Warning: The following Author's Note and chapter contains potential (very minor) spoilers for Master and Commander (the novel), Post Captain, H.M.S. Surprise and The Far Side of the World.
Author's Note: I just wanted to quickly explain what's going on with the characters' backgrounds here. I realize that by the novel The Far Side of the World, Jack, Tom and Stephen have already been married for several years. However, in the movieverse (in which this story is set, remember), all we ever learn of the characters' personal lives is that Jack writes to someone named Sophia. Nothing is ever said about Tom or Stephen. For the purposes of this story, Jack and Sophia are not yet married (I've referred to her as his betrothed in previous chapters, you may recall), and Tom and Stephen are also unattached. I've taken the details of their personal lives from the early books, but changed it so that they're single at the time of the story.
This is also the first chapter in which I've attempted to write Stephen, and I just want to make it clear that I'm writing him from the movie and doing the best I can. The thought of attempting to write him as he is in the series is far, far too intimidating… This was bad enough!
As always, many thanks go to MissThursday, nightkate and Wyvern for their lovely reviews! Incidentally, I'm looking for a new Beta… Should any of you be interested (whether you've reviewed or not), please message me.
The Lieutenant and the Lady
Chapter Nine
A Modicum of Perspective
Tom peered out the window of Will's carriage, staring unseeingly at the spectacle of the best part of London rushing by. Immense columned townhouses similar to Admiral Fanshaw's lined the street on either side, shaded by stately trees and surrounded by park-like areas of greenery. Many of the houses had gardens or fountains partially concealed behind wrought-iron gates, giving the exclusive neighborhood an appearance of paradise, though Tom appreciated none of it. He was far too preoccupied with his thoughts as his friend's well-sprung coach took them back to Dr. Maturin's rooms in the Savoy.
It was just that he wished he'd had the chance to speak to Lady Evelyn. As soon as Will had informed him of the necessity of paying a courtesy call to the Fanshaws to thank them for the ball, Tom had built it up in his mind as the chance for the two of them to discuss their situation and perhaps come to some kind of determination. He was sorely disappointed by the actual experience, however. When he'd first entered the drawing room with Will, Lady Evelyn hadn't even been present. She'd appeared about 10 minutes later, her drawn, pale countenance nearly convincing Tom that someone must have seen them the night before. And yet there was no opportunity to ask her; Lady Fanshaw had immediately insisted that Will should take a turn about the room with her daughter, or perhaps they ought to tour the garden, or perhaps go on a ride in Hyde Park the next day. Meanwhile, Tom had been ignored as completely as though he had been wallpaper.
Being ignored didn't upset him, of course. On the whole, he rather thought he preferred it. At the very least it was what he was used to, what he expected, from people of such lofty station. It did upset him to see Lady Evelyn looking so distressed and to suspect he might be the cause. Her face had been utterly colorless, lacking even the sallowness he had noticed the night before, except the few times she had met his gaze, at which point she had flushed as painfully pink as her deeply unflattering gown. There was something charming about that, he thought, something he didn't quite understand; perhaps it was that he liked knowing he was capable of unsettling her. After all, it was only fair, considering how very much she unsettled him.
It hadn't helped that he had dreamed of her the night before, the kind of dream that made him embarrassed to look himself in the eye in the mirror in the morning, let alone anyone else. Tom had felt like some kind of voyeur, unable to refrain from watching her move about the drawing room, always aware of her location through a strange sixth sense. He'd kept remembering moments from his dream as though they had truly happened, recalling the imagined feel of her hair heavy and smooth in his hands, the phantom softness of her lips against his, the all-too-real tone of her voice caressing his name… Because he knew it would sound just the way he fantasized, low and beautiful and perfect…
"Tom, are you quite alright?" Will's concerned voice interrupted his thoughts, which he found welcome considering the direction in which they were about to head.
"Of course," he responded with a small smile. "My mind was simply wandering."
"Mine as well," Will murmured. "Did you see the way Lady Fanshaw kept throwing Lady Evelyn at me? I tell you, Tom, the woman is most devilishly determined."
"She did seem quite eager to plan an entire week of outings for you," Tom agreed, trying to ignore the faint, inexplicable twinge of jealousy he felt. It was hardly surprising that Lady Fanshaw would single Will out; he was eligible in ways Tom himself would never be. Suddenly, he blinked with shock. Where that thought had come from, he had no idea. He had no desire to be eligible.
Will seemed not to notice Tom's distraction. "Lord, I must be careful," he sighed, "or I shall find myself married to Lady Evelyn before the end of the season."
"Do you never contemplate it?" Tom asked hesitantly. "Marriage, I mean. To anyone, not Lady Evelyn specifically," he added.
Apparently shocked, Will shook his head vehemently. "No! God no. Do you?"
"I was once very nearly engaged," Tom answered. "To Sarah Chubb, you remember?"
"Oh, yes," Will nodded, "now I recall. She was quite pretty, a little blonde thing… Was she not there the night we celebrated your promotion to Lieutenant?"
Tom smiled. "Yes. We had an understanding, I thought, while I was in the Polychrest, and when we took the Surprise to India I went so far as to spend a year's pay and prize-money on a ring for her. And yet when I returned, she was a year married to someone else."
"Lord, Tom, I am sorry," Will consoled sincerely. "I had no idea."
With a shrug, Tom waved off his friend's apology. It had hurt deeply at the time, wounded him more than he'd thought possible, but it had been years ago of course. "It is no great matter. I thought then that perhaps our profession is not well-suited to marriage. And yet lately I begin to believe it might be… Nice, you know, to come home to someone. Or to write to someone other than family, to feel hopeful at every port…" he trailed off wistfully.
Will's expression became uneasy. "This is all hypothetical, is it not? Unrelated to Lady Evelyn in any way?"
"Of course," Tom assured him, even as he assured himself. "Or mostly, at any rate… I've only been considering it because it is possible I should have to offer for her, you know. And yet it would be such a disaster. Aside from anything else, I cannot even afford a wife, much less a wife like her."
"Can you not?" Will inquired with a curious glance. "I daresay I could on pay and prize-money alone."
Tom returned his friend's glance with a wry look. "Yes, I daresay you could." He did not like to mention that Will was responsible only for himself, while he was obliged to support his widowed mother, three sisters and an assortment of nieces and nephews. It was unnecessary in any case; Tom knew his friend was as honorable as he himself was, and if his entire salary were needed to ensure the comfort of his family, surely he would surrender it gladly. Their circumstances were different, that was all.
Will did not press the point. Instead, he returned to the subject of Lady Evelyn. "I should not worry about it, Tom. Surely if there were any danger to her reputation, she would even now be aware of it. She would have spoken to you, if only to warn you, but I rather believe she was avoiding you instead."
"Perhaps she was," Tom murmured, almost entirely to himself. He found he disliked the idea, though he was unsure why.
"I confess I am curious as to what you two were discussing last night," Will prodded delicately.
Tom colored but declined to satisfy his friend's curiosity. "I wonder if Captain Aubrey will be awake when we reach Dr. Maturin's," he mused instead.
Raising his eyebrows at Tom's clumsy evasion, Will accepted the change of subject with grace. "I should be surprised if he were. I have never seen a man so insensible with drink, save when that poor young man in the Sophie drank himself to death on his birthday. Not that the captain is in any danger, of course," he hastened to add.
"I do hope he is well soon," Tom began earnestly. "Firstly because I know he particularly desires to visit his betrothed, of course; I should hate for him to postpone it. But also for a more selfish motive," he admitted. "After last night, I begin to think I might honestly have a chance at promotion, and I'd value his advice on the matter. Ought I to pay a visit to the Admiralty, do you think?"
"Of course you have a chance at promotion, more than a chance I'd say," Will assured him. "Your action with the Acheron cannot be ignored, and Admiral Fanshaw was so attentive to you. I daresay you'll find yourself Master and Commander within the week, whether you visit the Admiralty or not."
Tom fought to keep a grin from stretching his face. "Lord, Will, do not get my hopes up. I find it answers better to expect nothing, for then one is always pleasantly surprised, rather than disappointed."
"Well expect nothing then," Will teased, "but the excitement of the pleasant surprise might kill you, if all happens as I anticipate. Here is the Grapes, I believe… And is that the doctor?" His playful tone turned to one of alarm. "Lord, Tom, he looks so very grave."
He did indeed, Tom thought, suddenly worried. As the carriage slowed to a stop, he hurried out to meet him, ignoring the ingenious steps that unfolded automatically as the door opened and exiting the coach with a jump. Will followed suit. "Dr. Maturin, sir… Do we find you well? Is Captain Aubrey recovered?" Tom found himself uncertain of the man's response, and felt a hint of fear.
"I am quite well, Mr. Pullings, I thank you," the doctor answered, though the bleakness of his expression did not alter. "I have been awaiting your arrival this quarter hour past; I should be much obliged if you would join me upstairs, though Captain Aubrey remains indisposed."
"Of course, doctor," Will responded, his face and Tom's both taking on the doctor's gravity as they followed him upstairs.
Twenty minutes later, Tom sat next to Will in Doctor Maturin's sitting room. He let a set of rooms in a lodging house called the Grapes in the Savoy, had done for a number of years, and the bizarre clutter of items that filled the room was a testament to that length of time. All the strange objects, including display cases of brilliantly colored beetles, unfamiliar stuffed animals and what appeared to be a human skull, were covered with a liberal coating of dust, which made sense considering Dr. Maturin, like himself and Will, had spent close on the last three years constantly at sea. Tom had known the doctor for much longer than that, of course; they had all three served together in the Sophie, Captain Aubrey's first command, and had been together at sea almost uninterrupted since. He had rarely known the doctor to pace like this, however, nor to look so preoccupied and worried.
Not that Tom blamed him. If he hadn't been so distracted by the situation with Lady Evelyn, he would have been just as worried about Captain Aubrey long before this point. There was something to be said for a modicum of perspective: as confused as he was by Lady Evelyn, his circumstances were far, far less threatening than the ones in which Captain Aubrey currently found himself.
"We ought never to have left him alone," Will murmured, looking anguished. "We ought to have been watching him."
Tom nodded in agreement. "If only I hadn't been…" he trailed off, unable to accurately summarize his encounter with Lady Evelyn. He rephrased, settling upon "If only I had never left the ballroom."
"Please," Dr. Maturin began quietly, "do not reproach yourselves… Jack ought to have been watching himself, of course. But knowing as I did how unlikely that was, I ought to have been there for him. Instead I chose to remain here to catalogue my specimens from the Galapagos… This is my fault." As stricken as Will and Tom were, the doctor was clearly even more distressed.
"Is there anything to be done?" Tom asked after a moment, vaguely hopeful. If anyone could solve this problem, it was Dr. Maturin.
Discouragingly, that man shook his head. "I think not. Jack is uncertain as to exactly how he and Lady Bethany ended up in the garden together, but the girl is ruined, that is quite clear. And despite his few faults, you know your captain is an honorable man. He will do what is right by her, of course."
Shifting uneasily in his chair, Will posited the question Tom himself had been wondering. "When you say 'ruined', doctor… What precisely are we discussing?"
Dr. Maturin smiled wryly. "You know Captain Aubrey too well to doubt my meaning, Mr. Mowett. Suffice to say she has been rendered wholly unmarriageable, and Jack naturally is duty-bound to offer for her."
Will nodded sagely, immediately comprehending the doctor's meaning. In his innocence, Tom remained confused a few moments longer before understanding dawned. "Surely that is not the case," he protested, somewhat shocked. He knew the captain was something of a rake, despite his love for his betrothed, Miss Williams. And yet he could not imagine that he would so forget himself as to toy with a single woman of good reputation. "Captain Aubrey would never… That is to say, a young unmarried woman, he wouldn't…"
"One would think he would know better," the doctor answered tartly, "and yet it seems he does not." He finally stopped his pacing, adjusting his spectacles before removing them entirely and running one hand agitatedly through his cropped hair. "I only confide this in you, gentlemen, because I require your assistance."
"Of course, doctor," Tom responded immediately as Will nodded his agreement. "Anything we might do to be of help, you have but to name it."
"I need to know where this Lady Bethany Firth resides," he said.
Will and Tom exchanged confused glances. "I believe I have been to her home… I believe I should recognize it," Will offered. "But why do you require this information, if I may ask?"
"Jack isn't going to marry Lady Bethany," the doctor stated calmly. "I am."
Author's Note: Oh dear, another cliffhanger. Review if you'd care to find out what happens next…
