Echoes of Ice by Clonesgirl
Note: This story is set during their first leave together when Edward and Horatio have barely become lovers on the Indy, though of necessity time spent together has been brief.At right is a portrait of Caroline. She is turned away from her husband and holding out her hand toward the lover she can never have (this story has nothing to do with the real Lord Exmouth, or his wife).
Edward Pellew would never forget that overheard conversation. It was a warm evening and many of the guests had wandered out to the garden, now illuminated by myriad lamps. He had gone in search of Caroline. However, as he had rounded a bend in the path down near the lake.....
"For heaven's sake, Daniel, you know what she's like!"
"Yes, but she's such a fascinating creature."
"Who just happens to be married."
"Since when did a wedding ring ever stop anybody? Besides, she doesn't really act married."
"That's because she's not - well not really. Poor old Edward! Little did he know what his betrothed was really like!"
"You mean... no conjugal relations?"
"From what I hear none at all."
"But she's so beautiful. I can't believe she could be as cold as all that."
"Oh, she's not, but you'd never prove that by poor Edward. Oh, no! The sole object of all dearest Caroline's affection is George."
"You mean Sir George Blackwood?"
"That's him. She's been in love with him for years. Only problem was he wasn't really in love with her and went off to spend a year on the Continent. When he returned it was with a sweet little French fiancé. Meanwhile poor Edward had been in love with the lovely Caroline for at least three years - between voyages of course. He'd just been promoted to first when George became engaged. Caroline was so incensed that she finally agreed to marry him just to spite George, not that he noticed of course as he only had eyes for Marie-Louise. Anyway, she soon realised what a mistake she'd made. However, it was far too late as it seems her daddy was rather fond of young Edward and thought he had the stuff to go far."
"You mean Sir Joshua?"
"The one and only. So the doting Sir Joshua promptly settled the whole estate on his new son-in-law and had the house built for them as well. Of course Edward only had what he could earn from His Majesty but Caroline was well endowed by her doting daddy and had an independent income. Needless to say she hated the house, complained that it was far too small for entertaining on the grand scale she envisaged and insisted on a far larger staff than the place warranted. As for poor Edward...."
"No wedded bliss."
"None at all I should think. Mind you, she does a perfect doting wife act in front of guests while continually scheming to break up George's marriage."
"I thought they must be so happy, Caroline and Edward."
"Huh! She'll never give up on George. Notice how she flirts with him even in front of his wife? Poor deluded darling thinks there's still hope for her."
"You mean because there are no children as yet?"
"No doubt. And no doubt that is the reason her own marriage has not borne fruit. Of course being a beautiful woman she firmly believes that all men must fall in love with her."
"She seems to like me."
"My dear Daniel, Caroline *seems* to like everyone. Oh, don't look so disappointed. *I* like you."
"You do?"
"Of course! I'm fascinated with artists. Now tell me of your latest creation."
Of course he'd known all along that his marriage was a sham but until that evening he'd not quite realised just how much of a mockery it really was. He'd somehow maintained the vain hope that one day Caroline would turn to him with love in her eyes; that she'd open her arms to him and welcome his embrace. What a fool he'd been! From that time onward, outside of running the estate, he'd spent as much time as possible at sea. However, even at sea he was haunted by the nights he'd spent at home when they'd lain in the same bed; how she had never once welcomed his touch even though he'd tried to please her; how she had never even offered him as much as a kiss let alone anything more. In the early days when his desire for her had overmastered him she had closed her eyes and refused to look at him, immediately afterwards rising to cleanse herself of his seed. He had felt it then - that certain coldness around the edge of his heart. And when she'd returned to their bed to sleep, as she always did, with three feet of space separating them, ice had seemed to pervade his whole being. However, like a fool he had continued with the delusion that he'd wake on the morrow to find his beautiful wife in his arms. But that was never to be, Caroline saw to that.
How often had he stood at the mantelpiece in his night clothes and gazed at the lovely bed with its lace drapes - all made to Caroline's specifications, as was everything else in the house - and his wife lying on the far side of it, and felt nothing but revulsion? Indeed there might as well have been a six foot high wall in the centre of the bed, he'd reflected. He would have a drink to warm his belly, but it never warmed his heart, or assuaged the longing in his soul for the warmth of a single embrace. No, that was never to be. Not with Caroline.
He remembered the time his ailing mother had come to visit for a week. Caroline had been the soul of graciousness - and yet his mother had left after only one day, refusing to even say why. As she had entered the coach she had patted his head as she had when he was a small boy and murmured, "My poor Edward. I shall pray for you." She had known. He had no idea how she knew but she did, and he'd felt humiliated beyond belief that his mother had somehow discerned the bitter truth of his marriage.
He'd always wanted to laugh when men said they envied him for having such a beautiful wife. Little did they know that he'd have happily settled for a plain one who at least cared about him. In a way he'd wished she would leave him, but she would never do that as long as George Blackwood was living nearby. She'd lived only for George, never for him and, after all, he'd been only a lowly naval officer when they'd married even if he'd hoped to make captain one day.
Now, once more, he stood at the same mantelpiece in the same bedchamber he had shared with his wife, brandy in hand as he contemplated the large bed. Long gone were the lace draperies which had once adorned it and in their place deep red velvet trimmed with gold and blue tassels and gold fringes. The matching window drapes and cushions gave the room a richness of texture that was a far cry from its past lacy fripperies.
Swallowing the last of his drink, he set the glass aside, removed his dressing gown and climbed into bed.
"Mmm, I thought you were never coming to bed," the sleepy figure murmured, nonetheless holding out welcoming arms to him.
"Forgive me. I was merely contemplating the past."
"The past?"
"A very old and very cold past."
"Then allow me to bring you back to the present, sir."
Warm arms enfolded him; warm, knowing hands that sought his bare skin touched him everywhere with affection; warm lips and frolicsome tongue offered him kisses; a lovely hot and swelling groin met his own burgeoning heat with a wanton delight while words that spoke of endearment and delicious lust whispered softly in his ears. Gentle lips found his nipples and suckled there until he could bear no more of the sweet torture and turned the tables on his passionate, young lover.
Long-fingered hands sought out the centre of his need, oiling him so lovingly he wanted to die with the joy of it; and a beautiful, young, long-limbed body opened to him so willingly, so needfully that words caught in his throat.
Warmth and tightness enclosed him, squeezing him hard in welcome and begging yet more. Desire sang through his veins and filled his whole body with a carefree lightness of being that made him want to throw back his head and laugh; long, long legs entrapped him, wrapping high around his back as this most wonderful of lovers arched up to him, taking him ever deeper and entreating him for more.
Ecstatic whimpers filled his ears as he was gripped hard, lightning filled his being and shot deliriously deep into the other's needy, accepting body to set it, too, alight as streams of silken warmth filled his hand, letting him know that he had more than satisfied his marvellous lover.
*
Later, his lover's head resting on his breast as he stroked the boy's soft curls, he had unwittingly glanced over to the far side of the large bed to the place his late wife had once occupied.
"What is it? What troubles you, my Edward?"
He had not realised that long moments had passed while he had stared at the same spot.
"Nothing, my darling. Nothing at all."
But the boy had somehow known; had somehow divined his thoughts and swiftly reversed their positions, gathering him into the warmth of his arms. He had not even sought to protest, instead letting his young lover hold him.
A whisper as soft as a sigh reached his ears.
"Say that again," he murmured.
"I said I love you, sir."
Something shattered inside him. Something changed forever.
He gazed into the boy's large, dark eyes with their long lashes - such incredible eyes that held not a trace of guile as they returned his gaze with concern. He beheld the sharpness of jaw and the determined chin, the straight nose and voluptuous pink lips whose kisses could drive him wild with desire. His eyes fell on the soft curls framing the beautiful face and falling gently to the broad shoulders, the lamplight now highlighting them in shades of copper. To think that he had once believed his wife to be the most beautiful thing he had ever beheld - how wrong he had been, he reflected. He had asked God to send him someone to love, but never had he dreamt it would be in the form of this remarkable lad who shared so much of his life and gave him so much in return. That his lover was male made things more difficult but at the same time more rewarding in so many ways in that they could serve together and need not be separated by distance, at least for the time being.
Burying his face in his lover's warm neck and inhaling his scent like an opiate, bittersweet tears leaked out of his eyes to fall on the boy's bare skin. He found himself gathered even closer, legs as well as arms now holding him tight and rocking him a little as all the coldness of his wife's past rejection seemed to well up and flow out of him.
He had tried not to but nevertheless he had grown to hate Caroline. Now, in the warmth of his lover's firm embrace, he found that he could finally forgive her. He remembered the letter which had reached him in the Mediterranean informing him of her death. By the time he had reached home she had long been buried. Later he had visited her elaborate mausoleum, already under construction and paid for by her grieving father. Strangely, he had cried, not for what was but for what might have been. However, when he had learnt the circumstances of her death he had almost felt like laughing. She was no sailor and hated the water, yet more than one of the servants had seen her taking the boat out by herself. Later they had spotted the boat empty and drifting in the centre of the lake and a frantic search had begun. Her body had finally been found the next day among the rushes at the eastern shore. He had also learned that, by coincidence, George Blackwood had announced only the day before that his pretty Marie-Louise was finally expecting their first child. Many months later he had returned from a voyage to the West Indies to learn that poor Marie-Louise had died in childbirth. While publicly expressing his grief at her death, privately he had laughed at the irony of it all, though it had not been a happy sound.
Now, he found his face being turned up, his tender lover raining kisses on his wet cheeks before the lovely lips descended to his mouth and he was lost once more in the luscious joining that left him breathless and happy and wanted.
"Dearest Edward, what is it that makes you weep so? Have I hurt you in any way?"
He smiled, shaking his head before kissing the darling boy and feeling like the luckiest man alive. In the morning he would explain even if it shamed him for his lover deserved to know the truth. For now it was enough to realise that when he again departed in a week's time this dear and beautiful lad would go with him, and even if an ocean separated them in future, he knew with a certainty that filled his heart and his whole being with warmth that he would never again know the coldness of a lover's rejection.
