A/N: My apologies for the long delay, and thanks to my kind reviewers. Hopefully I won't be as tardy in my next installment.
At dinner Horatio met the rest of the Kennedys that were currently in residence. Missing were Archie's eldest brother and sister. Both were married, but expected to be back in Town with their families by the end of the week to help celebrate Archie's birthday and new posting.
Archie's youngest brother, David, was not quite eight and only allowed to greet them before being sent back upstairs to the nursery. The little boy, dark haired and energetic, managed to extract a promise of a sword fighting lesson the next day, as a bribe for retiring without further protest.
Margaret, only a few years older, was a prim, quiet little girl, and allowed to sit at the table, across from their guest. Horatio found her silent gaze a bit unnerving, for she seemed far more self-possessed than he, and even knew exactly what to do with all the extra plates and utensils. He caught himself watching her for hints when he was uncertain which to use for what.
Robert, Archie's next eldest brother, was loud enough for two or three people. The sharp-featured young man seemed to have an interest in business. At least, most of what Robert talked about concerned money made or lost and the prices of stocks and shares. Fortunately, Robert ignored him after an initial lazy introduction, for it was all fairly incomprehensible to Horatio. The third Kennedy son spent most of the meal arguing across the table with John, or exhorting the earl to support some new scheme with mixed success. Horatio didn't mind being forgotten for pounds and pence, since he much preferred the conversation of Anne, who was seated at his other side.
She talked across the table with Archie about books and novels. Horatio knew nothing about most of these either, but his friend lit up at the subject with an enthusiasm that had been lacking most of the day. Archie's sister was interrogated at length about what she had been reading, and not reading. The answers would soon be put to use restocking the sea chest library, if Horatio was not mistaken, so he followed the conversation as best he could, to know what to look forward to.
Anne gave her opinions boldly, and surprised him with the breadth of her interests. She seemed familiar with military accounts and histories as much as the poetry and gothic romance he had thought most women kept to. Of course Horatio did not have much experience with women, only those he had met in passing through his father's practice, or at church when he had attended, and their few servants over the years. It was probably good that he was not expected to keep up his share of the talk, for he would no doubt have said something stupid. But none of the Kennedys troubled him too much.
The countess in particular required nothing more than that he fill his plate, then directed his neighbors to refill it periodically from those dishes he could not reach himself. Clearing the china again kept his mouth sufficiently occupied throughout the meal. The variety and presentation rivaled his and his father's finest Christmas dinners, with fish, fowl, and meat, puddings, and more vegetables than you would think could be found at the end of winter cluttering the long table. Watching Archie's face was almost more enjoyable than the food itself, for his friend broke off wrangling with Anne periodically to abandon senses to some new forkful, with eyes closed and a beatific smile.
"Have a little more of the sweet, Mr. Hornblower," the countess urged, just as Horatio was deciding that he was in danger of losing some waistcoat buttons. "It isn't healthy for a sailor to be so thin. You'll blow away in the first storm." Horatio flushed and Miss Kennedy quickly jumped in to defend him.
"Don't tease, mother. Mr. Hornblower fills out the uniform quite nicely," she gave him a little wink that worsened the heat he knew was burning his cheeks. "Whereas Archie is danger of turning into a barrel. By the time we send you back they'll probably have to roll you up the gangway onto the ship."
This seemed unfair. Even when they first met, Archie had been sturdy, not stout. His friend had lost weight in the weeks they'd know each other, and no wonder. But Archie didn't take offense at the raillery. "Don't be ridiculous, Anne." Kennedy reached across the table to steal a generous spoonful off Horatio's renewed plate. "Indefatigableis far too large to take into dock. They'll use the hoist."
"Manners, Archie," the countess scolded, rapping her son's knuckles with her own spoon. "This is not the gun deck mess."
"I'm just keeping Mr. Hornblower in practice, ma'am," Archie grinned. "He must be quick and determined if he wants to defend his plate from the predations of hungry fellow midshipmen." Kennedy briskly launched into a series of little vignettes on the theme of bullies stealing their food and drink. Some bore a passing resemblance to incidents Horatio recalled from Justinian. Each revealed a sly trick that might be used to avoid the theft, from spitting copiously in one's cup to using sleight of hand to hide the best of the meal in one's lap.
It was not, perhaps, the most polite of dinner conversations. But Archie carried it out with such comically exaggerated gestures that even somber little Margaret was giggling, and the ladies had to try hard to maintain their scandalized looks. Horatio found himself smiling too, despite how very serious the problem had lately been. Of course, he had never seen Archie use any of the ploys being so vividly play-acted to fend off Simpson's indignities.
But Simpson was gone from their lives now, and the King's Navy so large that he and Archie likely never to so much as see the bastard again. Sitting here, finishing the best meal of his life, surrounded by servants, eating off china and crystal, with light from dozens of candles making the dining room bright as day, it was as if all the events on Justinian were only an unpleasant and unlikely nightmare.
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