He tried to be Stephen, reminding himself about cameras and this film. Stephen’s naval background and posture. Stephen’s bluff and hearty care and concern, unaccustomed to giving his heart away so completely, much less to someone ill and bookish and enthusiastic and stubborn, a loyal patriot and Home Office agent and beloved partner. Stephen couldn’t fight this particular battle with a ship and guns and shouted orders; he could and would stand at Will’s side and offer clumsy hands, thick blankets, endless cups of tea.
Metaphorical, of course. Written in letters, in hearts, in dreams. They’d only have a day or two left together in person. Stephen would be back at sea, in battle with Napoleon’s forces. Will would remain in the London townhouse and occasionally Lord Cary’s offices, coughing
