They talked indifferently for a space, with Hornblower asking questions about the Chichester cottage that Bush lived in with his sisters...
He had sisters who devoted all their attention to him whenever it was possible, and he was used to it. At home he took their ministrations for granted...
After living a month at the Chichester cottage, of nothing to do except to weed the garden, and sleeping for twelve hours...
-Excerts from Lieutenent Hornblower
He stopped right outside the small fence, and just looked at it. It was a two floor, stone cottage with a decent sized yard with a garden for vegetables and a chicken coop. It wasn't much, but when he had no ship to be on, it was home. He heard the door open and slam shut again as a flurry of brown skirt ran towards him. Two slender arms engulfed him. "Oh, William! I'm so glad you're back!" When she finally let go, Lt. William Bush held his eldest sister, Elinor, at arm's length. She was a good two inches taller than him, but had the same dark hair that she kept tied back in a neat bun, and blue eyes that crinkled at the edges when she smiled, as she was doing now. "Come on then," she said, pulling him by the hand towards the house, "They're so anxious to see you. Anne has been refusing to eat, and Lizzie is using her 'shaky hands' as an excuse not to do her share of the chores."
They were barely through the front door before the sounds of running feet could be heard, followed immediately by a woman with a mane of dark loose curls. William had managed to set his bag down before the third Bush child threw herself into his arms. She held him so tight the that a few of his wounds flared up in pain again. But he did his best to ignore it as he returned the embrace. "I'm so happy you're home!" She said into his shoulder.
She smiled at him and brushed some of her unruly hair from her face before turning and yelling into the house. "Anne! He's here!"
Elinor hissed through her teeth. "Lizzie, what I have said about shouting?"
Whether proper or not, her call had the desired effect. A delicate figure appeared in the doorway of the drawing room, holding a book. Anne, the youngest, mostly resembled their mother who had died in giving birth to her. Her hair was a golden blonde, and on her heart-shaped face sat a button nose. But her eyes were an identical deep blue to her brother's and sisters'. Upon seeing her older brother, the nineteen-year-old girl let out a high-pitched squeal and took her turn to give him a hug, all the while still holding onto the book. Letting him go, she looked up at him (she was the only one in the family actually shorter than him) with large, adoring eyes. But when she gave him a more scrutinising look over, she frowned. "Oh, Will! Your coat looks so worn, and here, there's a tear!"
Elinor stepped forward and made a "tsk tsk" noise. "Indeed! We'll have to get that mended for you." Before he could get a word in edgewise, Elinor practically ripped the coat from his shoulders.
Lizzie then clicked her tongue. "And that shirt, too, needs working on." Without ceremony she forced him to lift his arms up so she could remove the white shirt. After doing so the three women let a out a chorus of gasps. He looked at them, confusedly. "What's the matter?" Then he realised that with his chest exposed, they have just seen the scars and yet red wounds he had received on the Renown. He smiled at them reassuringly. "It's nothing, really."
"Nothing!?" Shrieked Lizzie.
"If it was anything mortal, I would not be here before you now, would I?" Looking at their yet wide eyes, he knew he had not convinced them. He sighed. "Well, at least allow me the decency to go to my room and change before you try to deprive me of my trousers."
"Oh, yes of course," Elinor said, getting over her horror. "I've set out some of your clothes for you, and I'll send one of the other girls up, you'll want a shave I imagine."
Grabbing his bag, he nodded. He brushed past his sisters and went up the stairs to his room. During his long absences his sisters managed to keep his room clean and cobweb free, the sheets on the bed were freshly washed, awaiting his return. And on the bed were the clothes Elinor had set out. He smiled to himself. Just because he was a man use to wearing a uniform, she always assumed that he had no other sense of fashion. He removed his boots, changed out of the blue trousers and into the pair of tan ones. He next took a look at himself in the mirror over the bureau. Inspecting his wounds again he tried to imagine if his sisters had seen him when they weren't even that healed. Anne might have fainted. Laughing at this idea, he reached back and removed his long hair from the pigtail he usually kept it in. He brushed his hair and retied as a simply ponytail with a black ribbon. The newly freed strands were already beginning to curl at the ends.
He grabbed the linen shirt off the bed and flung it over his head just as someone knocked on the door. He bade her enter, and Anne stepped in, a water filled pitcher and basin in her hands, and shaving supplies tucked under her arm. He took them from her and thanked her. She lingered, biting her lip. "Whatever is it?"
"I just hope that I didn't hurt you when I embraced you."
He smiled at her, thinking that of any of them hers was the least forceful hug. "It's all right. I'm fine, really."
"All right," Anne smiled back at him. "Well, Elinor is fixing dinner, I better go help her." And she left the room.
William finished his dressing by tucking in the shirt and putting on a green waistcoat. After he shaved, he went down stairs to join the girls for dinner. Anne was setting plates around the rectangular wooden table, as Elinor was scooping boiled potatoes out of the pot and into a bowl. Lizzie was sitting already, just waiting. Not that Lizze was a lazy person, quite energetic in fact, but she could not stand doing "house work" she preferred to be outside, getting dirty in the gardens. William would never admit to playing favourites among his dear sisters, but it was with Lizzie to whom he was closest, even though she was nearly nine years his junior.
The dinner table was relatively quiet during the meal, even though Anne's eyes were obviously burning with questions. He figured Elinor must have had said something to the effect that they ought not bother him with such inquiries so shortly after his return. He wouldn't have minded either way. By the time everyone was finished and they started cleaning up, he finally felt the effects of the long carriage journey. He was now far too used to the rolling sea to find the bumpy roads to be comfortable transportation. "I think, ladies, I shall retire for the evening." Before going back up to his room, he kissed each in turn.
On the staircase Lizzie followed him and grabbed his wrist. "I'm sorry, Will."
He turned toward her. "For what?"
"Not exactly a warm and friendly 'welcome home' dinner."
He smiled at her. "It was fine, really."
She licked her lips and continued. "It's just that we don't like to think about how the only reason we have this house to live in, and food to eat is because our brother is out risking his life. And seeing those scars...it was scary."
"Now Lizzie..."
"What will happen if you do die in battle? None of us are married, we have no other male relatives close enough who'd be willing to support us. I may have to become lady of the night! Not to mention that I'd miss you terribly."
"Lizzie! Never, do you hear me, talk like that. I am quite certain that you will never have to take such...drastic measures."
She smirked. "Well, if I do have to take such 'drastic measures' I'll make sure I reside at a port to keep sailors and officers alike happy. In your memory of course."
Not liking at all how the conversation had turned, William rubbed his eyes. "Good night, Lizzie." He said before abandoning her on the stairs.
When he awoke the next day, the sun was already well above the eastern horizon. Turning over he squinted at the clock on the bedside table. He sighed in dismay. It was already ten o'clock. More than half the morning wasted away in sleeping. He got dressed and went downstairs. In the kitchen Elinor was peeling vegetables. He sat down heavily at the dining table and glared at the back of his older sister's head.
"Oh, you're awake," she said, not halting a moment with her activities.
"Yes. You should have woken me."
"Oh, you just arrived home, had a long journey. We felt it was best just to let you rest."
"I don't like sleeping in. You know that. Besides that, I missed breakfast." He picked up an apple from the basket of fruits on the table. He looked at it in disdain, wishing it was bacon. He bit into anyway.
"Don't sulk, Will. I'm making lunch soon. Anne wanted to talk to you, by the way. You know where to find her."
There was only one place to find Anne: the place with the most books. Taking the apple along, William poked his head into the family's small library. Sure enough Anne was seated, and looking a bit lost, in the large cushioned chair by the one of the room's three windows. Her face was concealed behind a red-covered book, so that only the top of her yellow hair could be seen, shining in the sunlight. "Anne?"
She lifted her head enough only so that her eyes peeked over the top of the book. They lit up, and he could see the smile in them even if he could not see her mouth. She quickly put the book down, and rushed over to the desk where she picked up a stack of papers bound together with string. She beckoned for him to come closer and see them. "Oh, but put that apple down, you'll get them all sticky!" He did so, dutifully.
"What is all this?" He asked.
"I've been saving all the newspapers from this previous year. The incident on the Renown sparked quite a local interest. And well, it seemed so terribly exciting to me. Waiting to hear the next reports was like waiting to read the next chapter of a novel!" She beamed at him.
William shifted uncomfortably. Imagining his sisters hearing the reports of their brother conspiring to mutiny and being put on trial for it was something he dreaded while the events so bluntly put into print were still taking place. He dreaded the shame it would place on his family if he was hung for the crime, and here was little Anne, looking at him as if he were some great hero. "That's very nice, Anne." Was all he managed to say.
"But you do promise to tell me everything sometime, don't you? I know things must have happened that even the papers can't tell."
He nodded.
He kept his promise that very night. He wasn't a very good storyteller. He didn't have the imagination to embellish the details. The four siblings sat in the parlour after dinner. Elizabeth and Elinor were sewing, but Anne laid on the floor in front of the chair William was sitting in, her elbows and hands supporting her head, her eyes large with attention even if the story was lacking in adjectives. He didn't see it, but whenever "Mr. Hornblower" was mentioned Lizzie would look up from her needle and thread, and smirk at him with a strange glint in her eye.
It wasn’t until after dinner the next day that Lizzie broached the topic with her brother. He was outside, peeling a bucket of potatoes for Elinor just as the setting sun was leaving a dusky orange in the sky. Lizzie sat down next to him, not saying anything for a couple minutes. "Did you want something?" He finally asked.
"Just to spend some quality time with my brother."
He looked at her from out of the corner of his eye. "You are lying, Lizzie, and I never appreciate being lied to. You obviously have something on your mind, and it is not like you to balk from an issue."
Lizzie drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. "Well, I just couldn't help but notice the frequency you always mention a certain Mr. Hornblower in your letters and when you were telling your story last night to Anne."
William didn't look at her. "He was an important figure in all the events. What am I suppose to do, edit him out and take all the credit?"
She eyed him carefully, gauging his reactions. "You spoke of him awfully fondly. More so than any other person you had become acquainted with on the Renown"
He kept his concentration on the potato in his hand. "He was the very best of them."
"Uh huh." So far all his responses had been quite unsatisfactory. She needed to prod further. "What is it about him that makes him 'the very best'?"
He finally stopped the peeling and turned to look at her. "What exactly are you trying to get at?"
Lizzie shrugged. "I'm just trying to find out what kind of man this Hornblower is that makes you hold him in such...high esteem. Is he handsome?"
"Lizzie, I don't see what that has to do with anything about his character."
"Stop prevaricating."
"Why is this so important to you?"
Lizzie huffed. "Elinor is determined to end life an old-maid, and Anne is far too impressed with her storybook heroes to take notice to any man in real life. So it just leaves you for me to have conversations about boys with."
He snorted. "This is childish."
Lizzie became to whine. "Oh, please please please, Will. Tell me that he's as gorgeous as he is clever and brave, and that you love him."
William stood, tossing the last peeled potato back in the bucket. "That is enough, Lizzie."
She grabbed his hand before he could walk away. "Stop acting like I'm teasing you, because I am not. Now tell me, is he lovely?"
He looked down at her, and simply replied, "Yes."
She grinned. "Good. And is he as fond of you as you are of him?"
William cleared his throat and shifted his feet, slightly embarrassed by her questions. "I like to think so." Her grin widened. "But not that it matters much."
Her expression fell. "Why do you say that?"
His look was of some annoyance, not at her, but at the world in general. "Well, it's not very likely I'd ever see him again, is it?" He slipped out of her grasp and went back into the house.
Lizzie huffed and mumbled to herself, "Pessimism never suited you, dear brother."
The next weeks were filled with oversleeping. doting, and trying to eliviate his ever-growing boredom by doing as many random chores as Elinor would let him do. He found himself more often than not helping Lizzie tend to the gardens. There were some "mighty stubborn weeds" that she had trouble pulling up. Though all tasks were tedious, this was the one William enjoyed the most. At least it got his hands dirty, even if it was with soil and not gunpowder.
They were in the gardens one morning when Elinor came out. "I'm going in to town this
afternoon. If you two want to come along you better wash up." Lizzie immediatly jumped up and dashed in the direction of the house. William just turned back to attacking the roots of a groundsel. He didn't care much for "going in to town". All the girls would want to do was shop. That was about as fun to him as card playing was: generallly confounding and frustrating. When she realised her brother wasn't following, Lizzie came back and knocked the straw hat he was wearing to keep the sun out of his eyes off his head.
"If you think for one moment I'm going to allow you to stay here, you have another thing coming. We fully intend to show you off, as we usually like to."
He stood, brushing the dirt off his trousers. "No thank you."
She pouted and made her blue eyes as wide as possible. "Oh, come now. We're bound to run in to some old friends who will be very pleased to see you again." He crossed his arms, utterly unmoved. "If I asked you to do it for me, I know you will."
"If that's what you think..." She put into full force her saddest, most pleading expression. Not even the most hardened officer in His Majesty's navy could resist it. "Oh, fine."
Chichester was a small town on the coastline. Not much of a port town as Portsmouth was, but a few merchant ships came through. When Anne was ten years old, she once found some old clothes of William's, ran off, and tried to get on one of the ships as cabin boy. Luckily her brother had found her before she could get herself into any serious trouble. The shops were not busy. Elinor picked her way through various fruits and vegetable stands. Anne immediatly ran to the nearest book shop. Lizze hooked her arm through her brother's. She dragged him in to a fabric shop. He did his very best to look as uninterested and bored as he felt, but she ignored his occasional sigh and rolling of eyes as she discussed length with the shopkeeper.
When walking in the street, they were stopped by a few old friends of the family exclaiming their pleasure at seeing "The Bush Boy" alive and well. A few younger ladies, some of them former playmates of Anne and Lizzie, took a few moments to give thier particular interest at his return while flashing pretty little smiles and fluttering dainty lashes. It was always like that. William tried his best to be polite to the young ladies, but always gave his regrets that he was not to be staying long and was bound to be back at sea at any time. Some pouted, some whined, but all went home giggly and wondering when the next opportunity would come to sway him in to marriage. His sisters always took amusement in this routine, but it always left William somewhat embarrased from all the attention.
On thier way back to cottage Elinor sighed. "I am doomed to never be an aunt."
William gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't say that. Anne is still young, and I'm sure once a young gentlman takes her fancy, that isn't just in some book, we'll have many nieces and nephews to spoil."
Lizzie smacked him on the arm. "And what am I, an aged spinster?"
He ruffled her hair. "Of course not! But I've always taken far more enjoyment in intimidating any of your gentlemen callers."
Lizzie crossed her arms. "And suddenly taking that sea port job becomes all the more appealing."
William once again berated her for "such talk" but all thoughts on family expansion vanished as they arrived home, and started preparing dinner. Elinor bought mutton at the market, and Lizze was chopping some of the vegetables from the garden she pulled that morning. Anne went about setting the table. William, being no use in the kitchen went into the drawing room with a copy of the Gazette, and waited to be told when it would be safe to enter again.
Once Anne came to fetch him, he soon discovered that it wasn't entirely as safe as he thought it would be. There was a healthy piece of meat on his plate, but next to it was a small pile of suspicious looking white vegetable. He poked at it with his fork. "Elinor," he said slowly, "this better not be what I think it is."
Elinor groaned. "Will, you are not twelve-years-old anymore. Be man and eat what's in front of you."
William glared at her from across the table. "Well, if I am no longer twelve, you shouldn't talk to me like that."
Lizze sighed. "It's all right, I'll eat them."
"No!" Elinor said curtly, and turned back to her brother. "If you were eating dinner with an admiral, and all they were serving was this, would you refuse to eat then?"
"I most certainly would," he said with confidence, "just as I am now. If you don't want it to go to waste, let Lizze eat it; or I'll toss it out to the chickens."
"Do chickens like turnips?" Anne asked.
William eventually won the battle and smirked with pride as he scraped his share of the offensive food on to Lizzie's plate.
The rest of his days at were spent with more chores, and anything else that kept him from going insane from boredom. It was an unseasonably warm day in early September, when he decided it would be best if he at least started getting some logs cut for the girls before fall and winter came. By midmorning the temperature and the physical labour became too hot so he removed his shirt before continuing on with the wood splitting. He stopped again when Anne came out with a glass of water for him. She sat on a nearby tree stump and watched him for moment. "They look a lot better," she commented.
He looked up at her. "What?"
"Your wounds, they look less scary."
He hadn't even thought about it, but he looked down at his own chest and stomach. Indeed any sign of redness was gone and longs lines of white scar tissue criss-crossed over older ones.
"I suppose that means you're leaving soon," she continued.
William put down the axe and sat next to her. "Well, I'm going to have to at some point. I need to find work again, make sure you three have nice dresses, food, and you need money for your books; this half-pay isn't going to cover it all."
Anne pouted. "I know, but you're leaving soon. You just came back!"
"Anne, it's been nearly a month. And yes, I'm afraid it will have to be soon."
She sniffed, and uncaring that he was covered with sweat flung her arms around him. "Oh, come now," he rested his head atop of hers as he spoke, "no need to be like one of your weeping heroines. Be a strong girl, eh? It's not the first time I'm having to leave you."
"I know, but it doesn't get any easier with each time."
The "soon" turned out to be the following week. Elinor fussed over his packing, and Anne was practically hopping around alternating from her moods of swelling pride and devestating grief. Lizze hung back, not saying anything. Nothing that is until he was giving them farwell hugs at the gate. As he held her tightly she whispered in his ear, "Give him a kiss for me."
Letting go, he shook his head. "You're hopeless."
Lizze smirked and winked. "That's funny, that's what father used to say about you."
He chuckled, ruffled her hair again one last time. And then he left them. Having to face a time of uncertain political peace, meaning that finding work for a naval lieutenant was not going to be easy. But knowing it was for the benefit of those three wonderful women, made any difficulty worth bearing.
