Scandal and Secrets

by Christopher Hoare

  Captain McNab raised an eyebrow but asked no questions. They stood together on the platform until their train arrived―it turned out to be their old train but with a new locomotive and guards van. They climbed aboard into their old compartment as their luggage was loaded into the new guards van. The head porter walked down the platform announcing the departure of the express to Newcastle and Berwick, and the guard blew his whistle, which the locomotive answered.

  Then they set off in reverse, down the track they had come in on. Roberta stared at Captain McNab in astonishment.

  “Apparently, M’Lady, the track to Newcastle is some short distance behind us, where the auld station stood. We should be awa north in a few minutes.”

  Their train arrived at Newcastle after sunset, while the evening shadows deepened. Roberta had already suggested they should spend the night at her father’s mansion at Wallsend, not that she expected any family to be there. After leaving the train and seeing their luggage stowed in the appropriate shed on the platform, Captain McNab left her as he went out to hire a carriage to take them to the mansion, which was about six miles from the station.

  They set off in darkness, with the bare glimmer of carriage lights to show the way. Roberta found herself very tired. It would be a blessing if there were no family at home to ask all the questions her absence had created, and they might only wait for Mrs Hooper, the housekeeper, to have two rooms prepared for their night’s rest. Tomorrow’s journey would be only half as long, although she had been told there would be quite a wait at Carlisle for the Caledonian Railway express.

  Captain McNab said little, perhaps noticing her weariness, even though he seemed rejuvenated after searching down a coachman willing to take a journey that must keep him and his brakeman out way after midnight. She was pleased to let him keep guard and let the rocking of the wheels on the uneven roadway induce her to fitful dozing.

  She was awakened when their conveyance came to a halt and the voices of the coachman and his assistant called out to a footman. “This the Stephenson house?”

  “That it is. Who wants it at this time of night?”

  Roberta got to her feet and poked her head out the door. “I do, John. It is Miss Roberta . . . Miss Roberta as was . . . just come from the York train.”

  She saw his startled face in the lamplight. “Good Lord. Welcome home, Miss. You will be pleased to see yu’r Aunt here.” He came to the carriage door to help her alight.

  “Thank you, John. We will not be staying beyond time to catch the Carlisle train in the morning. Please have Mrs Hooper meet me in the sitting room. We need a room for one gentleman and my old room for me.”

  They had barely walked halfway to the door before it opened, letting Aunt Nelly fly down the steps to fold her into her arms. “Roberta, Roberta darling. It is really you? I had heard alarming things of you―and none so alarming as in the London newspaper that came in the post this morning.”

  “Oh, Aunt. No need to fret, I am going home now.” She heard Captain McNab alight behind her. “You remember Captain McNab, of course. He is accompanying me to Glasgow.”

  They spoke more―in disjointed sentences that worry and excitement create―all the way to the sitting room, where Aunt Nelly picked up the latest copy of the Times that Roberta had not seen amid all the rush of Admiralty business and the preparations for travel.

  “What news has so upset you, my dear old sweetheart,” she said as Aunt Nelly brandished the open pages under her nose.

  “This, my Dear―is it true?”

  Roberta was surprised to see an announcement spread across three columns of the second page. “‘The marriage is announced between Julian David Fitzhugh, Lord Bond of Tiverton Castle and Miss Roberta Stephenson, the daughter of Mr. George Stephenson, the railway entrepreneur of Wallsend in Northumberland . . .’” She looked up. “I feel sure this is not the work of the Marquess. When did Lord Bond have it placed I wonder?”

  “Is it true?”

  “Yes, dear Aunt. It is true.”

  “But, after—”

  Captain McNab made a quiet cough behind them.

  “Ah. Sorry it is, I am, Captain. I mustna trouble you wi’ family business.”

  “There is miur as have wondered as much, Miss Nelly,” he replied. “I hope wi’ all ma heart that the marriage shall be blessed with much happiness―since it was as much oer doin’―Mr. Holmes an’ me as ye an’ His Lordship.” The sitting room door opened. “If this be th’ housekeeper, I will be much obliged if she will direct me to ma room an’ let ye twa speak yer minds in private.”

  Aunt Nelly stood in bewilderment until the Captain and Mrs Hooper could be heard climbing the stairs. “What did he mean, Lass? How did ye accept His Lordship’s suit when ye made sic efforts to avoid it?”

  “I hardly know enough to tell you―I am very tired.”

  “How was it his and Mr. Holmes’ doing?”

  “Lord Bond came aboard the Medusa off the Westerschelde with news that the Captain and Mr. Holmes were prisoners of the French. We had to go to Antwerp ourselves on the American passport we heard so much about, to complete the spying and look to rescue them. It was the work of Providence, no less, that brought everything to a happy conclusion.”

  “But . . . the marriage? Where . . . when . . . ?”

  “The chaplain aboard Medusa officiated. It was all right and proper, His Lordship had seen fit to ensnare me with a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury.”

  “Ensnare it is. What do his father say?”

  “I do not know. Lord Bond has gone to Tiverton to face the music―and I am away to Clydebank to begin laying down the lines of the Antiochus, that the Admiralty has ordered, post haste. I’m afraid the Marquess and his disfavour will have to wait until we have iron on the slipway.”

  “Ye canna be sae cavalier, Lassie. He has the entire establishment behind him.”

  Roberta laughed, a laugh even she recognised as tainted with a touch of hysteria. “I can, you know. I am a cavalier enough now to have that right―until such time as His Lordship of Tiverton can bring up enough guns to cast me back into the engine shed where I was raised.”

  Chapter Three

  It’s News on the Border

  Roberta and Captain McNab had an early breakfast in order to take Mr. Stephenson’s carriage and team to the Newcastle station. She had a tearful goodbye from Aunt Nelly, with a great deal of advice and cautions, some of which they had already discussed a month ago before the marriage. “Try not tae anger the Marquess more than he already is. ’Twill do yer cause nay good. If he should choose, he could sic an army o’ lawyers an’ police upon ye. Ye ain’t as big a cavalier as he.”

  “I will always do as seems right, Aunt, but it is Lord Bond who, by rights, must bear the brunt.”

  In consequence, Roberta fretted the whole ride to the station. She did not believe her father-in-law had been able to act quickly enough to set an investigator to watch her already, but had he done so, even a friend as innocent as Captain McNab could be dragged through the mire by lawyers’ questioning. Aunt Nelly had only told the truth when she had said that she had better consider herself always suspected of adultery―not because she might commit it, but because its proof would be the most satisfactory way for the Marquess to achieve his aim.

  Well, if the Old Man, as Julian calls him, tries to take our marriage from us, he will find the team that stole Napoleon’s secrets is not so easily defeated. It required many influential friends in high places and very deep pockets to obtain a divorce. Roberta knew in herself that she would be safe from such an accusation, but false testimony could always be bought. Even a hint of such investigation would drag the name Stephenson through the dirt.

  Their arrival at the station was not as timely as they had thought. Roberta had been too long away to know of the dispute between the Newcastle and Carlisle Company and the York, Newcastle, and Berwick over the construction of the final bridge over the River Tyne to connect the two railways. It se
emed they could not agree on the proportions each would pay for construction of the bridge, nor the toll charged for each train that crossed. As a result, the terminus of the Newcastle and Carlisle was on the other side of the river and Roberta, Captain McNab, and the porters conveying their baggage had to hurry across the temporary footbridge in order not to miss the departure of their train.

  The ride itself, up the picturesque Tyne valley, somewhat made up for the haste, with a beautiful sunny day, surprising for the first of October, providing a soothing atmosphere that calmed Roberta’s racing mind. As she sat and watched the valley reveal itself to her eyes she resolved that she would distract her mind from her duties in the shipyard no longer. This trouble was her husband’s doing and her husband’s fight. She would merely wait for his words, when he told her how the interview with his father had played out.

  The advice she had been given about the wait at Carlisle had been correct. While the railway lines between Carlisle and Glasgow had been completed and trains could travel over them, the rolling stock was not as well served. The owners of the railway had done everything needed to have goods wagons loaded with coal, with iron, with produce of every sort, and all manner of manufactured goods speedily conveyed northwards, or southwards as the case may be, but had been somewhat negligent of the desires of passengers.

  It transpired that there was only one express train to make both the southward and the northward journey each day. The train had left Glasgow at nine of the clock, but would not arrive at Carlisle before half past noon. Then it must be turned around and cleaned before a new locomotive was harnessed to the carriages to depart on the northward journey at one of the clock. Roberta did not much mind, because she was able to repair to a fine hostelry opposite the station concourse where she and Captain McNab enjoyed a leisurely luncheon and sat in a well-furnished lounge perusing the daily and weekly newspapers.

  Captain McNab drew her attention to a piece in the Dundee Courier and Argus that repeated the announcement in the Times that Aunt Nelly had shown her. “Ah would suppose that ye may find yersel’ a much greater person o’ interest in the city than before, M’Lady.”

  “I would hope it to be benign interest, Captain, but I fear that some individuals may regard my sudden climb upon the social ladder with approbation. I can only hope that these will be in a minority.”

  Had her father already received her letter―surely he had already read it―or would he find a great shock upon opening his morning paper? But she did not think it would trouble him the much; after all, he and Lord Bond had consumed many bumpers upon the consummation of their designs upon her future happiness the day she had fled to the Forth and Clyde canal steamer. She rather suspected that the biggest trials between them would come if the Marquess began a campaign to have her labelled as a gold digger.

  The journey to Glasgow went through beautiful scenery she had never seen before, which was not sullied in any way for her although the smeech from the locomotives of goods trains that waited for them to pass at every siding did its best to hide the Annandale River, the Lowther hills, and then the headwaters of her faithful Clyde. They arrived at the Glasgow station no more than five minutes late and said their farewells as Captain McNab left her to return to his regiment.

  They shook hands, formally. “Weel, M’Lady, Ah hopes the wust is behind ye an’ ye shall have a letter from His Lordship that will put yer mind to rest. But if not, mind, ye can always call upon the service o’ James McNab.”

  “Thank you for your kindness, Captain. I hope that if we meet again it will be in only happy circumstances.”

  With that, Roberta watched him leave and put her mind to decide the next quandary she should settle. She thought it would be too much an exhibition of grandiosity if she were to hire a carriage to take her to the Stephenson mansion at Clydebank, but she did have a great burden of luggage. She went to the goods office of the station and arranged for her steamer trunk to be conveyed by the regular cart to Clydebank in the morning. That left her with quite a small valise to deal with.

  It was not too much luggage with which to ride upon the horse-drawn omnibus that workmen and office workers used to go to and from work, and—since it was above an hour before the bulk of them should be released from their daily labours―she walked to the omnibus stop in front of the station building and found herself a seat upon the next one placarded to be going via the Glasgow-Paisley road, where she had received the warning from Aunt Nelly a month before.

  Chapter Four

  Father Regrets

  Roberta’s arrival at the mansion caused quite a stir when her father looked out of his library window and saw her walking up the drive.

  He rushed out to meet her, their footman and several other staff following in his wake, and began to address her while still several yards away. “Are you all right, my Dear? What happened to your carriage?”

  “Hello, Father. There is no carriage―I took the horse omnibus from the railway station.”

  “Good Lord,” he exclaimed. “What were you thinking of, Girl?”

  She reached him and set down her valise before planting a kiss on his cheek. “I thought the time for extravagance is past and wanted to come home at least once more as Roberta Stephenson. Is that so strange?”

  The servants all took her words as their cue and bowed and curtseyed. “Welcome home, Your Ladyship.”

  She smiled at them. “Thank you for those kind words.” She turned to her father. “But how can I function in the shipyard if I cannot be Miss Roberta?”

  Her father took her arm as the footman picked up the valise. “Stuff and nonsense―they must all call you Lady Bond. But you must never ride on an omnibus again―what if there had been ruffians on board?”

  “There was one fellow in his cups who made comments I would not repeat, but three other working men saw fit to take my part and silence him.”

  Heather, the upstairs maid, shook her head. “There has been folk robbed an’ injured on they omnibus things, M’Lady.”

  “Well, Heather, I managed to escape Napoleon’s France with a whole skin―I thought that Glasgow should offer me no worse.”

  Their faces registered amazement, her words stopped their chatter until they reached the front door. “Where is His Lordship?” Heather asked.

  “He has gone to see his father in Devon.”

  Her father glowered. “Yes―that’s enough. No more questions. I will not allow any more of your impertinence.”

  The housekeeper met them in the foyer and sent the girls off to their duties. The footman started up the stairs with her valise. “That is only part of my luggage, Malcolm,” Roberta said. “My shipping trunk will come by the carter tomorrow.”

  “O’ aye, M’Lady. I will watch fer’n.”

  “Come into the sitting room,” Father said. “We have much to speak of.”

  Roberta seated herself by a small fire in the grate while her father went to the decanters on the sideboard. “How are the ships coming along, Father? I have a great deal of changes to make on the larger vessel―now called HMS Antiochus―because of the information I learned in Antwerp.”

  “Antwerp! Yes, you did tell me in your letter, but I have hardly credited it until I heard it from your own mouth. What possessed His Lordship? A husband should never have put his young bride into such danger―I fear that I must have misjudged him when I allowed him to pursue his suit.”

  “You must not blame yourself, Father. Lord Bond is very free with his words but completely duplicitous with his actions. But please tell me of the ships―must I deal with some problem with the spitefuls tomorrow?”

  “Good heavens!” her father said, wide-eyed. “You say that of your new husband of less than a month. What kind of marriage have you got into?”

  “I believe you were well aware of my doubts about him―why else should I have left Clydebank with such haste? But I believe that if I had any illusions, the past three weeks has completely dispelled them. He has been the one who desired
this marriage, and I leave it entirely up to him to protect it and make it work. I will be quite content as the manager of your shipyard; I really never expected more.”

  Her father lifted his glass and drained the contents before reaching to fill it again.

  “You might pour me a little brandy and water, Father. It is the only liquid safe to drink in the Low Countries.”

  He brought the glass to her and stood beside her chair. “Oh, Lass. What have we done?”

  “Nothing that might not be undone, I hope. I was well warned that the Marquess would oppose the marriage.”

  “Oppose it! How can he? Your letter told me that Lord Bond had a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury himself.”

  “I do not know, but have no doubt but that he will try. Lord Bond did not let me read the letter awaiting him from the Marquess―he even tried to pretend it was of no account―but clearly he was ordered to present himself at Tiverton Castle, and the invitation was not extended to me.”

  Her father moved to the chair opposite and collapsed into it.

  She sipped at her drink while he stared at her in silence, his hands alternately cradling his head and letting it go. “Ye seem quite unconcerned, Roberta.”

  “Oh, I assure you that I am very concerned, but I will not entertain fears of things that may never happen. Tell me of the shipyard―I have the information about the French Leviathan that necessitates some important changes to my vessel.”

  “What kind of husband is he―has he . . . is it a proper marriage, I mean?”

  “Oh, certainly proper in that way. As for him becoming a good father for the son you need to inherit the shipyard and railway works, only time will tell. I am sure expense will be no object when it comes to choosing the lad’s schools, but as for a father’s good example and sound mentorship . . . well, only time can tell.”