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By the time Horatio Hornblower entered the Rose and Crown to meet with his shipmate, the latter (having already procured them a room for the duration of their shore leave), had gone on to finish off more than his share of what appeared to be a large beef and onion pie.
Archie Kennedy, almost recumbent in his chair, his hands laced over his stomach seemed to be on the verge of sleep and made little effort to move as a weather-beaten Horatio crossed the room to his companion’s table and pulled out a chair with a disgruntled, “Hrumph.”
“And a good evening to you too, Mr. Hornblower.” Even half asleep, Archie’s customary sarcasm did not fail him.
Hornblower nodded in Archie’s direction, causing water that had not yet had time to soak into his already sodden bicorn, to create something of a miniature waterfall as it cascaded onto the table. Horatio quickly removed it and proceeded to shake his head, sending droplets of rainwater in all directions, including Archie’s.
“Do you know who you remind me of H’ratio?” Archie asked, sitting up and wiping his face with a grin already tugging at his lips.
“I couldn’t possible imagine, Archie,” came Horatio’s clipped response as he removed his sodden Greatcoat.
Undeterred from his teasing by Horatio’s apparent annoyance, Archie continued, “You put me in mind of Barnaby, my family’s Old English Sheepdog. He’d shake himself in just that way when we let him back into the house after a bit of weather.”
“I am honoured indeed, Mr. Kennedy, to be likened to a dog.” Horatio’s tone made it abundantly clear the reverse was true.
“Come now, Horatio,” Archie countered, “I jest with you. And in any case, Barnaby was the best friend I ever had,” pausing a moment in thought, he added, “…until I met you.”
Before Horatio had time to formulate a response, Archie was up and out of his seat, “Allow me to make amends – a drink to help warm you.”
Horatio nodded his assent and began to pick at the remainder of the pie with a fork.
Archie returned with drinks in hand, passed one to Horatio and they sat sipping in what should have been companionable silence. However it soon became clear to Archie that Hornblower had more on his mind than the soaking he had received on his way from the Indefatigable to the tavern. He was brooding over something.
“Horatio, why so glum?” He questioned, “We’re on shore leave. This was the stuff of our dreams when in France: to be back home. Our time is our own for a few precious days. And you want to waste what time we have being down-in-the-dumps?”
“But it isn’t.” Horatio grumbled.
“What isn’t?” Archie asked, now confused.
“My time – it’s not my own. At least not all of it. That’s what Captain Pellew spoke to me of, after you and the rest of the officers were dismissed.”
“Oh?”
“He’s asked me to accompany him to some kind of ball at Admiralty House tomorrow night. It wasn’t an order exactly, but I could hardly refuse him.”
“I see. And for you a social gathering is more intimidating than a fleet of French Corvettes to larboard, eh Horatio?” The mocking tone was back in Archie’s voice, he was powerless to prevent it. By now Archie was accustomed to Pellew taking every opportunity to show off his protégé. He bore Horatio no ill will for it, though Archie did love a good party. The irony of the situation was not lost on him either: the only setting in which Archie more than matched Horatio’s skill was the one in which no one of any import would ever see him shine.
“I wouldn’t have quite put it like that, Archie…but yes. And this “gathering” is more unnerving than usual.”
“How so?”
“The Captain tells me that Major Edrington will be there, with his niece. He also made some remarks about the expectations placed upon gentlemen in such situations when it comes to asking the ladies to… dance.” Horatio virtually shuddered at the word.
Unable to keep it in, Archie let out a belly laugh, which only served to deepen Horatio’s frown. “Poor Horatio,” Archie managed, valiantly attempting to school his features into a more sombre expression.
“I can’t dance, Archie.” Horatio sighed. “And certainly not with the Major’s niece. I shall make quite the show of myself. I will disgrace the Major, my Captain and my whole ship.”
Seeing the depth of Horatio’s worry, Archie attempted to comfort his socially challenged friend. “It’s not so hard, Horatio. Just watch what the other men are doing and copy them.”
“Not hard for you perhaps, but I get clumsy when I am nervous. This does not bode well for the coordination needed to execute dance steps.” Horatio rolled his eyes and hunched his shoulders.
“Besides,” he added, “Captain Pellew says there’s a new dance that’s become all the rage at parties of late. The Waltz, I believe he called it. If it’s new, how am I expected to know it and perform it with any degree of success?”
“Interesting,” Archie replied. “The Waltz, you say. I suppose it’s new in those circles… surprising though.”
“What do you mean?” Horatio frowned.
Archie leaned in conspiratorially, “Some consider the dance morally questionable.”
“Archie?” Horatio questioned.
But Archie said no more, just flashed a grin that only added to Hornblower’s apprehension.
Archie spent the next hour trying to pull Horatio out of the doldrums, to little avail. Horatio was as stubborn in his misery as he was in everything else. Finally, Archie struck upon a plan.
“Perhaps it’s time we retired for the night, Horatio,” Archie suggested.
“It’s still early yet. Don’t you want to enjoy the evening a little longer?” Horatio questioned.
“As if I can relax with all that thinking and fretting going on across the table from me.”
“I’m sorry, Archie. I shouldn’t let my misfortune sully your fun.”
Archie made an exasperated noise as he stood and rounded the table, urging Horatio to his feet. Clapping a hand on Horatio’s back, he sighed, “Come on, you great fool. Come with me.”
Horatio allowed Archie to lead them to the end of the room and up the stairs to their lodgings.
Once inside, Horatio hung his hat and coat beside Archie’s on the pegs beside the door. Beginning his nighttime routine, he next removed his stock and began unbuttoning his waistcoat, hanging them both on the back of a convenient chair.
“It’s not time for bed yet, Horatio. We have work to do.” Horatio turned to see Archie gripping the table from one end. “Help me with this, will you?”
“And just what do you plan on doing with it?” Horatio asked, beyond confused at Archie’s request.
“Just moving it over there…to the corner. We need a little more space.”
None the wiser for Archie’s answer, Horatio obliged his friend’s strange desire to rearrange their room’s furnishings, taking the other end of the table and together they maneuvered it to the suggested location.
“That should do it.” Archie affirmed with a nod before moving to the window and drawing the curtains.
“I’m still not sure what you have in mind, Archie.”
“I would have thought that was obvious, Mr. Hornblower: I’m going to teach you to waltz.” Loosening his stock, Archie stepped into the middle of the room and gestured for Horatio to join him.
“I just want you to watch me, to begin with. Stand here, to my right…yes, a little further way…that’s good. Now, watch what I do.”
“Wait, Archie. How do you know this dance so well?”
“You’re forgetting my misspent youth, H’ratio. We theatre-types liked to try new things. I may have been young, but I learned quickly.”
Archie began humming a tune, his arms outstretched and his feet were moving in time with the music.
Horatio shook his head glumly in Archie’s direction.
“What’s wrong now, Mr. Hornblower?” Archie enquired, as he continued to “waltz” around his gloomy friend.
“You are aware of my difficulties with music. It’s all just noise to me, Archie.”
“The tune doesn’t matter, Horatio. All you need concern yourself with is the beat. You’ve seen enough soldiers marching in time these past weeks to be equal to the task. The only difference with this is that you count to three.”
From Horatio’s answering expression, he did not appear convinced. Undeterred, Archie ploughed on, “Watch closely, Horatio…one, two, three…one, two, three…one, two, three…do you see?”
“I suppose. But seeing and doing are two distinctly different things, Mr. Kennedy.”
“Best get on with the doing then, don’t you think?” Came Archie’s quick rejoinder, coming to a halt in front of the brunette.
“We shall have to get quite close, Horatio,” Archie informed him as he stepped forward, into Horatio’s personal space.
“Is that why the dance is considered - how did you put it - morally questionable?”
“Indeed, sir. Dance partners do not as a rule, adopt so close a stance… at least in polite company,” Archie informed him with a slight quirk of an eyebrow. “I shall take the role of the man for now…don’t scowl, Horatio. It is necessary if you wish to be properly instructed.”
With that, Archie slid an arm around Horatio’s back, coming to rest close to his waist. “Now you put your left hand on my arm… the right, yes… a little higher, close to my shoulder. Exactly so.”
Horatio shuffled uncomfortably.
“Our free hands must come together, like this,” Archie continued, clasping Horatio’s hand in his and pulling them into position at shoulder height.
The feel of Horatio’s weathered skin against his own sent shock waves of unanticipated pleasure coursing down Archie’s arm and he swallowed thickly. Horatio too seemed startled at the contact, but checked his reaction before Archie had time to fully reckon it.
“I feel ridiculous, Archie.”
“You’ll feel more ridiculous when Major Edrington’s niece is standing in front of you and you have no idea what to do with her.” Archie attempted to joke, but his voice sounded high and strained and his humour fell flat.
“That is true, Archie. I should be mortified,” Horatio agreed.
“Well then.” Archie affirmed. “Now, when we begin, I will step forward with my left foot and take a step forward. You will start with your right foot and step back. Next is a side step out, I will do so with my right, you with your left. Lastly, you will bring your right foot to your left, and I will mirror your actions with my left foot. Then we shift our weight and we repeat the process, starting with the other foot. Understand?”
“Clear as mud, Archie.” Horatio only partially jested.
“You’ll get the hang of it. Just remember in all the steps we’re mirroring each other’s actions. For now, just think right, left, right…one, two, three.”
“Lead on, Mr. Kennedy.”
And so he did. At a snail’s pace, with Archie counting the steps and Horatio’s eyes fixed on their feet as they had been from the moment Archie had begun his instruction.
The first couple of rounds of three completed without incident, Archie was quick to praise his uncertain student, “You see Horatio… you’re doing it! Now again…one…two…three, one…two…three.” As Archie turned them slowly about the room, Horatio’s stiff movements began to relax a fraction.
“Excellent work, Mr. Hornblower. Now you must raise your eyes… To me, Horatio, to me.”
As Horatio’s gaze travelled up to meet his blond friend’s Archie felt warm all over, suddenly his palms became sweaty and as their gazes locked Archie was struck with the feeling that this had not been one of his better ideas. What were you thinking, Archie? He berated himself. You weren’t thinking with your head, certain sure. And yet he wasn’t able to drag his eyes from Horatio’s, no matter how desperately he knew he should. The intensity of the moment threatened to overwhelm him as he realised he was no longer counting the beat, when suddenly a sharp pain in his foot broke the spell.
“Ow!”
“My apologies, Mr. Kennedy.” Horatio quickly removed his foot from Archie’s, dropping his hand as he did so. “Truly, I am sorry Archie.”
A blush had risen in Horatio’s cheeks, which Archie ascribed to embarrassment at his clumsiness.
“Better mine than the Major’s niece, I suppose.” Archie’s voice was a little shaky but he hoped it would go unnoticed.
“Indeed, but I would never wish to cause you injury.” The earnest tone of Horatio’s voice only melted Archie’s heart all the more.
Clearing his throat, he pasted on a grin and replied, “But of course, Horatio. I know that.”
Horatio seemed mollified by the assertion and he returned Archie’s smile.
“Perhaps we should reverse our roles so that I can try the steps as I will be required to perform them at the Ball?” Horatio asked.
Avoiding his eyes and instead fixing upon a blurry area just to the left of Horatio’s head, Archie positioned his free hand on Horatio’s upper-arm and began again to count time.
Horatio watched their feet until he felt accustomed to the reversal of the steps, and then raised his head upwards. Archie was acutely aware of the movement but still did not dare meet his gaze. They repeated the steps a number of times, with Horatio’s head dropping to his feet every once in a while so as to avoid another injury to his friend.
“You mustn’t do that when you are dancing with a woman, Horatio. She might get the wrong impression as to what you are looking at,” Archie warned.
“Whatever do you mea…oh. Oh I see. I am obliged to you. That would be a most unfortunate – and incorrect - assessment.” Horatio immediately raised his head up once more.
“And don’t hunch your shoulders… your spine should be straight, shoulders back.”
“You are a most patient teacher, Archie. Thank you.”
Archie could not help the wide grin that overtook him to be praised by Horatio. So often it was Horatio who assisted him with tasks. It felt immeasurably good to be able to return the favour, no matter the cost to his emotional well-being.
“You are most welcome, sir. And quite the attentive student, I might add… when you’re not staring at your feet.”
Summoning up all his courage, Archie tore his eyes away and dropped his arms to his sides. Stepping back from Horatio, he licked his lips. “Well, I think that’s enough practice. I’m sure you’ll acquit yourself most admirably when the time comes, Mr. Hornblower. Most admirably indeed…”
He was babbling and he knew it, but anything was preferable to the silence… or worse still if he had flung himself against Horatio as his heart desired. What then? Rejection certainly, likely an end to the friendship that had come to mean everything to him. Even the noose, should Horatio inform anyone of Archie’s actions. Archie smiled wryly that the loss of Horatio’s friendship frightened him a great deal more than a possible Court Marshall and death. He was hopelessly in love.
Long had he tried to deny the depth of his feelings for his stoic companion but the sorry business in Muzillac had forced him to acknowledge his most unnatural desires. When he’d been given the order by Major Edrington to blow up the bridge before Horatio was safely across it, he’d stalled for time. Edrington knew Horatio and Archie were friends and had kindly indulged him as long as was safe to…but when the time came to light the fuse, Archie simply couldn’t do it. He could not be responsible for an action that would likely result in Horatio’s death. Matthews, bless his soul, had stepped in and taken the burden from him.
When he had caught sight of Horatio on the horizon, Archie had reacted without thought for his own safety. All that mattered was getting to Horatio. And if he were to die, better to do it with Horatio by his side than live his life without him. Thankfully, the fates had been kind and they had both been spared. The look of gratitude Horatio had given him when they got back to the Indy only served to confirm the rightness of Archie’s actions in his mind and it was in that moment Archie silently pledged his body, his very life to keeping Horatio safe if it were in his power to do so. His heart Archie realised with perfect clarity, he had pledged long ago.
“…Well I don’t know about you, sir but I am quite ready for bed. It has been a long day.” Turning away from Horatio and working at the buttons on his waistcoat, he tried to regain his composure a measure.
“I daresay you’re right, Archie. But I must thank you again for your kindness and your patience with me this evening. I know I am not always agreeable company. Sometimes I wonder how you tolerate me at all.”
Squashing down the natural and vehement contradiction that bubbled up unbidden in his throat, Archie chose instead to fall back on his usual jocularity – it was safer by far.
“It is indeed a hardship. I can only pray that someday I shall be rewarded for my pain and suffering.” As he finished his declaration, Archie risked turning towards Horatio just enough so that his sometimes-gullible friend could see the twinkle in his eye that signaled Archie’s teasing.
Horatio rolled his eyes and shook his head, smiling fondly in Archie’s direction. Gratified that he had not been misunderstood, Archie readied himself for sleep. Sharing a bed with Horatio this night would no doubt be more problematic for Archie than it had been on previous occasions.
To his dismay, he was not proved wrong. While Horatio lay lightly snoring, Archie was unable to find the same peace. And try as he might to stay on his side of the bed, the well-worn ticking beneath them seemed to conspire against him, forcing at least some part of his body to press against Horatio's. The best he could do was to lie perfectly still to minimise any untoward movements his treacherous body might make.
Lord knows how long Archie laid there, his legs threatening to cramp from their stiff position but eventually sleep claimed him. It seemed only moments later that he awoke to feel a great warmth at his back…and an arm – Horatio’s arm – wrapped around his chest. At some point in the night, Horatio had curled around Archie’s body and was now virtually nuzzling him, sending gentle puffs of hot breath against his neck and making the short hairs there stand on end. Archie thought his heart might burst at the tender embrace he found himself to be in and it was all he could do to keep his breathing level. This was as close as he would ever get to his dream and he determined to savour every precious moment.
It was both the ultimate torment and the most glorious night of Archie’s life. At first Archie had feared that the pounding of his heart would wake his slumbering friend but Horatio showed no signs of stirring. Gradually, Archie’s body began to relax and mold itself to Horatio’s. In a moment of daring, Archie reached back and covered the arm that embraced him with his own. As he lightly stroked the back of Horatio’s hand with his thumb, Archie felt Horatio pull him closer as if in response to his touch. Logic and reason told him that was it was the body’s natural reaction and nothing to do with Archie’s presence specifically, but it didn’t hamper his ability to revel in the increased contact.
Much as Archie wished he could will the night on forever, eventually dawn light crept into the room through a crack in the curtains. Archie knew that although Horatio was a heavy sleeper, he was also an early riser and would soon awaken. To prevent any awkwardness regarding Horatio’s chosen sleeping position (for no man could be held responsible for what he did when unconscious), Archie decided he should feign sleep until Horatio had woken and had time to extricate himself without need for explanation. Ever-so-carefully, Archie removed his arm from Horatio’s, and tried to claim a few minutes sleep.
His plan worked splendidly, and although Archie felt the loss of the body beside him most acutely, he knew it was for the best.
“Good morning, Mr. Kennedy. I trust you slept well?” Greeted Archie when he at last determined it to be safe to crack open an eye.
“Like a log, Horatio.” The lie came easily, borne out of necessity. And the last thing he needed was Horatio fussing over him; fearful he’d had a fit or the like.
They met back at the Rose and Crown in the late afternoon to share a drink before retiring to their lodgings once more so Horatio could dress for his engagement at Admiralty House. As Archie stared out of the window, he felt his mood begin to sour. He attempted to lose himself in watching the hurly-burly of people that passed by on the street below but a part of him was acutely aware of Horatio’s movements in the room, which only seemed to increase the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Well… how do I look?”
Horatio’s question brought Archie’s preoccupation to an end and he turned to regard his friend. The sight of Horatio in his best uniform was breathtaking to Archie. The whites almost blinding and the wool jacket brushed to within an inch of its life made Archie long to reach out and touch it. Fearing he’d already stared too long, he cleared his throat quickly and gave the only response he knew Horatio wanted to hear.
“Every inch the Officer and Gentleman, sir.” Archie felt as though the grin he had pasted on his face might crack at any moment, but thankfully Horatio seemed unaware of his discomfort as he grinned back at him.
“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy. I suppose I should be on my way.”
“Indeed, Mr. Hornblower. You don’t want to keep Captain Pellew waiting. Give Edrington my best, won’t you?”
“I shall be sure to, Archie. And I don’t expect to be late. I shall no doubt be planning my escape at the earliest opportunity.”
Archie knew Horatio was attempting to poke fun at himself but he just couldn’t bring himself to join in, merely nodding and holding his smile until Horatio was out of the room and the door closed behind him.
Archie was no fool. He understood himself well and knew that his wretched mood was not because of jealousy at the opportunity afforded Horatio by the ball. Rather it was a jealousy of the ladies who would no doubt swoon over the dashing young Officer. The women Horatio would take into his arms and sweep across the dance floor. He felt sick at the thought of it…then angry with himself for his uncharitable feelings. He did the only thing he could in such a situation: drink.
By the time Horatio returned from the ball, Archie was slumped in a corner, glassy-eyed, and nursing the latest in a long line of ales if the empty tankards littering the table were anything to go by.
He protested when Hornblower attempted to get him to his feet and back up to their room.
“I can stand unaided, sir. Kindly unhand me.”
It was true that Archie as a rule, could hold his drink far better than most sailors Horatio had encountered, but he was not usually unpleasant when in his cups: melancholy sometimes, but not unpleasant.
Horatio followed him up the staircase and into their room. Once the door was closed and the bolt drawn across, Archie turned to Horatio, his face red and his voice gentler.
“I’m sorry, Horatio. Please forgive my outburst.”
“It’s already forgiven. Are you feeling unwell, Archie?”
Archie sat down on the bed. “My mood’s a little dark tonight. Nothing more. I did not mean to snap at you.”
“It’s fine, Archie,” Horatio assured him, crossing the room to sit beside him.
“So, how was the Ball?” Archie tried to make his enquiry sound light and genuine.
“Interminable,” was Horatio’s immediate response. “The Captain introduced me to so many people it made my head spin. I know I shall never remember their names if I meet them again. The Major was in fine form, naturally. He asked me to pass along his respects to you and hopes you are well.”
“That was kind of him,” Archie replied, his tone flat. “And the dancing, Horatio – how did you fair?”
Horatio sighed. “I think, thanks to your expert tutelage, the ruse that I knew what I was doing held up. There were no injuries to anyone’s feet, at least,” he quipped.
“And did you avail yourself of the opportunity to dance with many fine ladies?” Archie heard the challenge in his voice and winced that he had not been able to hide it better.
“Archie – have I done something to upset you? Please tell me or I know I shall do it again.”
Archie looked across at Horatio; his face was a mask of concern; his brow knitted together, his eyes wide and dark. Again shame and guilt washed over him, causing him to drop Horatio’s gaze. He was not worthy of this man’s friendship, let alone his love.
“I’m just being a fool, Horatio. You are blameless.”
Without warning, Horatio put his hand over Archie’s causing him to start.
“I would have preferred to have you as my dancing partner,” he told Archie solemnly.
“Don’t be silly, Horatio-” Archie began but any further words died on his lips as he met Horatio’s gaze and saw the veracity of his statement reflected in Horatio’s eyes.
“Would you do me the honour, Mr. Kennedy?” Horatio asked, lifting Archie’s hand in his.
“But there’s no music, Horatio.” Archie’s voice was shaking with fear, uncertainty and the smallest glimmer of hope.
“Didn’t you tell me the music didn’t matter?” Horatio reminded him with a cautious grin.
Archie’s answering smile could have eclipsed the sun as they rose together and moved to the centre of the room. They fumbled a little as both attempted to assume the position of the person who would lead, which caused them both to chuckle nervously.
“Perhaps this would be better suited for our needs?” Horatio suggested, wrapping both his arms around Archie and pulling him close.
“I think you’re right,” Archie breathed into Horatio’s shoulder as he did likewise. “But Horatio-”
“Later, Archie. There’s time enough for talking later.”
And as they found their own rhythm together, Archie couldn’t have agreed more.