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I got the wretched young Grimes to give me the true state of affairs in Horatio's quarters. It took some doing, making it seem as though it were a routine question and not a disrespectful prying into my Captain's business. As first lieutenant, however, it was my duty to oversee the running of the ship, and I put it to Grimes that it was my duty to know what stores the Captain had to hand.

The dull eyes showed a glint of malice when he listed the meager stock of comforts, and there was even a hint of a sneer when he mentioned the carefully rationed coffee beans and the preparation of the Captain's morning brew. Grimes, it seemed, was under no illusions that he served a wealthy master.

"You can go about your business, man." I leaned my head back against the wardroom's roughly white-washed partition and cursed under my breath. No cabin stores to speak of - no flour, no oil, not a single bottle of wine or a drop of port. Little Mrs Hornblower had provided her husband with some embroidered handkerchiefs and a set of little linen bags (unused), which the Captain kept tidily at the bottom of his sea trunk. His mother-in-law had supplied a basket of eggs, most of which were bad, a pat of rancid butter, and a pot of some sort of berry jam that was better observed than consumed.

According to Grimes, the Captain was mainly subsisting on salt pork and hard biscuits. His wife had entirely forgotten to provide him with even a little pot of mustard, a cheese or a package of smoked ham - nothing to provide a bit of sweetness or comfort while he was at war. Worse, nothing to demonstrate to the men that he was a man of substance.

I'd last seen Mrs Hornblower at the wedding breakfast, when she and the Captain had cut the cake with the same sword Horatio had used to slaughter dozens of Frenchmen. She laughing and looking like she'd won a prize at a fair, and he all elbows and angles, stooping to smile kindly down at her. Right now, I wanted to wring her plump little neck.

I put the problem to Prowse, under the guise of checking the number of storm lanterns on hand. I was reasonably sure that we could not be overheard.

"Mr Prowse, it seems that the Captain has omitted to bring most of his effects aboard, being occupied with other matters…"

His eyes flicked up to mine and I saw that he understood me, and had likely even been thinking along the same lines. Prowse was an astute fellow, and there was no need for me to say more.

I myself had a small treacle-cured ham wrapped in linen and oilcloth, and tucked securely into my sea chest. I'd intended to bring it out to help celebrate the happy conclusion of an engagement with the enemy, at some future time. Perhaps that time was at hand.

In the forenoon watch, before catching some sleep below decks, I took a moment to seek Horatio out in his quarters. Grimes was absent, and Horatio was hunched over his desk awkwardly, glaring out at the grey winter water, quill gripped tensely in one of his beautiful hands, looking as though he was trying not to snap it out of temper.

"Difficult letter, Horatio?"

I'd startled him, his hand convulsed, and the quill snapped. He looked down at his ink-spattered letter and smiled ruefully, "A matter of duty, William."

Ah. A letter to his wife. "I'm sorry to disturb you, then."

"Come in, William, sit down." He thrust the half-finished letter into a drawer and visibly relaxed.

"I actually wanted to borrow Grimes from you, to cook up a bit of ham for my supper this evening. I'll be happy to provide you with a morsel or two, in exchange for his time, if you will." I kept my tone light, conscious of his pride. It was this damned pride of his that had prevented him from inviting his officers to his table, having nothing to offer them but the same poor fare the men survived on.

A delighted grin lit his eyes, and I saw him swallow involuntarily. No doubt he was savouring the treat in store. "I'd be pleased to share his services, and if you'd care to join me for supper, I'd be happy for the company."

A trace of constraint had crept into his voice, but I dispelled it by gripping his hand heartily to close the deal, and promising to see him in the dog watches.

I slept fitfully for an hour or two, then stood over Grimes while he baked a portion of the ham with a handful of onions and an apple from the stores. When the little feast was ready I followed Grimes to the Captain's quarters, where we found Horatio fairly vibrating with anticipation.

Conversation over supper was confined to ship matters while Grimes waited upon us, with Horatio addressing me as "Mr Bush", and I responding with "Sir". Once we had scraped the dishes clean, Horatio dismissed Grimes and took my hand in his.

"William, you are a true friend," he grinned playfully.

"What's mine is yours, Horatio," I responded, unable to resist squeezing his hand gently. My words, however, were ill judged, recalling his duty to the front of his mind.

"It is strange, William, being a married man - a husband. To Maria."

"Her affection for you cannot be in doubt," I ventured, wishing Maria at the bottom of the sea.

The tension wound back into him, and he gripped my hand fiercely, before releasing it and slumping down in his chair and muttering "I could wish that she felt less affectionate, William." A fierce blush overtook him, and he stared miserably at the tabletop.

"Horatio..." I wanted to take his hand again, instead I dragged the sea chest that was my stool around the table and waited until he blindly reached out towards me. His hand was cold and damp, until I warmed it with both of mine. "In time she will grow less ardent, and may develop feelings of friendship and concern for you which could be the foundations of a strong and supportive marriage."

"She is just so - unlike what I expected a woman to be like," he burst out, "She is not delicate, nor elegant, nor like a flower in any way -"

I had to laugh, though I pressed my lips to his fingers to take the sting out of it. "Horatio, in other words she is what she has always been, a good woman, but not a lady."

He met my eyes, and through his obvious distress, I could see the dawn of wry amusement and knew that he would survive this disastrous marriage. "I did my duty by her, William, and by god I was glad to be sailing on the tide."

"You have selected a fortunate profession indeed," I agreed, and this time he joined me in my laughter.

Later, as I took first watch and shivered in the darkness on deck, I pitied Maria heartily. For although, like Maria, I was not his equal in intellect, vision or energy, I was here while she was not. I could offer warmth and friendship, I could offer the comfort of a kiss and a gentle hand, while she could only wait and hope for a happy return.

On my return to the wardroom, I found Prowse had come through splendidly, with a neatly folded armful of No. 8 canvas, "I came across a bit of spare, Mr Bush," he murmured demurely. "For trimming the Captain's cabin, and such."

The suggestion found immediate enthusiasm among the younger officers, with Foreman expounding an ambitious scheme for painting the canvas to resemble a Persian carpet, or to brighten the Captain's day with a trompe l'oeil of nymphs bathing. Orrock, who was of a phlegmatic temperament and retentive memory, pointed out that the paints in the ship's stores consisted only of red, green and blue.

I sat back and listened wearily to the various schemes, pleased with the young men's ingenuity and warm hearts. Cheeseman located a couple of hands who were skilled with needle and thread, and Prowse knew of a sailor with a deft hand for painting. Rations of rum were willingly bartered for these gentlemen's services, and the Captain's Quarters' Beautification Project was underway. I hoped it would bring Horatio a measure of comfort.

The engagement with the Loire off Ushant allowed me to fall into the old patterns of working with him, being his right arm, supporting his brilliant strategic mind by my practical management of the men. Nevertheless, despite all I could do for him, he was exhausted by the time we ran her off with our guns.

"We are going back to watch Brest again," he announced, the men hanging on every word, "Loire or no Loire." A cheer went up, and he wearily stumbled into his cabin.

Only a couple of hours, perhaps, of respite before the relentless round of duties would fall on his shoulders again, and mine. I stepped briskly after him.

"I must have a quick word with the Captain. See that we are not disturbed, even by his steward." The sentry nodded, and I closed the door behind me, bolting it for good measure and stuffing my handkerchief into the keyhole.

I found Horatio face down on his cot.

"Horatio," I crouched down on the floor and removed his boots. Mutely he cooperated, rolling onto his back and picking at his shirt buttons. I brushed his hands away impatiently, eager for his skin.

There were never many words between us, about this. After the first time, I'd seen it dawn in his eyes - that what we'd done, what had come so naturally to us, would earn us the skin from our backs if anyone were to know. And I'd just taken his cold, clammy hand in mine and kissed his knuckles until he relaxed back against me.

He did not like me to look at him, though frankly I could have feasted my eyes on his slender frame, the long elegant limbs that occasionally betrayed him in a coltish, ungainly movement, and the burning, fierce spirit that he imperfectly concealed with those long eyelashes and the nervous, beautiful hands.

Gradually, as I set to work rousing him with lips and tongue and gentle touches, I felt the warmth return to his soul, and though he was tired, it was a content, happy exhaustion.

"You did well, William," he grinned down at me, where I mouthed his long, slender cock, "All the men did well, today."

I had nothing to say, for he did not accept praise. Instead I put my tongue to better use, rasping over the sensitive head until he bit down on his hand to stifle his cries. His spending was bitter and thick, and I swallowed it down with relish. I laid my head on his thigh, feeling the pulse jumping in the big veins, seeing his thin belly fluttering with the aftershock of passion.

He was in no shape to reciprocate, and I carefully drew his drawers and breeches up, rebuttoned his shirt, and left him dozing and content.

The wardroom was buzzing with excited junior officers chattering about the action. For Foreman and Orrocks, this was their first serious engagement and they had done reasonably under the circumstances. I took my tot of rum, reluctantly rinsed Horatio's taste out of my mouth, and tapped some weevils out of the ships biscuit. Surely we were due a supply ship soon.

Grimes had been prevailed upon to measure the Captain's windows for curtains, and a set was nearly complete. However, I now had a new appreciation for the Captain's cot and felt that a matching coverlet and cushions would improve the gift.

I would like to see Horatio reclining amongst red and blue roses, his own pale skin flushed and his dark eyes alight. I would like to kiss his lips until they flushed as darkly as the red roses, and to trail my hands over his body like the green vines wrapped around the flowers. I do not think I could ever have enough of him.

It was six days of weevils before the Tonnant signaled us for a boat. Supplies at last! A bullock or two would see beef on the Captain's table, and the fresh meat would certainly go some way to reversing the alarming thinness that had overcome Horatio lately.

"Tonnant brought twenty-four cattle out for the fleet from Plymouth, sir. This one's our share. If we butcher it tomorrow, sir, and let it hang for a day, you can have steak on Sunday, sir." I was enthusiastic about the event, and more so about the fresh vegetables that would accompany the poor beast.

Horatio looked wooden, perhaps he was concerned about the additional work the butchering would require.

"We can swab the blood off the deck while it's still fresh sir. No need to worry about that. An' there'll be tripe, sir! Ox tongue!" I caught myself before I catalogued all the virtues of the beast, as, from Horatio's tense shoulders and the blank expression in his eyes, I could see that one of his bleak moods had overtaken him. Nothing but time or a challenging strategic problem would restore his spirits.

Happily, he spared me from his temper as young Foreman was late with the dispatches from the Tonnant and earned himself a week without a rum ration. I hoped that they held new orders, something to absorb Horatio's restless energy.

I had scarcely given my own orders about the bullock's demise when the marine on sentry duty called me to the Captain's quarters and Horatio slapped several dispatches into my palm and glowered silently at me until I retreated. I had noticed Maria's careful handwriting on the remaining several letters. "See to it that no visitors disturb the Captain for a turn of the glass," I advised the marine sentry, flicking open the first of the letters.

The dispatches gave me a warm feeling of satisfaction, and anticipation curled in my belly. We were back under Captain Pellew's command! Pellew knew Horatio, knew how to best use his brilliance, and knew enough to seek his advice and draw on his ingenuity. Better still, we'd be back in action, not sitting sentry duty off Brest until we grew grey.

"Mr Prowse, we are joining Captain Pellew's forces," I remarked, and saw the same excitement I felt light his eyes. "And, later today, we may want to make arrangements for the Captain's Quarters. The timing is auspicious."

During the forenoon watch I evicted Horatio from his cabin - he went, puzzled, and took three turns around the deck as I'd requested, before returning. Prowse and I, and Huffnell the purser, and Wallis the surgeon, being the senior members of the wardroom, were lined up outside his door, as it was too cramped inside for all of us.

"The wardroom would like to present you with some accoutrements for your cabin, sir," Huffnell announced, with a florid bow, and Prowse pushed the door open. We watched, as Horatio stepped inside slowly, and revolved, staring at the brightly patterned curtains, the matching coverlet, the cushions stuffed with oakum. His delight was palpable, and all four of us grinned stupidly at him, watching him struggle not to show an undignified pleasure as he thanked us awkwardly, still turning to observe the transformation from every angle.

I came to him in the dog watches to discuss our joining Captain Pellew's command, and found him tracing the blue and red roses on the coverlet with a wondering finger. He looked up at me and smiled, "Thank you, William."

I unbuttoned my shirt collar, and kicked off my shoes, "You're welcome, Horatio. Great news from the Admiralty, about us coming under Captain Pellew's command."

"Indeed it is!" Energy whipped through his thin frame, and he began to undress with haste, barking a gangling shin on the underside of his chair as he hopped out of his trousers.

I listened to his plans for engaging the enemy as I soothed the hurt with a kiss, and tumbled him onto his cot. I wondered, as his long fingers prepared me with lamp oil, and he chattily outlined a strategy for using hot shot to decimate shore batteries, whether my friendship with Horatio had done Maria a disservice. He was used to making love with his mind on the clock and his attention on his duty for the King's navy, and I imagined that she had found her bridegroom strangely distracted.

Later, as I dressed, he mumbled drowsily that Maria had announced he was to be a father in her latest letter.

A shiver ran down my spine, even as I felt sincere pleasure for him and congratulated him heartily. I could feel this other duty of his pulling him away from me. A wife was one thing, but a child was another.

I looked down at him, smiling, relaxed, beautiful among the red and blue roses, and kissed him. It didn't matter that I would have to always share him, or that his mind would be on his duty to his family while he was with me.

I felt a strange tenderness towards little Mrs Hornblower as I took a turn around the deck. The dark waves cradled the Hotspur and the stars mantled the sky. "I'll keep him safe, Maria."