“An old family friend educated me in the financial world and has been most helpful in explaining the best methods to raise money. He offered to help, but before I accept, I need to know what can be shared.”
“I suppose everything except the fur trade. We must keep our plans with John Jacob Ascot a secret.”
“Then, I will fill him in on the efforts that I concealed earlier. Perhaps, he will prove to be helpful in other areas, as well.”
“My thanks, Blake. I am headed back home. Do you care to join me?”
“Sorry, I cannot.” Blake threw a look over his shoulder to the upper floor of Stock Exchange. “He invited me for dinner tonight, and after his help, I felt obligated to accept.”
The two men parted after agreeing to meet along with Bingley and Kent the next day.
***
Darcy, sitting alone in his study after returning from the docks and a full day of business, mulled over Rawlings' warning. He ignored the rudeness of his friend’s words; instead, he focused on his own behavior. Was it truly necessary to refuse Bingley's invitation so quickly? Did I do it to protect Georgiana or myself? Am I avoiding associating with these people? He retrieved writing materials from his desk and penned a note.
Bingley,
Good news. My appointment has been postponed and I am available to attend your dinner party. I look forward to a stimulating evening of pistons, cylinders, rotary engines, and flyball governors. I researched each one, and I promise I will be able to withstand any challenges thrown at me by your illustrious family and friends. I shall not embarrass you!
Unfortunately, Georgiana must decline. She thanks you for the invitation, but other commitments keep her away.
I shall arrive at seven the night after next.
FD
PS. Will Oban be served? I seemed to have nothing left of my consolation prize.
He handed the letter to Geoffries with instructions not to delay the delivery and then rushed to join Georgiana in the music room, where he was startled to find Kent sitting beside her, turning the pages. The two smiled constantly, shared sidelong glances, and laughed repeatedly. Kent leaned closer to whisper in her ear, but stopped when he spotted Darcy standing in the doorway. His wide grin switched to a smug smile.
Darcy decided to be more attentive to the growing friendliness of his friend and his sister.
Chapter Ten
“Good Morning.” Darcy smiled at his sister sitting in her usual chair, buttering her toast. “You look lovely today.”
“It is a lovely day. I merely dressed accordingly.” Georgiana returned his smile.
Darcy filled plate with a touch of eggs and only one slice of toast,.and then took the seat at the head of the table. He patted his sister’s hand. “What are your plans for today?”
“Study and practice.” Georgiana sighed. “It is always the same. But, I really do wish to be proficient, so I must practice.” She giggled. “Now if you had ever learnt, then you would have been proficient just by putting your fingers on the keys. All the music in the world would flow instantly from your head and heart, without missing a single note. You are Aunt Catherine’s favorite, are you not?” Her smile grew wide as her brother coughed into his napkin.
“You are in excellent spirits today. May I ask why?”
“We are going to a party tonight.”
“What?”
“Mr. Bingley’s dinner party. I am looking forward to attending.”
His neck muscles tightend. He fidgeted in his chair. “I do not believe this party will be to your liking. No one you know is attending.”
“Mr. Bingley and Mr. Kent will be there. I know them.”
“But the others are all strangers and I… am not sure you should be introduced to any person I have not met.”
“Humph! You and Richmond think of me as a little girl.”
“Georgiana. You are still young.”
“Too young to make my own decisions, I know! I know!” She threw her napkin down on the table and jumped up prepared to run out of the room, but dropped her head and spoke in a half-whisper. “Will I never be forgiven?” Her shoulders slumped as she rushed away.
Darcy sighed and pushed his plate away. He was sipping his coffee when he noticed a letter from his Aunt, Lady Cheswick. Without delay, he tore the seal and scanned the words. How fortuitous, she has found a governess for Georgiana. Mrs. Annesley? I hope she is someone who can handle my sister’s outbursts and sudden changes in attitude. Why can she not be more like me? Why can she not see how childish she is at times? Humph. I do not understand her at all! Returning his attention to his breakfast, he spread blackberry jam on his toast. Kent! He must have told her about the party!
***
The full moon, in addition to the light from the flickering candles inside, lit up Bingley’s townhouse. Darcy climbed the steps, peered into the house and relaxed. The attendees seemed animated, but when a burst of laughter erupted, he worried about the conversations to come. Flyball governor! What is that contraption, again?
Bingley greeted him and ushered him into the drawing room filled with men and women engaged in passionate arguments. Darcy felt he was attending a verbal boxing match and not a debate of technical theories. With most of the words foreign to him and the direction of the talk beyond his understanding, he was relieved when they stopped talking when he and Bingley approached them.
“Mr. Darcy, may I present my uncle, Mr. James Watt, and his friends, Mr. Keir, Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Galton.” While the men exchanged civilities, their wives joined them. Several young daughters and nieces trailed behind. It was not long before the next generation of inventors joined the crowd. Everyone had heard of the Mr. Darcy from Bingley and Kent over the years.
Although Darcy was anxious when the guests surrounded him and felt the invisible hand tightening around his throat, he spoke quietly to the men, and answered many questions, including those he would not normally answer. He discovered they were skilled at obtaining information from a reluctant source. Perhaps that is because they seek answers to all things and seem especially skilled when faced with an unresponsive challenge. He considered his friendship with Bingley and realized his friend had whittled more personal information out of him than anyone his acquiantance did. Had he been Bingley’s challenge? He grinned at the thought.
When Kent arrived, Darcy puzzled over how familiar he was with these men of knowledge. He turned to Bingley who explained that Kent was related to the Boulton family. Still puzzled, he looked around the room and asked, “Who exactly is Boulton, and how is he connected to this group?” Darcy felt the heat rising on his cheeks when he heard gasps by several guests.
Mr. Keir joined them and offered Darcy a friendly smile. “James Watt, Bingley’s uncle, and Matthew Boulton, Kent’s uncle, teamed up years ago for the production of steam engines.” While Mr. Keir spoke, Darcy glanced over to Bingley, who had now joined Kent, and realized they had become engaged in the technical discussions with several other men. “Mr. Darcy, your friends have been thrown together for years, and both are well indoctrinated in these type of conversations.”
“Thank you, Mr. Keir. I was not aware of the relationship between the families. I met both at Cambridge where we shared living quarters, but they never mentioned their connection.” Darcy studied the rotund, older man. He was dressed in black, which highlighted his red hair. Scottish! He assumed this explained Bingley’s taste for Scottish whiskey. He was surprised several men appeared to be from Scotland. Do they breed men of science there much like I breed sheep? The thought amused him for a moment.
“They speak with immense fondness of their university days. Well, Bingley does. Kent is more private, but do not mistake his quietness. His mind is always turning, and one day we all expect The Heir to do great things.”
“The Heir?” Darcy asked, startled by the level of respect this man assigned to Kent.
“Yes. His late father accumulated a great fortune and became the… king, so to speak, of the t
radesman world. No one was more forward thinking than Mr. Kent. No type of business existed which he avoided, and he was successful in them all. He sponsored many endeavors. Kent is the prince, or as we affectionately call him, the Heir! Now if you excuse me, sir, my wife is waving for me. I suspect she is trying to defend my opinion of the density and viscosity of gases.”
Darcy stood alone, lost in his thoughts. How did I never hear about Kent’s background? The Heir? The Prince? He never mentioned his father’s success. He had just released a long breath when Bingley’s cousin, James Watt, Jr., collared him and spoke with unbridled urgency about the exigency for a steamship to cross the ocean. Darcy barely had the opportunity to say he agreed. He too had previously considered the ship’s value and finally was able to indicate his own desire to invest in one. They spoke at length on the need for the enterprise until several others joined the group to state their opinions. Those expressing arguments against the endeavor were as unwavering as the ones for it. Men of science are certainly an opinionated lot, yet, no one was offended at being opposed. Darcy chuckled. They seem to thrive on owning a different viewpoint. Their favorite expression was ‘You are wrong!’ Darcy could not imagine any other place where such a rude remark would be allowed to stand. These men, and the ladies, did treat it as a challenge and fought back by responding with the same phrase preceded by a No!
When a servant announced dinner, all the guests made their way into the dining room, continuing their various heated discussions while they found their seats. Darcy sat next to Bingley’s Uncle Watt and his son, James, Jr., and their wives. Sitting directly across from him were Mr. Edgeworth, Mr. Galton, and Mr. Keir. Bingley, Kent, and the young Mr. Boulton sat together. The wives and daughters scattered in vacant chairs around the table. No one seemed concerned by the absence of a planned seating arrangement or the mixing of the sexes. There appeared to be an uneven number of males and females. At any dinner he had attended before this would have been considered a failure on the part of the hostess.
“Mr. Darcy. I understand from my son you have an interest in steam engines?” the elder Watt asked.
“Yes, I do. I use them in my mines in Derbyshire. I also look forward to seeing how they will improve over time. I cannot imagine a mine operating without a steam engine.”
“We all expect grand things from these engines, which will be used to power many activities in the future. If it pleases you, I will be honored to show you the latest versions.”
Darcy nodded, pleased at the offer made by this congenial man, and they spent the next several minutes discussing a various issues. When Darcy learned that patents were an act of parliament, he offered to help attain any new ones through Blake.
“I understand another one of your friends is traveling to America. I hope he finds the time to ride on the Claremont,” James Watt, Jr. said.
“Yes. Mr. Rawlings just set sail, and I can assure you he has been so ordered to take that trip by Bingley.” Darcy glanced towards his friend.
“I only suggested it.” Bingley looked down at his plate.
“And provide a report!” Darcy laughed when Bingley blushed, but not before releasing his recognizable grin. Since meeting the elder Watt, Darcy understood his friend better. Ah! Bingley gets his amiable manner from him, twisted smile, and all. Darcy resumed eating, content to listen to the conversations around him, and did not speak again until he heard someone mention the Society.
“Bingley has mentioned a society of gentlemen in science before. Is this the Royal Society?”
“You speak of the formal one, Mr. Darcy.” Mr. Watt looked around the table. “We… have been privileged to belong to a smaller group.”
“Lunatics they are!” Kent exclaimed.
Darcy’s mouth flew opened.
“Do not worry, Mr. Darcy. That is merely our nickname, but lunatics we all are as well.” Mr. Keir laughed along with the other members. “The last of us are here tonight. In addition to myself, there are only three others.” Mr. Watt nodded to each man as he spoke his name. “Mr. Edgeworth, Mr. Keir, and Mr. Galton.”
Mr. Edgeworth set down his glass. “At one time, the society had fourteen members, and a few correspondents, Mr. Benjamin Franklin from America was one. We meet once a month when the moon is full so the way home would be brighter; therefore, safer. Thus, the name Lunar Society and eventually our friends and colleagues named us lunatics. So, you see, it is really a compliment to be so labeled.”
“We just let you think that is the reason.” Mrs. Keir laughed along with the other ladies at the table. The men mumbled.
Darcy turned his attention to Mr. Keir. “I understand your work was with glass and chemicals.”
“To be honest, I made my money in soap. Cheap soap to cleanse the body.”
“Clean up society, you mean. You tried to do that too.” Kent winked to Mr. Keir.
“Well, soap did not achieve that. It would take parliamentary reform before that happens.”
“Out of order!” Mr. Watt exclaimed.
James Watt, Jr. leaned in to Darcy and whispered, “Talking politics is not allowed at a Lunar Society meeting.”
“This is a meeting?” Darcy brows rose.
“Did Bingley not explain this to you? Each man may invite one guest, which you are his tonight. Bingley first petitioned to include you several weeks ago, and we have been looking forward to tonight.”
Darcy felt a chill run through his body when he realized how close he had come to disappointing his friend. He vowed to thank Rawlings one day.
“Is there something other than steam that interests you, Mr. Darcy?” the elder Mr. Watt asked.
“Everything new interests me. Lately, I have become fascinated with gas and with something called electricity.”
“Ah, that is my field, and one day electricity will be the main power source—not steam!” Mr. Edgeworth pronounced, followed by loud objections of several men at the table, led by the Watts. “Now, I also have experimented with telegraphy. Imagine sending messages across the country in seconds.”
“I cannot imagine communications so quickly. Do you believe it will also cross the seas and oceans?” Darcy considered such easy communication with Rawlings while he traveled around in America.
“No, I do not, since the sound is transmitted through wires. There is not enough wire in the world to stretch across the oceans.”
Darcy sat back in his chair while he listened to Edgeworth speak in terms that only the others could understand. But when the inventor touched on improvements in agricultural machinery, he sat up straight and asked, “Do you need a place to test the equipment?”
Everyone teased Darcy about gaining the advantage over his neighbors. They explained many wanted to test their experiments without purchasing or investing in the machine.
“I understood you have tested a firearm recently,” Mr. Galton said to Darcy.
“I am sure it was not yours, Samuel,” Mr. Keir smirked.
Mr. Watt laughed. “No, it cannot be Galton’s, since this rifle is accurate and does not misfire!”
Samuel Galton’s company was the largest supplier of cheap and sometimes unsafe muzzle loading muskets for use in the slave trade. Although his purpose for the firearms disturbed the Lunar Society members, Galton’s interest in science overcame their objections and, in the end, they had not blocked him from joining.
When the conversation and laughter ended, Kent’s aunt, Mrs. Boulton, caught Darcy’s attention. “If you ever travel to Birmingham, please stop by the Soho Manufactory.”
Darcy listened while she and her son explained about the factory. Kent’s cousin had taken over the business when his father had died. They made gilded decorative objects such as clocks and candelabra as well as silverware, and the cheaper Sheffield plate wares, an affordable alternative to silver for the growing middle-class. Mrs. Boulton pointed out the manufactory’s true worth, although well known for its products, was their humane treatment of the workers.
A World of Expectations_Book 2_The Confrontation Page 15
