King, Ship, and Sword

chair. 'And there's many a churchman the eldest of his family, with his own income, beyond the manse, the glebe, and his share of the tithes,' he pointed out.

'But, since Mother was murdered, I only want to fight and kill Frenchmen,' Sewallis said with unaccustomed firmness. 'I don't think I could ever take Holy Orders with that in my heart. If not the Navy, could I not go into the Army, grandfather? You once offered your influence at Horse Guards to help Hugh obtain a commission.'

'Know why they call downwind a 'soldier's wind,' Sewallis? Because any fool can do it!' Hugh took that moment to interject, laughing at his own jape.

'Don't taunt your brother, young man!' Lewrie snapped. 'It's not the best time-you're going, and all of us not knowing when we'll clap eyes on each other again.' Hugh, though, was irrepressible, only pretending to be subdued. Turning back to Sewallis, Lewrie said, 'First-born sons' lives are never intentionally placed in jeopardy, me lad. Like yer grandfather just said, your familial duty is to grow up to be the heir, and carry on the family name and properties.'

'Younger sons in the Army,' Sir Hugo added, 'if there's a title or estate and their eldest brother passes, ye know what they must do? Resign, sell off their commissions, and go back to civilian life t'take his place, take on the late elder brother's duties to his family. Get the title, the lands and rents, and do right by his younger brothers and sisters. Seen enough of it in my time,' the old rascal grumbled. 'Take their seat in Lord's, or stand for Commons.'

'Like Harry Embleton?' Sewallis asked. 'But he's in the Army, and he's Sir Romney's eldest. If the King called out the Yeomanry and the militia, he'd get to fight the French!'

'Only if they invade us, Sewallis,' Sir Hugo said with a smirk of disapproval for that fool Harry, and the dubious worth of militia or the Yeomanry. 'They'll never be called t'go overseas to fight the French, where the French are. Harry's just playin' at soldierin'!'

'Well then, couldn't I join Harry's regiment? At least I could get some military experience!' Sewallis cajoled. 'When school term is over?'

Lewrie wryly shook his head. It would be too embarrassing, and take much too long, to explain to Sewallis the enmity that Harry still held for anyone named Lewrie, and why, and how slim his odds were of a commission under Harry Embleton if Harry ran the selection-and just how badly Sewallis would be treated if he did get such a commission!

'Better ye enjoy what's left o' your youth at Dun Roman, with your grandfather, son,' Lewrie gently told him. 'Coach to London with him and stay a week or so, now and again.'

'Stay with your sister, and yer Uncle Governour and Aunt Millicent, too,' Sir Hugo was very quick to add, looking as if he'd bitten into a lemon at the suggestion that he give up his pleasurable activities to play 'daddy' to the lad, not the avuncular, now-and-again 'grandfather'! 'Do a summer term at school?' he hastily suggested.

'I know it's the way it's done, but… it still seems so unfair!' Sewallis mournfully said in a chin-down sulk.

Him stay with Governour and Millicent? Lewrie thought in dread; Good God, they'll turn him against me, too? Maybe he should go into one o' the services 'fore I lose all my children!

'Uhm… school, father,' Sewallis hesitantly said, looking up. 'Headmaster said to tell you that the tuition, uhm… '

'Thought I'd paid it,' Lewrie replied after a bite of juicy roast beef and a sip of wine. 'Ye took my note-of-hand with you when ye returned for Easter Term.'

'Not that one,' Sewallis told him. 'There's the extras for equitation, the swordmaster, the dancing instructor, and all. And there is a summer term. Not too many students attend, and not all of the faculty are there, but… I suppose I could attend, and take only a few courses. That way, I could have long weekends to visit grandfather in London now and then, and there's an interval, round Mid-Summer Day, long enough to go home to Anglesgreen and see Charlotte and the family.'

'Perhaps that might be best… this summer, at least,' Sir Hugo said after a long, head-cocked thought. 'Know how much it'd be? D'ye have a list of the extra fees? I'll foot it. My treat, hey?'

'Thank you, grandfather,' Sewallis said to him with warmth. 'If I must become half an… an orphan, then I suppose I must be about it as best I can, and gain more education… as you say, father… for fulfilling my lot in life.'

Could I feel any lower? Lewrie wondered; any guiltier?

They retired fairly early, since Hugh had to rise so early the next morning; Hugh and Sewallis to one bed, and Sir Hugo and Lewrie to another. And the old bastard snored and made strangling noises like a wheezing ox about to expire! Sending Hugh off to his own uncertain entry into a hard, cruel adult life, abandoning Sewallis to his mournful and shy loneliness, to be batted like a tennis ball between school, his begrudging grandfather, and his bitter kinfolk, was enough to keep Lewrie awake and tossing long into the night, even without his father's snores and the occasional fart. To recall his parting with Charlotte was even worse!

'Pah-pah, why must you go away?' she'd wept at one minute, then, 'Why can't Mistress Gower and her husband and my nanny take care of me at our house?' the next. Followed by 'Must I move in with Uncle Governour and Aunt Millicent?' Followed by 'Will I keep my pony, my dolls, and my own bed? My puppy?' No matter how much Millicent assured her that all her things would be with her, that she could play every day with her cousins-hadn't it been grand, last summer, when she had stayed with them, after all? Hadn't they had ever so much fun? Don't you know we love you like our own?-Charlotte had been disconsolate and utterly bereft 'But that was when Ma-Ma was coming back!' she'd stubbornly objected.

Pah-pah and Ma-Ma-that was Governour's and Millicent's doing. When he and Caroline had coached away, it had been Daddy and Mummy and she had been so gay, delighted to spend her time at their estate and play to her heart's desire, visiting her grandfather's estate daily.

Changin' her into their sort o' Miss Priss! Lewrie fumed.

Then had come the hateful vindictive, along with a fresh flood of tears and wails. 'I'd still have my Ma-Ma if you hadn't taken her off to France! I'd still have my house, the way things were, but for you!'

She didn't have to add 'I hate you, just go away!' to wound him any deeper as she'd stomped her feet, ignored all his attempts to explain it was the French who'd taken her mother; she had shrunk from his attempt to hug her and console her, then dashed from the parlour, and the house, screaming inarticulately, with a flying banshee's wail!

Recalling that all over again made Lewrie start fully awake and upright in bed, to scrub his face with both hands and wish for dawn, seeing again Millicent's stricken look and Governour's grim satisfaction!

Awakened at 6 A.M. to dress, scrub up, comb their hair, and (for the adults) to shave, and they were down to the dining room for breakfast, even more subdued than they had been at supper.

'Say good-byes here, Sewallis, father,' Lewrie instructed. 'Hugh and I will go on to the docks by ourselves, hey?'

They were English, of the country gentry, so public displays of emotion were not for them. Sir Hugo chucked Hugh under the chin and told him that he was proud of him and that he should be careful and follow all his orders and remember to uphold the Lewrie name and its honour. 'Yer father's brought lustre to it, and ye can do no less.'

'So long, Hugh,' Sewallis said, his arms folded cross his chest and his chin up. 'I'll write. You be sure to, too, right? Tell us of how you get along. You lucky imp.'