The inn was the nicest he could find. It was one that catered to wealthy merchants and sea captains, the Porto do Mar. He hurried up the staircase to their suite of rooms to see them and to leave his travelling bag.
Whilst the Revenge was docking and settling into her berth, he had made arrangements at the inn and a reservation for the dinner seating. It would take at least the rest of the day, for the favorable high tide, customs clearance, and the unloading of any cargo. They needed to think about towing the ship eventually to one of the hidden small coves to anchor as well, and disguising her name. She could be robbed, stripped right down to her bones; not even the elegant walnut wood panelling of Stede's stateroom remaining.
The crew did well, very well, and should be rewarded for it, he thought. And Stede too, of course. He was a true sailor now. He hadn't needed to leave a message at the inn for Stede, although he did anyway, just in case they should become separated in the bustling activity of the port.
A pull-out trundle bed under the main bed, a curtained four-poster, with a wardrobe for their clothes. A private washstand and commode, and a bathing tub behind a lacquered dressing screen hand painted in the strong, broad strokes of cranes and peony flowers; fresh clean linens; the featherbed aired and refreshed. Cakes of fine French-milled soap wrapped in tissue and tied with ribbon and set in a hand-painted majolica dish. A panelled sitting room with a gold silk damask upholstered settee and two chairs of the same, the curved cabriole legs of walnut; with a fireplace, a tilt-top pedestal tea table. An elegant writing bureau in one corner, and richly woven Venetian Damask rugs over wood floors.
They were on the top storey, with an angled wall and sloped ceiling that followed the roofline at one end, papered in a blue-and-white toile de Jouy patterned wallpaper against dark woodwork where the bedroom and bath were, and a view of the harbour from the windows in the sitting room. The harbour sparkled in the noonday sunlight as he stood there at the open windows, looking out. Leaning out farther, he saw that there was a railed captain's walk on the roof.
Stede would never have complained or have been too demanding, but Edward wanted it to be comfortable for him, for them both. He knew well that it would have been a long, tiring journey for him. But the important thing was that they were here, safe and together. That was all that mattered.
When he was satisfied that everything was in order, he locked the door and headed down to the wharf.
Ed saw Stede walk down the gangway to the dock, carrying his travelling bag. He raised a hand to draw his attention and greet him.
"Stede!" he called out.
Stede stopped for a moment, turning to the sound of Ed's voice, smiling broadly, as if he couldn't believe his eyes, and a little unsteady on his feet, greeted Edward in return.
"You've cut your hair," Stede said, upon seeing Ed closer. It had been many weeks, months. Stede put down his travelling bag. "I've missed you."
They came together then in an embrace that neither wanted let go of; and there was no need here to be concerned about exuberant expressions of affection between two men. Affection and relief.
"You look good, Ed," he said, a gritty whisper in Ed's ear. "Beautiful."
"And you."
Ed smiled. Stede must have had a chance to freshen up aboard the ship; he could smell Stede's familiar lavender soap, and him. Ed kissed his cheek.
"You must be exhausted. Are you hungry?" Edward asked him.
"A bit."
"Do you have any other baggage?" They'd have to arrange to have his belongings moved from storage to the house at some point, the ship locked up and guarded.
"Not for now," Stede said. He didn't care about anything else right now but seeing Edward again. But Stede was a little tired.
Stede picked up his bag and together they went up to their suite, after getting him checked in.
"I hope this is all right," Edward said, looking over at Stede, his words heavy with meaning, after unlocking the door and opening it for him, and as they entered the bedroom. There was only the one bed.
"Oh God yes," Stede whispered. They had waited for so long.
Over dinner, they discussed the house and other things.
"I hope you'll like it. I do," Ed said, reaching for the olive plate, and they sipped a fino sherry as they waited for their meal.
"Tell me," Stede said.
"It's a little farmhouse on twenty-five or so acres, with a barn - I bought a horse - and an overgrown courtyard garden out in back? His name is Arturo. There are blue macaws. Banana trees. And there was a toucan in the garden, just the other day, up there in the trees."
"Did you?" There were a few memories Stede could look back fondly on of his old life, and learning to ride a horse as a boy, part of a young gentleman's education, and sunny afternoons out riding with his sweet and gentle horse as a young man were some of them.
"Ah," Stede replied, smiling. That's a fine name."
"I thought we could stay here for a day or two or so until you are rested and have a chance to adjust, and then make the journey to the house? It's not much farther now. We'll have to arrange for your things to be brought up too."
"It all sounds lovely, Edward. Delightful," Stede said. "I can't wait to see it." But Stede truly didn't care where they lived, as long as they were with each other. He'd sold a portion of his landholdings for their new life.
They were both still in the pleasant, giddy haze of the excitement of being together again, as if a bit intoxicated, where nothing else mattered but the moment.
Mary and the children had been well taken care of, Stede explained. They'd never have to worry about ending up penniless or she and the children having to leave the family home.
It had surprised Stede in fact, how quickly Mary had adjusted and moved on with her life, with all of his concern for her; it had been an ill-suited match for the both of them, and he was ultimately glad that she was happy, as she was for him. She'd wished him well.
Ed just smiled and nodded, not saying much of anything, as he hadn't wanted to unduly influence Stede's decision in any way, knowing it was something he had to work out for himself; unless Stede had really wanted and asked for his opinion. Stede had portrait miniatures of his son and daughter, done in watercolour on parchment, in a double frame, oval gold locket, a gift from Mary, who'd painted them while Stede had been away, and Stede had asked if he could have it.
She'd taken up painting as the pastime of many genteel ladies at first, but eventually found that she had quite a talent for it. She had soon become noticed, with a gallery showing all her own. It was impressive; Stede felt genuinely pleased for her. They had both made their mistakes; neither of them were perfect. Sigh no more, Lady, sigh no more, he thought to himself and smiled.
He'd keep in touch with them as he could. Now, Ed would support this decision in any way that he could.
"And it seems I've already been replaced! His name is Doug." Stede shrugged and gave Edward a look of mock defeat, and they both chuckled.
And who knows, Edward thought, perhaps they would have a chance to return, one day. The possibilities before them were endless.
It was a beautiful evening, and they took a short stroll together after dinner.
From their rooms, the sounds of the busy seaport began to settle down for the night, the music, the tabernas closing; a cool, salty sea breeze stirred the curtains at the windows, dispersing the day's heat.
Stede began to change out of his clothes until he was just in his underdrawers, and he collapsed onto the bed, falling back against the pillows with a groan. Ed joined him.
"You'll have to bear with me, Ed," Stede told him, once they were both settled together comfortably in bed. "It's unfamiliar territory for me."
It wasn't exactly a road well-trod for Ed either, and he told Stede so. "Did you think I had a lover in every port?" Stede felt Ed's soft laugh against his chest.
"I wouldn't care if you did. No, that's not it. It's just that I . . ."
Stede apologized again, for the time before.
"It doesn't matter now," Ed assured him, and took his hand, kissing the back of it. "You're here." He understood. Stede was an honourable man and he had done the honourable thing. He was not surprised. Ed respected that. Some word would have been nice, but that was all in the past now. It hadn't been entirely Stede's fault either, he reckoned. In his newfound happiness, he realized, he may have rushed things; a little too quickly than Stede had been ready for. For most of his life, he'd had only himself to rely on, until Izzy. Some experiences were new for him, too.
"There's no need to rush," he continued. "We have plenty of time. We'll enjoy every bit of it."
"This is wonderful, Ed."
Edward hadn't realized just how tired he himself was as well until he felt a wave of fatigue take him; it had been a busy few days. He realized he could finally relax. He'd tried to think of everything, and now it was all down to faith, and fortune, as to what would be, and they would deal with all of that as it presented itself. Stede needed to rest and adjust to his new surroundings, and a good night's sleep in this luxurious bed would do them good. They could go down to breakfast in the morning or sleep late and have something brought up to them from the kitchens - toast with butter and marmalade, buttered eggs, tea or coffee.
"My Edward," Stede whispered to him, caressing Ed's cheek. "I do love you."
Edward rested his head on Stede's chest, listening to the sound of his steady heart and kissing him there. "And I love you." When the time was right, he would kiss a trail the rest of the way.
"And tomorrow or the next day, I'd like you to meet an old friend," Ed told him.
