Padstowe's Lodgings, Oporto

It had not, Padstowe reflected, been the best of ideas to volunteer to be of service during the battle. He did not regret it - never would he regret his choice - but he acknowledged now that it had not been the best choice for his health. Stephen would say he had told him so, but duty came before health, so in all conscience that did not really matter.

At the moment he was sitting at his desk in his room in shirtsleeves, his baggage having finally caught up with him that morning via one of the navy's boats, trying to prise the lid off his inkwell. Despite his careful packing it seemed that he had forgotten to clean it out thoroughly, and a small amount of dried ink around the rim help it firmly shut. After several attempts with one hand he had shifted the cloth of the sling along so that he might employed his left as well - but still he was having no luck. He had started tapping it against the edge of the table in desperation, short of no doubt inflicting fatal woundes upon himself taking a knife to it.

It was easy enough to find Captain Padstowe's lodgings. Not so easy to come up with excuse as to why he was coming to introduce himself. Oh, well, he supposed 'politeness' could always pass off as one. He knocked on the door.

Padstowe halted his controlled destruction of stationary to look up in puzzlement. He was not expecting anyone to call on him - he had said he would call of Stephen - and Hogan had already paid him a flying visit that morning. Putting the inkwell down Padstowe rose and went to the door, lifting the latch and opening it.

The man on the other side of the door was wholly unknown to him. He was tall, slender and handsome, with unusually light blond hair, and what was more wearing the uniform of staff officer. Padstowe was fairly certain that he knew all the staff, but this smiling young man was a complete stranger. He blinked.

"Can I help you?"

'My name's Hunter. I am one of Sir Arthur's ADCs. I thought it might be prudent to introduce myself.'

Might you, Padstowe thought, but opened the door wider and allowed him to come in.

"Forgive me, but I was not aware Sir Arthur had acquired any new aides. I apologise for the mess, but I have only just taken up residence and i was not expecting visitors."

'I am sorry,' George took in the other man's slightly dishevelled appearance. 'I hope I am not interrupting anything important.'

"No, not at all." Padstowe cleared his coat and a spare shirt from a chair so the Hunter could sit down. "As you see I am somewhat handicapped at the moment, so it is only light duties for me; pen-pushing and the like - no offence intended, captain. Would you care for a drink? I think I have a bottle of sherry around here somewhere..."

'No. Thank you.' George sat down. 'I won't take up a lot of your time. But seeing as I am very new to the job and the fact that my lack of knowledge as to who is who has already put me into uncomfortable position, I thought I might introduce myself to you.'

Somewhat surprised, Padstowe put the bottle of sherry down and eased himself back into his own chair at the desk.

"How so?" It would be interesting to know who Hunter had fallen foul of already.

'Oh, nothing serious. I did not know that the man who presented himself at Headquarters today was actually the General's physician, and not just claiming to be him.'

"Dr. Maturin?" Padstowe was glad to hear that Stephen had in fact made it to Headquarters and not come to some accident since he'd left both he, Raoul and Yates with Hogan. "Yes, those who are unfamiliar with him are quite often surprised to find that he is indeed a physician, and quite a highly-rated physician at that. You said you have not been with us long; you must have joined after the column left Lisbon, as before then I would have heard of your appointment."

'Yes, that was him.' He paused. 'The ship I was on got delayed and arrived into Lisbon about two days after the column left. I caught up with it just before Coimbra.'

Padstowe nodded. It was a plausible enough reason, and it often happened.

"I expect Sir Arthur was pleased to see you safely arrived; he must have worried with your missing the Lisbon rendez-vous."

'I dare say he was spared any worry on my part. We weren't acquainted before I joined the column.'

"But he must have been expecting you."

'I don't think he was. I received my orders from Horseguards. As far as I can tell my appointment was as much of a surprise to him as it was to me.'

"Ah."

That would explain why Hunter seemed a little over-eager to know what was what in his new job. Even he knew that it was common courtesy for the senior officer in question to be given some notification of the appointment; but, as it seemed in this case, Sir Arthur had no idea he was gaining an extra ADC, did not have the slightest personal knowledge of the boy and then for Hunter to turn up late - sin of all sins - it needed no stretch of the imagination at how cold his reception must have been.

"I can imagine he was not best pleased."

And for Hunter to have been appointed behind Wellesley's back also meant that the young man commanded considerable patronage. Could he possibly be a royal bastard? That was the usual reason.

George shrugged. 'I imagine so. Who would be?' The fact that he himself was not overjoyed at the prospect was a thing best kept private.

[OOC: some of Padstowe's injuries are still visible aren't they?]

(The bruises will have faded, but he looks pretty wan and gaunt, I think.

- Dr. S.E. Maturin)

Padstowe grunted agreement, and adjusted his sling to give his hand support again.

"If you do not mind my asking, how was Dr. Maturin when you saw him? We travelled from Lisbon together, I was his patient there, but had to leave him on joining the army."

[OOC: Yes. His arm is still in a sling, he is quite pale skin-wise, and a healing cut on his lower lip.]

'Well, as far as I could tell, he was more or less physically fine, though he looked worried. But it is hard to judge since I do not really know him.' George studied the other man briefly. 'I hope you injuries are getting better.'

"They are, thank you," Padstowe gave a half-hearted gesture to his arm. "The shoulder still smarts, but it is bearable. I am much better than I was."

Did Hunter know the circumstances surrounding the gaining of his injuries? That would be interesting to know, too.

"Careless of me really, I suppose," he added bitterly.

'Careless? I don't think there is anything careless about getting injured unless one manages to injure oneself. But I'm glad you are feeling better.'

"Hm." Hunter was annoyingly ambiguous with his answers, possibly not on purpose - Padstowe did not think so - but annoying. It did indicate that Hunter thought that it was not his own fault, though, which would indicate that he thought the injury had been inflicted on him in some way.

"Still," he said. "Foolish. I am glad to hear that the doctor is safe and sound, though; he is not used to army life and I feel has suffered somewhat during our journey out here. He will be glad of some rest, I am sure."

'I think he will be staying at the Headquarters, so he has a hope of at least quiet surroundings: I dare say most people will avoid making much noise while the General's asleep. Are these lodgings comfortable enough? I hope you have everything you need.'