A/N: TimI asked about the value of blockading the channel. In the long term, there is none. In the short term, there is major disruption. London is closed as a port, meaning that all shipping must be rerouted. On the Island, a strain is put on resources. Ports are crowded in the west with insufficient manpower. New supply lines must be set up, not only to London but also to and from those areas that normally ship and receive from the London docks or any of the channel ports. France feels the worst of it because all their sea lanes are closed (except for the north).

Had Turkic reinforcements arrived in a timely fashion, the disruption would have been convenient for them.

Chapter Thirty Six: Duty

Sarah laughed at Ginny's discomfort. "I know I shouldn't, but your face is priceless. Yes, he's a customer, but this really is a social call. You need friends, Dearie. That means you have to meet people. And Tristram Potts is as nice as they get around here." As they approached the flat, Sarah added. "He's retired from the Navy. That's why I dragged you along."

Sarah knocked, then opened the unlocked door. "Commander?"

An old voice called out. "Goody Smith? This is a surprise. Do I hear someone with you?"

Sarah pulled Ginny to the window where the old man sat facing the morning sun. Ginny looked at the old man and noticed his most distinguishing feature. He was blind.

"Commander, this is Goodwoman Jenny Planck. She's my new neighbor. Her husband is a Lieutenant."

"Acting Lieutenant," Ginny said, then added quickly, "Commander."

"You are young?" Commander Potts said in surprise. "You must be newly married."

"And she's carrying already," Sarah added cheerfully.

The Commander clapped his hands. "That is wonderful," he said with surprising sincerity. "You must be very happy." Ginny cringed and somehow the old man seemed to know. "I said something wrong."

Sarah interrupted. "It wasn't planned, Tristram. She's still getting used to it."

The old man turned. Ginny felt he was looking directly at her. "Goodwoman Planck, there is good and bad in everything. If you must dwell on your fate, dwell on the good parts. Otherwise, you will never be happy."

Ginny nodded at what Commander Potts said. Then she blushed when she realized he couldn't see her. "I'll try, Sir. But this is all new to me."

Tristram Potts nodded his satisfaction at her answer. "Now you have to explain yourself. Where did you meet your husband?"

Ginny paused as she had a thought. The Commander said to dwell on the happy parts. "On board the HRMS Adventurer, Sir. We were under attack when . . ." She paused again as the Commander's face lit up in understanding and delight. By the time she was finished, they were fast friends.

As they left to return to their own house, Sarah gave Ginny a hug. "It was good to hear you laugh. Jenny, could I give you some marital advice?"

Ginny gave Sarah a bemused look. "You are in a position to know these things."

Sarah smirked, thinking of numerous replies she could make. "All joking aside, dearie, always remember what Tristram told you. We make our own happiness." She smirked again. "Now, is there anything else you want to know?"


Harry looked at his orders. He was to attend the Naval Engineering Yards at the Firth of Forth. With all of the action in the south, he was going north. He had been ranked a Lieutenant for only one day and did not like it. At least when he was in London he had a vague idea of what was happening. The Duke of Cambridge looked across the breakfast table, amused.

"It was not what you expected, Lord Henry."

"It was not, Your Grace. I thought to be doing something but I will be heading further away."

"Such is war," His Grace noted. "Even when we get what we want, it is not what we want. You sound like my son."

"Lord James?"

A slim smile formed on the old man's face. "He loved the sea, I will have you know. He could have sailed all the oceans every day for the rest of his life. Then he received his own command, the one thing he wanted most, and spent the rest of his days sailing in the Baltic. It was not what he wanted."

Harry nodded. Lord James Cavanaugh became an icon because he accepted his fate. "Your Grace, would Lord James approve of how he is remembered?"

"A question I have asked myself many times. As with all such questions, the answer is yes and no. He would have approved of those who took note of what he did, and valued the good and forgave the bad. But he would have hated to be remembered as many remember him these days. He is now more of a myth. You have heard them talk. 'The man who stopped the Polish fleet.' They make it sound as though he did it all by himself.

"The truth, Lord Henry, is that he did not stop the Polish fleet. All he did was delay them those few hours until the Jutland Gap could be reinforced. That is what stopped them. My son was not a hero in that sense, and if you look at his actions you can see the mistakes he made, mistakes that cost hundreds of people their lives."

"All the past is seen with clear vision," Harry quoted.

"But the future is in eternal fog." His Grace smiled. "Do you know what his biggest mistake was, Henry?"

Harry looked up at the Duke. Until this moment, the Duke had always spoken formally to him. "No, Uncle?"

"My son did not know when to stop. He needed less time than he thought. He kept fighting because he did not know how much time was needed. The truth of the matter is that after he had assaulted the first ship of the line, he could have withdrawn."

Harry nodded at the phrase 'ship of the line'. In '39, Dreadnaughts were still a recent addition to the fleets of the world. That is what permitted the Polish to become so powerful as to attempt to break out. Once the first Greatship was built, Naval tactics changed as well, but that was the Polish fleet's mistake. When they sailed they still formed a line. When the Bristol attacked that first ship in the early dawn, the line was disrupted. The Poles then wasted time trying to reform. THEY wasted the needed time.

"But Lord James did not know that, Uncle."

"And that, Henry, was his first mistake. He overestimated his enemy. He continued his attacks, and delayed them further, but His Royal Majesty's Fleet had already been brought together. The fleet was already on its way to intercept the Poles. The truth is that my son gave his life to prevent something that would not have happened. We were already prepared. He did not know that. That was his second mistake. Had he kept on course he would have made his rendevous with the fleet in only four hours, five at the most."

The Duke took a deep breath. "Do you know why he is a hero, Henry? He did his duty to the best of his ability. He knew our fleet was forming but he did not know how much time was needed. He knew that the Poles would never expect one ship to attack, and he did. He did because every minute he delayed them was one more minute we had. He gave his life to make sure that what could be would not become what could have been. In the end, my son did change something. He did not know it. He was already dead at that point. The delay did one significant thing. It altered the sight of the battle. It moved the sight further from us, but closer to that of our Scandinavian allies. As a result, we attacked with a combined fleet. We crushed the Polish Navy in one day."

"I understand, Your Grace. He is a hero because he did his duty."

"As is every man, My Lord Lieutenant. The rare exception is that my son is recognized for what he did."


Harry dismounted from the Duke's coach as he reached the train station to find Ernie MacMillan waiting for him.

"Harry, I have a favor to ask you."

"Anything, Ernie."

"A fair number of students are enlisting because of the war."

"And you would like to be involved."

"I cannot, Harry. You know that. I am an active Lord. I am forbidden."

"And your favor?"

"My brother."

"Ernie, how old is he? Ten? Tell him to wait a few years."

"He is Eleven." Ernie was upset. "He was supposed to be coming to Cambridge, to Saint Cathal's. To apply for admission."

Harry guessed the rest of the story. As Ernie's younger brother, and immediate heir, he was a Lord out of courtesy. But that courtesy ended when Ernie married and his wife had their first child. "He has the war fever?"

Ernie nodded. "And he knows you are in the Navy."

"Is he here? I do not have much time. I will talk him out of it if I can."

"It is worse than that. He forged Father's name and . . ."

"I know what comes after 'and'."

Ernie moved close to Harry. "They know about you, Harry. They'll keep you safe. If you could take him under your wing, then he will be safe, too."

"Lord MontClaire," Harry said a little too loudly, when he saw several officers, Captains and Commanders and one Commodore, approaching. "I am pleased to hear about your brother. Would you object if I asked if he could serve with me?" It was a simple plan. If he were discussing something that was related to the Navy, Harry would not be bothered. Otherwise they would find something for a Thirteen-Year-Old to do, even if he was a Lieutenant.

Ernie understood what Harry was doing and responded in kind. "He would appreciate that, My Lord Lieutenant, but I would demand that he receive no favoritism."

Harry smiled, but noted that the officers were stopping. That wasn't part of his plan. "The only favoritism he will receive is if he cannot fulfill his duties. He will be told by a friend of the family." Harry then 'noticed' the officers and saluted. Then he recognized one of them. Captain Carlisle of the Perseus, except that he was now a Commodore. "Sirs."

"As you were, Lieutenant," Carlisle said, then mused. "Let me guess. My Lord has a younger brother and wants him coddled."

"Sir, he thinks he will be safer with me," Harry said honestly.

"He would be safer at home and in bed, Lieutenant, and you know it."

"Yes, Sir."

"And you are, My Lord."

"Lord MontClaire, Commodore."

"Did I guess correctly?"

"Yes, Sir," Ernie said with embarrassment.

"Sir," Harry interrupted. "Lord MontClaire's brother forged his authorization."

"As did half the boys who have enlisted this past month. That changes nothing for the immediate future. Lord MontClaire, why do you not simply refute the authorization?"

Ernie was at a loss, but Harry explained easily. "Lord MontClaire is the First Baron of MontClaire. He was given the reward for, among other things, saving my life and that of my brother, as well as several others. I was only recently recognized at that time."

The Commodore laughed. "The Barony, and his father, are in New England if I am correct."

"Sir," one of the Captains interrupted.

"Proceed without me. We will confer on the train."

As the other officers left, Commodore Carlisle turned back to Ernie. "And where is your brother now?"

"He is to report to the enlistment office at noon, Sir. I brought him early because it is near the station. Friends told me I could meet Harry, um, Lord Henry here."

"And I repeat my question?"

"In the shops, Sir," Ernie said as he nodded in their general direction.

"Lord MontClaire. It is in my hands. Until your father can settle the matter."

"Thank you, Sir."

"And, My Lord, you should remember. No place is safe. It may only seem safe. Lieutenant, you will attend me."

"Sir?" Harry asked as he saluted. "I have not received my orders."

"We will pick them up on our way back from the enlistment office." The Commodore smirked. "I know where you are stationed, Mister Somerset. I had the pleasure of choosing my officers."

As Harry followed the Commodore, he asked, "You requested me, Sir?"

"Yes. I requested you. As an officer." He looked pointedly at Harry's sword. "Prove to me that you deserve it."

Harry nodded gratefully.

"Now point that boy out to me when you see him."

"There, Sir," Harry said shortly as they passed a Chocolatier. He indicated a boy a head shorter than Ernie but with the same stocky build.

The Commodore entered the shop and looked around with disinterest. The boy noticed him and saluted with a big grin. Carlisle returned the grin, and the salute. "You look the eager lad," Carlisle said. "Have you thought of enlisting?"

"I report at noon, sir," the boy said happily. He was still saluting.

"I could use a bright boy like you on my staff. Someone to train from scratch. Ah, but my train leaves at Eleven-thirty."

The boy's smile grew wider for an instant, and then he frowned. "I'm sorry, I mean I am sorry, Sir." The boy finally put his hand down.

"We could," Carlisle said suggestively, "take you down to the office and have them push through your paperwork. If you would like?"

The smile was back. "I would, Sir."

Carlisle's face became stern. "I want you to understand, son. This is no picnic. You will have to work hard."

The boy became nervous, but the smile held. "I know, Sir."

The boy noticed Harry then, and recognized him, but the Commodore was prepared. "And your name is?"

"Lord Edward MacMillan, Sir," the boy said suspiciously.

"MacMillan? Lieutenant, You mentioned a Lord MacMillan earlier in our interview?"

"Baron MacMillan of MontClaire, Commodore. He went to school with my brother before Lord Somerset enlisted. They were best mates."

"Your brother?" Lord Edward asked.

"My twin brother," Harry pointed out, then acted surprised after a hint from Carlisle. "You must be Lord MontClaire's brother. It is a pleasure to meet you. We will be serving together."

The smile was back. Lord Edward would be all the more eager because he thought he had earned the position. And he would feel less bitter when they had to send him home. Carlisle put his arm on the boy's shoulder to lead him out of the store. "A change of plans, Lieutenant. I will meet you on the train, after all." He nodded toward the clerk who saw his potential sale leaving and whispered, "go buy something."

Harry dutifully made a purchase, more than Lord Edward would ever have made, and the clerk was happy.

Commodore Carlisle was also happy. He had an errand boy who was more than eager. More importantly, he had an officer who would understand that the potential he showed the previous summer more than offset that stunt he pulled when he sounded the bells.


Lady Caroline Sheffield was only a Lady because her father was a knight and she was unofficially engaged to a Lord. Otherwise, she would only be Caroline. Despite that, her father had found another suitable young man, a Lieutenant in the Army. Her father did not like Harry, he did not like the fact that Harry was in the Navy, and he especially did not like the fact that Harry agreed to this stupid charade. Sir Mortimer did not hate Harry either, but he knew Harry's origins and felt them circumspect.

That changed nothing. Lieutenant I-Am-Important Army-Man had payed a call, and she had to respond.

"You are a beautiful young lady," Army-Man said.

"Harry always tells me that words could never describe my beauty. It was nice of you to prove him wrong."

"Uh, well," Army-Man said, "I, um . . . I am sure 'Harry?' is correct. I can only try."

"Oh, do you know Lord Henry Somerset? But I suppose you would. He is also a Lieutenant, but in the Navy. There is not much difference, is there?"

Lieutenant Army-Man was confused by the turn of conversation. He felt he had been tricked into making a social blunder. "We are, um, both officers in that respect. I have never had the honour of meeting him personally. Although we have all heard the stories of Lord Harry."

Caroline was worried. This man was making it past her verbal obstacles and still pressing his suit. He was now wary of her tactics and determined to make an impression.

"Excuse me, Lady Caroline," the butler said. "This came for you," He gave her a box with an envelope attached.

Caroline opened the envelope and smiled. "It is from Harry. Oh dear, his orders came and he had to leave without warning. And this is lovely. 'I am sending this to you because I can not take you with me'." She opened the box, genuinely surprised, and offered her guest a piece of chocolate. Army-Man demurred, then remembered his own schedule and politely left.

Caroline smiled, grateful for Harry's wonderful timing. She would have to ask him about that last line however. "I am sending this to you because I can not take IT with me." If he could not take it with him, then why did he buy the box of chocolates in the first place?


Lord Edward MacMillan was extremely excited. The key word in that sentence is "was". His excitement ended somewhere between leaving Cambridge and arriving at the Naval Yards. Except for a brief respite while eating, Edward had done little but stand behind the Commodore while he and everyone else sat down in the lounge car and talked. Occasionally he would play the waiter and fetch caffe or tea for the various officers, but mostly he stood and listened to things he did not understand. He did have a feeling of pride however. The Commodore, when they were at the enlistment office, insisted that Edward be put on the register as an Ensign.

"Mister MacMillan," Carlisle said as they stepped off the train. "Find which coach is mine and have the driver meet me at the inn."

"Yes, Sir," Edward said in a tired voice, and ran to the line of waiting coaches. As he did, Carlisle took out his watch and noted the time.

"Gentlemen," he said to the waiting officers, "There is little use in rushing so we may as well settle in. We shall meet in my office tomorrow after breakfast. That will give all of us time to find out where it is. You are dismissed."

The officers scattered to find their postings at the yard, and the Commodore was left alone for a brief moment. Then Lord Edward came running back and saluted. "Yes, Ensign?"

"Sir, the first coachman I asked said that you could use any coach."

Carlisle smiled. "Are you awake enough, now, to find your berth?"

"Berth?"

"Where you will sleep."

"Yes, Sir," Edward said happily. "I would be grateful for that."

"Then follow me, lad."

"Sir," Edward asked with confusion. "The coaches are the other way."

"I do not need a coach. I only thought you would like some exercise." At Edward's frown, Carlisle added, "and to see how fast you can run."

"I'm very fast, Sir."

"You are," Carlisle agreed. "Because that is what you will be doing."

Edward was finally shown his bed. It was a thin thing that he barely fit into, set into a nook in the wall across from the door to the Commodore's quarters. He was literally sleeping in the hallway. That was when he began to have his first doubts about how much fun it would be to join the navy.


Harry arose the next morning feeling stiff. He was used to sleeping on a ship, and sleeping in a bed. He was not used to sleeping on the floor. Someone failed to furnish the needed rooms properly, and Harry, being the junior officer had last choice. His room had not been furnished at all. But when you are tired enough, you will sleep anywhere.

He rose from the floor, straightened his uniform and stepped outside and down the stairs to the main doors. It was still early, and he listened as a ship in the docks rang six bells. He walked over to the officers station and went inside. The steward on duty saw him and held up a cup. By the time Harry walked over to him, the cup was filled with hot caffe. He sat down at a table near the window and gazed out. There was still the better part of an hour before everyone would rise.

"Sir, would you care for breakfast? I could prepare something."

"I will wait," Harry told the man. "I do not like to eat alone." Harry settled back in his chair. This could be his last chance to relax for some time.


Someone kicked his bed. Edward looked up as the porter walked by. "You woke me up."

"You are welcome," the porter said. "If you like, I will wake you tomorrow if I have the chance."

From outside a bell rang eight times, and the Commodore shouted, "MacMillan."

Edward jumped from his bed in surprise and knocked on the door.

"Open the door, boy. This is not a social call."

Edward opened the door to the Commodore's suite and walked in. The Commodore was in full uniform and waiting for him.

"You are fortunate you slept in your clothes. That means that you are ready, if not presentable."

"Um, yes Sir," Ernie said, then noticed the Commodore moving his hand for some reason. Then he realized the reason, and raised his hand in salute. Carlisle smiled approvingly.

"Always remember, Mister MacMillan, to salute all officers."

"Yes, Sir," Edward said and saluted again.

"And you do not need to salute at every sentence. Only at the beginning and the end."

"Yes Sir," Edward said. The Commodore was making it very clear how little the boy knew.

"I have a task for you, Mister MacMillan. A task I will give you every morning. I will give you the name of an officer and you will find him and tell him that I would like him to join me for breakfast. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." Edward's voice showed a wary fear. The Navy life was clearly not what he had expected.

"Good, Son. And today I will make it easy for you. It is an officer you already know. Lieutenant Somerset. Give him my request and bring me his reply, and then you are free until three bells."

Edward nodded and left the room. He may have been ignorant but he was not stupid. He ran after the porter to find out where the other officers were quartered. With good fortune, he found the right room quickly enough and knocked on the door. He had knocked four times when a porter, a different man, came by with a trunk. He opened the door and placed the trunk just inside what was obviously an empty room.


"Not even dust," Harry said, to general laughter. "Commodore, that is the reason you saw me coming here so early."

Carlisle laughed with the rest of the officers then looked at his watch. "My new ensign has not found you yet, Somerset. Do you suppose that is good or bad?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry replied after a pause.

"A diplomatic answer," Captain Harte said, and they laughed again.

"There he is," someone shouted, and every officer present looked out the window at the Commodore's Ensign. The boy was still running, although not as fast as the last time he had been spotted. He asked a passing seaman a question then turned to where he pointed. With a defeated look, he began to walk toward the officers station.

Edward walked into the dining room and up to the Commodore, and saluted.

"I am sorry, Sir."

"Have you delivered my message?"

"No, Sir."

The Commodore deliberately turned away and continued to eat his omelet. Edward was confused. Captain Harte tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to Harry. Edward walked up to Harry and said, in an embarrassed voice. "Lieutenant Somerset, the Commodore would . . ."

"Are you addressing me," Harry asked directly, "or are you relaying a message?" He saw Edward's stunned expression. After all, Harry was supposed to be his friend. But Harry continued in the same tone. "If it is the message then first give me the compliments of whomever sent it."

Edward nodded. "Commodore Carlisle sends his compliments, Lieutenant Somerset . . ."

"You started off right the first time, lad," Captain Harte interrupted. "Say his name. Say the sender's compliment. Say the message."

Edward nodded again. "Lieutenant Somerset, the Commodore's compliments. He requests you to join him for breakfast." Edward felt like a complete fool.

Harry grinned at him. "Please give the Commodore my compliments and my regrets because I have already eaten."

Edward turned around to face the Commodore. "Sir?" The Commodore looked up. "Lieutenant Somerset's complements. He sends his thanks but regrets to inform you that he has already eaten."

"Time?" Carlisle asked.

"Ninety-three minutes," a lieutenant said.

"Ensign, if you ever take longer than that, you will have to find yourself another career. Perhaps the Army."

Edward looked down. "Yes, Sir."

"Now take something to eat and report to supplies to be fitted for a uniform. Report back to me when you are finished with them."

Edward smiled with relief, and again when a steward signaled for him to follow to a table in the kitchen.

"Somerset," Carlisle said after the boy disappeared. "Wait a few minutes, then explain what we did. We will meet again at the Marine barracks at change of watch. Meet me there."

"Yes, Sir."Harry saluted. When he finished his caffe, he walked back to the kitchen to talk to Edward.


"I'm stupid," Edward insisted. "I don't know anything. I don't even know why he made me an Ensign."

"You should not use contractions."

"I don't care."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "That, Lord Edward, is why he made you an Ensign. Because you do not know. That is what an Ensign is."

Edward looked shocked. "Then every time I told someone my rank I was telling them . . ."

"That you did not know what you were doing."

"They were all laughing at me."

"Yes. We were. But did anyone lie to you? Did anyone deliberately mislead you?"

"No," Edward was forced to admit. "But they knew that I didn't know anything."

"And now you know."

Harry patted him on the shoulder. "And tomorrow you will know a little more. And then, one day, you will be just another boy in the service, doing what he is supposed to do."

Edward still grumbled. "I thought it would be fun. I ran around all morning, my bed is in the hallway . . ."

"At least you have a bed," Harry said, and Edward couldn't help himself. He started to laugh. When he stopped, he found Harry looking at him seriously. "Edward, Carlisle told you yesterday. This is serious. There will be a great deal of hard work. But, somehow it can be fun, if this is what you really want."

"Harry, what I really want is to go home."

Harry understood. "Edward, you can never go home again."

Edward gave Harry a curious look. "You know? Don't you?"

"That you ran away? It was obvious."

"You won't tell? Please?"

Harry hesitated, then made a decision. "It is this way, Ensign MacMillan. The Commodore knows all about you. He also knows that Lord MontClaire has already sent a letter to your father." Edward buried his head in his hands. "You should know that the Commodore will honour your father's wishes, but is willing to argue the matter if you prove yourself. He discussed this matter with me this morning while you were looking for me."

"But Dad will never agree." There was a pleading sound in his voice.

"I know," Harry said sadly. "And I know why."

"Tell me," Edward begged.

"It will take at least a month for your father's letter to reach us. We can talk when we have more time." He put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "And you can hope. The Commodore can be very persuasive."

"I'll try."

"And Edward. Where is the Marine Barracks?"

"When you go out, turn left. It's all the way down, almost to the docks." Edward paused. "Did I pass the test?"

Harry shrugged. "I forgot to ask where it was. With all the running around you did, I guessed that you would know."

Ensign Lord Edward MacMillan grinned, and finished his breakfast in a better mood.


Ginny stood up when she heard someone at the door. The door opened before she could reach it, and a stranger walked in. Except it wasn't a stranger. It was Henry. He looked around the flat in a disproving fashion, and then gave Ginny a questioning look.

"I thought you would be happy to see me."

"I didn't know you were coming. I didn't even recognize you at first."

Henry gave a rue smile. "I think I expected too much from you." He walked over and took her hand. "How are you feeling? You look pale."

"I'm fine. I'm tired." Ginny looked up at the boy/man who was her husband and put her arms around him. More than anything else she needed to be held, she needed to know she was wanted by someone.

Henry hugged her gently, not sure of what he should do. What he had expected was completely different from what he had found, and a harsh reality had hit him. Circumstance had paired him with a child, a mere girl. He had not even thought to ask her age. And now he knew his error. Jenny knew nothing about keeping a home. This was probably the first time she had ever lived by herself. And he was stuck with her.

Immediately he rebuked himself. He had the means to be rid of her if he wanted, but held back. He thought on his life, all that he had known: The orphanage which held his earliest memories; the day he found out about parents; the day the sisters sent him to the ship. There he had a family of sorts. And Jenny probably had the same experiences. He wanted her but could not explain why. Then Jenny said it for him.

"Henry, you are all that I have. I don't want to lose you. I can't afford to lose you."

"Jenny, you are all that I have." Then Henry thought of something that would sound wonderful. "Together, we could build a life."

Jenny looked at him and smiled. Her arms held him in a real hug.