resounding bang on the floor as he landed, unconscious. JJ   "Strip him, Gentlemen," Archie said in a tone he hoped sounded like Mr. Bracegirdle's. "Rub him dry and stow him in the bed. I'll take a blanket and sleep near the fire in the parlour." "Aye, sir," Clive responded, giving Ned a slap that shook him out of his stupor. Grayson and Hayworth went about the business of removing the youth's clothing. His flesh was chilled blue. Mr. Kennedy made the lad comfortable in bed and sighed in relief when he came to his senses. "Rest easy there, lad," he ordered softly. "No one's going to harm you. Would you like a little more rum? It will ease the headache. And, be at ease. I promise, my word as an officer of the Royal Navy, no one will touch you." "I want to go." "There's a frightful storm outside. And you are in no condition to walk home." "The rain don't matter. I can't go back home. And I've nothing here." In a flash Archie recognised despair in the boy's voice, in his dull eyes. The lad planned to do himself harm. "Mr. Grayson?" Archie said. "Perhaps you can soothe your friend. You seem to have made some promises." Ned cleared his throat and shook his head about to deny everything. Then he met the cool blue eyes of an officer of the King's Navy and he realised Mr. Kennedy was testing him, watching what he would do. Ned sat down on the edge of the bed and brushed back Tom's hair. The boy smiled, tears still streaming down his face. Archie laid his hands on Clive's shoulders. He combed his fingers through the silken hair and pulled it back into some sense of order. Then he gave the lad's shoulders a squeeze and motioned toward the door. With a blanket and pillow under his arm, Archie left the room, Clive in his wake. HiH   "Mr. Kennedy sir?" Ned Grayson stuck his head out of the door, his eyes worried. "Should I stay here all night with him sir? He's frightfully upset. I don't know what to do?" Archie looked at the forlorn young midshipman and saw genuine concern in his worried eyes. "Yes, Mr. Grayson. I think you may need to stand watch on your young friend. The duty should be yours since you are the one responsible for this situation." "Yes sir, I know. But I was serious about Tom coming on the Wasp with me. We are always in need of more hands and he knows a bit about the sea." Working on a fishing boat was a far cry from a frigate, but Archie kept that insight to himself. "Do you think sir, that perhaps...." Ned licked his lips nervously. "That perhaps there might be a place for him on the Medusa? That would cheer him up." From around the door a second face peeked, hair still in wet straggles, a sheet clasped to his chest, goose bumps standing out on his dirty skin. "I'm a good worker, sir, I am, real good." Tom Tyler slurred. He swayed on his feet and Ned quickly threw an arm around his friend to keep him upright. "Go back to bed, Tom. Your...drunk!" "You come too then? Like the other times eh?" Tom leaned heavily against Ned's shoulder and smiled dreamily. "I'll let yer do that stuff again if'n yer want." "In a minute Tom," Ned exclaimed pushing the boy upright and sending him back to the bed. He turned back to Archie. "So may he? May he come along with us, Sir?" JJ   In Jonathan's Room: "Oh MY GOD!" Jonathan's cry was not one of ecstasy although an onlooker would have been forgiven for thinking so. From where he knelt between Peter's parted thighs, hands gripping slim hips, a pair of slender legs wrapped around his waist, one would guess that Jonathan was in the midst of carnal pleasure. Indeed that had been his intent until his unexpected discovery. "It says CRUMPET!" he exclaimed. "CRUMPET!" "A pet name Jonathan, there is no need to fuss," was Peter's dry reply. "But Crumpet! Crumpet?" Peter Crittenden slowly lowered his legs and propped himself up on his elbows trying to gather the shreds of his dignity. He shook back the black waves of his hair and cleared his throat. "Yes, Crumpet, as in 'a bit of crumpet'. It was Robert's idea; Captain Bell's. When I was serving under him on the Nightingale." Jonathan raised his eyebrows speculatively. "Yes, in both senses if you need clarification. It seems some of the ratings got wind of what was up and I was given the unfortunate nickname of 'The Captain's Little Crumpet'. Rather than be annoyed, Robert found it amusing and he began calling me that too." Peter lay back and looked at the ceiling, hoping his olive complexion would hide his embarrassment. "When we were next in London together Robert suggested the tattoo. Of course I was very drunk at the time or I would never have consented to it." "But how did you find someone to do it there!" Jonathan touched the small blue letters that were all but hidden from sight. There was no chance anyone would see them by accident. Peter sighed and shook his head at Jonathan's naivet�. "In London, one can find someone to do anything if one knows where to look and what to pay." "It must have hurt," Jonathan said with a wince. "I mean the position alone...with your legs..." Jonathan shuddered. "The opium helped," Peter confessed trying to ignore Jonathan's shocked looked. "And Robert brought some friends along to watch and they were happy to assist!" Jonathan realised his mouth was hanging open and shut it quickly. He swallowed, searching desperately for something to say, but failing. He looked away, unsettled by his discoveries. "It was years ago Jonathan, and I was younger than you are now. I grew tired of all that, I've told you before." Peter reached out and touched Jonathan's shoulder, trying to recapture what he feared he had lost. "I see Robert on occasion for old times sake, but I don't go to the parties even when he asks me and I have no time for his friends. That's the truth Jonathan." Slowly Jonathan's eyes came back. Slowly they softened and smiled and forgave. For the past was the past despite the reminders that each man carried. It was the present that mattered, this moment that they shared. It had the power to shape their whole lives if they so desired; or it could be lost because of petty jealousy over things that could not be changed. Jonathan reached out and took Peter's hand, conscious of the irony in the situation. He faced the same challenge that Ned Grayson had faced; but where Ned had failed by living in the past, Jonathan would succeed by looking to the future. "Let's start again, Peter," Jonathan whispered before pulling his friend back into his arms. JJ   Lieutenant Kennedy stood up very straight in his night-shirt. He glared at the young scoundrel in front of him while he inhaled the sultry scent of Clive Hayworth behind him. A stab of despair tore through his heart when he thought of the voyage to come and the young men who wanted so desperately to go aboard his ship. Kennedy knew the midshipmen's berth was always a place full of the seething humours of youthful exuberance. Even so, no midshipman in his right mind dallied with a man who worked before the mast. So, it was time now to make that distinction. "Mr. Grayson," Kennedy said gravely. "You will watch over your charge from the comfort of the wooden chair within that room. You may rest yourself when he grows quiet. Even so, under no circumstances are you to fraternise with a man below your station. Is that understood?" "Yes, I mean aye, sir," Grayson stammered. "I'll need to explain it to Tom. He's not exactly right in his head just now." "See that you explain it carefully then. Good night to you both," Kennedy said nodding in answer to the boy's salute, glad the dimness of the hall hid his guilty statement. As soon as the door was shut, Archie whispered, "Clive?" "Aye, sir!" came the familiar voice out of the shadows. "Come with me to the parlour and sit a while by the fire if you please. I can hear your teeth chattering. What would you father think of me if you died of pneumonia before the voyage has even begun?" In the parlour, Archie knelt before the fire and poked it to flames adding new tinder and then a stick or two of wood. In a few moments, the blaze illuminated Clive's warm tones enlivening his ivory complexion. The rich smell of the burning pine blended like incense with the musky scent of the young man. Archie caught himself longing for a kiss. "I didn't notice the scent you're wearing now earlier at dinner," Archie stated dryly hoping to spur the young man into some sort of explanation. "It's jasmine massage oil, sir," Clive answered. "From my mother." "Your mother?" "She's quite knowledgeable, sir. She was afraid I'd try to use the oil they keep at school to clean the muskets. That's what the other boys use. Ross must have told her." "She sent you massage oil?" "I had trouble sleeping at school. I never lacked a friend to help me." "I suppose not." "Sir? Wouldn't you be more comfortable in a bed?" "Yes, I would." "May I suggest the one upstairs? It has hardly been used at all. And, I'll sleep in the hammock. It will do me good, sir." "All right. I need my rest, you know. I seem to be getting old." HiH   "Sir, I mean no disrespect, but I feel I must speak up in defence of my father's honour!" Clive said suddenly, his voice quivering slightly, the firelight playing in his hair. Archie blinked, taken by surprise. "Go ahead then Mr. Hayworth, I value honesty." "Sir, your words just now to Ned Grayson are contrary to how my father has lived his life! Indeed, he would be dead several times over had he followed such advice. Sergeant Billy Mellors has been his life long companion and yet he would be considered far below father's station in life. My father is an Earl but found friendship, and yes, love in the arms of a common criminal! In all his advice to me he has never once differentiated between the common man and one of noble birth. He has given his blessing to my brother Ross' friendship with his friend Jeremy, who is but a farmer's son and enlisted in the ranks to follow my brother and watch over him safety." Clive paused and took a breath, his blue eyes flashing with a passion that Archie had not seen before. "I can not believe, Sir, that my father would feel the same way about Ned and Tom as you do!" Archie considered the words and had to concede Lord Edrington might well see things in a different light. He tried to explain, "Certain standards must be maintained aboard ship, Mr. Hayworth. It is a small world, discipline is of the utmost importance." "As it is in an Infantry company, the men living close whilst on campaign. But still such friendships form, regardless of rank or station. Why should such be frowned upon?" Clive drew his fair brows together and leaned closer to Archie, the scent of Jasmine pervading the air. "I have known Mr. Grayson but a short time, but I have found him to be a deeply troubled soul. He is searching so desperately for something to cling to, something to direct him. I fear he may become...a loose cannon...if he fails to find a heart that will love him back. He gives his affections far too easily, and there is a danger in that. I think he had hoped to find such with me, but my heart is already with another. But I know he feels something for Tom Tyler and it is obvious that the boy adores him." Archie's eyes widened and he was on the point of asking further when they were interrupted. Jonathan burst into the parlour, eyes wild, face flushed. Where his night-shirt hung open there was a distinct bruise on his chest that resembled a set of teeth. "What is going on Archie?" Jonathan demanded. "I was interrupted by voices yet again and when I went to investigate, I found Tom Tyler, drunk and naked in your bed declaring that he would do anything for you if you would just take him along too. Neddy is sitting in a chair, tears streaming down his face and smelling like a brothel at the end of a hard night. When I asked him what he was doing, he said that YOU had told him he had to sit there all night. The lad was half frozen. Now I come down here and find you looking very cosy with young Mr. Hayworth." Jonathan folded his arms and fixed Archie with a stare. "WHAT have you been doing with these lad's Archie?" JJ   "Quite honestly, Jonathan, this young Solomon here has been lecturing me," Archie said with a bemused smile. "Having not spent more than a day aboard ship, he believes he knows more than his elders." Clive stood his ground, raised his chin and said, "I meant no disrespect, sir. But it is clear to me that Ned and Tom are friends. To separate them would be cruel." "Jonathan, come sit with me, please," Archie said, patting the little sofa, a grin growing on his face. Then he addressed Clive, "Please explain to Mr. Riley the lavish scent he noticed upon the body of Mr. Grayson." "Begging your pardon sir," Clive said to Mr. Riley, "I often have trouble sleeping. Tonight, Mr. Grayson was kind enough to rub my back." Clive glanced nervously from Mr. Riley to Mr. Kennedy, no doubt hoping he'd said enough. Archie said, "Go on, if you please. About the scent." "Well, you see, for a proper massage, my mother sends me a preparation. Jasmine scented oil," Clive explained. "It sends me to sleep instantly." The young man's ivory complexion bloomed into roses as he spoke. The firelight warmed the tones of his pale freckled skin and glinted off the gold of his hair. Both older men seemed to watch his soft lips as he spoke, enchanted by his sincerity. Archie laced his arm over Jonathan's shoulder. He pulled him close for a quick kiss on the cheek. "Go back to bed, Jonathan," Archie said. "I'll lift the sentence I imposed upon Grayson. He and his young friend can have their time together. Clive and I will go upstairs. I'm really too old for all this excitement." Jonathan nodded. "I feel the years myself sometimes." Then he winked at Clive who smiled back at him. "You'll guard your Lieutenant well tonight, won't you Midshipman?" "With my life, sir," Clive breathed, eyes blazing with the heroic zeal of youth. "Then once again, I bid my guests good night," Jonathan said, walking down the hall and slipping quietly back into his room. HiH   Archie and Clive paused outside the room where Ned and Tom reposed. Archie stuck his head inside to find Ned still shivering in the chair, his knees tucked up under his chin, his small feet poking out. He looked like a little boy. "Sir?" Ned asked mournfully. "Get into that bed, Mr. Grayson and get yourself warm. We will work this whole sorry mess out in the morning." "But Sir..." "In the morning Mr. Grayson, that's an order." "Yes sir," Ned replied leaping under the covers and burrowing close to Tom who wrapped his arms around his friend and closed his eyes. Upstairs in the attic, Archie was soon shivering himself. The wind that was shrieking outside, seemed to find it's way in through cracks and holes chilling the room. Archie climbed into the old bed amid the rumpled sheets inhaling the mixture of scents. He watched as Clive stood staring at the hammock as if trying to decide how to get into the thing. "Come Clive, it is far too cold. Sleep here with me; that way we might both keep warm. This is a draughty room. No wonder you lads had trouble sleeping before." Clive's eyes lit up. "Sir, if you have trouble sleeping please allow me to rub your back. Ned found it most beneficial and had no trouble falling asleep afterwards." I'm sure he didn't, Archie though, as he looked at the angel before him. The scent of jasmines and sex permeated the very air of the room. He thought about the pleasures that were probably being enjoyed downstairs by both couples and felt a longing stir within. "I'll be very careful sir, and I am sure this wouldn't be considered a breech of conduct. Would it?" So trusting, so innocent. Archie remembered he had been like that once himself, so very long ago. But where he had found the wrong partner, Clive had been fortunate to find the right ones. The young man slid in beside him, his feet cold where they brushed against Archie's legs. "You're cold too Sir, you're shaking." Clive whispered, wriggling closer. In one hand he held the small jar of oil. "Shall I rub your back Sir? It can be quite warming too." JJ   "You may start on my neck, if you would be so kind. It tends to stiffen in the cold. Ah, there's a good lad." "I told you it was soothing. Mother is a firm believer in massage." "God bless your mother, and your father too. You are a lucky boy to have such parents. Did I ever tell you about mine?" "No, sir. I gathered that you went away to sea when you were a very young man." "I did, and there my troubles grew. My mother was a good woman, loving and sweet, like yours. My father was not a kind man. So, I longed for approval as a boy. Aboard ship, I fell into the company of an older man who promised to care for me. He said he was fond of me. Foolishly, I believed him. He took advantage of my youth. And then, he tormented me." "Was there no one to protect you?" "Our captain was very old, sick too. The lieutenants of a 74 were not concerned with what went on in the midshipmen's berth. There were over six hundred men aboard Justinian. I suffered quietly. I could not even ask for help. You see, by the time I realised I was in danger, I was guilty of a great crime. My oppressor knew it. He used his knowledge against me everyday." "How did you escape?" "Our Captain Horatio signed on as a midshipman. He challenged the man who was troubling me. There was a duel and the man was wounded and put on shore. Horatio and I were transferred away to Indefatigable. Nevertheless, I discovered that I did not make good my escape. The man returned and worked even greater mischief. Then, Captain Pellew shot him trying to murder Horatio." "How fortunate I am to have a protector like you then." "If I touched you now, dearest Clive, I would be guilty of a more terrible crime than Simpson ever committed." "How can that be? I know you would never hurt me." "You must understand that I gave my word to your father when I shared his bed. You are like a son to me." "Then, my father's lover, I will kiss your cheek this night and sleep sweetly in your embrace." "You've warmed me, my Angel. Lay your head here upon my breast. I will keep you safe in my arms." Clive laid his golden curls down on Archie's chest. Soon their hearts beat in rhythm and their breathing grew heavy. Despite the rattling of the window and the tapping of the tree's branches in the bitter wind, Archie and Clive spent a peaceful night. Both woke refreshed and cheerful in the morning, wondering how the others had spent the night. HiH   In the bedroom below, Ned woke to a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Wake up Ned, I want to talk to yer." Slowly Ned opened his eyes to find himself confronted by a forlorn pair of brown eyes. "What were yer doing last night with that Mr. Hayworth? I thought yer loved me Ned and yet yer were doing stuff with him, weren't yer?" "Tom, I never said that I...that I..." "But that's what yer made me think, yer know yer did." Ned looked away, suddenly ashamed. "Yer don't love that Mr. Hayworth, yer can't when yer hardly know him?" Tom's words were true, Ned realised. He didn't love Clive and sadly he knew that Clive didn't love him, probably would never love him. But there were other things that drew them together. "Clive is like me, Ned. We share the same...society. We can talk about the same things. We understand each other." "I bet yer never talked to him like yer talked to me? Did yer tell him about what happened to yer? All of it? Of how scared yer were and how it hurt? Did yer cry on his shoulder and tell him how for so long you wanted to die? How you wished they had cut yer throat and thrown yer overboard? Or how yer wanted to die in the fire and how yer hated Mr. Riley fer draggin' yer out. Did yer tell him how yer jumped overboard that time but Mr. Riley dived in and saved yer and how everyone thought it was just an accident?" "No, I didn't." Tom's brushed a tear from Ned's cheek. "Yer told me those things. Yer told me long before I let yer do that stuff. Remember how yer read me those tales from the books because I wanted to know what the pictures were about? The elephant, and the rhiniosaur...or whatever the beast was called." Tom licked his lips, his own eyes smarting tears. "Yer said yer'd teach me to read. Yer promised. Yer said that we would sail together and that you'd teach me and that we would see the wonders of the world." "Tom, I'm sorry." Ned whispered. The warm arms held him tighter. There was a haven in Tom's arms, a place to feel safe, a place where he was accepted, scars and all; a place where he could be himself. "I love yer Ned, I thought yer knew it." Tom whispered into his hair. "And I'll prove it to yer. I'll let yer do that other thing; the one that hurt too much. But I'll let yer try it again and I won't stop yer this time, I promise yer. Just say that yer won't leave me here when yer go, please? I couldn't bear to lose yer now." "Oh Tom." He wasn't worth the sacrifice, Ned told himself. He didn't deserve Tom's blind trust. And yet there it was, offered freely, offered with love. Ned kissed the roughened lips, still tasting slightly of rum. His hands wandered the wiry arms and legs, slipped up and down the thin rib cage. "I love yer," Tom whispered again, magic words, that held the power to heal a thousand wounds of the heart and the mind. "I love you too Tom," Ned said, suddenly realising it was true. "And we don't have to do anything. We'll just lie here, like this for a while until it is time to get up. I will speak to Mr. Kennedy and ask him if you can come along as ...our cabin servant. That way we can be together and I will teach you to read and show you all the wonders of the world!" JJ "Crumpets? Is this some sort of bad attempt at humour Jonathan?" Peter Crittenden eyed the offending offerings that Jerusha Tyler had placed on the table and folded his arms. "Really Jonathan, I don't find this at all funny." "Honestly Peter, I had no idea she was making them. Don't cause a fuss, love." Jonathan said, trying to placate his friend. "And don't start that 'love' talk with me! I am your Captain and I will kindly ask you to remember it! I KNEW this was a bad idea!" Peter was not at his best after a night of broken sleep. "Well I think it was a very good idea!" Jonathan declared. "Your problem is that you are too...pushy!" "And we are both too fond of being on the bottom! It will simply never work." Peter grabbed a crumpet and started buttering it violently. "Well it wouldn't hurt you to oblige me just once!" Jonathan declared in exasperation. "After all I was happy to top you for most of the night...ah Archie, I didn't see you there! Good morning!" Archie Kennedy and his young charge Clive Hayworth stood quietly in the doorway. Archie face held a broad smile whilst Clive's eyes looked round with surprise behind his spectacles. He closed his mouth quickly. Peter Crittenden drew one hand across his eyes and shook his head with a slight moan. "Yes do come in and sit down. We have crumpets for breakfast. Jonathan has a delightful story that I am sure he is just dying to share with you!" "Peter!" Jonathan hissed, "Enough of this." He playfully tugged at Peter's long hair, once again tied back in a neat queue. The green eyes glinted at him for a moment before a smile broke onto Peter's face. "That's better." Jonathan said, smiling back. "Now all we have to worry about is those other two youngsters!" JJ   "If it pleases, I'll fetch them immediately," Clive said, blinking owlishly in the bright morning light of the breakfast room. The young man's spectacles reflected the sun's glare. Outside, the sky was a clear blue and the wind was brisk. Tiny waves white capped on the puddles in the yard. Broken tree branches seemed to call up images of a weary ship's spars after a storm. Yet, the wheeling gulls seemed to enjoy the rough eddies of the higher airs even if men did not. Archie raised his brow. "Well, Jonathan?" he said. "Should Clive tell them to shake a leg?" Jonathan glared a moment, knowing exactly why his friend used the sailor's phrase. Sullenly, he said, "Permission granted, Archie, as long as he returns immediately. And, I must add, I will permit no one at breakfast who smells like they've spent the night in the Grand Turk's harem." The young Hayworth blushed handsomely, the rosy colour flooding his cheeks. "Understood, sir," he said softly, nodding his head. Then he glanced at Archie and bolted for the door. "Hayworth seems quite a fine lad, Kennedy," Crittenden said. "And his father is an earl?" "The Earl of Edrington." "How did you meet the famous Colonel of the 95th foot? And more importantly, how did the boy come under your tutelage?" "Years ago, gentlemen," Archie said, getting a far-off look in his azure eye. "Muzillac, where Captain Hornblower was nearly killed by the Republicans. Then, a quarter hour later, we were all trapped on the beach by their forces. If Indefatigable hadn't chanced to fire a well placed broadside, we'd all be buried in French soil." "And the boy?" "His Lordship's second son. The eldest, Ross, is already the captain of his father's light company." Crittenden shook his head and smiled, "Your lad looks like a clergyman." Kennedy returned the smile and said, "I suppose the rule noblesse oblige applies. One to the army and one to the church." "Archie," Jonathan sputtered, nearly choking on a sip of tea. "That young man will never become a parson. Not with his natural appetites." I quite agree," Kennedy said, patting his friend's back. "Clive has been studying at Cambridge. Mathematics, astronomy, botany, I think, are his favourites." Crittenden clapped his hands and exclaimed, "A natural philosopher!" "Exactly." Stated Kennedy. "And when we planned our voyage of discovery, it was only natural that Clive travel with us since his father has purchased our letter of marque." HiH A light rap on the door. "Mr. Grayson?" Clive called softly. "Are you awake?" "Go 'way, yer meddlin' son u' a hoor!" Tom called out. Ned made a grab for his friend and pinned his arms. "Don't talk like that, do you hear?" The door opened and Clive stood tall at the threshold, as slender and deadly as a rapier. "Mr. Grayson? Are you prepared to answer for your boy?" "Na' oo's callin' oo er boy?" Tom responded, pulling away from Ned and kneeling up on the bed, nearly climbing over companion. Ned wrestled him down again, this time pinning him to the mattress. "Friends. We must be friends, do you hear?" Ned hissed into Tom's face. Without looking back, he added, "Clive, he's still not himself." "Do you apologise then?" "Of course, sir. Whatever may be required." Whispered words and a hard shake. Then Tom relaxed and slowly rose, sitting up next to Ned and glaring all the while at Clive who did his best to glare back daggers. In the relative calm, Ned got up and rummaged through his sea chest where he found two clean shirts. He was about to pull the shirt over his head when Clive tapped the pitcher against the wash basin. "Best wash up, gentlemen," he said. "Mr. Riley's invitation to breakfast was sent to civilised men." "Wha' are yer saying noow?" Tom exclaimed. "Only reminding me of my duty, Tom," Ned replied. Clive poured the water and lathered a wash cloth. He handed it to Ned who washed quickly, unashamed of nakedness before his peers. Clive handed him a fresh damp cloth and Ned wiped off the soap. Clive tossed him a towel. After his friend was in his shirt, Clive commented dryly, "You need a shave, sir." Ned glanced up rubbing his chin. "My kit's upstairs." "Wash him, if you please, and I'll fetch it." Ten minutes later, three young gentlemen presented themselves to their officers. After wolfing down eggs, ham and crumpets, Clive touched Archie's shoulder. "Sir," Clive said. "On our voyage, I will need a fetch and carry man for my scientific endeavours. One who knows something of the sea and one who may act as servant for the rest of the midshipmen. I would like to propose Mr. Tom Tyler, sir. He is in agreement." All three young men gazed hopefully at Archie who was immediately taken aback at their neat arrangement. What they proposed was sound logic. Yet, Archie had a nagging feeling he was about to set the Krakken free aboard Horatio's ship. Kennedy swallowed and took a deep breath. Time to think. Then he said, "I will discuss it with the boy's father. Agreed?" HiH   "NO!" Both Ned's and Tom's voice shouted in unison. They looked at each other guiltily. It was Tom who explained. "Sir, me father forbade me to come back up here. I'd been sneakin' out some nights; staying out, yer see. I was here, that's all, but he thought I was tom cattin' around yer see." The boy nervously licked his lips and wiped his hands onto his breeches. "I told him I'd been staying up here, just looking at some of Mr. Riley's books and such, but that made him even angrier." Tom seemed to sink into his chair, his shoulders hunched. "He said things, things about Mr. Riley and Ned, things that were...terrible Sir. Jerusha heard it and tried to intervene, but he'd hear none of it. He told her that's why he let her come keep house for Mr. Riley because she was safe here cause Mr. Riley was a s-s-s-sodomite." The word hung in the room, ugly and hurtful. Jonathan rubbed one hand across his eyes and bent his head. "Did he say how he had come by this information Tom?" Peter Crittenden asked gently. Tom shook his head. "Not really, but he mentioned Mrs Sharpels and something she had said to the parson on her death bed, only the girl that does for him said she heard it all and....I told him it was just gossip, but he'd have none of it. He took to me with the razor strop. That's why I had to come and see Ned last night. I had to tell him." "I knew your father didn't want you coming here, but you never said why Tom?" Ned challenged. "That's why I needed to talk to you last night. It was yesterday when he beat me!" Tom declared, his voice rising again. "Well why didn't you say something last night?" Ned asked, his hands were beginning to shake and he clenched the table to steady them. "Well when I got hauled in the window and had liquor poured down me throat, there seemed to be enough other troubles to worry about. Besides how could I say those things to you...after what we'd done?" Tom put his head in his hands. "If my father knew half of what I'd done up here with you..." "And just what have you done Tom Tyler?" Jerusha Tyler paused in the doorway, a fresh pot of tea in her hands? "And what are you doing sitting down to breakfast with these gentlemen as if you belong here?" "Jerusha, please, there has been a misunderstanding." Jonathan began, rising from his seat. "Aye Mr. Riley, Sir?" Jerusha stood her ground, face in a frown. "Perhaps you could explain it all to me then." "Tom wants to go to sea!" Ned blurted out. "Lieutenant Kennedy has been generous enough to offer him a place aboard ship as a servant...and....what Tom has been doing...well...I have been teaching him to read and write!" Jerusha took a deep breath and looked at her brother. "It's the truth, Jerusha." Tom said meekly. "Well, I'm glad someone has finally bothered to do it." She exclaimed as she set the teapot on the table. "It was a shame that our father never bothered with you, his last born, like he did with the rest of us." She wrung her apron and glanced around the table. "He never took to Tom, yer see; blamed him for our mother's death. It's a wonder poor wee Tom made it through the first weeks of his life. He grew up wild and uncared for, roaming the shores. I'd do for him when I could, but I was working up here for your Mother, Mr. Riley, God rest her soul, so I couldn't be minding the lad too." "So do you think your father would let Tom join my ship?" Archie spoke for the first time. "I think he'd curse you and call you an abomination for he has not the time for seamen and sailors, be they Officers or Gentlemen!" Archie blinked at Jerusha's words and sat back in his chair, suddenly at a loss for what to do. "I think the best thing would be to just take Tom with yer without a word to our father. He'll hardly trouble himself after a week. Then in time Tom could WRITE to him, tell him where he is and what he has learned. That might appease him a little." "It's hardly the honest thing to do Jerusha, what do you think Archie?" Jonathan asked, a frown still creasing his forehead. Three sets of pleading eyes, Ned's Tom's and Clive's turned towards Archie awaiting his decision. JJ   "I am here to impress sailors," Archie said with a nod to Jerusha. "If your father has a problem with the Royal Navy's policies, he can write to the Admiralty." "What a clever chap you are, Kennedy!" Crittenden exclaimed, slapping his fellow officer's back. "I should have thought to press him myself." Jonathan's elbow jammed into his Captain's ribs and a knowing glance passed between them followed by sly smiles. "Jerusha?" Kennedy said mildly, addressing the serving girl. "You would do me a great service if you could fetch some of your brother's things up here to the house. Can you do that without danger?" "I think so, sir," the fine lass said captivated by Archie's smile and soft gaze. "Right away, sir." "No haste is necessary," Archie said, holding up his hand. "Finish your duties here for your master, and then see to it. I will write up the proper documents. We must finish our business with the brewers and the bakers today. Tomorrow, unless I find more good seamen in this town, we bid our host good day. Captain Hornblower will be overjoyed, no doubt, to see his newest crewmen. He'd be happier with ten more." Jonathan looked a little surprised and then disappointed when Archie spoke of leaving. He whispered a few words to Ned and the boy stood up. "By your leave, Lieutenant Kennedy," Ned said formally, "I'll bring round the carriage and drive you to the brewers." "Thank you, Grayson," Archie replied, smiling brightly at the lad and glancing at Jonathan, awarding him with the pleasure of his approval at the training he'd given the youngster. Then, Archie addressed Clive, "Do me the kindness Hayworth of assisting Grayson. You know a lot about horses, don't you?" "Aye, sir! I do," Clive answered proudly. "May we also have Tyler's company? Seems as though we should accustom him to obeying orders before he meets our Captain Hornblower." Archie thought a moment and then replied, "He is in your charge then, Hayworth. I trust he will be properly instructed according to his age and station. I've never known you to bully anyone." "I detest a bully, sir," Clive answered. "I've fought a few too." "Please, Hayworth, you need not prove yourself to me. Curb your high spirits all three of you and save yourselves for your duties," Archie said, wondering when he'd slipped from youth to age, sounding more each day like Lieutenant Bracegirdle. "Aye, sir," three young voices piped and then departed noisily out of the house. Archie looked over at Crittenden and then at Jonathan. "What have I unleashed upon my dear Captain Hornblower?" Archie asked his friends. HiH   "Trouble, without a doubt!" Peter said leaning back in his chair and stretching. "As I keep telling Jonathan, Ned Grayson is like a ship without a compass at times. He needs direction. Lord knows we have both tried." He sidled a look at Jonathan. "Each in our own way of course. But neither of us has made much of an impression, I fear." "Well perhaps young Tom has, although I admit I fail to see just what Ned sees in him. He's hardly a comely lad." Jonathan's words were accurate. Tom Tyler was a scruffy unkempt lad, far shorter than either Ned or Clive. He was thin and reedy and looked to be in need of a good feed and a bath. His dull brown hair needed trimming and his clothes hung loosely on his frame, clearly hand-me-downs from an older brother. But for all that, there was honesty in his brown eyes that could not be denied. He was not slow but hungered for knowledge, a fact that Jonathan had observed on many occasions as he had pawed over the books in Jonathan's parlour captivated by Ned's reading. Archie smiled to himself, remembering another young man who many years ago had captured his heart in a most unexpected way. "Perhaps it's his innocence Jonathan? Perhaps that is what Ned values so highly." Their eyes met as they both remembered times long past. "Peter, would you give us a moment please?" Jonathan asked suddenly, his eyes never leaving Archie's. "Yes, of course. I too must make plans to return to Portsmouth. A Captain's work is never done." "Peter I did not mean..." "Hush Jonathan, I know exactly what you meant. I know you too well. That is why we are friends." Peter stood and walked to the door. "I'll see you later Archie." When they were alone again Archie raised his eyebrows in question. "Archie, I was hoping...I mean...before you leave I did so want to..." Jonathan ran his hand through his red curls, a strangely juvenile gesture. "Archie please stay one more night. You see last night I had hoped that you and I could...for old times sake. You spoke of it years ago, that when we would meet again we would..." Jonathan held his breath, afraid to say the words. "Be lovers again. I know you are married now, but perhaps you still hold a measure of affection for me? I know I still love you Archie." Archie looked at the blues eyes beseeching him, the soft red lips, the fair skin and golden red hair and was transported back to the Mistral and a time when he had given in to temptation despite his better judgement. Jonathan Riley was a hard man to refuse. "But what about Peter?" Strange he should think of Crittenden ahead of his own wife. "Peter understands. We are friends first and foremost. What happened last night between us will take time to...feel right. We need time to think it through and to come to terms with it. I think Peter will return to the Wasp today. She is being refitted in Portsmouth Harbour too." Peter leaned over the table and took Archie's hand, his fingers gently stoking Archie's palm. "What say you Archie? One more night, like you promised me all those years ago?" JJ   Archie sighed and looked deeply into the eyes of his friend. He said, "You know I keep my promises. Yet, are you sure you want our night to be tonight? With three young gentlemen in the house?" Jonathan paused and looked down. He murmured softly, "Will you stay at least and keep me company? I'm so low. I admit it's the loss of the youngster." "You don't need to beg, Jonathan. I'll stay. We'll take the Captain's quarters and the young men can have your old room tonight. They need to learn to share cramped quarters." The twinkle returned to Jonathan's eyes. He said, "I don't envy you, Archie. They'll be a handful aboard ship. Although, Clive seems the steady one. I'm sure he'll be the good influence the other two need." "He's a good lad, but he's still adventurous. Always trying to match the exploits of his older brother." Jonathan smiled and said, "And the Earl himself sets a fine example for his sons. I read in the Gazette that he managed another victory in France." Archie nodded and said, "Edrington is well-loved by his troops. They'd win against any odds for him. He's well liked in Horse Guards too. They've offered to make him a general and he declined. He is not fond of sitting his horse on a hilltop, he told them." "So you fear Clive is of the same mind?" Jonathan asked. "I know Clive," Archie answered. "He's eager to make earthshaking discoveries. I think if he spotted a new kind of bear, he'd wrestle it down just to measure its claws." "Hah!" laughed Jonathan. "You will have your hands full and so will Captain Hornblower." "I agree," Archie said, his eyes soft and suddenly dreamy. A loud racket in the driveway caught their attention. The clatter of a pretty little dogcart pulled by an old pony. "Your carriage awaits, sir!" Clive called, trying not to laugh, the other two young men hiding their mouths behind their hands. Archie stood up, adjusted his uniform jacket, and offered his arm to Jonathan. They walked out of Rose Cottage together, prepared to do their duty to King and Country. HiH   The three young men watched as Archie and Jonathan headed towards the centre of the town, each deep in their own thoughts. "We'd best not stay out here too long," Ned declared. "We don't want Tom to be found by his father. Let's go back inside. I'm sure we can think so something to pass the time." Ned grinned and winked at Clive and Tom. In the hallway they were stopped by the small but imposing figure of Peter Crittenden. "Ah, just the lads I was hoping to find!" He looked them up and down quickly before he began giving orders. "You there, Hayworth, you will need to get this lad cleaned up somewhat." Peter indicated towards Tom Tyler who shuffled under the piercing green eyes. "There is a small scullery off the kitchen where you will find a hip bath. Have Jerusha help you fill it then see that Tyler here is washed and made presentable. I am sure Lieutenant Kennedy will be thankful!" "I'll do it Sir!" Ned interrupted earning himself a frown from Crittenden. "I have another task for you Mr Grayson, since you are still under my command! Come help me pack, for I must return to Portsmouth today." He frowned at the young men who stood blinking. "Hop to it then, that's an order!" Clive grabbed Tom's elbow and half dragged him through the kitchen door. Their raised voices could be heard in the hallway. "They will be fine, don't worry Mr Grayson. Now come with me. We need to have a long talk." Peter led Ned up the stairs and into the main bedroom on the first floor. Ned grimaced when he saw the roses that screamed at him from almost every surface. It really was an ugly room. "Sit down. There are some things I have a mind to say to you." Peter began. He walked to the small window and perched his hip on the sill. "You have come a long way since we first sailed together, back aboard the Nightingale. That's why I did not think twice about offering you a place aboard the Wasp. You have the makings of a fine Officer Ned. You have overcome many obstacle and fears and I know this has not been easy for you." Peter stopped, gauging the reaction to his words. Ned still stood in the centre of the room looking uncomfortable. "Thank you Sir, but a lot of the credit must go to Jona...Mr Riley. He has helped me considerably." "Ah yes, Jonathan! He HAS done much for you, hasn't he." Peter paused and licked his lips. "I hope that you have told him how you feel Mr Grayson, for when you leave here, you may not have the chance again. You are embarking on a long voyage and who can say what the winds of fate hold in store for either yourself OR Mr Riley." Peter moved across the room until he was standing in front of Ned. He was forced to look up into the clear blue eyes, a situation many men would have avoided. But Peter had long ago come to accept his small stature and was not intimidated by those who looked down at him. "It is hard to live with regrets Mr Grayson, very hard indeed. I hope that you never experience the pain that comes with wishing for the rest of your life that you had done something when you had the chance." "I don't know what you are meaning Sir, I have no regrets." Ned defended, taking a minuscule step backwards. "Jonathan does! For all the time he has taken with you, for all the care he has given to you, he will still regret that he has not done enough. For the past four years he has been labouring under the misapprehension that he is the one responsible for what happened to you aboard the Indy. He has spent those four years trying to atone for it and feeling that he has failed." "But that's... I never blamed, I never expected him..." "Ned, Jonathan loves you! When you leave he is still going to feel that guilt and regret unless YOU do something to make him see that he need not! Do you understand?" Ned opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, swallowed and stared at Peter. He had never heard his Captain be so direct. "I think so, but what should I do?" Peter's words had touched something deep inside Ned. Despite how hard he had tried to deny his feelings, he knew that he did feel something for Jonathan. Gratefulness was only the beginning. "That is for you to decide Ned," Peter said softly. "But talking to him would be a good place to start. Have you ever really told him how much you appreciate what he has done? Have you ever told him that he need not blame himself? Or have you hurt him and punished him because you wanted to hurt and punish the men who raped you. Hurt him because you know he loved Jack Kerrison?" Peter watched as a myriad of emotions flashed through Ned eyes. "Jonathan has been hurt enough! Don't leave here knowing that he still carries the burden of misplaced guilt. Set it to rights now before you go. It's only then Ned, that you will truly be free of what haunts you." They stood staring at each other for several minutes, a muffled sob from Ned the only sound to break the silence. "Pack my things, now, Mr Grayson. Then go and see if you can find me a carriage. I don't relish the walk to Portsmouth in this weather." "Aye, Sir and..." Ned hesitated and wiped at his eyes. "Thank you Sir." Ned patted the strong shoulder in a friendly gesture. "I'd best go see what those other too are up to down in the scullery. Let us hope they haven't drown each other yet." JJ   The Bath (Coming Clean) In the scullery, Jerusha heated the boys some water and then left them in private. After she'd gone, Clive began to coax Tom out of his clothing. Finally Tom admitted that he'd be happier undressing alone. Then he put up a great fuss about how he'd dress after the bath. He had no other clothing, he whined. Clive raised his eyebrow and wrinkled his forehead in the exact same way his father always did. Then he adjusted his glasses and with a loud sigh said, "I'll run upstairs and get you some of my clothes. We can fix the fit later. Will that do?" "I suppose it will have to," Tom agreed sullenly. "Captain Crittenden doesn't appear to be the sort of man you disobey." "Don't disobey any captain," Clive said seriously. "They can turn you before the mast. It's far worse than a caning." Tom pulled off his shirt. Clive thought he saw faint marks on the boy's back. Then Tom asked, "Have you been caned?" Clive laughed and replied, "Oh my yes! At school, for pranks." The younger lad looked up at him as if he didn't quite believe him. Tom queried, "Never at home?" Clive blinked his large owlish eyes and adjusted his glasses. He answered, "Depends which home you mean." Exasperated, Tom shot back, "How many homes do you have?" "Four, I think," Clive said, scratching his head. "There's Edring Hall our family's country house in Berkshire. Then there's Milford, Grandmother's estate on the other side of the lake. My father keeps a house in London near Horse Guards, and Mother rents a lodge on a beautiful fjord in Norway where we usually spend the summer." "And now you're here, in a little kitchen with a beggar boy," Tom whispered. "I'm here doing my duty. And you will follow orders too. Get undressed. I'll get you something to wear. Is that clear?" "Aye, aye, Mr. Hayworth!" Tom replied with a sneer. Turning on his heel, Clive sprinted upstairs and when he returned, Tom was in the milky water completely lathered in strong lye soap. Clive laid the clothes over a chair and took the brush to Tom's back. After a moment, Tom seemed to enjoy the attention. Yet, his somewhat irritating queries began again. Tom started his questions with, "I suppose you've never been someone's servant before now." "I've bathed my little sister. So don't think I won't check behind your ears!" Clive retorted. "And of course we bathed together at school." In a softer tone, Tom asked, "Did you like school?" Clive warmed immediately and replied, "Very much. I had some good friends." "Didn't you miss your family?" Tom whispered. "Of course," Clive admitted with a grin. "My brother Ross in particular. When he joined our father's regiment, I was desolate." "Why the Navy then?" Tom asked looking him in the eye. Clive gazed back, his honest face unable to disguise the reason he was not on a battlefield in France. He answered, "Because Mother thinks I'll have more opportunity to be a natural philosopher. And I won't be so easily killed." "It must be grand to have such parents." "It 'tis." The sound of footsteps. Captain Crittenden was standing by the doorway. HiH   Peter Crittenden peered at the two startled faces and let go a sigh of relief. At least they appeared to be keeping out of trouble. "Wash that hair too, and look out for lice! I can't abide lice and I am sure Captain Hornblower is the same!" Clive took a startled step backwards as if the thought of such pests had never occurred to him. Tom merely scratched at his scalp and dipped his head into the water. When he surfaced Peter addressed him. "Tyler I think it would be prudent if you came with me to Portsmouth this afternoon. If your father should decide to come looking for you this is the first place he will search. I am sure that you wouldn't want to put Mr Riley in a difficult position, now would?" "Yer want me to come to Portsmouth with you?" Tom looked horrified by the idea. "Yes, you could stay aboard the Wasp until Mr Kennedy arrives in a day or so." Tom Tyler narrowed his eyes in distrust. "Yer not going to press me are yer? I heard what yer said earlier! I'm not like that yer know! I'll scream if yer try that with me!" "What?" Peter blinked in surprise. "Good God boy, where do you get such ideas from?" "From Ned! He told me all about you, he did...he said they called yer Mr C on yer last ship and that it stood for.." "That's quite enough! The only thing I'll be giving you is a flogging if you keep up that insolence." Peter's face was red with anger, or perhaps it was embarrassment. "Finish up here and be ready to leave when I speak to Mr Kennedy and Mr Riley." Clive watched the young Captain leave the scullery, slightly mystified by what had just taken place. Tom caught his puzzled expression and explained. "He's a molly that one. That's what Ned said." Clive tried to stop the grin that slowly spread across his face. "Really? So what does that make you and Ned then?" Clive didn't see the naked figure that sprung from the tub and launched itself at him. Tom was as fast as a cat! He grappled Clive and dragged him to the floor, up ending the hip bath in the process. "Yer got a dirty mouth! Yer think yer so high and mighty!" A stool was knocked over and the bath kicked against the wall as the two boys fought amid the soapy water. Meanwhile in Town: "Well that was a successful morning Jonathan." Archie explained as he sipped at his ale. They were seated at the Black Dog, a popular inn in the centre of Havant. "I hope Captain Hornblower will be pleased, Archie." Jonathan looked at his friend wistfully. "I'm sure he will Jonathan," Archie replied taking another sip large mouthful of his ale. "Tell me Archie, if I may be so bold as to ask you a personal question," Jonathan dropped his voice and his eyes. "Are you and Mr Hornblower still lovers?" JJ Archie smiled. The corners of his sparkling blue eyes crinkled. He said, "Horatio and I have always shared a great fondness. We've been with others. Yet we're rarely apart long. I think it is the everlasting quality of our friendship. Yet, we never speak of it. And what I admit to you must remain in strict confidence. Please understand." "Of course, I understand, Archie," Jonathan said lowering his gaze, his cheeks growing pinker and his hands fluttering with his napkin. Quieting his companion's hand, Archie said softly, "Let's drive up to the hilltop copse. I found Clive and your young Ned up there. It's the local haunt. Am I right?" "It commands a fine view of the harbour. And no one can approach by stealth." "Sounds perfect." There on the hilltop, the pony grazed on the fine grass. The cart was left parked just off the path. Jonathan too, grazed upon the fine figure of his old friend Archie Kennedy who toyed with the soft red ringlets of the other man's hair. They did not need to speak. They kissed and fondled familiar features admiring the maturing frames while remembering the slenderness of youth. Languidly, they enjoyed their pleasures gazing up into the tall pines, recalling the masts of the little ship they'd sailed together. They laughed and kissed. Then Jonathan sighed and went oddly quiet. Suddenly he broke down into inconsolable sobs. He confessed his love for Jack Kerrison. How they'd been lovers at Rose Cottage. Then, like an unforeseen torrent, all the horrible events of the mutiny tumbled out of Jonathan's mouth. He confessed that he could not rid himself of the image of his lover hanging from the yard. He could not forgive himself for living past that awful day. He had even failed at undoing the damage done to young Neddy. The poor boy had suffered grievously while a prisoner of the mutineers. Worse yet, at the trial, he had not been given the least satisfaction. His wounds still festered deeply, Jonathan feared. Archie nodded, knowing not to contradict. He told Jonathan that he remembered the mate, recalling his fine hand with charts and his attention to duty. Archie reassured him that Ned's wounds would heal with time. All wounds did heal, even the more horrible. At that point, Archie gathered the younger man into his arms and listened patiently to his weeping, his own eyes brimming with tears of sympathy. He reefed sails and waited for the eye of the storm to pass. Jonathan clung to his friend. Slow minutes ticked by unmarked by clock chime or ship's bell. Finally, Jonathan choked on his tears and coughed loudly. After he cleared his throat and wiped his nose, he kissed Archie with unbelievable ferocity. HiH   "Jonathan do you think this is wise?" Archie managed to say between kisses. Jonathan's hands seemed to be everywhere, slipping into his clothes, threatening to storm his hard pressed defences. "Yes, this is what I want, what I need Archie!" "NO!" The startled exclamation caused both men to jump apart. Ned Grayson, unseen until now, stood there white faced, eyes bewildered. "You wanted ME! I know you did! How could you do this?" "Neddy, I ...I...You told me that..." Jonathan stuttered as he hastily pulled his clothes to rights. Archie stayed silent, sensing that this was something that had to be worked out between the two younger men. "Was it all a lie Jonathan? Didn't you care about me at all? All the things you said, all the things you did? Were they just hollow gestures?" "Ned, NO! You know that isn't true and you have no right to be jealous!" Angry now, Jonathan got to his feet. "It was YOU who pushed me away. You told me in no uncertain terms that there could never be anything more between us. What did you think I would do? Wait around, crying like some lovelorn maiden, hoping you would change your mind?" The look in Ned's eyes told Jonathan he had guessed rightly. Poor Neddy, he really didn't know what he wanted. "Neddy-Love..." Jonathan reached out towards the young midshipman, but Ned turned and ran away towards the harbour cliffs. "Go after him Jonathan." Archie said walking towards the cart. "You must sort this out between you both before you part. Ned will be no use to Captain Hornblower if he is pining for you." He smiled compassionately at Jonathan. "Take your time, I'll go back to the house and appraise Captain Crittenden of the situation. Good luck." I'll need it, Jonathan thought as he threaded his way out of the grove onto the grassy windswept cliffs that overlooked the eastern edge of Langstone Harbour. Ned was seated on a tussock overlooking the sea just as Jonathan knew he would be. They had been here before. It was on this very spot that they had first kissed. Later as they lay in the long grass in the pale wintry sun, their bodies close together, their clothes discarded and Jonathan had lifted the veil on one of the many ways to pleasure. It had not worried Jonathan at the time that Ned had declined to reciprocate, he'd been happy to walk back to Rose Cottage with the taste of Ned still in his mouth, thinking of what might await them that night. That evening they had kissed and fondled each other on the settee before the fire but when Jonathan had suggested they move upstairs to his room, Ned had declined again, refusing to share Jonathan's bed. So he'd given in, declaring that here was just as comfortable and lavished his attentions on Ned, thinking that perhaps afterwards Ned would change his mind. Afterwards as Ned lay sated once more on the carpet before the dying embers, Jonathan had reached for Ned's hand and guided it towards his own unsatisfied erection. But Ned had pulled away and went in search of his clothes leaving Jonathan confused and more than a little frustrated. "I have needs too Neddy." The words sounded pathetic to Jonathan's ears and he cursed himself for being a fool, for begging for what by now Ned should have freely offered. He was unprepared for Ned's response. The younger man had rounded on him, blue eyes alight with a vicious gleam, saying that he could never forget that Jonathan had defended Kerrison. One long slender finger pointed in accusation at the faded tattoo that still adorned Jonathan's rump. "It's disgusting!" Now Jonathan looked at the hunched shoulders and the shaking frame of Ned Grayson and knew that Ned's troubles lay within, rather than without. It was this inability to leave the past behind that weighed like an anchor around Ned's neck preventing him from moving forward. Perhaps it was time to cut it loose? JJ   In the Scullery: Both lads slid along the floor in an ever-widening pool of bath water. Throwing his long leg over the younger boy's legs, Clive applied a wrestling hold famous in the Greek school. Unfortunately, his grip failed to imprison the boy for more than a moment. Tom was as slippery as an eel and as wiggly. In his wild frenzy to escape, Tom managed to bring his knee up into Clive's groin. Dizzy with pain and sudden vertigo, the young aristocrat curled into a ball to protect himself. Savagely, Tom pressed his advantage and slammed his opponent's head against the floor. Then Tom repeatedly pummelled Clive where he lay unresisting on the floor, blood mixing with the bath water. At the sound of the scuffle, Captain Crittenden ran back to the scullery, slamming the door behind him as he entered and grabbing Tom by his hair. "What in Heaven's name are you thinking, boy?" he shouted. "Do you want to hang?" Tom turned his fury upon his newest adversary and swung a fist at the captain who shook the boy like a terrier shakes a rat, until his teeth rattled in his head. When Tom went limp, he was flung onto the floor a few feet from the taller, unmoving midshipman. Captain Crittenden knelt down and touched the side of Clive's neck. He sighed in relief. Then the captain turned and glared at Tom who scowled sullenly back at him. Tom was about to open his mouth when the captain raised his hand. Tom blinked and closed his mouth. "That's better, young man. You are showing some sense now," Crittenden said, controlling his emotions. Tom watched as the captain rolled Clive over and got him to sit up. With an elegant gesture of loving kindness, he brushed back the fine blond hair and wiped Clive's mouth with a delicately embroidered linen handkerchief. Clive opened his eyes and winced as he submitted his body to an inspection for additional injuries. "Please report who started this attack, Mr. Hayworth," Captain Crittenden said calmly. "I plan to punish the guilty party." "I suppose I started it then, sir," Clive said, apologetically, his eyes downcast, only glancing furtively at the captain and Tom. "Why is it then that I don't quite believe you, Mr. Hayworth?" Crittenden said gently. "I don't know, sir," Clive answered blinking his large blue eyes, trying to focus on the captain's face so near his own. "Then I believe, Hayworth, that I must give you over to Mr. Kennedy who will see to your punishment. As for young Tyler here, he attempted to hit me. He will soon be very sorry he tried." Clive glanced at Tom and hissed, "Apologise, Tom. Now!" The younger boy's face was white. Clive didn't know if fear or anger caused it. Tom pressed his lips together and glared. "Please sir," Clive appealed to Captain Crittenden. "He's not yet signed. He hasn't even heard the reading of the Articles." Peter Crittenden's mouth twitched into a smile and then returned to a hard line. His green eyes glittered like icy northern waves. He drew in a great breath and exhaled it in a might gust. "You are saying that this man does not know the punishment for striking a superior officer?" "He was not thinking, sir." Then Clive looked again at Tom. "Please, Tom. Say you're sorry." HiH   For want of anything better to do, Tom picked up Clive's spectacles and fingered the bent frames. His lip began to wobble. "I'm sorry," he muttered, refusing to look at up. Peter pursed his lips as he studied the two young men on the floor in front of him. His gaze was drawn to the naked flesh of Tom's back and shoulders, the slight curve of his hip and leg. Everywhere he looked on the boy was some sign of an old injury, mottled bruises faded now to yellow were the legacy of the latest. But there were others too; faint silvery scarring of thrashings given long ago and the uneven collarbone that bore testimony to at least one break. Did the boy not know any better? Was he always getting into fights? Or did these injuries tell a different tale? Peter reached a hand towards Tyler, who flinched away. The boy thrust the glasses at Clive Hayworth and looked around for his clothes. "Just let me get dressed and I'll get out of yer sights." A glance at Clive as he attempted to balance the bent spectacles on his nose confirmed that he too had noted Tom's pitiful state. "Who gave you those bruises, Tom. The old ones." "Me father!" Tom declared as he struggled to put on his wet shirt and hide the evidence. "I told yer he beat me when he knew I was coming up here at night!" "Does he beat you often?" Peter inquired, his tone softer now. "Only when I deserves it." Tom mumbled. The frightened brown eyes looked up at last. "Are yer going to hang me now, Sir?" Peter looked at Clive Hayworth again assessing the damage that Tom had inflicted. The boy deserved SOME sort of punishment but he was loathe to inflict anything of a physical nature. Clive turned his big blue eyes at Peter, imploring leniency and the young Captain melted. "No I'll not hang you this time Tyler, but let this be a lesson to you. Fighting is NOT allowed aboard ship! Do you understand? If you are caught fighting with another crew member you will be flogged. If you strike an officer, and that includes any one of the young Gentlemen aboard, you shall go before a court martial and hang. Do I make myself clear." "Yes, Sir." Tom muttered again as he pulled up his bedraggled breeches. Peter shook his head. Perhaps it was best that this young man was going with Archie Kennedy. It would only be a matter of time before Tyler ran into trouble aboard ship and Peter didn't want to be the one to order the boy's first flogging. Let Horatio Hornblower deal with THAT problem. "Now I suggest both of you make yourselves presentable once again, clean up this mess and await further orders." Peter made to leave the room, but turned back suddenly. "And if you DO come to Portsmouth with me today Tyler, I will make damned sure I hand you over to Captain Hornblower straight away!" "Excuse me please Sir?" Clive Hayworth had struggled up from the floor and stood dripping water, his hair in disarray and his spectacles sitting tiled on his nose. "There seems to be a slight problem. I have no more dry clothes and neither does Tom. You see I leant him those," he indicated the wet ones that Tom had pulled on, "Because his own were so...dirty." The blue eyes blinked and Clive's chin dropped slightly. "What should we do Sir? I remember Mr Grayson mentioning that Mr Riley has some old clothes up in a sea chest in the attic but I would not presume to search through his things?" JJ   Jonathan sat himself down beside Ned and stared out at the angry grey sea. Another storm was brewing. White caps, whipped up by the strong wind filled the usually calm harbour. Below them, waves crashed onto the jagged rocks. "What have I done Jonathan?" Ned's words were carried away by the wind that tore at their clothing and threatened to pull loose their hair. Jonathan was forced to raise his voice when he answered. "Neddy, you haven't done anything." "Yes I have," Ned sobbed. "I have lost you to Lieutenant Kennedy!" "Archie and I are old friends Ned, that's all. We have been apart for a long time and well...that's what it's like between men like ourselves. You accept love where you find it and make the most of whatever time is allowed to you. You don't waste a moment for it might never come again." "I wasted my time with you, didn't I Jonathan? And now I will never have that chance again." Bewildered by Ned's words and wary of being hurt again Jonathan spoke with caution. "Ned, I don't know what it is that you want from me. I have given you all you ever asked for, I have tried to give you what I thought you needed but...it never seems to be the right thing." "I didn't know what I wanted. I thought it was love, your love, but I realise now that what I really wanted was some sort of cruel revenge. It was so easy to hurt you Jonathan and that's what I did. I hurt you because you loved Jack Kerrison. It was the only act of retribution left to me." They sat in silence, each with their own thoughts as the wind howled around them. Memories of the past, painful and vivid danced in the air like ghosts. More recent ones, sweet but equally painful rose up, bringing with them the promise of what yet could be. Shared memories, yet each man remained locked within his own walls of hurt. It was Ned who reached out. "Is it too late Jonathan? Is there still the chance that you might yet help me put to rest what happened?" "Ned, I don't think I am the right one to do that." Jonathan's voice was weary. "You will meet someone else, someone like Tom perhaps or young Clive. I'm not the one for you." "But it has to be you Jonathan! Don't you see?" Ned implored, taking Jonathan's hand and forcing the older man to look at him. "It has to be you because you are the one who knows it all. You were there; you know what happened. You felt betrayed too, you must have, when you found out what Kerrison did?" He saw the pain in Ned's eyes and knew how much courage it had taken the young midshipman to say those things. It was never easy to look deep inside yourself and remember the hurt. "Yes, it hurt and I couldn't understand it. I didn't want to understand it. But I loved him and I told myself that I owed it to our love to at least try." Jonathan felt the tears on his own face and pressed on. "Jack told me he did it so that I would be spared. Who knows if it would have come to that...but that was what Jack was afraid of...He wanted to protect me. I am sorry Neddy. If I could undo it or somehow take your place then I would gladly go to my fate." The cold hand gripped his a little tighter, and chilled fingers came up to wipe the tears away. "Perhaps you suffered as much as I did, Jonathan?" Ned said softly. For the first time he understood that he was not the only one to be hurt by the events that took place and that Jonathan had carried a hurt of his own for these last four years. "I never realised before." "Then shall we put an end to our suffering for all time Neddy-Love? Shall we heal each other in a way that only we can?" "Oh yes, Jonathan." Ned reached out as if to start right now and Jonathan laughed. It was a light sound and it broke the tension. "Not here, Neddy. That's not what I meant. Tonight, when we will be comfortable and warm and alone." Jonathan thought briefly of what he had planned with Archie but knew that his friend would understand the change of plans. Their night together would have to wait once again. Ned blushed and smiled shyly at Jonathan. "Tonight, in your room perhaps? May I sleep there with you?" "If you'd like to Neddy," Jonathan said, desperately hoping that he was doing the right thing. "I'd like that very much," was Ned Grayson's reply. JJ   "Come with me," Captain Crittenden said. His voice sounded tired. He led the younger men to his room where he unpacked some of his own things. A fine white shirt and a pair of buff breeches fit Tom Tyler perfectly. Nothing fit Clive except a red Chinese silk dressing gown with golden dragons woven into the scintillating design. Jerusha took away Clive's clothes and promised to wash them and hang them to dry. With the fine afternoon weather she promised to return them before sunset. Peter observed the younger men as they dressed. He ground his teeth and swallowed hard as he slid the silk gown over the slender white shoulders of Mr. Hayworth. He glanced at Tyler and saw the boy watching him, suspicion all too obvious. Captain Crittenden sat down on the edge of his bed. He ordered the young men to pull up chairs and be seated too. He had some things to say to both of them. He began with some simple truths. He stated, "No man fights his mates on a man o'war. No man steals. No man shirks his duty. All this is understood, am I correct? The young men nodded. They listened attentively. "Now I will say something about personal matters and touch a little on friendships. You, Mr. Tyler, mentioned "pressing", I believe. Well, the sort of thing you meant is a grave violation of the Articles. One does not discuss such things. More over, one never implies that another man is guilty of such a crime. A man has the right to call you out. Neither of you is prepared for a duel, eh?" "No, sir," they chorused. "On board a ship, a man makes friends and enemies. Friends are better. Is that understood?" They nodded. "A man does not betray his friends, his shipmates or his Captain, no matter what." Clive's intense blue eyes, the glint off his glasses, the slightly parted lips, showed the young man's attention. The Captain went on. "Everyone has friends with whom one shares a great deal. What is shared is between those friends and not the business of anyone else, unless it interferes with the ship. Never let friendship interfere with duty. Even our best friends die. Duty remains." Tom looked deeply into Crittenden's eyes, like a wild creature contemplating whether or not to bite. Then he said, "What if a man comes on to yer?" "You are free to decline advances. Better to decline and stand aloof than to risk failing in your duty, wouldn't you say?" "Aye, sir," they chorused again. "I've 'eard, sir, that boys are forced, a'times..." "And the man responsible is hanged. Unfortunately, boys sometimes lie and that is their undoing. Better to make friends and keep good company. Obey your captain and his officers. Do your duty and you will come to no harm." "Aye, sir," Clive said. Tom Tyler was silent and wary. There was a knock on the door. Captain Crittenden's post chaise waited outside. "Are you coming along, Tom?" Crittenden asked mildly, aware of how much the boy had suffered already. "You will be safe with me. Safer than with your father." "Aye sir." "Then say your good-byes to your sister and to Mr. Hayworth. Beg his pardon for the bruises you gave him." Tom nodded and smiled at Clive who shook his hand and then closed him in his arms. "I'll see you soon, Tom." Jerusha cried and hugged her brother, calling out promises of her own. The carriage was away, the horse trotting briskly. Then suddenly it stopped. Clive saw the Captain leap from the vehicle and embrace a man who'd been walking on the road. In a puff of dust, they were gone again. Archie Kennedy walked up the path waving to them. HiH   Archie raised his eyebrows at Clive when he saw the bright red robe the boy was wearing. "It's temporary Sir, whilst my clothes dry. I...had an accident whilst Tom was bathing." Archie tried to keep a straight face at the same time wondering what The Earl would say if he saw his son in such a disguise. Probably want to try it on himself; Archie conceded with a grin. "Dear God! What is going on here Archie?" Jonathan came hurrying up the path, his face flushed. "Isn't that Peter's..." His mouth dropped open at the site of Clive Hayworth, his scraps and bruises showing vividly on his pale skin where the robe fell open. "Nothing to worry about Jonathan." Archie took charge of the situation and led Jonathan inside. "Come sit in the parlour and I will explain everything." Clive waited on the steps for Ned who held back a little. Ned's eyes were red, a clear indication he had been crying, but he put on a haughty grin as he approached Clive. One long finger came out to gently touch Clive's cut lip. "Poor Clive, whatever happened? That looks painful. Shall I kiss it better?" In the parlour. "So you see Jonathan, it is all quite innocent. And Peter asked me to say he was sorry that he had to leave. He's left you a letter upstairs in your room." Archie watched the disappointment flicker through Jonathan's eyes. "I shouldn't be surprised, I guess." Jonathan murmured. He looked up suddenly. "Archie, there is something I must ask of you and I hope you understand." He blushed slightly. "I know I asked you to...spend the night with me...but would you mind terribly if we put if off again?" It was Archie's turn to look surprised. "Of course not, Jonathan. Is this because Peter left?" "Oh no...at least...I hadn't even thought about Peter..." Jonathan blushed even deeper and stammered on. "It's Ned you see. He and I have some things that need to be...settled...before he leaves...and well...tonight...I ...that is...we..umm..well...I want...or rather he wants...Oh dear." Archie laughed gently and put his arm around Jonathan's shoulder. "You don't have to explain any further Jonathan I quite understand. I remember one wet night in Portsmouth when you were most generous in letting me off a promise, do you remember?" Jonathan nodded and smiled. "That was one of the happiest nights of my life Jonathan and I am eternally in your debt for that!" The words were meant as a compliment but they stung Jonathan all the same. "Thank you Archie, and I am sure that ONE day soon we will finally have that night together." Archie smiled, "When the time is right Jonathan, when the time is right." JJ   Clive and Ned: Clive waited on the steps for Ned who held back a little. Ned's eyes were red, a clear indication he had been crying, but he put on a haughty grin as he approached Clive. One long finger came out to gently touch Clive's cut lip. "Poor Clive, whatever happened? That looks painful. Shall I kiss it better?" JJ Clive, in no mood for more games, glared at Ned. Then he said, "I was scratched by a young Tom Cat of your acquaintance, sir. And I'll take it most kindly if you leave off kissing for a while." Ned needled back with, "Did you fight over me?" Clive looked over his shoulder. Then he answered, "You were the cause of our disagreement, but not the object." Ned growled, "What does that mean?" Clive stepped a little closer. He growled in return, "It means you had better learn to stop your gob around the foremast hands. Loose tongues about officers and captains can very easily merit a caning. You should know when to be silent. You've served on a ship." Ned faced down the tall slim young man. He was in no joking mood either. He spat, "I was well-served, sir. And I have no love for those below decks. Mutinous dogs most of them without a stern captain. Crittenden is a Molly. Everyone knows it and I won't serve aboard his ship." Clive's cheeks were growing pink. He asked, "What of yourself, Ned? What about you and Tom?" Ned sneered and said, "He's just a way to pass the time. Like you, I enjoy my pleasures now. Doesn't matter who scratches the itch." Clive drew in a great breath of air. He was shocked at Ned's vulgarity. "You sir," he stated, "are coarse and vile." "And you are the son of an earl. Since I don't have your breeding, it's my station to be vile." Clive was breathing faster. His face was flushed. Then, breaking off the combat, Ned stormed past him slamming the door of the master bedroom behind him. "Mr. Hayworth?" Mr. Kennedy called from the little parlour. "Yes, Mr. Kennedy?" Clive called back. "Clive, come here, if you please." "Aye, sir." When Clive reached the room, he had not yet brought his stirred emotions under his control. He looked very much like his father on a bad day. Kennedy asked, "Are you quite all right?" Clive sat down heavily on the edge of the hearth where Archie was building up the fire. They looked deeply at one another. Clive's eyes were moist. His breath came in ragged sobs. Archie knew the symptoms of the dread disease of life's middle passage, the teenage years when one is slave to wild emotions. Archie asked calmly, softly, "What troubles you, dear boy?" "A person of my acquaintance has put me out of sorts. I simply don't understand him. One minute he seems to want my friendship, the next instant he goads me into fighting." "You do not name him, not even to me?" "A gentleman does not. So I am told." "Your discretion is admirable. Yet I can guess of whom we speak. I will not name him out of love for you. Will that do?" "Oh thank you, sir. You have always been most astute." "And there was another young man with whom you disagreed this afternoon, was there not?" "I will be plain." "For once?" Archie said smiling broadly and moving closer to his young friend. "Ummm," Clive started and then he looked into Kennedy's attentive, cheerful face. Clive smiled and wiped his eyes. His body no longer shook with rage. Archie's arm laced around his slim waist. "They used the term, molly, sir," Clive said softly, looking down at the floor. "I found it offensive." "They used the term with regard to you?" "Oh no! With regard to others of our acquaintance," Clive said glancing at Archie. "Seniors too, sir." "That is a serious topic," Archie replied. "But not an uncommon one among midshipmen. All they seem to discuss are things sexual in nature. And I remember being a midshipman and dreaming day and night about a certain man of our mutual acquaintance. I believe when one is far from home, cold and hungry most of the time, there is comfort in a true friend's embrace." A flicker of acknowledgement passed over Clive's features. He murmured, "My father and the major." "Did you ever read of Alexander, the young Macedonian who conquered a great part of the world?" "Of course, sir." "He married several times. Yet he died of grief shortly after the death of his friend Hephestion." "You don't suppose something like that would ever happen to Father, do you?" "I was trying to make a point about mollies, Clive. They can be fierce warriors, yet tender in other ways. Most men, I think, can find love anywhere--with wives and friends. Self-examination can be painful. In agony, a young man will lash out even at his dearest friend." "Thank you, Mr. Kennedy. You have given me much to ponder." "I never tire of improving your education. I only hope that you will avoid the traps that snared me." "Sometimes I'm very lonely, sir." "Then, why don't you sleep with me tonight, Clive. It's very cold in the attic. We'll share Jonathan's old room. I think Ned's saying his farewell to Mr. Riley tonight. So we should be as snug and warm as they are. Don't you agree?" Clive blinked his eyes and a glimmer of hopeful surprise and delight flashed in his statement. "It will be like old times, except we won't have Major Mellors stealing the blankets," Archie added, as he grinned and squeezed Clive's knee in a fatherly way. Clive nodded and laid his hand upon Mr. Kennedy's. Then Archie said, "Clive, you may be confronted later by a shipmate concerning tonight." "They can think what they like," Clive said. "If they spread ugly lies, they'll answer for it." "Don't be too hard on them. But, your discretion is appreciated." HiH Jonathan followed Ned up the stairs just in time to hear the door to his bedroom slam shut. Oh dear...what now? Cautiously he opened the door to find Ned face down on the bed sobbing. "Neddy, whatever has happened?" Carefully he perched himself on the edge of the bed and reached out to stroke the pale hair. "Nothing! It doesn't matter." Ned sobbed. "Was it something Clive Hayworth said?" "Yes, no, I don't know! I simply don't know how to take him. I have tried to be friendly, but he just doesn't...understand!" Jonathan closed his eyes and sighed, certain the blame did not rest solely at Hayworth's feet. "Perhaps you should make allowances for his...inexperience Ned. He's new to ship board life and such. It might take him some time to get the feel of it." "He's got the feel of it, Jonathan." Ned rolled over and narrowed his eyes. "Don't doubt for a minute that he is the innocent he makes out. But he runs hot one minute and cold the next. AND he's a snob and a ...tease!" Jonathan raised his eyebrows at that last remark. "What do you know of his fight with Tom?" He asked deciding to change the subject. Ned shrugged. "Clive wouldn't tell me. He likes to be elusive. He implied that I had somehow figured in it, but wouldn't say any more. Knowing Tom though it was probably something to do with jealousy." Jonathan caught Ned's hand and drew it to his lips. "Neddy-Love, you will have to be careful aboard the Medusa. Things will be different. You can't afford to make enemies of your fellow Mids before you even board the ship!" Ned closed his eyes for a moment before looking at Jonathan again. "I'm worried about Tom." The words were honest, the concern was real. "I'm worried that Captain Crittenden has taken him away, I'm worried about what will happen to him while I am not there and I am worried that he simply won't fit in aboard the Medusa!" Jonathan could do little more than stare for a moment. "Then why did you go to so much trouble to take him with you?" he asked in exasperation. "What else could I do? I feel...responsible for him! Lord knows what Tom would have done if I hadn't. He probably would have run away and followed me anyway!" "Ned, Captain Crittenden will take good care of Tom and will make certain that he is safely in Captain Hornblower's hands. Hopefully Captain Hornblower will appoint one of the crew to have an eye to him until he learns the ropes." Jonathan bit his lip and paused. This next part would not be so easy. "You and he will have to be circumspect at sea Ned. You realise that don't you?" Ned nodded. "I'm not a fool Jonathan. I know the risks as well as you do." "Good, well I suggest you go and make your peace with young Hayworth then get ready for supper." Jonathan frowned slightly. "Somehow I think we missed dinner!" JJ   Downstairs: Ned entered the parlour to find Clive seated in the circle of Archie Kennedy's arms. He tried not to smirk. "Excuse me please Sir, but I wonder if I may have a word with Mr Hayworth. I would like to apologise for my unseemly behaviour earlier." Archie opened his eyes wide. Why did he doubt Ned Grayson's sincerity? There was something about that young man that he didn't like. "Very well. Mr Grayson, may I suggest a stroll in the orchard out back? I think you could both do with a little physical exercise to...calm you down and wear you out. GO!" The two midshipmen obeyed the order and were soon in a small orchard at the back of Rose cottage. It was quiet and still, protected from the wind by a huge old stone wall. "I apologise Clive, I should not have said those things. I spoke in haste but it was caused by my concern for Tom Tyler. I did not like Captain Crittenden taking him away like that." Ned let his breath go, unaware he had been holding it. "Captain Crittenden seems to be a fine Officer and a Gentleman, Mr Grayson. Lieutenant Kennedy thinks highly of him." Clive replied icily. Ned scowled slightly. "Yes, well, perhaps my jealousies have other roots. Captain Crittenden has long been a...well it doesn't really matter I suppose. I am to be away from him now anyway!" Ned looked up suddenly, his manner changing again. "Clive, there is another matter I wish to speak of. Tonight..." He paused, his face paling slightly. "Tonight I am going to stay with Mr Riley...in his room...in his bed. He and I are finally going to..." "Speak no further!" Clive interrupted, raising his hand. "I do not I want to be party to your confidences, Ned Grayson!" Ned's blue eyes shone unexpected with tears. "I had only wanted to...needed to...talk to ...someone about it. Tom is gone and I thought...you and I..." Clive bit his lip, realising he may have been hasty in his reaction. "It is not an easy thing for me to..." Ned continued, but suddenly he broke off and looked away, the walls coming back into place. When he looked back again his eyes were cold. "I will tell you this much Clive Hayworth. I am not like you. I am not afraid to go after my deepest desires, even though I have far more cause to fear them. In a short time we will both be at sea and the chance for such...intimacy...will be sadly lacking. I don't relish spending months aching for what I want and regretting that I did not enjoy such pleasures when I had the chance to do so safely and without fear." Clive's big blue eyes blinked behind his spectacles, making him look very young. "Life at sea is different Clive, you will see. You think you know it all, you think you are very smart, but the midshipman's berth isn't just another school dormitory! Seek your pleasures now or you will find out just how frustrating it can be when you have been at sea for six months!" JJ   Peter's Letter: When Ned had left the bedroom Jonathan opened the small sheet of parchment that Peter Crittenden had left on the dresser for him. My Dearest Jonathan, Please forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye but I felt it might be best under the circumstances. Whilst you and Archie were out I spoke with Ned Grayson. Forgive my presumption, but for too long I have watched him hurt you while you tried so hard to help him. I have seen you hurt too often Jonathan and could remain silent no longer. It was high time that someone made Ned see the awful truth about what he has been doing. I suggested to him that he will never leave the past behind until he makes his peace with YOU! The reasons for my actions are not entirely selfless as I know that you will never allow yourself any happiness while you still feel responsibility for and regret over Ned. It is my fondest hope that you and Ned will finally settle things between you for I know that only then will you and I be free to pursue our future together. Do whatever you need to Jonathan and I hope the process brings the both of you pleasure and happiness! I will await you aboard the Wasp. Your loving friend, Peter P.S. Had I known you were this good I would never had waited so long to seduce you. PC   The last line brought a blush to Jonathan's face and a warmth to his heart. Peter's dry sense of humour had done much to lift Jonathan's spirits over the years and it did so now, turning what might have been a painful parting into humorous reminder of the fun they had shared. It was a quality faintly reminiscent of Jack Kerrison's playful teasing; perhaps that was why Jonathan had grown to appreciate it so much? Yet beneath Peter's flippant postscript lay the very real evidence of his caring. Jonathan folded the letter and lay down on his bed. He inhaled deeply, his nose pressed to the feather pillow until he caught the faint lingering scent of Peter. For how many years had Peter loved him from afar? Love, for that was what it surely was; unselfish love too, allowing him to have this time with Ned. Trust Peter to have a hand in even that! But perhaps it wasn't really so surprising after all. Peter had a way of always watching out for him with appearing to do so. Yet Peter had not always been so generous. Jonathan remembered the bitterness and jealousy between them when they both had an eye for Archie. There was no place for jealousy in their lives now, as Peter had amply demonstrated by instigating this reconciliation with Ned. Jonathan hoped that Ned Grayson would be as understanding too. JJ   Ned and Clive in the garden: With a patient yet hard-edged voice, Clive replied, "I know that the ship will be very different from school. That's why I told you to stop talking to Tom about his superiors. We may think what we like, but we must not voice our beliefs so openly, especially not opinions of our superior officers. You may not like Captain Crittenden. Yet at the same time, you shouldn't go telling Tom he's a molly!" Clive took a breath at this point and blinked again. He looked down and scuffed the path with the toe of his shoe. He looked up again and Ned was still standing there, his mouth open, a slight frown marring his wide forehead. "Did you tell Captain Crittenden what had been said?" Ned asked. "Of course not. That's my point. I know when to be silent." "That was good of you, Clive. And I thank you. Tom is dear to me, even though I told you differently not an hour ago. I am sorry." Ned looked glancingly at Clive who studied a bird on a branch. Finally, Clive took a deep breath. He faced the other young man. In a low voice, Clive said, "I'd like to apologise too. I should have explained what the problem was." Ned sighed and stepped a little closer, moving his hand as if he wanted to shake Clive's hand. Instead, he turned it into an awkward scratching behind his back. Blushing he asked, "Shall we make a bargain to listen before we fight next time?" "Agreed," Clive answered nodding his golden head. Then Clive tilted his head and added, "I have another plan too." "Hum?" Ned murmured, curious and cautious. Clive explained, "Once aboard ship, you and Ned are bound to be in trouble if he is a foremast hand. He would not get himself, nor you, punished if he too were a midshipman. We must persuade Mr. Kennedy to beg Captain Hornblower to accept Mr. Tyler. You must teach him to read. I can teach him mathematics. What do you think?" "Mr. Kennedy seemed well-disposed toward you this evening." Clive glared. Ned widened his eyes and took a step back, feigning fright. Clive smiled a crooked little grin. "He is the kindest guardian I've ever known. I will put the idea into his head and allow him to think it through. I know he'll see we are right." "It sounds perfect to me. Now, we should be returning. Supper will be on the table and Jonathan, I mean Mr. Riley, hates to wait." "He'll be waiting for you tonight in his bedroom," Clive whispered. "I give you joy." Clive and Ned walked back to the cottage arm in arm. Archie watching, nudged Jonathan and winked. "He'll be fine, Jonathan. You've cared for him well," Archie said. Then he added, "And, Clive's a kind one. As passionate as any, but with such sweetness in his heart. I hope my own son grows to be as fine a lad." "Ned's had a frightful experience. It is my duty to help him overcome it." "I overcame my dreadful memories. Good friends and ten years will heal any wound." Jonathan looked deeply into Archie's eyes. Archie bent forward and kissed the younger man's forehead. He took Jonathan into his arms. Into the wild red hair Archie whispered, "When I first saw you, so young and green, my heart overflowed with worry. I wanted to protect you from what had happened to me. I wanted you to learn from a gentle teacher. Not from the sort I had..." "And you were the best, Archie. I'll always remember you with great fondness." "Now, you and Peter are sailing into the offing. How the world circles!" "And, you and Captain Hornblower, together again. You must be overjoyed. Archie sighed and kissed his friend again. Then he said, "I believe we always right ourselves, finding our even keel even after the worst of storms, when we have the will to do it. And so must young Grayson." "You will watch over him?" "Need you ask?" "I suppose not. I merely want to hear you say it, I suppose." "I will watch over them all. You have no need to worry." The door opened and the young men entered looking fresh and vigorous from their walk in the evening airs. Supper was laid upon the table. Fresh oysters, and champagne for starters. A rich beef and barley soup, and finally a whole roasted lamb. Fresh bread, jams and jellies, new churned butter, and delicate pickled things filled every space on the table. Clive ate with a good appetite and Ned ate sparingly. Archie and Jonathan poured only little glasses of wine. And they decided to retire early that evening since tomorrow they must conclude their affairs if they were going to meet Captain Hornblower on Sunday evening for supper at the Lamb.   HiH   Ned was already in bed when Jonathan entered the room. He quickly blew out the candle and undressed in the darkness. "Are you cold?" he asked as he slid between the sheets. "A little," Ned's voice was trembling. "We'll warm up soon enough." Jonathan whispered as he moved closer. He could feel Ned shaking and he wasn't sure the chilled sheets were responsible. "Neddy, you don't have to do this. You realise that don't you?" As Jonathan's eyes adjusted to the darkness he could just make out Ned, eyes closed, covers pulled up to his chin. "I know Peter spoke with you before he left. I don't know exactly what he said, but I hope he didn't make you think that this was...expected!" Ned turned onto his side, his blue eyes peering at Jonathan, deep and serious. "It's not because of what he said, although he did make me face up to some hard truths." Ned paused and swallowed, shivering slightly. "I'm frightened Jonathan, that's all. I'm frightened because I remember, and I know it will hurt...I tried it with Tom you see and we had to stop because I hurt him too much...it was terrible!" Jonathan sighed. "Ned, you didn't know what you were doing with Tom. It was your ignorance that caused you to hurt him, nothing more. And as for what happened on the Indy, that was an act of violence!" "One they were never punished for!" Ned whispered bitterly. "They WERE punished Ned, don't you realise?" Jonathan took a deep breath steeling himself so he could continue. "THAT was the real reason they were hung. Several of the men, including Kerrison could very easily have been granted a pardon, but the board never asked for one." "Jack Kerrison hung for his part in the mutiny." Ned said angrily. "Jack was hanged because he raped you! It took me a while to work that out, but my evidence alone would have been enough for Jack Kerrison to be pardoned. He wasn't because the board of Court Martial KNEW what he had done to you! Jack made the wrong choice Ned and he deserved to hang because of it!" It cost Jonathan dearly to say those words and he said a silent prayer that Jack would understand his betrayal. I have to set it to rights, Jack, you understand. He wondered where Jack Kerrison's soul was now, whether it too was waiting for some sort of retribution or redemption. Was he at peace? Beside him Ned shifted uneasily bringing Jonathan back to the present. "Ned, I know you are afraid but this will be different. Those bastards were TRYING to hurt you Ned. What they did had nothing to do with love!" There, he'd said it, a thing he told himself he would never do. He'd confessed his love and left himself open to Ned's cruelty once again. But Ned moved closer, his head coming to rest on Jonathan's shoulder. "Do you really love me Jonathan? I had thought all this time that you simply thought of me as a friend?" Jonathan laughed at that. He stoked the warm shoulder and rubbed his face against the soft hair. "I think I have loved you for a long time Neddy." Ned's hand moved to Jonathan leg and brushed up and down in a soft caress. "I loved you from the moment I first saw you on the Indy. I used to watch you and try to be like you. Do you remember those nights when Pip and Charlie and I used to talk about women and fool around, well I always wished that you would join us. You never did." Ned sighed "You must have thought me such a little fool back then." "Hmmm, not really. Do remember that time you put on those women's draws?" Ned nodded against his chest. "Well when I saw you there on that table, and you said...what you said...I actually wanted to take you up on your offer. I was disgusted with myself. I realised then that you weren't a little boy anymore." "I don't remember what I said? I was very drunk. I just remember the touch of your hands on me." "It's probably just as well that you don't remember." Jonathan kissed the fair head, pleased to feel Ned relaxing against him. He had no sure idea of how to proceed and suddenly wondered if he should have asked Archie for some advice. He almost laughed at the thought when he remembered that Archie had been rather clumsy himself when it came to this. Perhaps they should have pooled their knowledge and worked out some sort of a plan.... Ned was speaking again. "I used to think that you were so much older than me, but you aren't really, are you?" "No I suppose not, it's only two and a half years." And with that thought came the knowledge that Ned was far older than he himself had been the first time and was far more experienced in other aspects of loving. "You still outrank me though," Ned purred, his hands were becoming more daring. They lost themselves in kissing and touching then, Jonathan remembering the things that Ned liked and using that knowledge to drive Ned to pleasure first. It was only when the young midshipman lay panting and drowsy that Jonathan sought out the small plate of lard he had brought from the kitchen and proceeded to tell Ned what was to come. To his surprise Ned burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh Jonathan, I'm sorry, but you should have told me we needed something like that. Clive Hayworth has just the thing! A bottle of jasmine scented oil; his mother sent it along with him." Ned laughed again and Jonathan began his ministrations, not knowing what to say and more than a little nervous himself. "He said she had given it to him to use for massaging his friend's backs or some such foolery," Ned continued, his voice a little tenser. He drew a shuddering breath. "Do you think she meant for him to...use it for...this, Jonathan? Do you think that is what she had in mind?" Ned licked his lips and tried to keep from squirming away. "I don't know Neddy," Jonathan moved up slightly so he could look into the worried eyes. "Shall I keep going, or would you rather I stop?" "No, I'm all right, it's just that it would be so funny, really, don't you think? I imagine Mr Kennedy had a good laugh about it afterwards." Ned looked away suddenly and went silent. "I've heard the Earl's wife is a strange woman, but I don't think she'd send her son to sea all prepared for...ahem...this." There was an awkwardness between them now which Jonathan fought hard to dispel. "I remember Mr Kennedy procured some castor oil the first time we tried this. I was so na�ve I thought I had to drink it." "Really?" Ned looked back, faint amusement showing in his eyes. Jonathan nodded and smiled. "Yes. I really managed to make a complete fool of myself with him. Would you believe I actually bit his prick?" "You didn't?" Ned looked horrified. "Oh yes I did. It's funny now, looking back, but at the time I was deeply ashamed." Jonathan went back to work, talking softly. "It was a comedy of errors, hardly what you would call an unforgettable experience, but it was very special all the same." "I had thought..." Ned began, but shook his head as if he realised the thought was irrelevant. "However it goes, it is always special Ned, do you understand? It takes ...practice to get it just right, but that doesn't mean that it isn't enjoyable all the other times too." Jonathan sat back and offered the plate of lard to Ned. "Now it's your turn. Put some of that on me and be sure to warm it a bit in your hand first to soften it. It's as hard as ice and almost as cold." "Me?" Ned asked, eyeing the lard as one would a week old pork pie. "Yes, I've done all the work so far. It's your turn!" Jonathan grinned. He gasped as Ned's cold greasy fingers grasped him, fighting the urge to give into the gentle stroking." "Do you like that Jonathan?" Ned asked in a not so innocent voice. "You know I do," Jonathan replied positioning himself once again. He silently thanked Peter for wearing him out so much last night as he fought the urge to seek his own quick satisfaction in the warm body waiting before him. Instead he proceeded slowly and carefully, a sweet torture that left his body screaming for more. Ned was breathing hard now but not from any sort of pleasure. His eyes were gleaming and Jonathan hoped it was not from tears. "Are you all right?" he asked surprised to hear his own voice waiver. Ned nodded and licked his lips, not speaking for a moment. When he finally answered his voice was steady. "Yes, yes I am." Slowly Jonathan rocked into the warm intensity, one hand holding firmly to Ned's hip, the other gently rubbing his slim white thigh. He kept his eyes on Ned, watching for signs of distress. "Let go." Ned's words confused Jonathan and he was struck by the sudden worry that once again he would be denied pleasure. He opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by Ned's pale hand that came up to touch his chest in a gentle caress. Ned smiled. "Let yourself go Jonathan." And he did. JJ   Clive, naked in the darkness of the small bedroom, carefully folded Captain Crittenden's Chinese red silk robe and laid it on the dresser top. The fabric beneath his fingertips felt just as he imagined a lover's skin would feel. Clive closed his eyes and thought of what Ned had expressed about boldly taking chances rather than regretting a moment lost. Clive looked across the room. Mr. Kennedy was sitting on the side of the bed in only a loose night-shirt. His shining face was illuminated by the soft candle glow. He looked like a golden angel in heavenly samite, preparing to watch over the child about go to sleep in the bed. Clive sighed. He was the child and he so wanted the angel to love him. To love him as men loved one another, with kisses and touches and sweet, mounting effort, a spill of passion and deep sleep afterward. Clive felt his heart racing within his chest. His eyes grew wide as he saw Archie's head come up, his face warm with affection, his smile welcoming, his arms open. Clive shivered. He was suddenly cold with dread. "Come, lad," Archie whispered. "Don't stand there shivering. Come and get warm beside me." Clive crossed the floor, his bare feet not feeling the cold anymore. He heard Archie tell him to get into his night-shirt and hurry into bed. It was getting colder by the minute. He nodded mechanically and fought his way into his freshly washed shirt. "I much prefer the smell of a clean shirt to any other scent, Mr. Hayworth," Archie whispered in his ear after a soft kiss had been pressed to his cheek. Clive could not speak. His throat was closed with emotion. His limbs trembled. He knew in a flash that Archie had noticed his shaking. Mr. Kennedy had wrapped his arms about him and pressed him firmly to his breast. Mr. Kennedy's scent was that of musky manliness, earthy and intoxicating. Clive inhaled deeply and shivered harder, nearly gasping for breath now, his emotions running so high. "What's wrong, Clive?" Archie asked, his voice full of concern. "I... I love you, sir," Clive stammered, holding on with the tenacity of youth and strong passion. "I know it. Now, calm yourself, my boy. I'm here. You are safe," Archie said soothingly, as he enfolded him kissing his cheek, while his hands rubbed the lad's back and smoothed his golden tresses. "Please understand me, sir," Clive whispered desperately. "I... I beg you to love me." Archie Kennedy froze in mid stroke. Clive felt the change and terror seized him. He imagined being flung from the bed, then being sent upstairs alone. A groan escaped him, the sound of pure anguish, of regret. Then Clive felt Archie's hand continue the stroke down his head, around his ear and along his jaw until the fingers held the point of his chin and Archie's thumb stroked his trembling lower lip. "If only I were free to do so, I would take you trice," Archie admitted with a tender smile and kind, bright eyes. "Yet, I may not. You are a treasure that I keep safe for another. I cannot betray my friend. Not a man like your father." Clive breathed again. He sank into the warmth of Archie's arms, inhaling the comforting fragrance of him, feeling his breath upon his neck and the tickling of it in his ear. Then, turning a little, just enough to again catch the glint of Archie's eyes in the candlelight, Clive asked, "When did you and Father...?" "When did we become lovers?" Archie said. Clive nodded, bumping his forehead lightly against the older man's chest. "We met during the disaster of Muzillac. Then, when you were about five or six, as I recall, Captain Pellew and I travelled to Edring Hall with Horatio and your family. Do you remember?" "Yes, you protected us children when the bandits attacked us." "Well, some days later, our friend Mellors, a sergeant then, helped me through a very distressing event. Your dear father and Captain Horatio had devised a way to exorcise a demon that had plagued me since I was a young midshipman about your age now. Your father, Captain Horatio and Mr. Mellors preserved my life, you see. Then, after my treatment, Horatio and I sailed happily again aboard Indefatigable under the command of Captain Pellew. All that time, we remained in touch with your father. Then, Horatio and I were transferred to H.M.S. Renown, as third and fourth lieutenants. I was gravely wounded in battle and sent to hospital in Jamaica. When the news reached your father, he set Mellors in command of his regiment and Lord Edrington himself came to see me and nursed me back to health. Yet, even more than saving my wounded body, he prevented me from falling into sadness when Captain Horatio was ordered back to sea. I recall many fine evenings on Kingston's beach making love, swimming afterward and collapsing exhausted into white sands or white sheets in the arms of your dear father. Finally, when it was safe for me to travel again, he brought me home to England and I was deemed once again fit for service. In England, I learned that all the time Edrington and I'd been in Kingston, your mother had visited my mother and between them, they'd found me a bride. Now I'm soon to have an heir. So you see, lad, there is no way I can break faith with your father. I love him, and you, too dearly." "And you are not hurt that I asked?" Clive queried. "Heaven's no!" Archie answered, hugging the boy again before he yawned sleepily. "In fact, I'll give you a kiss goodnight. One that I'm sure will serve." Clive trembled as Archie's lips touched his. Archie's hands cradled the back of his head. The kiss was long and deep, leaving Clive breathless. Afterwards, all tension gone, they both slipped under the warm quilts and down into refreshing sleep. HiH   It would be very easy to lay here forever. Ned Grayson smiled and rolled over to rest against the warmth of Jonathan's back. Outside the steady beat of rain heralded a wet day. It was still dark. Jonathan's low slow breathing spoke of deep sleep. Worn out, Ned decided, for he felt much the same himself. They'd had little sleep that night. Ned closed his eyes remembering. It had been quite different to what he had imagined. It had been enjoyable, very enjoyable; especially when Jonathan had offered himself in return. But there was more to it than just the physical rush and the earthy satisfaction. There was a sense of power that went with it; a sense of being in control. For by his own submission Ned found that he had gained the upper hand. As Jonathan had looked down at him, his eyes dazed by lust and love, Ned had realised that Jonathan would deny him nothing. He had only to ask and Jonathan would obey. It was as heady as the sense of command! He had tested his theory as they lay panting side by side in the darkness. "Oh Jonathan, I do not want to leave you." Warm lips had brushed his sweaty forehead. "Then stay Neddy-Love. Don't go with Lieutenant Kennedy. I will ask Captain Crittenden to take you back aboard the Wasp. There is still time and nothing has been finalised." Ned smirked into the darkness. "But I have given my word Jonathan," he said, soundly suitably forlorn. "A Gentleman must keep his word." And so Jonathan had agreed and they had made love again frantically. Poor Jonathan, he was a slave to this for he could not untangle his heart from the rest of it. But I will not be like that, Ned vowed. Best to hide your heart and keep your head. Yes, a whole new world of possibilities had opened up to him last night and he cast his thoughts to the future and all the things that awaited him. He thought of Tom and Clive and Archie Kennedy and even the famous Captain Hornblower; possible conquests to be boarded and taken as prizes. "Neddy?" Jonathan stirred and rolled over to face him, a slow smile spreading across his sleepy face. Ned felt a pang in his heart that he tried hard to ignore. This was something else he had discovered last night. It had crept up on him unexpectedly whilst he had lain warm and sated in Jonathan arms. It had sprung from the soft whispers and touches that carried him off to sleep and kept him safe while he slept. It had found a home in his heart and each time he had woken it had grown warmer and stronger, refusing to be denied. Gently he brushed the pale red curls from Jonathan's eyes. Jonathan just lay there gazing at him with a look that said so much. "I love you," Ned said suddenly, not quite sure why except that he could no longer deny what was in his heart. It was like watching the sun rise, seeing Jonathan's face then, so full of happiness and contentment. "I love you too." The words were accompanied by the softest kiss, devoid of lust, but full of something far stronger. Tears pricked at Ned's eyes and he cursed himself silently. He had not intended this to happen. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. All thoughts of power evaporated as Jonathan gathered him into his arms again. "Don't be sad Neddy-Love. The first parting always seems worse. I know, I remember it myself." The words offered little comfort. "It's the hurting that helps us to remember how wonderful it was and makes it all the more sweeter when we find each other again." Ned cried then, really cried. He cried for all the sadness in his past; his loveless childhood, the loss of his friends Pip and Charlie. He cried for what had happened to him at the hands of the mutineers, cried for feeling so helpless and hopeless and lost. But most of all he cried because he had finally found someone who loved him only to lose that love in the same instant. He cried because he loved Jonathan and knew that Jonathan did not love him with the same fervour. "You will find someone else Ned, someone to share this with, someone else to love. It is the way of it, you understand." "And you won't mind if I do that?" Ned asked, almost wishing Jonathan would say yes; wanting him to in that moment. For if Jonathan were to ask Ned to stay faithful, he knew he would agree and hold that trust forever. "No Neddy, no one expects us to live alone all our lives. But we will always have this Neddy, I promise you. " Ned wanted to believe so he nodded and dried his eyes, but already his heart hardening itself once more against the hurting. Perhaps it was best to sail alone on the sea of life, love no one, trust no one. Seek pleasure when you could, but hide your heart away where no one could find it or hurt it. Ned closed his eyes and sought comfort in the haven of Jonathan's arms for a little longer. All too soon he'd have to face the world alone again, but not just yet. JJ   Just before Breakfast Faint sunlight crept past the curtains and teased Clive's eyes open. He raised himself up on one elbow and gazed at the calm sleeping features of the angelic guardian who lay at his side. Clive had learned long ago about Mr. Kennedy's affliction. He'd been driven to fits by an abusive older man. He had suffered cruelly and bore the scars of those early experiences. Yet, he was well and strong now. He was unusually kind to youngsters and never one to use the rattan. How Clive loved him! How he cherished his attention and his care. Gazing down in pure affection, Clive noticed a change in the breathing of his bed partner. A hand reached out for the blanket and jerked it over the exposed shoulder. Clive smiled. Then, he slipped out of bed and tucked the coverlet up around Archie's neck. The sleeping man rubbed his cheek on the pillow and sank again into the depths of oblivion. Hurrying to draw on breeches, Clive withdrew to the privy. Then he crept to the kitchen to look for Jerusha. He charmingly begged hot water and washed himself. He helped her heat more for Mr. Kennedy. She slapped his fingers when she caught him stealing a taste of bread dough. She had never seen him so playful, joyous and full of himself. Jerusha and Clive carried the hot water up to Mr. Kennedy's room. The lieutenant had risen and was sitting on the edge of the bed when they entered. He looked grateful for the hot water. His blond beard was never as noticeable as Captain Horatio's. He ran his fingers through his cornsilk hair. He smiled. His benefactors were gratified. In half an hour, Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Hayworth presented themselves at the breakfast table looking shiningly clean and well-rested. Archie had a wistful look, happily eating crumpets dripping with honey, bacon and soft boiled eggs. Clive seemed to bubble with good spirits even when silently wolfing down his food with keen appetite. In contrast, Ned seemed silent and somewhat sullen. Jonathan seemed bereft. HiH   Ned was silent at breakfast. He wondered if he looked different, if they were all surreptitiously staring at him while he sipped his tea. But Jonathan and Archie seemed to be discussing the boring details of their return to Portsmouth and Clive was sitting as silently as Ned himself, his dreamy gaze fixed firmly on Archie Kennedy, a wistful smile playing around his red lips, a sigh escaping every now and again. Ned kicked his fellow midshipman under the table, gaining Clive's attention for a moment. He nodded towards the older Lieutenant and raised his eyes brows in speculation. In reply Clive pursed his lips and returned to his starry eyed dreaming. "Go pack your things gentlemen, we must be away shortly." Archie declared. Silently he wondered what Jonathan had done to Ned Grayson last night. The lad seemed positively meek this morning. Archie bit his lip as several images rushed to mind. Knowing how carried away Jonathan could get it was possible that Ned might have befallen a nasty accident! Whatever the reasons, Archie suddenly hoped that someone would be able to reproduce them aboard the Medusa. Ned Grayson would be a lot better company with more of the same. Ned and Clive wandered upstairs, leaving the lieutenants at the table. Clive's cheerful silence finally began to grate on Ned's nerves. "So aren't you going to tell me about your night and ask me about mine?" he blurted out, once more putting on the brash front that he wore like armour. Clive blinked. "I would not be so rude. Besides the breakfast table is hardly the place to discuss such things." He raised one eyebrow and titled his head. "Of course I am always happy to listen if YOU feel the need to...discuss the occurrence...if such a thing did indeed occur." A faint blush stained Clive's cheeks and he pushed his spectacles a little higher. They entered the bedroom that Clive had shared with Archie. Ned glanced at his companion and smiled. "Why Clive, I do believe you are even more embarrassed by this than I am?" Come sit here beside me, Ned patted the bed and Clive sat down. "I will tell you what happened with Mr Riley and then YOU may tell me about your night with Mr Kennedy!" He wrapped his arm around Clive's shoulder and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "It was not at all what I was expecting. Once we got ...into it...it was rather...wonderful. And I have an even better use for your jasmine scented massage oil! I'd love to show you Clive...if you are at all curious about it. I think it would work very well. I'll be very careful, because I know what to do now. Me Riley really is a very good teacher!" Clive blinked, and looked sideways at Ned. "Show me?" he squeaked, uncharacteristically. "Yes, so that you won't be a complete novice when you finally land your hearts desire, Captain Hornblower! You don't want him to have to show you EVERYTHING do you Clive? I mean, you want him to think of you as an adult now, don't you? Not the little boy he remembers? I'd be willing to show you, as a friend of course. What do you say Clive? Tonight in Portsmouth? I'd be happy to oblige." Ned grinned when he saw the deep flush of the younger man's face. He was enjoying Clive's discomfit. "Unless, of course, Mr Kennedy saw to all that and broke you in last night?" JJ   Clive's mood darkened. He stood up and walked to the window. Ned's gaze followed him. Ned's mouth curved upward into a cruel little smile. Finally, Clive turned. "I'm not sure you understand me, Ned," Clive began, his eyes bright with moisture for the first time that Ned could recall. "I am not the sort of creature who must fawn to attain rank and privilege. I need not lick a hand to get a pat on my head." "Are you saying that I am?" "No, I'm not," Clive whispered shaking his head, his mood somber now. "I'm talking about myself and I'm speaking to a gentleman, I hope, who will not repeat a word of it." "You are," Ned said, surprising himself by his sudden conviction. "Well, I'm sure you had a most glorious night with Mr. Riley," Clive said. "Yet, mine with Mr. Kennedy was not a lesson in lover's techniques. It was love itself. He kissed me. That was all. Even so, within that kiss I drowned in sensations as inexplicable as the stars themselves. No one can teach another love." "I'm envious, Clive," Ned said quietly. "I'm desolate and envious. Mr. Riley loves me in just the way you have described and I am leaving him." "Then we must be desolate together and never envious," Clive said smiling again, despite the crystal teardrops running down his rosy cheeks. Ned nodded. And they embraced as brothers. HiH   Back at the breakfast table: "It was wonderful Archie, all I could have hoped for." Jonathan concluded with a wistful look. "But I confess, I am going to miss Ned terribly." Archie reached out and patted Jonathan's hand in comfort. Their eye's met and Jonathan turned his hand up to capture Archie's fingers in a strong grip. "Archie, we have no idea when we will meet again, you and I. We have one night left, what say you to sharing a room with me tonight in Portsmouth?" Archie blinked, surprised by Jonathan's sudden change of tack. "Jonathan, I thought you were upset over young Ned?" "Well I am, Archie, but I will miss you too!" Jonathan defended hotly. "Do you think me loose with my affections? Is that it? It was YOU who told me that we love when and where we may! Surely you remember that?" "Yes, I remember..." "Well I love you both, you and Ned. And Peter too of course!" Jonathan hastily added. This was getting confusing. "So what I am trying to say, Archie is that I have said goodbye to Neddy, and I will be sailing with Peter again before too long, so that just leaves you! What do you say Archie? Tonight in Portsmouth? I'd be happy to oblige!" Archie smiled, his eyes suddenly showing a hint of things that he usually kept hidden. He lifted Jonathan's hand to his lips and kissed the fingers before turning it over and licking the palm. Jonathan shuddered and Archie smiled. "I could never say 'no' to you Jonathan and I still can't. Tonight in Portsmouth then, I'll be looking forward to it!" JJ   After breakfast the officers and young gentlemen trooped down to the village church for the midmorning service. The organ played and the congregation stood up. Clive's clear tenor soared up to heaven accompanied by Ned's maturing baritone. Archie and Jonathan sang softly, enjoying the voices of the younger men more than their own. Half a dozen pretty maids glanced at the handsome young men. Ned stood aloof, unmoved by their blushing faces. Clive nodded and winked at them, smiling when they hid themselves behind shawls and lace scarves, dark eyes peering his way like deer in the underbrush. After the hymns, they sat down. The parson gave a sermon based upon the book of Job explaining hat life dishes up many unfortunate events. Even so, with God's help, the good man is able to endure all. Therefore, he encouraged them, live righteously and He will bear you up on eagle's wings on the Last Day. Archie looked over at Jonathan. With the parson's final words, his eyes were suddenly glistening with tears. The fingertips of his right hand stroked a bracelet woven of fine dark strands that encircled his left wrist. In a flash, Archie guessed his friend's thoughts. Kerrison still filled Jonathan's thoughts in time of quiet reflection. After the service and a few kind words to the parson, Archie said, "Ned, if you please, be so good as to introduce Mr. Hayworth to a few of the mothers of the ladies he was winking at during service. Let them know that he comes from a good family. That they need not fear for their daughters' virtue." Clive looked a bit surprised. Then he realised that it was really Ned being shuffled off on an errand. He saw Mr. Kennedy slip his arm around Mr. Riley's waist and lead him to the churchyard, toward the rows of headstones marking the graves. Ned nodded to Mr. Kennedy. After the two officers left, he snarled in Clive's ear, "Kerrison's grave is over there." Clive replied smoothly, "So is the grave of his mother. Show a little kindness if you please. The man has been reminded of great loss. With our help, he will endure." "So you try to act the role of God himself?" Ned said harshly. "Doing God's work brings one closer to God. Is that not in the Scriptures?" "I wouldn't know. I don't read the Bible. You must ask Tom. He'll tell you how the devil was beaten out of him." "Our chaplain at school was a saintly man. I'll lend you the book he wrote, and all three of us can discuss his wisdom." "There are far more amusing things for the three of us to do," Ned answered with a sly glance. "Oh, here come the maternal guardians of the blushing belles you winked at. Steel yourself, sir. Prepare to meet the charge." "For what we are about to receive, let us be truly thankful," Clive chanted. Then he explained, "It's something my brother told me the soldiers always say before the cannon balls hit the line." Ned gave Clive an statement of complete hopelessness, rolling his eyes. Then he turned to the first grand lady of the village. She was dressed in black linen. Her husband had died of the fever over winter. This spring she was the richest woman in town. "Mrs. Harlowe, allow me to present Mr. Clive Hayworth, midshipman of the Letter of Marque Medusa, under the command of Captain Horatio Hornblower, Royal Navy. Mr. Hayworth here is the son of Lord and Lady Edrington of Berkshire." "Oh my, a titled lord in our midst! Come Clarissa, don't be shy," the woman said, thrusting her pretty blond daughter up in front of her. Then she announced, "Allow me to name my daughter Clarissa. She has plenty of money, so she won't need yours, young man." "Pleased to meet both of you, ladies," Clive said smoothly. He was smiling and gracious despite the talk of money. He understood that more than one title had been purchased by a family made rich from trade. Luckily, his father had not bankrupted the family name. Neither he nor his siblings need hunt for cash when they sought a marriage partner. More women were walking briskly into line. Officiously, Ned led him down a row of mothers and eligible daughters, some meek, some saucy. Mrs. Leek and Anna, Mrs. Rowe and Laurelyn, Mrs. Spry and Susanna, and finally Mrs. Hart and Bethany. They were all pretty girls and Clive spoke kindly to them all. He declined invitations by the score, candlelit suppers and lunches on the lawn, games of cards, tennis and cricket, carriage rides and boat rides. He excused himself from all engagements. He had been ordered to his ship and he was leaving that very afternoon. On the other side of the little church, amid the silence of the graves and the shade of hedges and sheltering trees, Archie stood with Jonathan who seemed to be enduring a maelstrom of emotions whirling in his chest. He couldn't help sniffling loudly. For there was Kerrison's neatly tended grave at their feet and not far off, the earthly remains of Mrs. Riley sleeping under a blanket of flowers. HiH "Would you give me a moment Archie? A moment alone?" Jonathan asked his eyes never leaving the Kerrison's final resting place. "Oh course Jonathan." Archie looked back to where the young midshipmen were besieged by young girls and their mothers. "I shall go rescue those two before one of those matrons abducts them from right under our noses. Take your time." Archie wandered off and Jonathan sank down to sit on the hard packed earth. It was his habit to come here at times. To sit and talk. To ask the questions that he never could when Jack was alive and say the things that had plagued him ever since. He had no doubt that Jack Kerrison could hear him. Wherever he resided, whether in heaven or in hell, Jack Kerrison was still an undeniable presence in Jonathan's life, directing his actions and ultimately the source of all his guilt. It was time for it to end. Just as Ned had let go of the past now Jonathan must do the same. "I've set it to rights Jack," he whispered thinking of Ned Grayson and what they had shared last night. "It's finished now." A single tear slid down his face as he steeled himself to say the things words that would free him from the chains of his own making. "I am sorry Jack, but I told you a lie. I tried to make it true and keep my word, but I can't. I love you and that will never change, but I know now that I love another just as much and I can't deny it any longer. If you were still here with me Jack this might not have happened. But you are gone and I can't live my life alone. These past few days have shown me that. I need to love and be loved in return. I am most fortunate Jack because I have friends who are willing to give me that love if only I will accept it. And so it is time for you and I to say goodbye. I will never forget you Jack but I can't live my life on memories alone." Carefully Jonathan slid the bracelet of plaited hair from his wrist and held it to his lips in a parting kiss. He dug small depression in the hard packed soil of Kerrison's grave and placed it there. He paused a moment before covering it with the dark earth, burying it forever. "Goodbye Jack," he whispered before he turned and walked to where his friends waited. JJ   Clarissa was attempting to debate Mr. Hayworth's position concerning filial duty when Archie Kennedy approached the young people. "It is a child's duty to obey her parents. Is it not, Mr. Hayworth?" she asked. "There are times when a child must assert himself. When he must make his own wishes known to his parents." Then she turned her lovely eyes upon Ned. "What do you think, Mr. Grayson?" she asked. Ned's eyes looked startled for a moment. Then he said coldly, "I've never been able to get along with my father. As long as he's on land, I'll be happy to sail the wide sea." Returning to Clive's far more pleasant statement, Clarissa asked, "And you, Mr. Hayworth? Do you gladly leave your beautiful Edring Hall?" "I'm pleased with my shipboard companions. Yet, I will miss my home and my family." Hearing hose words, Mr. Kennedy laid a warm hand on the younger man's shoulder. "We are your family now, Mr. Hayworth. And you will not have a moment to mourn the loss of your parents' company." The look of sincere affection was plain on Clive's beaming face as he looked over his shoulder at Kennedy. Clearly he loved and respected the handsome officer of the Royal Navy. A few of the women inclined their heads to Mr. Kennedy and smiled, giving him little genteel curtsies of welcome. Ned shook his head. "No, no, ladies," Ned said apologetically. "I have the honour to name Lieutenant Archibald Kennedy, newly married and due to lead us as second in command of our expedition to the far side of the world. As he has said, we have not a moment to lose, so we must bid you good day." Archie nodded at the ladies and gave his compliments graciously to them all. He glanced from time to time to see if Jonathan had finished his own good-byes. It was not long before they saw the bowed redhead marching their way. With final regrets, Archie shepherded the younger men toward the road that would take them back to Rose Cottage. HiH   Ned was deep in thought as they trudged back to Rose Cottage. He slowed his steps and when Clive looked sideways at him he grabbed the younger man's arm holding him back. Ahead, Archie and Jonathan deep in their own conversation wandered on oblivious to them. "Wait a little Clive, I want to ask you something." Ned said softly when Clive tried to pull away. "You seem very much at home in the company of young ladies." "I have sisters; they have friends. I have always shared the company of young ladies as well as young gentlemen." Ned raised his eyebrow in speculation. Hoping to tease he ask, "So you have experience with women then, do you?" "Of course, don't you?" Ned blushed, something so uncommon that Clive couldn't resist a grin of triumphant. "I have not had the opportunity." Ned defended hotly. "I have been at sea since I was 12. The only women I've seen are the poxed whores who haunt Portsmouth. I wouldn't touch those with a boat hook!" Ned regained his composure and smiled cruelly. "Is that it Clive? You've had a few whores and you think you're a man?" "Certainly not. Common whores carry disease as well you know. My father warned me of the dangers very early and made sure I knew the alternatives." Alternatives, Ned wondered? "Well then tell me, Clive, who and where?" He was becoming exasperated. "A gentleman never tells such things, you should know that. My lips are sealed. I hold many fond memories of the ladies in question, for ladies they were, Ned, in the true sense of the word. It would be ingallant of me to sully those memories by discussing them with anyone." Ned squirmed under Clive's direct gaze. He thought of his own boasting that morning and felt embarrassed. "Well was it...good...that's all I want to know. Did it feel different...but I suppose you can't answer that either. What did they do? What did they feel like, to your hands..." Ned bit his lip suddenly, realising he had said too much. "Perhaps you should ask Mr Riley those questions. He might be more willing to answer." "Jonathan? Phhhrr..." Ned rolled his eyes and tried to stop the laugh that threatened. "I don't think so." He looked back at Clive still trying to gage his new friend. "So you like women, you enjoy their company and ...their pleasures." Ned sneered, suddenly feigning disinterest. "I find they leave me rather cold to tell the truth. They twitter and they fawn and they cling, rather like a small monkey I saw once or one of those pathetic little lap spaniels, all sad eyes and whimpers. Whatever do you see in them Clive? What IS the attraction?" They paused at the gate to Rose Cottage, staring at each other. Clive looked angry, Ned tried to look bored. "Come along gentlemen, have you finished your packing? We leave in half an hour." Jonathan called from the front steps. JJ   At Rose Cottage after a light dinner, in between lugging personal items down to be loaded into the post chaise the moment it arrived, Ned asked Clive again about his experiences with girls. Did he know many? How well did he know them? Clive laughed. He replied, "I told you before that I've known girls all my life. I grew up with two sisters. They were forever asking me for things, since they were not about to ask Ross. They cried when he went away to school, though. Then, they finally treated me with a little more respect. It was about that time that they stopped asking me to play with them. What do you suppose that meant?" "I have not a clue. How old were you?" Ned asked coolly. "I was eight when Ross went to school," Clive replied, raising his eyes up to the ceiling and frowning as if thought hurt. He went on rambling. "Ross, you see, was nearly ten. Of course Mother had given us a good education at home. We could all speak French, a fair amount of Swedish and some German because of our summer holidays. Ross was a fair shot with a pistol and both of us could fence. Father made sure of that. I learned to shoot when I was nine. I was big enough by then. The kick of a pistol is too strong for a young child. Mellors, my Father's sergeant, didn't want me to be discouraged." The look on Ned's face reminded Clive of someone biting into a green apple. Then, the sour statement cleared as soon as Ned noticed he was being observed. He went on with his interrogation. "What about your introduction to young ladies outside of your family? Oh, right," Clive said, crossing his long legs and sighing. "Arabella often brought home her young friends and they would invite me to their celebration of afternoon tea. In those days, I liked the sweet biscuits best. Then when I was fourteen and home from school on Christmas holiday, I saw a few of the young ladies again. They were much changed. So was my opinion of the tea parties. I was amused by the ladies, rather than all the strawberry tarts and little French cakes on the table. Ned slid closer to where Clive reclined on the bed. He whispered, "But did you make love to any of them?" Clive sat up suddenly. He gasped, "Gads, man! I was fourteen. I returned a kiss or two." Ned raised his brow. He said, "So you are pure as snow with respect to the feminine gender?" Clive blushed prettily, in his characteristically honest way. He replied quietly, "Well, not exactly. When I'd just turned fifteen, I did spend a warm, rainy afternoon in a hayloft with a fine young woman of seventeen. She was the older sister of Arabella's best friend. She told me she was very interested in me. In parts of me, I should say, to be exact. I was well-made, she said." "Were you made?" Ned asked, his voice soft and full of interest in the answer. "No," Clive admitted, blushing again and blinking. His eyelashes were a delicious cinnamon coloured fringe above his large eyes. "But I did have a fine exploration of her. And she, of me. Her breasts were large, yet still firm and high. I kissed them. It must have given her great pleasure judging from the sounds she uttered. She took my hand, and lifting her skirts, placed it at the joining of her legs. She showed me how to pleasure her there. And she was able to give me joy too. Too soon did the rain stop and the stable hands returned to the barn." Ned was breathing loudly, his mouth open. He swallowed and then asked, "So which sex do you like better?" Clive glanced at his companion. With a shy smile he said, "I'm not at all sure. I expect to find a match in a woman some day. Until then, I'm content with my friends. Nothing is more enjoyable than welcoming brotherly arms." Ned's mouth slid into a grin. "So you and your brother..." Clive reddened and chuckled. "No, I'm afraid not. He was a sort of private tutor in some things but no, not Ross. Far too proper, I'm afraid, for something like that." "Then there are limits to the aristocrat's hunting grounds?" "Of course there are! I'm no rake and no poacher. I'd never take advantage of any girl, nor would I make an advance toward your Tom, if that's what you are implying." Ned turned away. Clive looked away too and noticed Ned's reflection in the mirror. The sour statement had returned. Clive frowned, not understanding his companion at all. Clive ventured a question of his own. "Which sex do you prefer, Ned? I've not given you a chance to express your own heart." HiH Ned turned back suddenly and fixed Clive with a pointed look. "You do not listen! I have already said that I know nothing of women and I tried to make it clear that I do not wish to find out!" One slender hand reached out to catch Clive's chin. "But I do appreciate men Clive," Ned whispered before leaning in for a kiss. To Ned's surprise Clive kissed him back hungrily. "I agree with that girl's estimation too Clive," Ned whispered as his lips slid down Clive's neck. One hand came up to fondle at his groin. "You are well made, she was right to be impressed." Clive drew a sharp breath and pushed against the welcome pressure of Ned's hand. "I know ways to joy also Clive, things that girl could never imagine." With a sure hand Ned unbuttoned Clive's breeches and drew forth his prize. He slid down the bed between the parted legs his eyes never leaving Clive's. Slowly Ned licked his lips and watched as Clive blinked like a startled owl. Then, with exaggerated slowness Ned slid his mouth over Clive's twitching cock. "Dear God!" exclaimed Clive, suddenly fighting for breath. Ned resisted the temptation to grin and kept up a steady suction. He knew what he was doing; Jonathan had been an excellent teacher and Ned had already practised this on Tom. He knew he was good for Tom had been willing to agree to anything if only Ned would do it again. Clive was a quivering bundle of lust now, thrusting into his mouth, moaning wantonly and Ned felt again that surge of power he had discovered. It was intoxicating, arousing his lust unexpectedly. He ground his own erection against Clive's knee in a vain attempt to gain some satisfaction. But Clive pulled his legs up suddenly and came in Ned's mouth, causing him to gasp and pull away. Ned was about to utter a stinging rebuke but stopped when he saw the almost comic look on his young friend's face. His eyes were dazed, his glasses awry. Ned spluttered with laughter. "You are right Ned," Clive said, straightening his glasses and reaching down to button his breeches. "I doubt many women would ever dream of doing that." He suddenly grinned, his face breaking into an almost wicked smile. "But I think if I found one who did I would marry the girl!" Ned grinned, taking Clive's declaration as a compliment. A sharp rapping on the door interrupted them. "Are you ready Gentlemen? It is time to leave." Archie Kennedy poked his head around the door and raised his eyebrows. Clive quickly fumbled with the last of his buttons and Ned wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood and smoothed down his clothes. Archie frowned. "I'll just be a moment Sir," Ned explained as he brushed past Archie who stood in the door way. Archie could not help but notice the heightened colour in the Ned's cheeks. He glanced across at Clive again taking in the boys ruffled appearance before looking back to Ned who was still standing there, dangerously close. "I'll just get a glass of water from the Kitchen." Ned said with a sultry grin. "My throat is awfully dry!" JJ   "A moment, sir, if you please," Archie said, gripping Ned's upper arm gently. "Are you well? Your face is flushed. Are you coming down with fever, Mr. Grayson?" "I'm not sure," Ned exclaimed, lifting Archie's free hand to his brow. "Am I warm?" Ned caught Clive's sudden glare, a dangerous tilt of the blond head and a tightening of his lips. Poor solicitous Mr. Kennedy was falling neatly into Ned's trap. He placed his hands under the young man's chin, felt for swellings, brushed back his hair and touched his forehead and then his cheeks again. Ned stood patiently, enjoying the tender searching touches. Clive rolled his eyes and got up. "I'm sure Mr. Grayson is fine," he said, smoothing the blankets of the bed. "We were wrestling a moment in high spirits, sir. Nothing more." Archie turned upon Clive with a harder look. "I know perfectly well what you were doing, Mr. Hayworth," he said quickly. Then he added more softly, "If you wish to call it wrestling, I'll accept your term for it. I'm pleased you two seem over your differences. Now, if you please, come along. Our coach awaits." "Aye, aye, sir," Clive said, slipping into his coat and following Mr. Kennedy immediately. Ned tore down the stairs, raced into the kitchen and gulped a glass of cold water. Jerusha came up to say her farewells. She asked if he'd been into the jar of cream. He had splattered droplets on his shirt. She dabbed at the spots with a damp cloth. "Give my love to Tom," she said giving him a squeeze on his arm and helping him into his jacket. Ned nodded. Then he ran out the back door, into the sheltered garden. He cut the last of the roses and put them into his pocket. Their petals would forever remind him of Rose Cottage and his precious time with Jonathan. HiH The End