Most everyone said that Richard Hornblower took after his father. There certainly was no resemblance to his mother, Lady Barbara, and the blame had to be put somewhere. However, each look in the mirror reminded the young son of the great maritime hero, Admiral Horatio Hornblower, how false that was.
Richard did have his father's dark hair, though the elder's was rapidly lightening to silver. They had the same deep brown eyes, large and keen, but that was where the similarities ended. Richard was trim, because he maintained frequent exercise, but found during his years at Eaton that he could easily tend the other way. He matched Lady Barbara in height only just, but had to look up to his father. And while he did his best to imitate his father's stoic suppression of emotional displays, Richard's face betrayed nearly every thought with either a grin or a flush of crimson. It would take any opportunity to color; embarrassment, anger, exertion. This was a great annoyance to him, for there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
This morning found the reflection even less pleasing. Richard had just finished shaving, and, setting down the razor, he ran a hand over his jaw line. He glared at the face in the mirror, and it glared back with equal ferocity. There were dark patches under his blood shot eyes and his cheeks looked pale and hollow, quite unlike usual. Mother had said another day of this and she would call for a doctor, but Richard did not want to be poked and prodded by some condescending old man. He wanted rest, not these past sleepless nights tossing and turning amongst sweat soaked blankets, and he knew that would help him most. He also wanted peace and quiet, to return to Smallbridge and get out of this wretched, stinking city of London.
Richard turned away from the mirror with a groan and flopped back onto his bed. He ought to finish dressing and make an appearance at breakfast so Mother would stop her fussing. A glance toward the wardrobe instigated an irritating question. Should he ring for his valet? He was perfectly capable of dressing himself, but for once he didn't want to bother figuring out what the proper attire was for the day, as he would much prefer staying in his nightshirt and robe if at all possible. But again, Mother would surely have something to say about that. After the great effort of rousing himself and pulling the bell rope, it was not his valet who entered, but Brown, his father's steward (is that right?).
"How may I be of service, Master Richard?" Brown asked. His sea weathered face and hearty build set him apart from the rest of the household servants, but he acted the part quiet nicely.
"What the deuce are you doing here, Brown?" Richard said, brows furrowing. "Something the matter with Hentley?"
"He was called away by a family matter. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Yes, pull me something presentable out of the wardrobe, will you? Curse this condition of mine, I can't seem to do anything."
"Are you in need of a doctor-"
"No!" Richard snapped before Brown could finish. "I don't want a doctor, and I don't want Mother thinking I need one either, understand?"
"Aye aye, sir," Brown replied with a grin. For feeling as weak as a kitten, Richard was none the less spirited.
"How are Mother and Father this morning? Hale and hearty as ever, I presume?"
"The admiral and her ladyship are well."
"Curse them…. No, I don't mean that. I don't know what I mean." Richard gave a huff and fell back on the bed. Brown set a clean shirt, trousers, and waistcoat beside him.
"Would you like assistance dressing?" said Brown. Richard could see he was trying to be tactful. For a moment he considered rejecting the offer, but then gave a nod and sat up.
Then, taking advantage of the listening ear for the thought plaguing him, he spoke it aloud.
"Why am I so unlike either of my parents?"
Brown finished helping Richard into his shirt before he answered. "You are more like your father then you think, but I would say even more like your mother."
Richard turned to stare at the man. "Why that's rubbish! How can you see Lady Barbara and say that?"
"I am not speaking of Lady Barbara. I thought you knew…" Brown hesitated.
"What are you saying?" Richard grabbed his trousers from Brown's hands and tugged them on. "Do you imply Lady Barbara is not my mother?"
"I thought your father would have told you. It is not my place to say." Brown began to help with the waistcoat, but Richard snatched that from him too.
"And you will leave it at that?" he could feel his face grow hot with indignation.
"Speak to your father," Brown sighed, and took a step back. A slow smile spread over his face. "Seems your energy has returned, Master Richard."
Richard gave him a glare as his finished buttoning his waistcoat and stormed out of the room. "So it seems, Brown. So it seems."
The thought that Lady Barbara was not the woman who bore him was a startling shock to Richard, yet it made sense, in it's own way. She had always treated him like a son in the most caring manner, yet they were so different.
Richard entered the dining room where his parents sat, breakfast half eaten before them. He gave a curt nod to Lady Barbara, and she opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand.
"Father, I must speak with you." Richard's unusually clipped tone sent concerned expressions to both Lady Barbara and Admiral Hornblower's faces.
"Are you feeling well, dear?" Lady Barbara queried, setting down her teacup.
"No, but that is the least of my concerns at the moment. Father?"
"What is it Richard?" That confounded mask of self-control now hid his father's initial surprise, causing Richard's face to flush again.
He gritted his teeth and continued. "I need to speak with you in private, if it wouldn't be too much trouble." The way he ended it implied there very well might be trouble if his father wasn't willing. However, Admiral Hornblower stood up from his seat with a nod.
"Shall we go to the library?"
"Yes." Richard agreed and led the way out of the room. He could feel Lady Barbara's questioning gaze at his back, but walked without pause down the hall to the cozy privacy of the library.
"Is something the matter, Richard?" His father's question was void of emotion, yet there was something behind those dark eyes of his.
"You tell me, Father, when a very important bit of information is hid from someone, would you say that is wrong?"
"It depends on the reason for which the information is hid." The Admiral strode to the fireplace and stabbed at the embers with the poker.
"Maybe in a time of war, but what about in matters relating to family?" Richard watched his father carefully as the older man considered his reply.
"My answer would be the same."
Richard frowned. "Let me ask you another question then, and pardon my bluntness, but is Lady Barbara my mother?"
The mask slipped for a moment as Admiral Hornblower turned to face his son. Their gazes held for a moment, then the Admiral looked away.
"Lady Barbara loves you very deeply, and has always-"
"You know that is not what I am asking. Is she, or is she not?"
Admiral Hornblower squeezed his eyes closed. "Lady Barbara is not your birth mother, no. I was married before."
Richard sank into a velvet armchair and thought a moment before asking his next question.
"What happened to her?"
The Admiral did not answer at once, but recommenced poking at the fire. Richard had heard tell that his father was not a wealthy man before his marriage to Lady Barbara, which had boosted both fortune and position, but it was a time in his life he talked little about.
"I am afraid to say she died shortly after you were born. I was at sea at the time, but Barbara took you in-"
"You were acquainted with Lady Barbara while still married to my mother?" Richard's eyes narrowed.
Admiral Hornblower gave a sigh and took the chair opposite Richard. Leaning forward, hands resting on his knees, he began. "Her name was Maria," he said the name tenderly, yet with a hint of bitterness. "I rented a room from her mother, Mrs. Mason, in Portsmouth after my promotion to acting commander. However, I was demobilized directly after that and received no wages. Despite my penniless state, Maria cared for me more then anyone ever had. I had felt so alone during that period of my life; I honestly did not know what to do about her. There was no place for a wife and family in my life, yet how could I have rejected the love she so generously offered. If I would return to active duty, God knows if I would come back alive, but the thought that there would be someone to feel concern, or rejoice at my safe return was a pleasure I had never experienced. We were wed, against my better judgment, and the very day of the wedding I was called back to duty. We had one night together, and then I was off…"
Richard had never seen such emotion in his father's face, and he waited with rapt attention for him to continue.
The Admiral leaned back, straightening his shoulders. "Maria had none of Barbara's beauty. She was short, plain faced, and red-cheeked. She worried constantly over me while I was away, and I was with her so little. I cherished my time with her, yet my place was at sea. There were two children before you- a boy, Horatio, and a girl, Maria. The names were of her choosing, not mine. I had much too short a time with them; they were taken by smallpox while little Maria was yet a babe in arms. I still remember Maria's face when I returned home that night." A tear trailed down the weathered cheek, but his father quickly composed himself.
Richard had an elder brother and sister? He imagined a moment what it would have been like of they had lived. He had grown up an only child, and the thought of siblings seemed so foreign.
"Lady Barbara and I did meet while I was still married to Maria, however, that tale is for another day. How I regret the hours of thought I spent comparing the two, Barbara always seeming to win out in the end. Yet I did love Maria, more deeply then I ever could have imaged that day standing with her at the alter. And the sorrow I felt when I learned of her death-"
"Why were you not with her?" Richard stopped his father with the interjection.
"That is the life of a man in navy, Richard. I went when I was bid and stayed until my duty complete. I had no choice in the matter. Thankfully Barbara had made the acquaintance of Maria before that, and she took you in and appointed herself as your mother from that point on."
Admiral Hornblower, who from that point had been staring at the wall to the left of Richard, now met the eyes of his son.
"You are all I have left of her, yet that is a very difficult part of my past to remember. I never told you, because I did not think it was necessary, but now I see I was wrong. Will you forgive me?"
The thoughts swirling in Richard's head made him feel rather faint. That could also be caused by his lack of anything to eat or drink this morning, added to his blasted ill health. It all felt like rather too much, and he still felt a simmer of anger that his father told him nothing of this before. However, looking at his father, seeing the most earnestness and sincerity he had ever encountered in the man, made him swallow his own feelings.
"I do forgive you."
Relief washed over the Admiral's face. "Is there anything else you want to ask? I know this must come as quite a surprise."
"At the moment, no. I think I would like some time alone to think." Richard said slowly.
"Of course." The Admiral got to his feet and rapidly exited the room. Before his son could think of any more questions to ask, Richard mused. But he was glad to be alone, and as he sat staring into the dying flames in the hearth, an idea sprang to life.