“Welcome, gentlemen, to the first board meeting of 1895. I trust you had a good Christmas and New Year’s celebration?”
There was a general murmur before Sydney pushed back his chair, as if he could not remain seated a moment longer. “Gloria, this is supposed to be a private meeting. What is she doing here?”
Gloria gazed at him, seated next to Mr. Pitman, who sat at her right hand. “To whom do you refer?”
“There is only one female in the room besides yourself, and that is Miss Alice Chalmers, as you very well know.”
“And as you very well know, at every meeting of the board we welcome a shareholder representative.”
“That is my brother Hugh, Gloria.”
“Your brother could not be with us today. The representative is appointed by Mr. Pitman, and today that is Captain Chalmers, by which title you will address her henceforward. Really, Sydney, your manners this morning! Aunt Louisa would be appalled.”
But Sydney was not to be put in his place like a schoolboy. “Captain Chalmers isn’t a shareholder. I ask you again, what is she doing here?”
“She is indeed, and it is not your business to know everything. It is mine. Now, do sit down. We are now behind schedule by five minutes.”
At the far end of the table, she saw Alice pass a hand over her mouth to cover her twitching lips. She too was dressed in the height of fashion in a blue walking suit trimmed in black soutache, with a matching tricorne hat perched upon her hair and trimmed with a black cockade of grosgrain ribbon. Mr. Pitman had sold her ten shares in the company this morning after breakfast, and while she did not have a vote, of course, her presence at the table was both a comfort and a relief to Gloria. If worse came to worst, Alice could always pull out her lightning pistol and shoot the dissidents among them.
Mr. Pitman put on his spectacles and cleared his throat. “I now call to order the meeting of the board of directors of the Meriwether-Astor Munitions Works. The first order of business is the vote to confirm Miss Gloria Meriwether-Astor, our late chairman’s heiress, as president. I cannot imagine this point needs any discussion.” He glanced at each man, and when he reached Carmichael, the man stood with ponderous gravity.
Oh, dear.
“I mean no disrespect to Miss Meriwether-Astor who, if I may say so, is looking particularly lovely this morning,” he said, bowing to her and tugging on his wide brocade waistcoat. “But as pleasing a picture as she makes, I do not believe that she is the best candidate to lead this company into the upcoming century. Mr. Sydney Meriwether-Astor has been on the board of directors since his late father’s regrettable passing, and as the closest male descendant of our late president, I feel he is the family member best suited to take up the reins of leadership.” His gaze met Gloria’s. “If I may be frank, this is no job for a woman, who may be taken from that chair at any time by the demands of husband and family, leaving us in the position of having to replace her anyway, at some later date.”
Gloria inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm herself.
“Are there any other candidates putting themselves forward for the position?” Mr. Pitman asked, managing to make it sound like a grave social faux pas. When no one spoke, he nodded. “Then we shall put it to a vote. All in favor of Miss Gloria Meriwether-Astor as president of this firm, raise your right hand.”
Four for, and two against, the latter being Sydney and Carmichael. Gloria let out the breath she had been holding, feeling a wave of relief, tempered somewhat by regret that her own cousin should not support her. With Alice’s news, of course, she had known he wouldn’t, but that he would not only not support her, but worse, would put himself forward to take her place, was much more painful than anything else.
“The ayes have it.” Mr. Pitman smiled at her. “May I be the first to congratulate you, Madam President, and offer you my fellow board members’ best wishes and—” He glanced from Carmichael to Sydney. “—support.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pitman.” With as little ceremony as possible, she received the gavel of office from him and tapped it upon its cork pad. As though there had been no opposition, as though she had not just been betrayed by her closest living relative, she proceeded to lead the meeting through several points of business, which passed without comment or opposition.
But if she had thought to lull the members into a sense of security with several aye votes, she was disappointed when they reached the seventh order of business.
“In the matter of my cousin Sydney’s seat on this board, I move that he be removed and my cousin Hugh take his place.”
He had known this was coming—he had read it in her letter. But still, his eyes filled with as much betrayal as if he had not just attempted to vote himself into her chair. What was good for the goose was clearly not good for the gander.
“For what reason?” Mr. Adams said. “Your father was content to have his nephew represent that side of the family, and Sydney has acquitted himself most ably before now.”
“Until he voted to oust his uncle’s chosen heir and put himself in her place,” Mr. Pitman reminded him. “I must say, this motion should come as no surprise.”
“It comes as a surprise to me, since Sydney’s motion to be president took place after the motion to remove him was put on the agenda,” Mr. Adams said. “This tells me she intended to remove him all along. What is the reason for it, Madam President?”
“I knew he was going to try to oust me,” she said simply.
She saw the moment the penny dropped and Sydney realized why Alice was there. But to admit it would be to admit he had trespassed upon Lady Claire’s trust and hospitality, and read her private correspondence. She saw, too, the moment he realized she was quite prepared to tell them all about his dishonorable behavior if he did not back down.
“Is this true, Sydney?” Mr. Adams turned to him.
“Yes.” And yet he remained calm. “I beg my cousin to reconsider.”
“I am sorry, Sydney, but the direction in which I wish to take this company is not the same one in which you wish it to go. I feel Hugh to be the better candidate, for greater harmony among board members.”
“You mean, you are stacking the deck with people who favor you,” he said pleasantly.
“I say!” Mr. Pitman exclaimed. “That was uncalled for, sir. And if I may say so, you are illustrating our president’s point admirably.”
“I will, of course, allow you to attend the meetings of the board, as your brother has done with you until now,” Gloria said a little stiffly. It was difficult to remain polite when her opponent used civility as a weapon with such ease. “But you will not be permitted to speak, only observe.”
“In which direction do you wish the company to go, Miss Meriwether-Astor?” Mr. Bidwell asked.
Gloria inclined her head, hoping that the trembling of her knees and the jumping of her stomach was not apparent to anyone but herself. “May I direct your attention to the next motion on the agenda—the matter of the final shipment of arms and equipment to the Royal Kingdom of Spain and the Californias.” She took a sip of water to moisten her dry throat. “I move that the shipment be terminated before delivery and the funds already paid be returned to the ambassador in person. I further move that our relationship with that nation also be terminated, with as much cordiality as possible.”
Silence reverberated in the room for a single moment, before pandemonium broke out. The board members leaped to their feet, some leaning with both hands on the table, some pushing back their chairs.
“Unthinkable!”
“Outrageous!”
“Are you utterly mad? I move that the president be removed from office immediately!”
But Sydney, to her surprise, did not join in the shouting. Instead, he sat back in his leather-bound chair and folded his arms over his chest, looking grave and thoughtful.
She had met with each of them over the last several weeks, stating her case for the company’s new direction as economically and practically as possible. But
those meetings had not included this bombshell. She picked up the gavel and whacked it on the cork pad. “Gentlemen,” she said. “Order, please.”
For a wonder, they seemed to recollect themselves, and fuming and muttering, resumed their seats.
“You all know my plans for this company—that we remove ourselves from the arms business over time, and focus our energies on producing parts for building materials, for railroads, for waterworks and bridges. We will use our dirigibles for trade rather than spying upon and threatening other nations. I believe that in time, these pursuits will create much more revenue in support of our growing country than arms ever could. This vote will be our first step in this new direction.”
She was not so stupid as to believe she had won, since they could be just as angry and obstinate sitting down as standing. But several of them were looking as thoughtful as Sydney—as though they were giving consideration to her proposals in the same way they considered her father’s.
“Of course I do not mean that we must decide this critical point in this very meeting. I urge you all to consider it carefully, so that when we reconvene, we may discuss it calmly and rationally. Let us remember that the Viceroy’s ambassador is in Philadelphia for a limited time, and we must not draw the matter out. We must be resolute without being insulting.”
The noise surged again, but this time, Sydney joined in not to add to the agitation, but to urge calm. When the room had settled down slightly, he raised a hand. “If I may speak?”
“Yes,” Gloria said cautiously. He was being awfully decent and cooperative. Perhaps she had misjudged him. But it was too late now—and there was no arguing with her relief that she had done what had to be done. She had a far better relationship with Hugh.
“As my last act as a member of this board, then, let me recommend that we meet again on Friday. We will need to act carefully with the Ambassador, as he is notoriously prickly when it comes to his honor. If the board does agree to stop the shipment, we must frame this delicately in order to avoid unpleasant consequences.”
“Will they declare war on us?” Mr. Pitman inquired in all seriousness.
“No, but our esteemed president is of course aware that if we do this, we will have breached the contract. We must be prepared to make it up to them in some way.”
“If I have to give them a year’s dividends, I shall,” Gloria said, and Mr. Pitman’s gaze swung to her in dismay.
“Let us not be hasty,” Mr. Carmichael said sharply—he of the newly purchased New York town house. “We cannot solve the problem that our president has laid upon us here and now. I have a lunch appointment.”
“Very well.” Gloria had known that it would be difficult to pull this off, but on the bright side, at least Sydney appeared to be resigned to the loss of his seat and had decided to act like a gentleman. “I agree with my cousin that we should reconvene on Friday, armed with as much information as possible, and having thought out the consequences of each path we propose.”
With relief, she saw nods around the table, and then Mr. Pitman moved that the meeting be adjourned.
“Will you join me for lunch, Gloria?” he asked when the room emptied. “I should like to discuss today’s meeting with you.”
“I should like that of all things, but perhaps I might put it off until tomorrow?” She smiled at him. “Captain Chalmers has never been to Philadelphia, and I am showing her and her crew the sights.”
“Tomorrow, then. I will reserve a table at Elliot’s.”
He departed, and Gloria took Alice’s arm. “Get me out of here,” she murmured. “How far will Swan fly in an hour?”
“A hundred miles or more.”
“Excellent. Let us change, point her bow west, and get some air under our feet before I do someone bodily harm.”
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER, Swan floated gently to ground in a wide field formed by the curve of a river. Winter fields, fallow now, stretched away in neat squares like a patchwork quilt, punctuated by houses and barns all painted white. Smoke drifted up from chimneys at the vertical, so still was the air.
“Is this good enough?” Alice asked. “Any idea where we are?”
“There is some kind of Utopian community out here, if I am not mistaken.” Gloria gazed out the viewing port as Alice’s crew jumped down and did their best to moor Swan using trees and a large boulder. “Their religion forbids the use of steam.”
They joined the boys at the bottom of the gangway, and strolled over to the steep riverbank. “Forbids steam?” Evan repeated. “How do they live without steam power?”
As though she could discern the answer, Alice gazed with wondering eyes across the fields, at the column of wood smoke rising from the chimney of the nearest farmhouse, about a quarter of a mile away.
“I do not know,” Gloria admitted. “But from all accounts, they manage, and keep themselves separate from the world.”
The high-pitched sounds of shouting came closer, and below them, on the frozen surface of the river, came five or six children, dressed all in black, bundled up in mittens and scarves, with skating blades tied to their feet. The little girls’ heads were covered with starched white caps, and the boys wore black felt hats with sober brims. There was nothing sober about their play, however. They darted hither and yon like water-bugs, playing what looked to be a game of tag.
“That looks like fun,” Mr. Stringfellow said with a hint of longing in his tone.
Jake glanced at him. “It does. I miss our lot at Carrick House. Come, let us see if we can join them in their game. With your permission, Captain?”
Alice nodded, and the boys slid down the bank. After the children had recovered from their initial alarm at being accosted by strangers, the boys discovered that the dialect the children spoke was similar to the German they’d picked up over the last several years going back and forth to Munich.
Alice smiled as she watched the game resume, to much laughter and shrieking. “Even without skating blades, Benny is holding his own.”
“It was kind of Jake to recognize that he was homesick,” Gloria said. “I never can decide whether or not Jake is the hardened criminal he purports to be.”
“Not in the least,” Alice told her, out of loyalty to her navigator. “But in this line of work, it doesn’t hurt for people to think so.” This was as good an opportunity to talk things over as any, now that her crew would be occupied for some time. “A reputation as a dab hand in a fight wouldn’t hurt either of us, if this morning’s to-do is any indication.”
With a sigh, Gloria nodded. “There was more than one moment when I thought I would be turned out of the room and another president voted in.”
“You’d have had clear sailing if it hadn’t been for this business with the Ambassador.”
“I know. But how can I live with myself if I do not do something to stop this war?”
“He may still storm the border, whether you send this shipment or not. In fact, from what de Aragon said, it seems likely he will.”
“I also know I could let sleeping dogs lie on a train west, fully loaded and paid for. But at least while I am in charge, the company will do nothing to support such a war, regardless of what it has done in the past.”
“Good for you,” Alice said with approval. “I wish I had your resolution.”
Gloria turned to her in surprise. “My resolution? Why, you are one of the bravest, cleverest women I know.”
“Not lately,” Alice admitted, watching as Evan attempted to organize Crack the Whip. “I suppose you’ve wondered why it was I who brought you the news of your cousin.”
“To own the truth, I have been more concerned with the message than the messenger,” Gloria told her ruefully. “Why? Is there something more behind this voyage than that, or conveying Mr. Douglas here?” Of all the times Alice could wish her face were not so transparent … because the next words out of Gloria’s mouth were, “Is everything all right at Hollys Park, Alice?”
Her face crumple
d with distress. “Is it so obvious? This is why I avoid cowboy poker, you see.”
“You’ve assured me that all is well in Wilton Crescent, and none of the boys are fleeing the law that I know of, so that leaves one subject upon which I have noticed you to be unusually silent. That tends to be one’s first clue about a woman’s state of mind.”
At this, the corners of Alice’s mouth tipped up. “You’re as observant as Claire.”
“I shall take that as a compliment,” Gloria said with no small satisfaction. “But I am not as brave as she. I will not wade in and ask what is the matter unless you choose to tell me. I know you are much closer to her than to me.”
Alice slipped her arm around her shoulders and gave her a grateful squeeze, surprising not only herself, but Gloria, too. “But without one of us, the other would not be standing here on this bank. I think that entitles us to a certain confidence in each other.” Her arm fell away, and she hugged herself protectively, right over the hollow feeling under her ribs. “You’re right. I am here for reasons other than the obvious.”
“Is it Captain Hollys?”
Alice nodded, and Gloria’s eyes filled with sympathy as she said, “You know I have never had romantic feelings in that direction, but I do admire the captain enormously, and feel him eminently worthy of you. Oh, Alice, what has gone wrong? Do you no longer love him?”
Alice’s eyes were wet, but that could just be from the wind. “On the contrary. I love him more than ever. But there is an enormous difference between caring for the man and marrying the baronet.”
“I don’t understand,” Gloria said a little flatly. “If I were lucky enough to have secured Ian Hollys’s love, I would have no compunctions at all about marrying him.”
“Ah, but then you would wake up one morning and realize that there was a harvest festival to be organized, and a church fete, and while you are completely prepared to take on an ambush or fly to the Antipodes to deliver a cargo, you have no idea where to start looking for a festival tent.”
Gloria stared at her, clearly trying to translate such babble into sense.
Fields of Air: A steampunk adventure novel (Magnificent Devices Book 10) Page 3
