Edward Burr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
morethanhonour) wrote2013-03-29 03:46 pm
morethanhonour) wrote2013-03-29 03:46 pm
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The Price of Peace - Chapter Twenty-Five
The Price of Peace
Book Three
Chapter Twenty-Five
All of Faith’s nerves vanished as she stood before the vicar with Edward. Behind them, friends and family watched, filling the pews of Saint Paul’s Cathedral. Her father stood just behind her to her left, and Mister Clay was off to Edward’s right, holding the wedding ring Edward had selected for her. The minister led them through their vows, and Edward placed the gold and sapphire ring on her finger before they shared their first kiss as husband and wife before Man and God.
Faith couldn’t help but smile. Edward was looking at her with pure affection. This, she knew, was for the best. They were both well-served by their marriage. She took his hand and walked up the aisle on his arm.
A carriage waited for them, driven by a sleek man in a Navy uniform and led by four black horses. David had told her that sometimes hands of a ship would pull the carriage of a newly-married officer. Edward, however, had no ship at the present, so there was no crew to call for. He opened the door and assisted her in. Once he was settled beside her, the horses began to trot.
“Missus Burr,” Faith said, testing the name aloud when someone else was around to hear for the first time. No matter the mutual benefits, the negotiations, the hardship, or the scandal that had led to this day, it made her giddy to think of the union itself. Especially when she considered the country home Edward had waiting for her. The advertisement for servants would appear in a few papers tomorrow morning, and she could begin the task of selecting her staff personally. David had promised her a mare due to give birth, the baby, and an unrelated stallion to start filling her stable. She couldn’t contain herself, and warm, delighted laughter bubbled from her lips. “Missus Edward Burr of Lexington Estate.”
“It’s good to hear you laugh,” Edward murmured, closing his hands around hers. He kept his voice so low and bowed his head. No one could doubt his contrition, Faith least of all. He had erred, yes, and she would be ever-vigilant against it happening again, but, for today, she pardoned him fully. On this day, he was naught but her new husband. “I hope I shall never again be a stranger to that sound.”
Faith had to kiss him. She couldn’t bear not to. “I know you never will,” she assured him. Tomorrow, she could doubt that statement. “Save when you are at sea, far from me. But, then, it shall greet you when you return.” She stroked his cheek as the carriage began to slow. “Will you still write to me when you’re away, now that courtship must no longer be done?” She tried to make sure her voice sounded teasing.
“At least once a week,” Edward promised. Then, some of her joy finally seemed to catch, and he allowed himself the barest hint of a playful air. “You have three months from the day I leave, my darling, to write to me of news about our family until I shall start to grow disappointed in the wait.”
“How impatient! You will take what God grants and when, Mister Burr.”
“Of course, of course, Missus Burr,” he demurred, kissing her again. The carriage came to a full stop, and the driver opened the door a moment later. Now, it was time to face her mother’s party, filled with members of the social circles this was meant to impress and others who were supposed to envy her. They would be the centrepiece—the promising young officer and his pretty new wife. Edward offered his hand after departing, and she laid hers in it. As she stepped out, he bowed to kiss the back of her hand. He stepped close and whispered right into her ear, “My dearest Faith, I love you.”
She found, remarkably, that she didn’t and couldn’t doubt him.
‡ ‡ ‡
As Admiral Long toasted to the health of the happy couple, Joseph felt very content. Edward was married to a respectable lady of high society who would help his career and of whom he was very fond. Faith was no longer a threat; she was an ally, now. Martineau was off in France, having done no irreparable harm to Edward’s heart or name. Edward’s last letter to Martineau, informing him of this happy day, was safe. He had burned it in the hearth of his room at Heather Grange. The estate of George Farley was neatly bound up by solicitors who would assist his dear Nathaniel in his absence. A chance remark over supper the previous evening had allowed him the perfect way to get Martha well away from Nathaniel and Rebecca before she knew too much about the former and could too far infuriate the latter. Even he would get what he wanted soon, as the return of war meant he would be once more employed and at sea, which he did so long for.
He had promised Faith as happy an ending as possible for as many people as he could, and Joseph felt he had done more than satisfactorily so far. All he needed to do now was see to it that Edward got a proper ship. He knew what the admiral intended, so his worries there were very few. Soon, even before he went to a ship with Edward, all the remaining matters would be settled. He would find Henry Farley, even if only to keep him away from Heather Grange and his siblings. He would pacify Miles. He would find a contact to keep him informed on Martineau’s movements. He would find a physician near Arlington Mews to keep an eye on Faith. He would ask the man to look in on Missus Long and Missus Hawke, too, as a show of good will.
Yes, Joseph felt he could nearly feel contented about his work so far. By the time the ship set sail, he would be able to leave without concern.
‡ ‡ ‡
Faith looked happy. As far as David was concerned, that was all that really mattered. She looked radiant and full of joy and eager to start her new life as a wife and lady of the house. She would do well, he felt. She had learned at their mother’s knee and had a sweeter disposition. Age and responsibility might well change that, but David hoped it wouldn’t. Even Edward, he saw, looked content, at the very least. He had worried about that after the months he had spent so enraptured with Martineau. The tale Edward sold to Faith was incredible, and David was duly amazed at the efficiency with which she had spread it through their family and social circles.
He was particularly glad Edward had taken residence at Lexington Estate. It would do Abigail good to have people she knew around her, especially once he was gone. Between Faith and Mona, she would be well cared for, especially if she were to have a child soon. He quite hoped she would, simply because she did want to have a baby.
Gregory would make a good father, far better than he ever would. Maybe by the time Mona gave birth, David would be able to bear the thought without too much pain. Gregory would want— even need— to board about his family, and David knew he would be a poor friend if he could not at least listen and pretend to be happy for him. Since he could be nothing more— his promise to Mona still held, and he prized Gregory’s happiness too high to risk it for his own selfish desires— he would at least prove to be a good friend.
He almost laughed. Poor Faith looked so relieved as guests began to say their goodbyes to her husband and to her. The sooner they all departed, after all, the quicker she could begin her trip with Edward to their country home. She would enjoy having such a place under her command. Perhaps he would even grow eager for her husband to go to sea.
‡ ‡ ‡
The people, noise, and general activity were too much for Abigail after a short while. She found an opportunity to slip away from the crowd and sat alone on a stone bench in the garden of the Long family home. She missed Crawford Manor. She could be alone there, escape anything there might be.
Footsteps approached, and she froze. She was ready to scream. David would come running if she did; he would protect her. The sound died in her throat as her fear lessened, though without vanishing entirely, at the sight of Gregory Hawke. He had made every effort in his appearance, but he was like her and Edward: he didn’t belong to this world. Even his best uniform had well-concealed patches and was made from cheaper fabric. It was a sharp, sudden desire, but she felt keenly she ought to try her hand at making a naval officer’s coat. David bought her every little thing she asked for her sewing. She could try to make such a thing for Captain Hawke.
“Missus Long,” he said in greeting. She acknowledged him with a nod of her head. “I want to thank you on Missus Hawke’s behalf. We are to let a place in Arlington Mews, and I’ve no doubt it is you I have to thank. She is very fond of you, and she will be glad to have you so near. Would it be any imposition if she were to call on you once she has settled in the house?”
Abigail actually smiled. “None at all, Captain Hawke.” The expression faded as she fixed her eyes on him. “I have on favour to ask of you, sir.”
“Name it, madam, and I shall do all I can to see it done,” he replied. His gaze and voice seemed particularly sincere, and Abigail bowed her head in gratitude.
“It is part of your duty as captain, I know, but I ask it as a personal favour, too: take care of my husband. Bring David home to me.”
‡ ‡ ‡
The guests were gone, and Faith was preparing the last of her things for the move. By tonight, they would be in Lexington Estate with only a few servants Admiral and Missus Long could part with until they established their own staff.
For his part, Edward sat in the admiral’s study, across the desk from his father-in-law. He knew he had to remain calm; he could not rush. To appear over-eager now might well damn him. His marriage did not put the admiral in his debt. He was owed nothing. They had spoken casually of the service for at least a quarter of an hour, and Edward was sure it was leading to the presentation of his new commission. He felt he could dare hope for command of a small sloop. He could prove himself easily enough with just that.
“It does this old heart good,” Admiral Long said, folding his hands together, “to know my daughter is married to a fine young officer such as yourself.” He arched an eyebrow and set a firm, displeased look on Edward. “I trust there will be no letters in the future, Mister Burr, about children you may have fathered by any woman save Faith.”
Edward shook his head. “No, sir.” He struggled to keep his composure. Too sharp or enthusiastic a denial would make him sound false. “I have sworn myself to my wife before God, sir. I shall not break that vow.”
“And,” the older man said, watching Edward closely, “what of Nelson’s thinking? Does your loyalty to your wife hold you only to Gibraltar?”
“Lord Nelson is a great man and a brilliant commander, sir.” Edward briefly bowed his head in respect for the figure he spoke of. “But for myself, my bond to Faith was ordained by God. To be untrue to her is to mock Him. To know another woman under the eyes of God would be a shame I could not bear, and nowhere on this earth is free of the Almighty’s gaze. I shall never be untrue, sir.”
“At the very least, you are well-spoken,” he murmured in reply. “Still, I believe you.” A small smile began to form. “Marriage vows mean very little to many sailors, even the officers. There isn’t much to be done for it, no, but I often find myself inclined to doubt a man. If he cannot be loyal to his wife, how will he treat his ship? It is not always a certainty, no, but I may judge men in my squadron how I choose.”
Edward answered, “Yes, sir.” He was sure the speech was meant as a warning. Infidelity could cost him good ships, good assignments. He needed no incentive other than his debt to Faith, but he would not forget those words either. Faith had been raised by a virtuous man, and his wife no doubt was as devout as he. For their sake and for any children yet to come, Edward decided, he would see himself become a man more devoted to religion. Perhaps he would benefit from finding a chaplain for his next command, no matter how small it might be.
The admiral nodded, his smile growing. “Good lad,” he said with some fondness. “My little girl chose well.” The praised lifted Edward’s spirits a little. Perhaps, with great effort, he could someday be worth of this family he had joined. The older man laughed then, apparently seized by some marked joy. “I’ll be accused of more than slight favouritism, but, well, damn it all. I can favour my daughter’s husband. Mind, you get six months to prove yourself worth of it before I stick you on some little thing with the barest qualifications. Do I make myself absolutely clear,” he paused, a gleam in his eyes, “Captain Burr?”
The emphasis demanded Edward’s attention, yet it took him a further moment to understand. Only as the admiral stared at him expectantly did the idea begin to catch. At last, he realised that a promotion had been laid at his feet, and his eyes widened. Admiral Long laughed as he barely managed to stammer, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I understand, sir. I won’t disappoint you, sir.”
Admiral Long offered the sealed packet of orders across the desk, and Edward accepted it. He took the letter from the top and broke that seal to see the words formally etched onto the paper. There was his promotion. He continued to read, eager to learn the name of his ship as his commanding officer went on.
“She has nearly a full complement. I have seen to replacing the surgeon with Mister Clay, as per his request and,” he paused deliberately and seemed satisfied when Edward knew who he referred to, “another’s. I know you are friends, so I trust you do not mind the liberty.” Edward shook his head. “You lack one midshipman. If there is one you would like, I shall attempt to secure the boy. You will also need a coxswain. Do you have any preferences?”
“Not for a midshipman, no, sir,” Edward said. “If Mister Driver can be found and is willing, I should like to have him as my coxswain.” He paused, considering his next request. Would it seem false? As though he was only seeking to curry favour? “Might I have a chaplain, also, sir? I believe my men and I both could greatly benefit from one.”
His father-in-law considered the words, and Edward saw no disapproval. “I believe that could be arranged. He may not be fully ordained, but we are willing to call apothecary boys and butchers our surgeons. The spirit will be the same, and, I think, the men will respond well to that.”
“I agree, sir. Thank you, sir.” His attention focused on the orders again as he finally saw the name of his ship. He read it three times before he dared to believe the ink letters were not in his imagination.
Galatea.
Book Three
Chapter Twenty-Five
All of Faith’s nerves vanished as she stood before the vicar with Edward. Behind them, friends and family watched, filling the pews of Saint Paul’s Cathedral. Her father stood just behind her to her left, and Mister Clay was off to Edward’s right, holding the wedding ring Edward had selected for her. The minister led them through their vows, and Edward placed the gold and sapphire ring on her finger before they shared their first kiss as husband and wife before Man and God.
Faith couldn’t help but smile. Edward was looking at her with pure affection. This, she knew, was for the best. They were both well-served by their marriage. She took his hand and walked up the aisle on his arm.
A carriage waited for them, driven by a sleek man in a Navy uniform and led by four black horses. David had told her that sometimes hands of a ship would pull the carriage of a newly-married officer. Edward, however, had no ship at the present, so there was no crew to call for. He opened the door and assisted her in. Once he was settled beside her, the horses began to trot.
“Missus Burr,” Faith said, testing the name aloud when someone else was around to hear for the first time. No matter the mutual benefits, the negotiations, the hardship, or the scandal that had led to this day, it made her giddy to think of the union itself. Especially when she considered the country home Edward had waiting for her. The advertisement for servants would appear in a few papers tomorrow morning, and she could begin the task of selecting her staff personally. David had promised her a mare due to give birth, the baby, and an unrelated stallion to start filling her stable. She couldn’t contain herself, and warm, delighted laughter bubbled from her lips. “Missus Edward Burr of Lexington Estate.”
“It’s good to hear you laugh,” Edward murmured, closing his hands around hers. He kept his voice so low and bowed his head. No one could doubt his contrition, Faith least of all. He had erred, yes, and she would be ever-vigilant against it happening again, but, for today, she pardoned him fully. On this day, he was naught but her new husband. “I hope I shall never again be a stranger to that sound.”
Faith had to kiss him. She couldn’t bear not to. “I know you never will,” she assured him. Tomorrow, she could doubt that statement. “Save when you are at sea, far from me. But, then, it shall greet you when you return.” She stroked his cheek as the carriage began to slow. “Will you still write to me when you’re away, now that courtship must no longer be done?” She tried to make sure her voice sounded teasing.
“At least once a week,” Edward promised. Then, some of her joy finally seemed to catch, and he allowed himself the barest hint of a playful air. “You have three months from the day I leave, my darling, to write to me of news about our family until I shall start to grow disappointed in the wait.”
“How impatient! You will take what God grants and when, Mister Burr.”
“Of course, of course, Missus Burr,” he demurred, kissing her again. The carriage came to a full stop, and the driver opened the door a moment later. Now, it was time to face her mother’s party, filled with members of the social circles this was meant to impress and others who were supposed to envy her. They would be the centrepiece—the promising young officer and his pretty new wife. Edward offered his hand after departing, and she laid hers in it. As she stepped out, he bowed to kiss the back of her hand. He stepped close and whispered right into her ear, “My dearest Faith, I love you.”
She found, remarkably, that she didn’t and couldn’t doubt him.
‡ ‡ ‡
As Admiral Long toasted to the health of the happy couple, Joseph felt very content. Edward was married to a respectable lady of high society who would help his career and of whom he was very fond. Faith was no longer a threat; she was an ally, now. Martineau was off in France, having done no irreparable harm to Edward’s heart or name. Edward’s last letter to Martineau, informing him of this happy day, was safe. He had burned it in the hearth of his room at Heather Grange. The estate of George Farley was neatly bound up by solicitors who would assist his dear Nathaniel in his absence. A chance remark over supper the previous evening had allowed him the perfect way to get Martha well away from Nathaniel and Rebecca before she knew too much about the former and could too far infuriate the latter. Even he would get what he wanted soon, as the return of war meant he would be once more employed and at sea, which he did so long for.
He had promised Faith as happy an ending as possible for as many people as he could, and Joseph felt he had done more than satisfactorily so far. All he needed to do now was see to it that Edward got a proper ship. He knew what the admiral intended, so his worries there were very few. Soon, even before he went to a ship with Edward, all the remaining matters would be settled. He would find Henry Farley, even if only to keep him away from Heather Grange and his siblings. He would pacify Miles. He would find a contact to keep him informed on Martineau’s movements. He would find a physician near Arlington Mews to keep an eye on Faith. He would ask the man to look in on Missus Long and Missus Hawke, too, as a show of good will.
Yes, Joseph felt he could nearly feel contented about his work so far. By the time the ship set sail, he would be able to leave without concern.
‡ ‡ ‡
Faith looked happy. As far as David was concerned, that was all that really mattered. She looked radiant and full of joy and eager to start her new life as a wife and lady of the house. She would do well, he felt. She had learned at their mother’s knee and had a sweeter disposition. Age and responsibility might well change that, but David hoped it wouldn’t. Even Edward, he saw, looked content, at the very least. He had worried about that after the months he had spent so enraptured with Martineau. The tale Edward sold to Faith was incredible, and David was duly amazed at the efficiency with which she had spread it through their family and social circles.
He was particularly glad Edward had taken residence at Lexington Estate. It would do Abigail good to have people she knew around her, especially once he was gone. Between Faith and Mona, she would be well cared for, especially if she were to have a child soon. He quite hoped she would, simply because she did want to have a baby.
Gregory would make a good father, far better than he ever would. Maybe by the time Mona gave birth, David would be able to bear the thought without too much pain. Gregory would want— even need— to board about his family, and David knew he would be a poor friend if he could not at least listen and pretend to be happy for him. Since he could be nothing more— his promise to Mona still held, and he prized Gregory’s happiness too high to risk it for his own selfish desires— he would at least prove to be a good friend.
He almost laughed. Poor Faith looked so relieved as guests began to say their goodbyes to her husband and to her. The sooner they all departed, after all, the quicker she could begin her trip with Edward to their country home. She would enjoy having such a place under her command. Perhaps he would even grow eager for her husband to go to sea.
‡ ‡ ‡
The people, noise, and general activity were too much for Abigail after a short while. She found an opportunity to slip away from the crowd and sat alone on a stone bench in the garden of the Long family home. She missed Crawford Manor. She could be alone there, escape anything there might be.
Footsteps approached, and she froze. She was ready to scream. David would come running if she did; he would protect her. The sound died in her throat as her fear lessened, though without vanishing entirely, at the sight of Gregory Hawke. He had made every effort in his appearance, but he was like her and Edward: he didn’t belong to this world. Even his best uniform had well-concealed patches and was made from cheaper fabric. It was a sharp, sudden desire, but she felt keenly she ought to try her hand at making a naval officer’s coat. David bought her every little thing she asked for her sewing. She could try to make such a thing for Captain Hawke.
“Missus Long,” he said in greeting. She acknowledged him with a nod of her head. “I want to thank you on Missus Hawke’s behalf. We are to let a place in Arlington Mews, and I’ve no doubt it is you I have to thank. She is very fond of you, and she will be glad to have you so near. Would it be any imposition if she were to call on you once she has settled in the house?”
Abigail actually smiled. “None at all, Captain Hawke.” The expression faded as she fixed her eyes on him. “I have on favour to ask of you, sir.”
“Name it, madam, and I shall do all I can to see it done,” he replied. His gaze and voice seemed particularly sincere, and Abigail bowed her head in gratitude.
“It is part of your duty as captain, I know, but I ask it as a personal favour, too: take care of my husband. Bring David home to me.”
‡ ‡ ‡
The guests were gone, and Faith was preparing the last of her things for the move. By tonight, they would be in Lexington Estate with only a few servants Admiral and Missus Long could part with until they established their own staff.
For his part, Edward sat in the admiral’s study, across the desk from his father-in-law. He knew he had to remain calm; he could not rush. To appear over-eager now might well damn him. His marriage did not put the admiral in his debt. He was owed nothing. They had spoken casually of the service for at least a quarter of an hour, and Edward was sure it was leading to the presentation of his new commission. He felt he could dare hope for command of a small sloop. He could prove himself easily enough with just that.
“It does this old heart good,” Admiral Long said, folding his hands together, “to know my daughter is married to a fine young officer such as yourself.” He arched an eyebrow and set a firm, displeased look on Edward. “I trust there will be no letters in the future, Mister Burr, about children you may have fathered by any woman save Faith.”
Edward shook his head. “No, sir.” He struggled to keep his composure. Too sharp or enthusiastic a denial would make him sound false. “I have sworn myself to my wife before God, sir. I shall not break that vow.”
“And,” the older man said, watching Edward closely, “what of Nelson’s thinking? Does your loyalty to your wife hold you only to Gibraltar?”
“Lord Nelson is a great man and a brilliant commander, sir.” Edward briefly bowed his head in respect for the figure he spoke of. “But for myself, my bond to Faith was ordained by God. To be untrue to her is to mock Him. To know another woman under the eyes of God would be a shame I could not bear, and nowhere on this earth is free of the Almighty’s gaze. I shall never be untrue, sir.”
“At the very least, you are well-spoken,” he murmured in reply. “Still, I believe you.” A small smile began to form. “Marriage vows mean very little to many sailors, even the officers. There isn’t much to be done for it, no, but I often find myself inclined to doubt a man. If he cannot be loyal to his wife, how will he treat his ship? It is not always a certainty, no, but I may judge men in my squadron how I choose.”
Edward answered, “Yes, sir.” He was sure the speech was meant as a warning. Infidelity could cost him good ships, good assignments. He needed no incentive other than his debt to Faith, but he would not forget those words either. Faith had been raised by a virtuous man, and his wife no doubt was as devout as he. For their sake and for any children yet to come, Edward decided, he would see himself become a man more devoted to religion. Perhaps he would benefit from finding a chaplain for his next command, no matter how small it might be.
The admiral nodded, his smile growing. “Good lad,” he said with some fondness. “My little girl chose well.” The praised lifted Edward’s spirits a little. Perhaps, with great effort, he could someday be worth of this family he had joined. The older man laughed then, apparently seized by some marked joy. “I’ll be accused of more than slight favouritism, but, well, damn it all. I can favour my daughter’s husband. Mind, you get six months to prove yourself worth of it before I stick you on some little thing with the barest qualifications. Do I make myself absolutely clear,” he paused, a gleam in his eyes, “Captain Burr?”
The emphasis demanded Edward’s attention, yet it took him a further moment to understand. Only as the admiral stared at him expectantly did the idea begin to catch. At last, he realised that a promotion had been laid at his feet, and his eyes widened. Admiral Long laughed as he barely managed to stammer, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I understand, sir. I won’t disappoint you, sir.”
Admiral Long offered the sealed packet of orders across the desk, and Edward accepted it. He took the letter from the top and broke that seal to see the words formally etched onto the paper. There was his promotion. He continued to read, eager to learn the name of his ship as his commanding officer went on.
“She has nearly a full complement. I have seen to replacing the surgeon with Mister Clay, as per his request and,” he paused deliberately and seemed satisfied when Edward knew who he referred to, “another’s. I know you are friends, so I trust you do not mind the liberty.” Edward shook his head. “You lack one midshipman. If there is one you would like, I shall attempt to secure the boy. You will also need a coxswain. Do you have any preferences?”
“Not for a midshipman, no, sir,” Edward said. “If Mister Driver can be found and is willing, I should like to have him as my coxswain.” He paused, considering his next request. Would it seem false? As though he was only seeking to curry favour? “Might I have a chaplain, also, sir? I believe my men and I both could greatly benefit from one.”
His father-in-law considered the words, and Edward saw no disapproval. “I believe that could be arranged. He may not be fully ordained, but we are willing to call apothecary boys and butchers our surgeons. The spirit will be the same, and, I think, the men will respond well to that.”
“I agree, sir. Thank you, sir.” His attention focused on the orders again as he finally saw the name of his ship. He read it three times before he dared to believe the ink letters were not in his imagination.
Galatea.