“Hmm,” said Edrington, seemingly unamused. “I would be honoured nonetheless by your presence from beyond the grave.” As much as it would have been easier to, he knew he could not turn the man away. Good hospitality was not only a passion of his, but simply a way of life. And though Edrington wondered what was left of the man that served, he would never turn away an officer to His Majesty’s Navy. Edrington was no blaspheme.
However, his genteel code was pushed to the brink; he was wary of the wild man that turned up at his doorstep. Bram could hardly blame the maid for not wishing to answer the door, and he would not fault her for feeling so. Hornblower’s unkempt appearance ( a grandiose understatement ) pushed him far from even the very fraying fringes of society – any society. Save piracy, perhaps. Surely, Hornblower would not drift so far, no matter where the winds of life pushed him. Edrington simply did not know the trials that could push one to being such a scoundrel.
“I suppose you should come in and sit and I’ll have my maid pour out for us.” Edrington figured that, Hornblower allowing, he would quarter him at his estate until he could get word to the Admiralty about their missing pup and further action could be taken. Action being a court martial, most likely; who was to say where this young man had gone and why when his person belonged to the British Navy? In the meantime, he could make himself presentable to befit anyone who was allowed a room in Lawrence Bram Edrington’s home. “Perhaps a bath would do you good, as well. New clothes, too, if you wish.”
Horatio’s lips twitched slightly – Edrington’s diplomatic manner had not changed in the slightest. Though he supposed that was understandable, considering the time that had passed for him was so much shorter than the time that had travelled for Horatio. Regardless, he had a feeling Edrington would be far from honored to be pestered by any ghost, let alone the one of Horatio Hornblower. Still – a genteel sentiment, if nothing else.
At the offer of tea and a bath, Horatio could not help but look relieved. “I would greatly appreciate a bath, and some proper attire,” He assured, knowing full well his appearance was a fright. He had no objection to his clothes – in fact he was quite fond of them, and in the Caribbean he would hardly be amiss even now. Here, however, in the height of English gentry, it was best to appear as appalled as he was certain Edrington felt.
Hospitality proved to be an impressive rule on the Edrington estate, for Horatio found his needs tended to with a sort of strict efficiency that seemed quite suited to Edrington’s no nonsense personality – even in kindness, everything was done with brisk exactitude, as though these courtesies were little more than expectation. Horatio supposed for Edrington, they were just that – acts that were expected of a man of his station to be capable of providing.
Bathing took a longer time than Horatio might have liked, and he could not help but grimace at the grime his body left in its wake. There was a certain difference between what was acceptable in English society and what passed for good enough in the Caribbean. Horatio remembered all too well the exacting nature of his proper time period and washed up accordingly, which naturally meant a great deal more process than he had needed to bother with in some time.
He felt strangely ill at ease once all the kohl, paint, ash and other markings of his life had been stripped away, leaving behind a body that bore little sign of its arcane nature once made bare of all such trappings. In the mirror, Horatio could see his age starkly – not just in the length of his hair, but in the wear of his eyes and the fitness of his form. He was fuller than before, more defined than in wiry youth, and it made him glad of the clothes that would conceal a large portion of his truth.
Once dressed, Horatio carefully concealed his belt’s contents upon his person, and took time to brush his hair out so as to not appear completely wild despite the fine dress. After some consideration, he made use of one of his hair ties to keep it all drawn back at the nape of his neck for some semblance of propriety, and considered that to be well enough before he made his way down to meet with Edrington for tea and doubtless, some manner of discussion.
This, of course, would be the more difficult portion. Horatio needed to prepare himself for questioning, as doubtless the sensationalized manner of his disappearance and his sudden return were grounds for suspicion of desertion. The obvious matter of time would likely go overlooked – magic was widely dismissed in this era, and that a man could go ten years while barely a single year passed for the rest of the world was too much to bear, Horatio was quite certain.
But he needed the admiralty and his old position – it would make things ever so much easier – and his best chance at obtaining those things would be convincing Edrington of his tale – and seeking his advice on how to manage something so political as this. The navy and the military were not so different on account of matters such as cowardice and desertion – if he could convince Edrington he possessed no cowardice, and had not chosen to desert, then perhaps he had some manner of hope ahead for an easy path.
Upon reaching the drawing room, Horatio painted on a grateful smile – and it was true, his gratitude, though the smile felt wrong on his face without the tightness of salt and kohl crinkling against his eyes in the action. Some part of him also registered that his old stoic self had smiled so rarely, it was possible the action might make a stranger of him all over again.
“I cannot begin to thank you enough, my lord,” Horatio professed as he took his seat, the title coming naturally and with due deference – something his old self had railed at, and managed quite often to avoid using at all times ( and always sounding terribly stiff about it, rather than at ease with the social distance between himself and the major ) but Horatio had since spent a decade learning the value of respecting a man’s pride in his title only so far as needed to manipulate him through it.
“It’s been far too long since I’ve been able to enjoy the comforts of a civilized society,” Honeyed and earnest words came easily to him, and there was truth enough behind them to cast little doubt. “I fear I may be out of my depth with all that has changed,” And here, he offered the window for investigation openly, leaving the power to direct in Edrington’s court, where doubtless it would be most comfortable.
Ocean Archive 