marnanightingale | A Letter from Kingston, January 1802

Apparently,

q_skud_ and I have one brane between us. Our Hornblower universes have coalesced with an audible and distinct sort of damp thud, as when a quantity of tapioca pudding hits your kitchen floor from some height.

Conveniently, our shared mind is generally a filthy one.

Not this week, though. *sigh* This week it's a painful one.

Epistolary fic.

Follows the events of Nature
and Degree.

Contemporary with A Letter From Flanders

Xposted to

hh_slash,

crumpeteers

articlexxix, and

one_hot_lobster.

Kingston, January 1802.

My Dear A~

W~ told me today that he could, if I wished, see that a letter reached you. I wish I had time to puzzle this, or could get him private to ask -- that he should know what I most hated to leave undone and make me such a gift, but time runs ahead of me now, as the very fact of his offer would make plain -- had I not known it already. No more of that -- this letter must reach you more slowly than dispatches reach London and the bare facts will be already in your possession when you read it -- I pray that this will be the only news in them to grieve you.

I hope my conjecture is right -- he will need a friend. They both will -- I think I can ransom their lives from the hangman, but how much more I know not, nor shall know. Pellew will see to H~, I think, as far as his career is concerned, but W~ is quite alone, and this incident must tell against him. If you are not his friend already, be one for my sake. He did what he could for me, and for H~, and would have dissuaded me had I shown the least inclination to hear him.

I once told you that I wished we had not always to be so guarded; that we could let our attachment to one another be more known. I do not regret it now -- at least I leave no-body mired in my shame, cursed to track it about with them forever -- let it all be buried with me -- let them think I was alone.

Did I tell you that that was my only regret in all our friendship, and so now I have none? I always meant to. I hope you knew -- as I hope you knew how dear I held you, for you never would let me tell you so. I can see you now, as clear as clear, turning us away from such deep waters with that half-smile of yours that can mean nothing or else the world.

Forgive me if you can -- I might, by letting H~ hazard himself on an appeal to the truth -- as I know he is determined to do -- be saved myself, and so return us both to you, but the chance seems to me too great, and were he to lose his throw and I to return to you alone -- I think you would not mistake what stood before you for Archie.

I have been faithful to you both, in my fashion, and to the measure of my powers, and pray you will not find me wanting that I lose all else to save him, at the last. I can see no better way.

I must end -- I hear the Doctor outside. Kiss Kitty.

When you think of me, try not to dwell overmuch on this muddle of an exit -- think of me at sea, or prowling with you in Portsmouth. I have been happiest there, by his side -- and by yours.

I am not afraid when I think on that, only glad to be able -- if only this once -- to tell you that I was, and am,

Your A~.