THE JOURNEY HOME
by Clio

Kennedy's Dilemma

When the Indefatigable finally returned to Plymouth, her crew was as happy as it was possible for men to be. The disastrous mission in France, as well as the difficult journey home, had strained officer and seaman alike. As the ship had rounded the peninsula of Brittany to enter the Channel, she had run into a massive storm, the likes of which was rarely seen in the waning days of summer. For three days they had fought while rain, wind, and waves had battered the Indy, pushing her off to the southwest and away from her destination. Finally, the storm abated, and they had spent two days beating back towards England.

Upon their arrival, Captain Pellew had immediately gone ashore to report to the Port Admiral. The men and officers on watch had seen the captain's angry, set, and tight-lipped face. Rumor working its way about the ship had it that Pellew was so disgusted with the recent mission, and the Admiralty's handling of matters, that he fully intended to retire then and there. Nobody believed it, however. The captain would never quit like that; he would die in battle, not in his bed.

Acting Lieutenant Kennedy stood at the rail, watching as the captain's boat was rowed to shore. He had asked for, and been granted, permission to travel to his family's estate for a few days while the Indy was re-fitted. He knew that things had been difficult at home since his mother's death eight months previous. His father had retreated to his study, more often than not to drink himself insensible. His older brother was struggling to manage the estate and keep the truth of their father's condition from being known. Reginald had written to his brother, pleading with Archie to return home, even if only for a little while. The letter had been brought on board last night, and now he was going to depart within the hour.

He turned away from the rail and went to make his way belowdecks to the cabin he shared with his best friend, Lieutenant Hornblower. Since returning to the Indy after the ill-fated mission in France, Hornblower had shut himself away in the cabin except when he was on watch. Kennedy had tried to cheer him out of his despondent mood, but nothing seemed to work. Even the climb to the topsail yardarm had been only momentarily effective. But Kennedy had insisted his friend accompany him. It is always good to see things from a different angle, he had said.

When he reached the cabin Kennedy hesitated before entering. He knew that he would see one of two things; Hornblower lying on his bunk staring at the ceiling, or Hornblower sitting at the table working exercises in navigation. His friend had done little else in the last week. Well, Kennedy told himself, maybe my news will shake him up a bit. And with that thought he pushed open the door and entered their quarters.

As he had suspected, his friend sat at the table, charts and books spread out across it. Hornblower was not working on any problem, however. He sat staring at a point just to the left of the cabin door. His mind was miles away; when Kennedy sat down opposite him he never moved.

Kennedy reached out and lightly touched his friend's arm.

"Horatio..."

Hornblower started out of his reverie. "Archie! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in." He started collecting the papers on the table together. "Has Captain Pellew gone ashore?"

Kennedy sighed as his friend continued to behave as if nothing were wrong. However, he decided that this was not the time to argue about it.

"Yes. He left not too long ago. But I spoke to him before..." Kennedy hesitated for a moment. "I have permission to travel home for a few days." He took a deep breath. "I would like you to come with me."

Hornblower did not respond right away. He was absorbed in organizing his papers, and seemed not to have heard Kennedy's request. Eventually the words penetrated his mind, and he stopped what he was doing and looked at Kennedy, an expression of shock on his face.

"You want me to go with you?" A puzzled look replaced the shock on his face. "Why?"

"Because I fear things have gone bad at home. Because I may need help, and I can think of no man I would rather have at my side." Kennedy felt tears prick his eyes. "Because you have been there for me through some very tough times, and I have been there for you. Maybe this is the last thing we will do together, maybe not. But either way, I would like your help."

Hornblower took a deep breath and stared into his friend's earnest blue eyes. He saw nothing there but honesty and affection, and for the first time in their friendship he felt almost inadequate. Kennedy was the son of wealthy parents, not quite nobility, but very respectable landed gentry. He had been pushed into the navy to preserve the intact the inheritance for his older brother. Hornblower was the son of a doctor, sent to the navy to make his own way in the world. He had found happiness and a purpose there, but often thought that Kennedy was only marking time.

Now, his friend stood there and asked for help in a problem dealing with his family. What can I do to help, Hornblower asked himself, and a moment later he asked the question out loud.

Kennedy seemed taken aback by the question. It probably never occurred to him to think that Hornblower would feel inadequate in the midst of his family. He was accustomed to seeing his friend as the master of any situation. Only once, in all the years they had been together, had he ever seen Hornblower lose his iron self-control. But now, he could see a shadow of uncertainty in Hornblower's eyes.

"I don't know exactly what I'll face when I go home." he said. Deciding that complete honesty was for the best, he continued. "My father spends more time drinking than managing the estate, and my brother is faltering. In truth, I don't believe Reg is up to the task of salvaging what's left of our land on his own. He has asked for my help, and I am asking for yours." A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Besides, I would like for my family to meet my best, my dearest, friend."

To that Hornblower had no argument to make. He simply nodded his assent.

"Good!" Kennedy said, a wide grin brightening his face. "We had best gather our things; we'll be leaving in an hour."

Two hours later Kennedy and Hornblower sat in the taproom of The Bell, drinking ale and conversing quietly. They were still in uniform, so most of the other patrons kept their distance from the pair. Kennedy sat with his legs stretched out towards the fire, slouching slightly in his chair. To him it was a relief to be off the ship for a while, to have a chance to just be a regular person. He glanced over at his friend and had to stifle a laugh at what he saw.

For it was obvious that Hornblower was not as happy at being ashore. He sat ramrod straight in his chair; if his spine touched the chair back at all it was a miracle. His right hand was curled around his tankard of ale, and his left lay alongside, the long fingers tapping an unconscious rhythm on the tabletop. He managed to hold his head as if he were keeping his bicorne hat balanced on it. Despite the warming effect of the ale, Hornblower was not at all relaxed.

Kennedy took another swallow of ale and leaned forward in his chair. "You know, Horatio, it won't hurt you to unbend a little. We are ashore, Captain Pellew is not going to walk in on us any moment, and Lieutenant Bracegirdle is not watching us." As he spoke he waved his hand to illustrate his points. "You can relax a little."

Hornblower let out his breath in a gusty sigh, and leaned back into the chair. "You're right, Archie. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, be happy! I promise that this trip will not be as terrible as you might think. Who knows, you might actually like my family!"

Now that he had allowed himself to relax, Hornblower found himself unconsciously mimicking his friend's posture. He slouched down in his chair and extended his long legs towards the fire. He took another sip of ale and his eyes closed briefly. He hadn't't felt this comfortable since before the mission in France. He glanced toward Kennedy.

"Give me some idea of what to expect when we get to your family's estate. If things are as bad as you suspect, I imagine we'll have our hands full."

Kennedy took a deep breath and stared into the flames as if seeking inspiration. Finally he spoke. "Its not a very simple story, Horatio. Are you sure you want to hear everything?"

A small smile appeared on Hornblower's face. "I'm not exactly in a hurry, Archie. We have comfortable chairs, a warm fire, and I'm sure we can get more ale." His smile broadened. "So let's have the whole story, all right?"

Kennedy smiled in response. "All right. The whole story." He paused a moment to gather his thoughts. "You know that my mother died not long after we were released from prison." Hornblower nodded. "Well, my parents were very devoted to each other. After Mother's death Father started drinking. Not steady all day long, but rather locking himself in his study and drinking until he was completely insensible. My brother Reginald is having great difficulty dealing with everything - his own feelings about Mother, the drinking, and a bad harvest that has imperiled the estate."

Hornblower looked confused. "Archie, why is your brother so....?"

"Incompetent?"

Hornblower blushed. "I hadn't meant to say that."

Kennedy laughed. "No, but you were thinking it. Fact is, I had two older brothers. Jonathan was the eldest, and Father absolutely doted on him. They were very much alike, and Jon was groomed from birth to inherit. He died of a fever when he was eighteen."

"So what exactly is the problem?"

"Father dislikes Reg. Quite intensely, actually." Kennedy's eyes clouded with memories. "When Jon died, Father fell apart. Reg was sixteen, and Annie and I were thirteen."

"Annie?" Hornblower interrupted.

"My twin sister."

"I didn't know you had a sister!"

Kennedy shot his friend an exasperated glance. "Do you want to hear the story, or ask questions about my sister?"

Hornblower blushed. "I'm sorry. Pray, continue."

"When Jon died, Father was devastated. For more than two years he refused to even acknowledge Reg as his heir. By that time, I was already in the navy, so everything I know is second hand. Father distrusts Reg; hasn't given him any information or instruction in managing the land. Is it any wonder that Reg is so completely lost now? With Father drunk half the time, and Reg with no idea of how to handle anything, I fear that we are in danger of losing our land." Kennedy's voice had risen in his agitation. "I don't know what I can do to help, but I can't just leave my family to suffer." He looked over at his friend. "And now I've dragged you into this mess!" He dragged a hand over his face. "Well, say something!"

Hornblower turned to look at Kennedy, his expression calm. "As I said before, I believe we have our hands full with this situation." He drained his glass of ale and stood up. "And since we expect a rough time of it, perhaps we should get some sleep now. We can tackle the problems fresh in the morning."

Some of his calmness and composure transferred itself to Kennedy. Just knowing that his friend was with him helped immeasurably. He quickly drank the last of his ale, and then followed Hornblower to their room.

Next morning found Kennedy and Hornblower riding the post chaise away from Portsmouth. They had the chaise to themselves for the first twenty miles, then they were joined by a dour, elderly couple. Their presence effectively stifled any conversation that the two friends might have had, so each was left alone with his thoughts.

Kennedy sat by the window, quietly watching the countryside pass by. Even though it was his brother who had called him home, his thoughts at the moment were entirely focused on his sister. Reg had mentioned that Father was hoping to have Annie married before the year was out, and Kennedy found this urgency puzzling. It
also worried him. In his present condition their father was hardly qualified to choose an appropriate husband for his daughter.

The chaise hit a bump in the road, and Hornblower fell against his friend's side. Kennedy looked down at his friend's face, obscured by the dark curls that fell over it. Hornblower was sound asleep. Kennedy did his best not to disturb him; it was the most peaceful sleep the man had enjoyed in weeks. It was also likely to be the last.

A shout from the outrider caught his attention, and Kennedy leaned out the window to see what was ahead. They were coming up to a village; one that he recognized. Eddingstone. Home.

He gently shook Hornblower awake.

"What? Oh, Archie. What's happening?"

"Nothing, Horatio. We have arrived.

Hornblower stretched as best he could in the confines of the carriage, then looked out the window on his side. "We have arrived? Where?" he asked, a slight lilt of amusement in his voice.

Kennedy looked at his friend and gave an answering smile. "I know it doesn't look like much, but this is my home, after all."

The carriage came to a stop, rocking slightly on its springs. Without waiting for the driver, Kennedy thrust open the door and jumped down. Hornblower followed a little less energetically. His longer legs had surely suffered more during the trip. He went to supervise the unloading of their chests while Kennedy stood looking about in amazement.

"I've been gone for nearly seven years" he said. "And this place hasn't changed one bit!"

Hornblower straightened up from where he had been inspecting one of the chests and looked about him. They were in a small village square, to their right was the green, a small church alongside. To their left a group of small buildings were clustered, including the butcher shop, the blacksmith, a cobbler, and a hostelry. As he watched, a tall man with an impressive head of white hair came out of the hostel and approached the two of them.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. What can I do...." His words and his steps ground to a halt when Kennedy turned to look at him. A moment passed in utter stupefaction before he was able to speak again.

"Mr. Kennedy? Archie?" His face was transformed by a grin when Kennedy walked to him and warmly shook his hand.

"Mr. Gaines! I was hoping that you would still be here. He turned to his friend. "Horatio, this is Mr. Gaines, the innkeeper. He kept me out of more trouble than I care to remember when I was young. Mr. Gaines, this is my friend, Lieutenant Hornblower."

Gaines extended his hand and Hornblower shook it. "An honour, Lieutenant."

"Likewise, sir" Hornblower replied.

Gaines turned back to Kennedy. "If you gentlemen would come inside, I'll send one of my lads to the hall to fetch your father."

Hornblower had take a step towards the welcome of the inn before Kennedy spoke. "No, Gaines. That won't be necessary. If you could arrange transport for our dunnage, we'll walk to the hall."

The innkeeper looked surprised, but he didn't argue. A shout over his shoulder brought two boys running into the yard. At his orders they dragged the sea chests towards the stable. Kennedy bid his good byes to Gaines, and then he and Hornblower set off.

"I hope you don't mind the walk, Horatio. Its barely a mile, and I feel like stretching my legs."

The pair walked in companionable silence for a while. Each was lost in his own thoughts. Kennedy was worried about what he would find at home, and with each step closer his agitation increased. A drunken father, a desperate brother, and God alone knew what was happening with Annie. It was almost like the plot of one of the theatrical farces he had so enjoyed when young. Except this was no play; it was all too real.

Hornblower walked with his head bowed, occasionally sneaking a glance at his friend. Kennedy was obviously preoccupied with something, so Hornblower left him to his thoughts. His own thoughts were certainly agreeable. It was a fine summer day, and he appreciated being ashore on a day like this. He inhaled deeply of the sweet scent of newly mown hay, thinking how different it was from the tangy scent of the ocean. As they walked, Hornblower found himself relaxing more. Maybe this trip is just what I needed, he thought. A few days in the company of friends, with nothing to worry about. Things could be worse.

They had been walking for perhaps fifteen minutes when Kennedy came to a sudden stop. For a moment he simply stared into space, while his friend looked on in concern. Hornblower was on the verge of shaking Kennedy out of the stupor he seemed to have fallen in when his friend came back to the present. He looked at Hornblower with a sheepish grin.

"I was just thinking that maybe this is not one of my better ideas" he said. "Still, nothing ventured....", and he nodded his head off to the right.

Hornblower looked that way and saw, at the end of a lane, an imposing sandstone edifice. The slanting rays of the sun made it glow in the late afternoon light. He swallowed and looked at his friend.

"The Kennedy manse, I presume?"

Kennedy laughed at Hornblower's comment. "None other. Come on, we may as well get started." He laid a hand on Hornblower's arm. "Adventure and adversity, eh, Horatio?"

As they approached the house Hornblower noticed that it was not as impressive as it had seemed from the lane. The stone of the facade was stained with water and lichen in spots, and two of the windows had broken panes. The park surrounding the house was also in a state of disarray. The grass was uncut and the flower beds were overgrown. When he glanced at his friend he saw that Kennedy's jaw was clenched, and his face was grim. Confronted with this physical proof of his family's troubles, he quickened his pace and all but bounded up the steps to the door.

The door creaked on rusty hinges as Kennedy pushed it open. The light from the setting sun lit a layer of dust on every surface in the entry hall. There was not a servant to be seen.

Kennedy took off his cocked hat, set it on the table, and stood looking about him, uncertain what to do. His friend was a steady presence at his back, but this was one time where Hornblower could not take the lead. He had taken two steps toward one of the doors when it was thrown open.

"I am not going to agree to that! You can just forget about it, because I won't allow that to happen!"

The man who had shouted came striding into the hall. He came to a sudden stop at the sight of the two young men. Even a cursory glance was enough to convince Hornblower that this was his friend's brother. He was taller and broader than Kennedy, but the reddish-blonde hair was the same, as was the set of his jaw.

The moment of stunned silence was interrupted by a door slamming above, and Reginald Kennedy came out of his shock.

"Archie?"

Kennedy smiled and stepped forward to shake his brother's hand. Reg was still too surprised to say anything, but the look of relief on his face spoke volumes.

A clatter of footsteps on the stair landing caught the attention of all three men. Before they could react, a gasp sounded from the stairs. Kennedy turned to confront this new presence, just in time to catch the person in his arms as she ran down the steps. Holding her close, he spun the two of them until he faced his friend.

"Horatio, this is my twin sister, Annabelle."