morethanhonour: (Planning)
Edward Burr ([personal profile] morethanhonour) wrote2013-03-29 03:46 pm
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The Price of Peace - Chapter Twenty-Four

The Price of Peace
Book Three
Chapter Twenty-Four

Edward barely dared to let himself breathe. He and Faith had announced their engagement, and the admiral welcomed him when he first called on the family. Two weeks’ worth of banns brought no objections from anyone in either parish. For her part, Missus Long energetically resumed planning the wedding.

He found it easy to smile at the family and friends. Everywhere he turned, it seemed, someone waited to offer congratulations and catch him up on the latest gossip. Faith was ever by his side, especially when several people were around. He only needed to look over his shoulder at any moment to see where she was and receive a warm, encouraging smile. To anyone unaware, they seemed the picture of happiness, a couple reunited after strife.

In private, they spoke little. They rarely wrote to one another. What was there to say? They knew what had passed, and their marriage terms were set. Some of the agreements stood more in shadow than others. No one but them, for instance, knew about the papers drafted in private allowing Faith total control of almost all the fortune she brought to the union. Edward signed every sheet without hesitation; it was the least he could do for her.

The letters for the wedding were written and sent. Unlike David’s, this would be much quieter. The nature of the engagement made it something to draw less attention to than it had once been, but the length of the separation helped quell talk about scandal anyone might wish to stir up. Edward hoped, at the very least, that Joseph would be able to attend. He needed a friend present.

‡ ‡ ‡

“Young men are foolish, my love. At least this one realised what a mistake he made.” Admiral Long shook his head to try and hide his slight amusement from his wife. She wasn’t fooled and glared at him; it didn’t worry him.

She huffed softly. “All he realised, John, is that he would be a wealthy man if he married her.” His dear, sweet Henrietta looked ready to unleash a rage on the poor boy the next time she happened to meet him.

Not, he granted, that Mister Burr didn’t deserve it. One might applaud him for wanting to do right by the invented child and its mother while also curse him for his callousness toward his future bride. His youth excused only so much. His wife needn’t know, but he would set himself sentry to see that his son-in-law did not prove prone to wander from his marriage bed. For now, however, he sought to reassure Henrietta.

“Darling,” he murmured, “you have raised a sweet and polite daughter, yet. No one with any sense could argue with that. However, she is sharp, too. Do you believe she would be so blinded by a rekindled romance as to not properly sound this man for ill intent?” He smiled fondly at the woman. “She has her mother’s keenness, I know. She does not love blindly.”

Henrietta seemed somewhat appeased as she retired to her rooms. For his part, John returned to his desk to examine his papers. The thought of a wedding would not occur to him tomorrow. It would be for talk of war, not love.

‡ ‡ ‡

Mona jumped when she heard a knock at her inn room door. She had requested the visit, yes, even gotten Gregory out of the way for a few hours, but, somehow, she had never anticipated the meeting should come to pass. It defied all propriety. She thought he would not come. Nerves, the baby, or both made her stomach clench as she got to her feet. Her hands shook as she opened the door, and tears stood in her eyes before she even saw her visitor. She bowed her head almost at once, and he stepped in.

“Thank you for coming, Mister Long.”

The young man looked her over. His gaze lingered briefly on her middle, the pronouncement of which her dress no longer concealed. In a quiet, cracked voice, he congratulated her and wished her good health. He swallowed hard to clear his throat and managed to say in a fairly even tone, “Missus Long told me you were considering a house in Arlington Mews.”

“I should like to, sir, if it would not cause you distress.”

“Missus Long would like that greatly,” he replied. Mona felt she ought to withdraw her request. He looked so pained. Yet, before she could speak, he drew a piece of parchment from his coat pocket. “These are properties I have contacted. The men who let them know me and my father. They will deal fairly with you. I personally prefer Mister Smythe, but all of them are tolerable gentlemen.”

Mona felt tears falling, and she only just refrained from embracing him. “Will you take tea, Mister Long? I would speak to you regarding Gregory.”

‡ ‡ ‡

Gregory sat as stiff as a mast in the admiral’s private study. David, professional but a hundred times calmer, occupied a chair only two feet away from him. It was impossible not to notice how pale he was or the slope of his neck. He could also not ignore how David’s eyes remained fixed ahead. What had he done to deserve this treatment?

“We have not yet officially declared war on France, but that will come soon,” Admiral Long said. “You, Captain Hawke, will take command of Radiance. She’s nearly fully crewed, shy only a surgeon, a clerk, a bosun, two midshipmen,” he paused to smile, “and a lieutenant.”

The words struck Gregory. He looked first at the admiral then at David. It was either a cruel joke of the universe or some chance of redemption. With David as his lieutenant, he was sure to have a good command of the crew. However, if David said no, he would not press the admiral’s idea. Even if he could not have David near to him as he once had, he would at least have him by his side in battle.

David finally looked at him. Gregory knew him too well not to see the pain trying to conceal itself in his eyes. At last, he spoke, “If Captain Hawke will have me, I would consider it an honour, sirs.”

“Thank you, sir,” Gregory said to the admiral. To David, after meeting his gaze and holding it for a few moments, he said, “I would be happy to have you as my lieutenant on Radiance when she sails, Mister Long.”

‡ ‡ ‡

“You’ve really forgiven him?” Abigail asked softly, looking at Faith as they sat together in the upstairs sitting room.

Faith sighed. She didn’t like the idea, Abigail knew. It was written across her face, every doubt and uncertainty. “I have.” She added after a small hesitation, “As much as I need to in order to marry him, at least.”

Abigail touched Faith’s hand and smiled faintly. “So long as you’ll be happy.”

“I will.” She looked so much older now from this trial, yet it had given her a grace and poise she had lacked previously. “I chose my husband, fully aware of his faults before I tied myself to him. Marriage, especially to an often-absent officer, grants me freedoms living in my father’s house will deny me, and I am able to help Edward.”

Abigail saw the smile within her smile; it was well-deserved, too. “And,” she pointed out, curious as to how Faith would reply, “he cannot ever forget how indebted he is to you.” She watched as her companion tried and failed to keep her smile demure and ladylike.

Faith bit at her lip as she muttered, “May I ask you something? I don’t want to ask Mother, but it frightens me.”

“Of course.” Abigail braced herself, sure of the question to come.

“Does it hurt?”

She sighed, willing away the memories that threatened to consume her. “If he cares and is gentle, it won’t be too awful.”

‡ ‡ ‡

Radiance was a sixth-rate frigate with twenty-four guns. She was trim and taut, a fine piece of Spanish construction bought into service for the English. Her crew were mostly pressed seamen, though a few had volunteered themselves. Every man seemed, at least, to know his duty, and they presented themselves to their new lieutenant for prompt inspection.

Overall, David was extremely pleased. Gregory would reap the benefits of being commissioned so near the start of the war.

It felt good to walk a deck again, to know he would soon be at sea. The role of second-in-command came back to him easily. The sound of “sir” and the sight of salutes warmed him, made him feel slowly more alive. He felt like he had a purpose at last.

He had only one regret and one hesitation. Abigail had no child yet despite all their efforts. The task would not yet be abandoned, but their time together would soon become far shorter and more staggered. Still, he would try and see that wish fulfilled. He had little idea how to handle serving under Gregory now. The sight of him was painful, but it was also exceedingly welcome. How he had missed the sound of his voice. Yet, Missus Hawke had asked him to take this position at her husband’s side if he was able. Their relationship would never be what it had, but, perhaps, it he was very fortunate, he might still call Gregory a friend.

A midshipman appeared and saluted. “Captain’s boat approaching, Mister Long, sir.”

‡ ‡ ‡

With her wedding day fast approaching at long last, Faith found he suffered from increasing nerves about the wedding night. Her mother had yet to offer her reassurances or advice, and Abigail would say very little. Faith knew not to press her, could not bear the thought of causing her pain for the sake of calming herself. She sorely wished she knew Missus Hawke better; she would call on her for all these questions and worries if she did.

Her married friends have given her varying reports after their nuptials. Margaret had said she had scarce let her William near her again because it had been so painful, but Rosaline told her, between giggles, that it had been quite enjoyable and she often sought to spend the night with Jason. Faith was terrified to find out for herself.

A knock at the door preceded her mother’s entry. Despite her embarrassment, Faith felt a flood of relief. Her mother’s expression clearly announced her intention to impart her wisdom upon her daughter. Faith seized her hands, eyes wide with equal parts eagerness and anxiety. She spoke rapidly, fast draining herself of breath.

“What do I do, Mother? Will it hurt? Is there much blood? Will it be that night? What if I am afraid? Will he know to be gentle? He will know I’ve never done such a thing before, won’t he? What will he expect of me? How long does it take? What do I do after? What do I do before?”

She was allowed to speak her piece, to go on until she had to stop and breathe.

“Hush, hush, child,” her mother replied, stroking her hair. “Let me set your mind at ease.”

‡ ‡ ‡

“I’ve a wedding present for you.”

Faith scrutinized him closely, but Edward kept his smile. It was, he felt, his finest idea in a long while. Waiting for three more days until after the ceremony simply wouldn’t answer. Nothing could alter plans now, so it was safe. He would make this gift to Faith even if there was a chance of losing her again. She deserved it. He produced a sealed letter and offered it to her, along with a small knife to break the wax.

For a few moments, she read the paper silently. Edward watched her curiosity and excitement grow word by word. When she reached the heart of the content, she abandoned the letter and her dignity. She embraced him, and he spun her about once. When he set her on her feet, she placed a sweet kiss on his lips. Edward returned it, brushing his fingers against her cheek.

He loved her. Whatever the strong feelings he had for Remy were— and they still burned in him, even as he tried to stamp them out— he found he still honestly loved her.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You know you didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Edward replied. “But I know you wanted it.” He kissed her forehead. “I want you to be happy.” Faith looked up at him. “Please believe me.”

She kissed him again, warm and tender. Edward let himself cling to her. Their life at Lexington Estate would not be perfect, but he at last thought they might enjoy it.