Coming to Terms (Hornblower fic)--tarotgal birthday fic 2022

[Wig_Powder]

So this one requires some backstory...

Waaay back in 2011, tarotgal did a sneezefic challenge where the story had to involve a holiday and use at least one of the quotes provided. I had a story in mind set on Valentine's Day, but real life plus some difficulties getting the story right delayed its release, so I didn't post it until, appropriately enough, Valentine's Day 2012. Said fic eventually gained the title "Young Woman's Fancy", and since most of my stories are one-shots, I considered that the end of it.

Then, when I was going through tarotgal's comment meme prompts to find stories to do for this little project, I found one that was very simple and very vague; "The weather wasn't helping. Here in London, it rained every day without fail." The mention of London meant that I could easily write either a Hornblower or a Forever fic, and I started trying to figure out what to do. And then, practically out of nowhere, my Valentine's Day fic came back to my mind, and I realized that the character I'd introduced there was perfect for the idea I was starting to develop. So what we have here is a decades-later sequel, a rarity for me.

Now, "Young Woman's Fancy" is unfortunately just adult enough that I can't post it to the main fanfiction section, but hopefully, it works well enough that you can read it as a standalone. I just wanted to share the backstory so those of you who do have access to the Adult Board don't go "Hey, wait a minute..."

(And for those of you who are on the Adult Board...I was telling the truth when I said I'd recently realized I'd never posted "Young Woman's Fancy" to the forum. But as you can see, there may have been an ulterior motive as well.)

Finally, after all this preamble, I do have to warn that there are massive, MASSIVE SPOILERS for the book Lord Hornblower in this story. So if you're interested in reading them, you may want to stay away. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

~~~

The weather wasn’t helping. Here in London, it rained every day without fail. The papers were saying it was an uncommonly wet autumn, and while the usual society events went on as planned (save for those that were designed to be held outdoors), people did their best to keep their exposure to the rain to a minimum. If they did venture outside, it was either by carriage, or a short journey where they would dash from doorway to doorway in order to keep relatively dry.

However, Horatio Hornblower, Commodore of His Majesties' Navy and newly minted Lord, chose to make all his trips on foot, despite the weather and the cold that had taken hold of him the day he left for London on Admiralty business. Anyone who caught a glimpse of him most likely found that to be an odd decision, but with any luck, assumed he was used to the cold and wet after so many years at sea. Though for once, Hornblower didn’t much care what anyone thought of him; all that mattered to him was using the journey to think. And if the gloomy weather reflected his mood, and the rain made his cold slightly worse...well, he’d curse the circumstances, but also see it as a well-deserved punishment.

While it was true that he’d had Navy business to attend to in London, his primary reason for going to the city had been to give both himself and Barbara time apart, so that they could decide where they stood after what the newspapers were calling “Napoleon’s Hundred Days.” He’d linger for as long as he could, but eventually, he’d need to return to Smallbridge, at which point they’d have to decide if all was forgiven, or if Barbara would be the one leaving for London this time, the two of them only seeing each other when naval or society events required them to make an appearance together. It was not an event Hornblower was looking forward to.

On the fourth day of his stay, Hornblower was returning from the Admiralty, contemplating which ships he should recommend for decommission, when he felt the all too familiar prickle in his nose. Pulling out one of his handkerchiefs (he had three concealed on his person, all of which had become damp from use and the rain but that he continued to use for propriety’s sake), he paused in his walk and let the sneeze bend him forward. “Heh-ptchh!!”

Ordinarily, he would have sniffed, dabbed at his nose, then tucked the handkerchief away and resumed his walk. This time, however, he was in the process of rubbing his nose when a voice came from his right, close enough that it was clear that the words were directed at him.

“Bless you, sir.”

Startled, Hornblower looked in the direction of the voice. A woman was peering out of the window of her carriage, looking at him sympathetically. “This isn’t the sort of weather one should be walking around in,” she said, “Especially if, unless I’m very much mistaken, one already has a cold. Please, share my carriage; I’ll have Peter drop you off wherever you wish to go.”

“I’m very appreciative of your offer, my lady,” Hornblower said, “But I wouldn’t wish to inconvenience you.” Even if his main objections to the offer were due to pride and a desire to be alone with his thoughts, he soothed his conscience with the knowledge that at least there had been a sliver of truth to his protest.

“I insist,” the woman said, “I’d feel terrible leaving you out in weather like this, knowing you were ill and worrying if you were going to become worse. Besides, you’re a member of His Majesties’ Navy. It would be quite the feather in my cap if I could tell the ladies at the next salon that I assisted one of the heroes of our war with Bonaparte, even if it was in a minor way.”

Hornblower actually smiled wryly at that. And since he now had the distinct impression that she wouldn’t take “no” for an answer, he decided that it was best to acquiesce. “If my riding in your carriage will be such a boon to you as well as myself, then I suppose we should both take advantage of it,” he said, giving her a bow, “Thank you very much for your kindness.”

The woman smiled at him, immediately pushing open the carriage door. “Kindness, perhaps, but I’ll freely admit to enjoying the benefits of an act that should be done entirely selflessly. But then, that’s often the way of human nature, isn’t it?”

Hornblower managed a chuckle, even as her words caused his heart to clench painfully. He settled himself down on the seat opposite the woman, appreciating the carriage’s relative warmth, soft cushioning, and the deep red cloth lining the walls. “Where shall we drop you?” the woman asked him once he finally looked back at her.

“I’m staying at the Nettle and Castle,” Hornblower responded, “I believe we’re only three blocks away from it.”

The woman nodded and quickly relayed the location to her driver. As the carriage began to move forward, she said “And now that that’s settled, may I know who I have the honor of sharing my carriage with?”

“Hornblower,” Hornblower said, before remembering the proper forms of address and quickly adding “Lord Hornblower, Commodore of His Majesties’ Navy.”

Instead of offering her name or her hand in return, the woman tilted her head, looking at him curiously. Hornblower initially thought it was due to her being surprised by his name, or possibly his title, but then a flash of recognition crossed her face, followed by, inexplicably, a smile that was undeniably mischievous. Before Hornblower could say anything, his nose prickled again, and he quickly retrieved a handkerchief. “Eh-kshhhtt!!”

“Bless you.” the woman said, a strange note of contentment in her voice. She waited until Hornblower had lowered the handkerchief and was looking at her again, and then she leaned forward and said;

“Forgive my being forward, Lord Hornblower, but I have to satisfy my curiosity. Are you, perchance, the same Hornblower who was on half-pay in Portsmouth during our temporary peace with Bonaparte at the turn of the century? The same Hornblower who, perhaps, was approached by a woman on Valentine’s Day and invited to her home?”

The combination of surprise and the fog from his cold meant that it took a few moments for Hornblower to fully comprehend what she was asking. When he did comprehend it, his eyes widened in astonishment. He hadn’t thought of that incident in years, much less spoke of it to anyone. The only other person who would know of it was...

“Miss Elise?” he said, looking at her more intently. Now that the memories had returned to him, it didn’t take him long to recognize the young courtesan who he’d spent a decidedly unusual afternoon with. And now that he recognized her, he started to suspect that it had been more than kindness and a desire to impress her friends that had caused her to offer him a seat in her carriage.

The woman laughed. “I was Miss Elise Bell,” she acknowledged, “But nowadays, I’m known as Lady Vesh.”

Hornblower cast his mind through the various society names he’d encountered since gaining his title. He couldn’t place the name at first, but then it came to him in a flash and he found himself blinking in surprise. “Then...you’re married to Colonel Roger Vesh?”

Lady Vesh smiled in satisfaction. “The King made him a baronet in thanks for his services during the war. It’s not a grand title, but I get to use the epithet ‘lady’, and that’s more than enough to give me a proper feeling of respectability.” She smiled fondly at him, gesturing at the ribbons on his coat. “And it seems we’ve both ended up improving our circumstances since our last meeting.”

Hornblower remained astonished, and was sure he wasn’t hiding it. He’d always been under the impression that courtesans were caught between worlds, that they were tolerated by polite society but could never be fully accepted. To learn that one had married a respected and respectable military man was...unexpected, to say the least. Part of him was curious as to how she had managed such a feat, but he was both afraid of giving offense and uncertain if he truly wanted to know. It seemed, however, that Lady Vesh was aware of his thoughts, because she shook her head at him with a knowing fondness. “Speak your mind, my lord. If anyone is entitled to know more about me, it’s one of my former visitors.”

Hornblower hesitated for a moment longer, then decided to ask what was probably the most pertinent question. “Does your husband know about...your past?”

“Of course he does,” Lady Vesh said, “How do you think we met?” Her eyes glittered almost wickedly as she added “In fact, I met him the same way I met you; he was the soldier I chose to approach on Valentine’s Day in 1808.”

The answer was obvious now that Hornblower considered it, but it still seemed unbelievable to him. As he was casting his mind about to figure out the next question to ask, he felt the urge to sneeze again, and brought the handkerchief back to his face. “Ep-tschhh!!”

“Bless you,” Lady Vesh said, “Have you had that cold long?”

“About four days,” Hornblower replied, rubbing at his nose, “Though with this weather, it may linger for longer than the usual week.”

“Especially if you continue to walk everywhere, rather than using the carriage that I’m quite sure you must possess.” Lady Vesh said.

Her tone was teasing and her smile was pleasant, but he could see her looking him over carefully, apparently trying to determine why a man in his position would willingly put himself in such a situation. Clearing his throat, he quickly tried to divert the subject. “It’s certainly not as fine a carriage as this one. Colonel Vesh must have done quite well for himself to be able to purchase and maintain something like this.”

“Oh yes, it was quite the combination of skill and luck that allowed him to both advance in the ranks and earn a decent amount of coin,” Lady Vesh said, “No doubt much like your own successes. But while those stories are worth telling, they cannot be told during a short carriage ride.”

She reached up above her head, knocking on the roof of the carriage twice before opening the small hatch that allowed her to speak to her driver. “Change of plans, Peter,” she said, “Take us back to the house. I believe Lord Hornblower and I have some catching up to do.” She looked back at Hornblower then, “Unless you have more urgent business to attend to.”

Hornblower was startled by the action, although he supposed it was in keeping with all he’d seen of Lady Vesh, both now and back when they’d first met. “I...no, I don’t. But are you sure that it’s wise for me to come to your home? That is to say...I doubt your husband would appreciate a reminder of your past life, even though our interaction back then was entirely platonic.”

“You needn’t concern yourself on that front,” Lady Vesh said, leaning back against her seat, “As Roger is currently out in the country, visiting with various army friends. And if you fear a risk to our reputations, there’s no reason to worry about that either, for a variety of reasons. First, I intend for our meeting to play out the same way as it did when we first met, with nothing passing between us other than my enjoyment of your sneezing. Second, should any of my neighbors see you entering my house, they will most likely assume that I’m entertaining you on behalf of my husband, given that you’re both military men. Third, we will spend your visit entirely in my drawing room, the doors open so that the servants can see that there is nothing untoward going on. And fourth, Roger, naturally, is well aware of my penchant for sneezing, and allows me to indulge in it as long as I remain faithful to him. He will be informed of our meeting once he returns, and between that and the reports of the servants, he will be satisfied, and not think less of any of us. If you need further reassurances, I won’t tell him your name, instead referring to you as ‘a sailor I met during one of my Valentine’s Day outings.’ Is all of that acceptable to you, my lord?”

While her words did put Hornblower’s mind at ease, he was still prepared to decline her offer and ask that she drop him at his inn, as planned. But as he prepared to speak, a series of thoughts flashed through his mind, one after the other.

Why not accept her offer? It will be a better distraction than reading or catching up on correspondence back at the inn, and perhaps this will lead to both social and military connections that could serve you well.

No. It was that boredom that led to me to return to France to visit with Marie, and that only led to tragedy and my current rift with Barbara. And I don’t know if I trust myself to not make the same mistake again.

Test yourself, Hornblower. Lady Vesh gave her word that things would remain innocent, and given what happened when you first met, she seems like she’ll honor what she said. Therefore, it will all rest on you, and no matter how it plays out, you’ll have your answer for what to do regarding Barbara. If things turn romantic, then you deserve the scorn and shame. But if they don’t...well then, perhaps there’s still hope for you.

It almost seemed as if that last thought was said with a voice that wasn’t his own, a voice that was no-nonsense but still pleasant, especially when it was in good humor. A voice Hornblower knew all too well, but that he knew he’d never hear properly again. Hearing it now caused his heart to ache, but it was enough to help him make up his mind. With a slow exhale, he met her eyes and said;

“Yes, Lady Vesh. I believe that will be satisfactory.”

“Excellent!” Lady Vesh said, giving him a delighted smile before looking back up at Peter, “To the house, then, if you please, Peter.”

Closing the hatch, she turned her full attention back to Hornblower. “We should arrive at my home in around ten minutes, though the rain may slow us down somewhat. In the meantime, would you like to continue to inquire about my life, speak more about your own exploits, or talk about completely inconsequential matters?”

“I...think we had better keep to more innocuous topics for the time being,” Hornblower said, “I don’t think either one of us wishes to be interrupted by the carriage stopping, particularly if the story being told is particularly enthralling.”

“You raise an excellent point,” Lady Vesh said with a satisfied nod, “In that case, what’s your opinion on the likelihood of getting into another war with the Americans? Roger believes they’re eager to prove themselves and will most likely do so by trying to expand into Canada, but I believe they’ll leave us alone unless we provoke them. Given that our last conflict with them was mostly fought at sea, your perspective may be enough for us to settle the debate once and for all.”

Though Hornblower hadn’t ever battled with an American ship, he’d read enough gazettes and engaged in enough conversation among other naval officers that he felt that he could answer her question without feeling like a charlatan. He became so engrossed in the discussion, in fact, that he almost forgot about both his illness and the odd situation he found himself in. It wasn’t until Lady Vesh picked up her bag from the seat beside her and reached for the carriage door that he realized that they’d arrived, at which point his uncertainties all came rushing back. But he didn’t wish to back out now and risk offending his hostess, so he took as deep a breath as he was able and stepped down from the carriage first before helping Lady Vesh down, wanting to at least have the vague appearance of being a gentleman.

Lady Vesh’s house turned out to be fairly small, but the inside was quite cozy and pleasantly decorated, with only a few touches (a pistol on a plaque on the wall, a clock that was just a little too ornate) that called attention to the previous professions of its occupants. Hornblower only had a few seconds to observe all this, however; the brief time he’d spent outside had set his nose running, which turned into a sneeze shortly thereafter. “Hup-teshhh!!”

“Bless you.” said Lady Vesh, glancing over her shoulder at him briefly before addressing the servant who approached them, looking at Hornblower with what could best be described as dispassionate curiosity. “I ran into an old friend on the way back from Lady Erin’s recital, Harrison,” she said, removing her cloak and handing it to the man, “And as you can see, he’s not entirely well. Light the fire in my drawing room and pull a table and chairs closer to the hearth, and you’d better have Miriam make us something hot to drink.” Turning to Hornblower, she asked, “Do you prefer tea or coffee, my lord?”

Despite his self-consciousness, Hornblower decided to answer honestly. “Coffee, milady.”

“Tell Miriam to make it coffee, then,” Lady Vesh said to Harrison, “And get her to make it as hot and as rich as she possibly can.”

Harrison nodded. “Of course, my lady.” Then he looked over at Hornblower. “Shall I take your cloak, sir?”

“Er...” Hornblower hesitated, then said, “No. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying, so it’s probably best to keep it with me.”

“As you wish, sir.” Harrison said, bowing slightly before moving away. As soon as he’d disappeared from view, Lady Vesh turned her full attention to Hornblower.

“While we wait for everything to be set up in the drawing room, we should decide how we’d like to proceed. Do you want to just talk, or would you rather our conversation be mixed in with a few games of cards?”

“I...believe I’d enjoy the cards,” Hornblower said, remembering the sort of peace he’d felt in the carriage and hoping that he could achieve a similar effect if he had something else to focus his attention on, “Will it be a friendly game, or do you wish to play for money?”

“While I do prefer there be some stakes in my card games, it doesn’t feel right to ask you to wager money when we haven’t seen each other in years. So allow me to offer an alternative; for every hand you win, I’ll provide you with a new treat from my cook, which will allow you to save money on your dinner tonight. And for every hand I win...” she gave him another one of her mischievous smiles, “...you coax out a sneeze for me.”

Hornblower immediately felt his face flush. “Lady Vesh, I’m not sure if that’s...”

“‘Proper?’” Lady Vesh finished for him, “Of course it isn’t. But despite my new position in life, I’ve never been a proper lady. And since you’re one of the small circle of people who know about my particular interest, I’d like to take advantage of it. But if you’d rather not, I’ll content myself with the occasional sneeze brought on by your cold, and we can play for whatever stakes you wish.”

For a moment, Hornblower was prepared to take the escape that she was offering him. But then he realized that he had already started down an odd, improper path when he’d agreed to return to Lady Vesh’s home. And having committed to this path, he may as well see it through to the end. Nevertheless, he felt compelled to ask a question for the sake of his conscience.

“You’re certain your husband won’t object to this when you tell him of our meeting?”

“Quite certain,” Lady Vesh said, “If anything, he’ll press for more details, the better to...well, let’s just say that the retelling may make our reunion much more passionate.”

Hornblower went red once more, but took a deep breath and nodded. “Well then, if that is the case...I accept your stakes. But how do you suggest I cause myself to sneeze?”

“I can offer up a few options,” Lady Vesh said, her face becoming more expressive as she warmed to the theme, “A quill is generally fairly effective, I’ve found. And I always keep a full snuffbox in the house, ostensibly for those who wish to partake in it but primarily for my own amusement. Or, for old time’s sake, you could uncork a bottle of my perfume. I think I’ve used up the bottle that I had when we first met, but perhaps one of my other scents will have a similar effect.”

“Perhaps,” Hornblower acknowledged, and surprised himself by smiling a little, “But if memory serves, the perfume caused me to sneeze multiple times, and it doesn’t seem fair that I suffer through a fit just for losing one hand. I believe the snuff will be sufficient for our purposes.”

“Excellent,” Lady Vesh said, lightly clapping her hands together, “I can assure you that the snuff is of the highest quality, ground down into the finest powder. Even experienced snuff takers find themselves sneezing from it, although they admit it’s worth it for how clear it makes their heads afterwards. Something I’m sure you won’t object to at the moment, either.”

As Hornblower blushed once more (but nodded nevertheless), Harrison returned to inform them that the drawing room had been prepared. Lady Vesh immediately led him down the hall to a room that was a touch more opulent than the main hall, but still had a welcoming air. “Sit there while I fetch the cards and the snuffbox,” Lady Vesh said, gesturing to the seat that was closest to the fire, “And drape your cloak over the back of the chair to dry it off. With any luck, it will retain enough warmth to keep you comfortable on the ride back to your inn.”

Hornblower did as instructed, and despite his internal discomfort, he had to admit that both the heat of the fire and the softness of the chair were both welcome and pleasurable. He allowed himself a slight sigh as he settled himself in the chair, feeling just a little of the tension leave his back. And even when Lady Vesh reappeared, holding both a deck of cards and a silver tin, his heart gave a nervous leap but his body remained relaxed. Perhaps it was a sign that he was a bit more receptive to this than he’d initially thought.

Just as Lady Vesh was dealing the cards, Harrison arrived with the coffee. Lady Vesh poured Hornblower a cup and urged him to drink while she passed on some instructions to her cook. Hornblower did so, pleased to find that the coffee had a noticeably rich flavor. Either he was starting to regain his sense of smell, or the coffee was so strong that it could cut through even the worst congestion. Once Harrison had gone, Lady Vesh picked up her cards, flipped open the lid of the snuffbox, and gave Hornblower a grin. “Shall we begin?”

Hornblower’s heart had another faint flutter of wariness, but he did his best to smile back. “Whenever you’re ready, Lady Vesh.”

Lady Vesh dealt the cards with a practiced hand, and the two of them began a game of Ecarte. As they played, Lady Vesh began to regale Hornblower with the tale of her life. She must have guessed that he wasn’t one for the more scandalous details, because she didn’t speak much of her conquests, preferring to focus on how she came to be Lady Vesh. It seemed that after her first encounter with Colonel Vesh (though he was just a Captain at the time), he’d asked if he could keep up a correspondence with her, as he’d been enthralled by her charms and her worldliness (“A worldliness that wasn’t entirely as grand as he thought it was.”, she confessed with a rueful smile). She’d agreed, assuming it would be a brief infatuation that would taper off once he’d returned to the battlefield.

Instead, he’d taken the time to write to her once a month, giving her news of the war and occasionally admitting to his fears about the responsibilities of command. She’d been flattered by both his persistence and his openness with her, and wrote back, offering reassurances, a few pieces of advice, and some of her more lighthearted exploits in order to cheer him up. They kept this up for two years, and then, unexpectedly, he appeared at her doorstep, now sporting three medals on his chest and offering her a magnificent silver brooch he’d acquired during his time in Spain. He was on leave for ten days, and he went out of his way to spend at least a few hours of all ten of those days with her. She’d been touched by his attentiveness, especially when he’d revealed a second gift—a feather quill that he’d carefully preserved in his bag, just so that she could use it on his nose. By the end of his leave, she realized that she was starting to develop romantic feelings for him, a fact that was reflected in both the content and the increased frequency of her letters. He said that he returned her feelings, but she was sure that her position meant that she was destined to be nothing more than his mistress.

But when he returned for another leave two years later, his very first action upon entering her home was to ask her to marry him. They stayed up all that night discussing whether or not they were truly prepared to take such a step, and despite Lady Vesh’s hesitation, the now Lieutenant Colonel made some persuasive arguments. By the time the sun was starting to rise, the two of them were in her carriage, on their way to find someone who would marry them quickly and discreetly. The rest of his leave doubled as their honeymoon, and when he left to return to the battlefield, Lady Vesh wasted no time in making arrangements to sell off her home and most of the other spoils of her conquests, using the proceeds to purchase and furnish a new home in London, one better suited to a military man and his (on the surface, at least) respectable wife. While there were at least half-a-dozen nobles and a handful of soldiers and sailors who knew about her previous profession, she trusted them to keep their silence, mostly for the sake of propriety. And since she’d operated out of Portsmouth, it made the polite fiction that she was a wealthy merchant’s daughter that much easier to maintain. Then, of course, Colonel Vesh became a baronet, allowing her to mingle in society with much less scrutiny. “I’d like to say that I’ve remained the picture of respectability ever since,” she concluded with a laugh, “But I’m afraid I’ve kept a streak of my old irreverence and an enjoyment of mischief that means I’ll probably never be fully accepted amongst the gentry. But they tolerate my presence, and I’ve found a good number of people who accept my eccentricities, and that is more than enough for me.”

Over the course of this retelling, Hornblower hadn’t been able to stop himself from sneezing at least half-a-dozen times. He’d attempted to apologize the first time it happened, only for Lady Vesh to immediately wave her hand in dismissal. “Your politeness is appreciated, but unnecessary,” she’d said with a sly smile and a gleam in her eye, “This is one interruption I’m more than happy to forgive.” Hornblower had turned red, naturally, but obligingly did nothing more than cover his subsequent sneezes and give her a nod to encourage her to continue. And of course, they’d continued to play cards as she spoke, getting through three games by the time she was finished. Lady Vesh won the first two thanks to her familiarity with the game, and as promised, Hornblower reached over and took a pinch of snuff the moment she produced her winning hand. He had some familiarity with the stuff, and while he didn’t take it regularly, he’d learned the proper way to sniff it to ensure that he wouldn’t sneeze. Knowing that that was the exact opposite of what Lady Vesh wanted, however, he deliberately took a deep breath when he sniffed up the powder, pulling it to the back of his nose. This produced a stronger, louder sneeze from him, but while he did feel slightly embarrassed by it, he couldn’t bring himself to feel as self-conscious as he might have in other circumstances. For one thing, the satisfied expression on Lady Vesh’s face was was enough to tell him that the sound was pleasant rather than irritating to her. And for another, it appeared that there was some truth to the claims that snuff was good for clearing the head, as his nose felt significantly less blocked after expelling the snuff from his system.

By contrast, on the occasion when Hornblower was the victor, Lady Vesh called for Harrison, who returned with a small plate of toasted bread topped with some sort of vegetable paste. The taste was earthy but pleasant, and while Hornblower was positive that he’d eaten with the utmost decorum, he was surprised to look down not ten minutes later to discover that the plate was empty. Thankfully, Lady Vesh didn't call direct attention to it, instead merely nodding in approval before starting to shuffle the deck once more. “I believe that about covers the major events in my life since we last met,” she said said as she slid the cards over for him to deal the next hand, “And what of yourself, Lord Hornblower? What grand adventures have you gone on to lead you to becoming a Commodore, a Lord, and the brother-in-law of Lord Wellington?”

As Hornblower looked at her in surprise, she smiled and said, “You recognized my husband’s name merely by your familiarity with the various military officers who served in the war against Bonaparte. Do you really think that someone who actually served under Wellington wouldn’t have been made aware of the match his superior’s sister had made? In fact, when he reported your marriage to me, I recalled our first meeting and concluded that you must be the same man, for I doubted there were two Navy men with the name of Hornblower.” She smiled and settled herself back in her seat. “So please, enthrall me with your noble deeds.”

Hornblower hesitated, uncertain where to begin, or even how much he felt comfortable telling (to say nothing of his deeds being called “noble”). Apparently noticing this, Lady Vesh gave him an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you start by telling me about one of your more spectacular battles?” she said, “I always enjoy a good vicarious thrill.”

After another moment’s consideration, Hornblower started to deal the cards as he told her about his fight with the Natividad, the battle which had won him a fair amount of renown. Lady Vesh was an excellent listener, only speaking up to make an impressed exclamation or to encourage him to continue (and of course, to bless him on occasion). Hornblower soon found that it was easiest to turn most of his attention to the card game, allowing his mind to recall the memories while his mouth dutifully reported them. When he finished the story of the Natividad, Lady Vesh convinced him to tell another tale, and he detailed his exploits in Russia. In the course of doing so, they got through two more games, both of which he won. Keeping her word, Lady Vesh had two more plates of food brought up, one a dish containing bites of meat, the other an alcohol soaked fruit. Caught up in the retelling and the game, he didn't fully absorb the taste, but he also found no fault with them, and ended up finishing off both plates. Between the food, the cards, and the warmth, he'd almost completely forgotten the odd situation he'd found himself in.

As he reached the end of the second tale, Lady Vesh gathered up the cards and shuffled them in preparation for another hand. “It seems to me like your new title was richly deserved,” she said with a smile, “My congratulations on multiple jobs well done.”

Hornblower lowered his head modestly. “I merely did what was best for the mission. Though I am grateful that the Admiralty and Parliament agreed enough to reward me.”

“I'm certain Lady Hornblower agrees,” Lady Vesh said, as she dealt the cards once more, “No doubt she enjoys the chance to bask in the triumphs of both her husband and her brother.”

“I wouldn't know,” Hornblower said vaguely, caught up in examining his hand and not fully considering his statement, “We haven’t spoken much for two months.”

Realization struck him a moment too late, but there wasn’t any way to take the words back. Lifting his head, he saw that Lady Vesh’s eyes were glinting with surprise and curiosity, but she otherwise admirably maintained her composure. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said at last, “But I’m sure you both miss each other terribly. Once you’ve completed your business here, perhaps you’ll finally be able to spend some time together again.”

“Perhaps,” Hornblower said, feeling another stab of shame and letting his eyes drift away from hers, “I certainly would like that to be the case.”

Silence fell for a moment. Then he saw Lady Vesh's hands firmly set her cards down on the table. “Forgive my bluntness, Lord Hornblower, but it's obvious that this situation with your wife is weighing on you. I imagine that's why I found you out in the rain as well. As your hostess—and, perhaps, as a friend—I wish to do everything I can to assist you in this matter. Would you be willing to talk about it with me?”

Hornblower immediately looked back at her in surprise. She was looking at him blandly, her expression open and honest. “If you're worried that I intend to use this as gossip fodder, don't be,” she continued, “I learned very early on in my former career that discretion was one of the most useful tools one can possess. You have my word that I will not repeat what you say to anyone, not even Roger.”

Hornblower hesitated. He did trust her to keep her word, but actually speaking of his circumstances aloud would open him up to judgment, to say nothing of deepening his shame. “I...” he started, then trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

Lady Vesh gave an understanding nod, and he suddenly wondered how many times she had had a conversation like this with one of her lovers. “I understand if it’s something you’d rather keep to yourself, despite my assurances,” she said, “Let me say one last thing, and then I’ll speak no more on the subject. Sometimes, when something is troubling you, the best cure is to talk about it with someone, ideally someone who can offer a neutral opinion. That way, you can hear a different perspective on the issue, and perhaps find a solution you hadn’t even considered.”

It was sound advice, and if there was anyone who might know how to fix the damage done between himself and Barbara, it would be her. After clearing his throat, Hornblower started his sentence again. “I...suppose now is as good a time as any to test that theory,” he said, “But I ask that you give me a few minutes to properly phrase things.”

“Take all the time you need,” Lady Vesh responded, “As they say, patience is a virtue, and I welcome the opportunity to practice it.”

Hornblower closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths as he tried to both find the best words and steel himself for this unorthodox confession. Then he took a large swallow of coffee, hoping the energy it gave him would somehow make it easier for him to speak. While he did appreciate the warmth that pooled in his stomach, the steam from the cup was enough to irritate his nose, forcing him to grab for his handkerchief. “Het-tschhh!”

As he sneezed, something seemed to shift inside him, an urge to clear the tightness in his chest the same way the sneeze had cleared out his nose. The feelings may have been temporary in both cases, but at least he had a chance of being granted a momentary relief. And so, before Lady Vesh could even move to bless him, he started to talk.

He’d thought he’d try to keep things as brief and vague as he could, giving Lady Vesh just enough detail for her to grasp the situation. But instead, perhaps spurred by that desire to expel his discomfort, he ended up telling her everything, from how he’d first met Marie to his decision to visit her and rekindle their affair while Barbara had been playing hostess for the first set of peace talks after Bonaparte’s defeat to how she’d ended up dying in his arms. As before, there came a point where he wasn’t even consciously aware of speaking, too caught up in the memories and the emotions that came with them; indeed, it almost felt like he was reliving them rather than recalling them. If Lady Vesh was speaking (and dimly, in the back of his mind, he didn’t think that she was), he was completely oblivious to it.

“...When I returned to England, I was too ashamed to face my wife directly,” he concluded, “But I made certain to write to her and tell her what had happened. We’ve sent each other a few letters since then, brushing up against my actions but never directly addressing them. I've done my best to make it clear that I deeply regret my behavior and that I will remain her loyal husband from here on out if she'll consent to take me back. For her part, she's given me some hope that she'll forgive me in time, but we've mutually agreed that we'll remain apart until our thoughts and feelings have settled. Spending time in Portsmouth and London on Naval matters provided the perfect excuse to keep me away, but almost all important business has now been attended to. The time is coming when we need to decide our future together, and I'm not sure I know how best to proceed.”

Lady Vesh was silent for quite some time, though Hornblower was relieved that there was no sign of either pity or the gossip’s eagerness on her face. When she did finally speak, however, he was taken aback by her words.

“Forgive me, my lord, but I think there’s a deeper concern at play than reconciling with your wife.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Hornblower said, unable to stop the irritation from creeping into his voice.

“Meaning that I while I only have two encounters with you and the stories you’ve told to go on, you don’t strike me as the type who would run to the arms of another woman merely because his wife is currently unavailable,” Lady Vesh said, folding her hands on her lap, “Had something else happened between you and Lady Hornblower before she told you she was going to oversee the peace talks?”

“Not that I can recall,” Hornblower said, “Though I must admit, while I did appreciate her company during our time at Le Havre, there was a part of me that resented her as well. She was a distraction—albeit a welcome one at times—from my duties, and it made me that much more aware of my actions, not wanting to look foolish in front of her. Or worse, if something had gone poorly enough to warrant an inquiry, I didn’t want my failure to be blamed on her presence.”

“Why would you be so concerned about failure?” Lady Vesh asked, “From what you’ve said, the war was all but over by the time you took control of Le Havre. That’s presumably why Lady Hornblower came to join you. Were you still stinging from a recent setback when she arrived? Perhaps that caused you to transfer your resentment onto her, and made you much more receptive to the idea of spending time with a woman who didn’t have that connection in your mind.”

And that’s when Hornblower recognized the central piece of the puzzle, the one event that had truly precipitated this entire situation. It really did explain everything—his concern over failing at his governorship duties, his distance from Barbara, even why he’d sought out Marie. The shock of understanding was quickly replaced by a swell of grief and shame, and the word slipped from his lips almost involuntarily.

“Bush.”

“Come again?” Lady Vesh said, though her surprise was tempered by her soft tone, suggesting she had at least an inkling of the truth.

Hornblower swallowed, rubbing at his nose as a pretext to wipe away the tears that had appeared at the corners of his eyes. “William Bush,” he explained, “We’d served together ever since I was a Lieutenant. When I became a Commodore, I didn’t even hesitate to appoint him as the Commander of my flagship. One couldn’t ask for a better officer.”

He knew what Lady Vesh wanted to ask, knew without looking at her that she was leaning forward, curious to know more but not wanting to press in case the wound was too deep. It was that restraint that made him willing to take her into his confidence, even as his heart throbbed and his breath caught in his throat.

“Shortly after taking control of Le Havre...I sent Bush out to the nearby town of Caudebec to destroy Bonaparte’s troops, which were gathering to retake Le Havre. The mission was a success, but several of our boats were blown to pieces. Including the one Bush was on. As far as I know, there wasn't even a body left to bury.”

Lady Vesh leaned towards him, stretching out her hand and hovering it over his own, giving him an inquiring glance. He swallowed, then nodded, and she lightly rested it on his knuckles. He took as deep a breath as he could around the tightness in his throat and continued.

“I tell myself that it was an important mission, that we'd have suffered more losses if Bonaparte's troops had reached Le Havre. But to lose such a fine officer—more than that, a friend—in the last days of the war...it haunts me more than any other decision I've made in my twenty-two years of service.”

Lady Vesh pressed down gently on his hand. “While this is small comfort, I'm sure he felt it was a worthy sacrifice. And I have no doubt that you gave him a fitting eulogy afterwards.”

Hornblower winced. “While I did promise myself that I'd someday commission a monument to Bush's sacrifice, I'm afraid I failed him there as well. I had my duties as military governor to focus on, and then Barbara arrived at Le Havre, and then before I knew it, the war was over, and Barbara had been asked to play hostess at the peace talks.” He took another deep breath, hating the wet sniffle that accompanied it, and forced himself to speak his suspicions aloud. “Perhaps...perhaps my irritation at Barbara and my subsequent return to Marie was due to my inability to fully accept Bush's death, and then in turn to properly grieve for him.”

Lady Vesh nodded slowly, looking at him sympathetically. Then her expression changed to something more thoughtful before she abruptly rose to her feet. “Excuse me for a moment, my lord.”

She then proceeded to walk out of the room with no further explanation. Hornblower was puzzled, but was overall grateful for a bit of solitude. He could still feel that tightness in his throat and chest, as well as a stinging in his eyes, and he hoped that some slow breaths, a sip of coffee, and a bit of rubbing at his eyes would allow him to compose himself. He proceeded to carry out those plans, and had just set his cup back in the saucer when Lady Vesh returned. “My apologies,” she said, crossing behind his chair and standing before the fire, “Your tale sparked something in my mind, and I wanted to make a note to myself so I wouldn't forget.”

As Hornblower turned to respond to her, his nose prickled again. This time, however, it felt much stronger, and a moment later, he realized why. While she had been gone, Lady Vesh had sprayed herself with perfume, and while he was near positive it was a different scent to the one she'd worn at their first meeting, it was strong enough to cause a similar reaction. Just as he felt a flash of anger that she would indulge herself in a moment like this, he caught sight of her expression. There was no sly smile on her face, no eager gleam in her eyes; she just gave a slow nod and brushed her fingers across her cheek as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, passing them underneath her eye. Hornblower's eyes widened, his heart clenched, and then the sneezing began.

“Heh…Heh-ksshhhh! Ih-hihsshhh! Ha-ptschhhh!”

With each sneeze, tears were forced out of his eyes, making their way down his cheeks. He made no move to wipe them away, however, too overwhelmed by both the sneezing and the feelings swirling inside of him. “At-chshhhh! Et-sheeew! Ep-tchieeew! Huh-tishhhooo!”

The itch subsided long enough for him to take a breath, which caught and shuddered, and the then he sneezed a final time, with a little more force than he was accustomed to. “Heh-ESHHHH!!!”

Although the sneeze removed the worst of the itch, the strength of it, combined with the intensity of the fit that had preceded it, left him with a sore chest and streaming eyes, and it took several heaving, wet breaths and numerous wipes at his face for him to regain his equilibrium. When he finally was able to raise his head, he saw Lady Vesh sitting across from him once more, playing idly with the deck of cards. “Forgive me, my lord,” she said, glancing up at him, “I decided to reapply a bit of perfume while I was making my note, as I believed the rain had washed it off my wrists. I tried to keep it light to avoid a repeat of our first meeting, but...”

“It's...it's all right,” Hornblower said hoarsely, reaching for his teacup, “I know you meant no offense. And I apologize in turn for such a ungentlemanly display. Despite your interest in sneezing, it must have been most unseemly to witness.”

“Perhaps it was,” Lady Vesh said with a shrug, “But the moment I realized my perfume was irritating you, I hurried out of the room to allow you some fresh air and to wash the scent from my hands. By the time I had returned, you had finished sneezing, and I kept silent to give you the proper time to recover.”

Hornblower's heart clenched again, but this time, it was accompanied by a swell of gratitude. “Thank you.” he said softly, wanting to say more but unsure he could find the words.

Lady Vesh just smiled, reaching out and brushing his hand as he moved to set the teacup down. “Think nothing of it.” Then she straightened up and began actively shuffling the cards. “I believe it will be another hour or two before dinner is served. Would you like to play another hand, or has the time come for us to go our separate ways?”

Hornblower considered. “While I would appreciate the distraction, it might be best if I returned to my lodgings,” he said at last, “I've been given a lot to think about, and I should probably do so while the ideas are fresh in my mind.”

Lady Vesh nodded. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to accompany you back to your inn,” she said, “As I have some letters I must attend to. But I’ll instruct Peter to take you there; it looks like the rain has stopped for now, but there’s no guarantee it won’t start up again during your trip back. And I'm not about to be responsible for making your cold worse, especially if I'm not there to enjoy the results of it.”

To his surprise, Hornblower found himself smiling wryly at her statement. “I appreciate that,” he said, getting to his feet, “Thank you for your consideration.”

“Not at all,” Lady Vesh responded, rising as well, “If anything, I should be thanking you for your indulgence.”

The two of them made their way back to the hall, where Lady Vesh sent Harrison to have the carriage prepared. As they waited, Hornblower made the appropriate farewells. “Thank you once again for your hospitality. Please give my regards to Colonel Vesh.”

“I shall,” she assured him, “I suspect he'll be disappointed he didn't get a chance to meet you and exchange stories of battle. But perhaps we’ll meet again at some sort of military event—I suspect there will be quite a few of those in the years to come to celebrate the 'glory days'.”

“More than likely,” Hornblower agreed, “It will give us something to do when we grow too old to fight.”

He hesitated for a moment, then took her hand and bent over it. As he did so, he deliberately breathed in; while Lady Vesh really had washed away the scent on her wrist, he could still catch a little of the smell. That, combined with his cold, was enough to trigger another sneeze, which he quickly caught in a handkerchief. “Hitshhh!”

Lady Vesh promptly blessed him, a glint in her eyes as she gave him a knowing smile. He nodded at her, giving her a faint smile back. “Until we meet again, my lady.”

He gave a half-bow, she curtseyed, and then he took his leave, only having to wait for another minute until the carriage drew up before the door. Once he was settled in the seat and the horses had begun moving again, he began to consider the best course of action when it came to him and Barbara. Since he currently wasn't very hungry and now had no need to warm himself up from his journey, he would take advantage of this new clear-headedness and write a letter to her as soon as he returned to the inn. He would keep the tone as light as he could manage, mostly speaking about his activities in London, and while he wouldn’t make any apologies or excuses for his previous actions, he would attempt to convey that he missed her. Perhaps he'd even try to do a little shopping tomorrow and include a gift, some small token that he was reasonably sure she'd like. There was a chance she'd interpret it as an attempt to buy his way back into her good graces, but hopefully she'd see it for what it really was; that he was thinking of her.

As he started trying to compose the letter in his head, a thought gave him pause. Should he mention his meeting with Lady Vesh, or would it be best to keep it secret? After all, given some of the rumored escapades of her brother, Barbara might be one of those who knew of Lady Vesh’s former profession, and thus would think the worst about how he’d spent his time with her. But keeping his silence ran the risk of creating another rift between them if it came out at a later date. He pondered over this for a minute, then decided that he would keep the focus of his letter on the public events he’d attended. But if his first letter was well-received, then he would write a second letter, telling her about his encounter with Lady Vesh...including stating outright that she had once been a courtesan. While he wouldn’t reveal the lady’s interest in sneezing, he would talk about everything else that had occurred between them, including how she had helped him realize just how abhorrent his behavior had been. Perhaps such openness would allow Barbara to realize his sincerity, and make her more inclined to forgive him.

Hornblower nodded to himself, drawing his cloak a little tighter around himself and extracting a handkerchief just in case his cold started to act up again. Despite the lingering chill and congestion, he felt better than he had in months. He still could feel the weight of guilt, and he couldn't predict how Barbara would react to his overtures, but now he actually had some idea of how to proceed, and that was a comfort. And while he was waiting for a response to his letter, he now knew how to distract himself; by doing everything in his power to honor the sacrifice of one of the best men Hornblower had ever known.

Outside the carriage window, a break in the clouds revealed the setting sun, which made the entire sky look like it had been dipped in gold. While the rainy weather would most likely continue, the first sign had been given that the storm was passing. Perhaps by the time Hornblower left London, light, warmth, and peace would finally return, however briefly, to England's shores.