Three: Archie

The streets of Portsmouth were brimming with activity, and Lady Elizabeth Minton could feel the familiar tugs of panic and claustrophobia tightening in her chest. She had suffered from panic attacks for nearly three years now – and was almost resentful of crowds. She handed another dress-box to one of her servants and turned to look at the maid a little way behind her.

"Jennifer." She called. "I think we'll go home now. Please hail a cab." The maid bobbed a curtsey and stepped nearer to the road to call for a horse-pulled cart to take them back to the manor. Elizabeth clasped her shivering hands in front of her to hide the shaking. She took a few deep breaths of cloying dockside air, but instantly regretted it. She inhaled the smell of sea salt, and it caused her heart to falter. She looked around for distraction. Her young son crouched nearby, playing with a little wooden toy ship. She frowned briefly – his fascination with all things nautical made her nervous… perhaps she should never have made that naval button into a necklace for him.

………………………

Horatio could feel Bush's presence ever beside him, but chose to ignore it. He was in desperate search of a good, cheap tavern that sold beer long into the night and asked no questions. He had suffered his silence for nearly two months since encountering Bernard, and Horatio could stand no more of his lieutenant's disapproval. He wouldn't go to see her… He couldn't do it. He went to sidestep a boy, but froze to the spot at a familiar sound.

"Archie, come here please." No… No… It couldn't possibly… His eyes betrayed him and looked slowly upwards, and he felt his heart shatter into sharp pieces in his chest. She was exquisite, just as he remembered. She wore a cream dress with blue pattern, and a matching hat tied under her chin, covering her beautiful blonde hair. Her eyes met his momentarily, as the boy he had tried to step around looked up and grinned at him, before tottering over to Elizabeth. She bent down and scooped him into her arms. She looked away. "Jennifer." She called desperately. "Hurry with that cab, it's frightfully cold and I don't want Archie to catch a sniff."

"Yes ma'am." Replied the maid and waved down a cart. Horatio stepped forward to go to her, but felt a hand on his elbow. Bush. Elizabeth disappeared with her son and two servants into the cab, and the dapple-grey horse snorted as it pulled away, snatching her from him. He whirled on Bush furiously.

"Why wouldn't you let me go to her?" His lieutenant looked placating as he replied:

"You are in no state to any such thing. Besides, it would be far better to visit her at the house." Horatio started to argue, but closed his mouth again. Perhaps Bush was right… in the middle of the street was hardly the correct reunion.

He found the nearest tavern – not caring for the price or reputation – and ordered himself a strong whisky. As he paid, a scruffy-looking messenger boy darted in and looked around fretfully before his restless eyes alighted on Horatio and Bush. He crossed the room and cleared his throat, his eyes twitching around the room again. Horatio stared in plain disconcertion.

"Captain Horatio Hornblower?"

"Yes."

"Message from the Lady Minton." He held out a crumpled slip of paper and disappeared before Horatio could even tip him. He unfolded it and read carefully the curling handwriting.

I hope this finds you, the messengers are so untrustworthy and I wouldn't presume to think that they would search the whole city for you – though that is what I asked. The Earl is away on business for three days. Come to the house tonight. E.

"Well, what does it say?" Bush asked, unable to hide his eagerness. Horatio crumpled the paper in his hand, staring into his whisky.

"I am going to visit her tonight."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Horatio paid the cab-driver and looked up at the house, feeling the gravel crunch beneath his feet as he approached the accusing-looking door. He knocked nervously, wondering if he should sneak around the back like he had before. But before he could dart away, a butler opened the door.

"Good evening, Mr Hornblower." The butler announced, bowing. "The Lady Elizabeth awaits your presence in the porch. Please, follow me." Horatio obeyed silently, shocked at the use of his name. This visit would be a poor kept secret from Daniel! The Earl's face was in every painting in the hallway, the beady eyes watching Horatio suspiciously. The butler opened the door to the porch and bowed before leaving. Elizabeth sat in a chair, looking through the french doors onto the garden in the fading light. Her hands were clasped in her lap, and she had changed to a simple green dress, her hair loose down her back. She looked around as he entered, his shaking hands hidden behind his back and his lips pursed forcefully shut. She rose, and hand briefly touching her chest and then dropping to her side. Her blue eyes were bright.

"Horatio." She whispered, and he felt as if he had just reached heaven. He had waited over three years to hear that voice say his name once more. He bowed.

"M'lady, you asked for my presence."

"Enough with formalities!" She snapped angrily. "Come and sit down, Horatio, I've not waited three years just to hear you simper another ghastly 'm'lady'." He hid a smile – her spirit was how he remembered it. He obliged, and sat in a chair opposite her at an angle, so he too could see the sun set over the dock. There was silence. Complete, comfortable silence.

"Three years, Horatio."

"I know." She fiddled with the threads of her dress in her lap, staring out over the garden. His eyes never left her face.

"So much has changed." She took a deep breath. "And I thought that after three years… this had changed… that I would have forgotten you… grown to care for Daniel. Maybe not love him, but at least like him." She turned and looked at him desperately. "And yet, everyday, I wish I had gone with you that night. And when I saw you again… I felt alive…" She took a deep shuddering breath and looked at her hands. Horatio had nothing to say.

"I've never forgotten you." He stated simply. More silence. "I saw Bernard." Her head shot up.

"Yes? How is he?"

"Well. They want to know you are safe and happy. They all wish you would go back." She smiled.

"I am afraid that that may never happen now. Events rather, overtook me." She managed a shy smile and blush.

"Your son." Horatio felt a burning grief in him again. Daniel's son. It killed him to think of them together – coupled on the very same bed as he had… he forced himself away from those traitorous thoughts.

"Yes. Archie has been my rock through all this."

"Archie?" Horatio was curious as to why he wasn't a 'Daniel Junior'.

"I couldn't very well name him after his father, could I?" Her voice was almost derisive.

"Why not? I'm sure Daniel would have been thoroughly pleased." Elizabeth chuckled.

"He was rather bemused at Archie's name."

"Then, why did you name him Archie?"

"After Archibald Kennedy." Horatio felt as if his whole body had fallen into ice. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words came out. Elizabeth looked at him with her head tilted slightly and an amused glint in her eye.

"Archie Kennedy?"

"A friend of yours, I believe."

"But, he was denounced…" He spluttered. "It would be a disgraceful namesake…"

"Oh bull!" The oath made Horatio sit back in surprise. "Archie Kennedy was a brave, honorable and loyal friend, courageous to the end." She tilted her chin stubbornly. "And don't contradict me for the sakes of politics, Horatio."

"I don't understand… I never spoke to you of Archie."

"Perhaps not when you were awake. But your dreams give you away, Horatio." She smiled softly at him, and in a sudden gesture, rested her hand over one of his. He looked down at it with wonder. Of course… He had dreamt of Archie whilst asleep beside her that night. Archie telling him he was happy for Horatio… Archie's dying words and his own replies.

"I still don't follow." He added cautiously. Elizabeth took a deep breath and rose.

"Then I think you should come with me."

She led him through another room off the porch to a small playroom. Jennifer the maid was there, and so was little Archie, dressed for bed.

"Archie, sweetheart." Elizabeth called softly, and the baby tripped over to her, where she lifted him into her arms and turned back to Horatio. Archie followed his mother's gaze, looking at him seriously through deep brown eyes. "Horatio. I would like you to meet your son."