“Put like that, I find myself inclined to humour you, and agree. So, Setford, do you have any other ‘little requests’ today?”
Setford smiled, pleased with the way this was going, then turned his piercing grey eyes to the Prince Regent’s face.
“Why yes, Your Highness, it so happens that I do.”
The Prince Regent put on a pained expression, shaking his head sadly.
“I should know better than to provide you such an opening, Setford. If you were not so valuable to me, I would not tolerate such presumption. Out with it. What else do you wish of me?”
“One property which previously belonged to the Earl of Porthaven, a place called Witherwood Chase, was the location of the traitors last meetings, before we took them. I am not certain that we have all of the secrets they had hidden in the place. That one property, I ask that you grant to Lord Geoffrey Clarence, another of the Hounds. He has been the one whose actions have foiled the last two assassination plots. And if you present it to him, I can make sure that every last inch of the place is searched, and soon, for anything the traitors may have hidden. That way, whatever is found will only be seen by one of my own men. It will reduce your risk of problems even more.”
The Prince Regent sighed rather theatrically.
“As you wish – what is one more property for my security? But Setford, do, please, resist the urge to ask me for anything more, for a long, long time. I would hate to have to actually refuse you, after all the valuable work that you’ve done.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. One more request, now, if you can bear it.”
“More? You try my patience. But speak.”
“If we could move rapidly on granting Witherwood Chase to Lord Geoffrey, that would serve well. But please take your time about conferring the Porthaven title on Mr Morton – for, as a merchant, he provides the perfect cover for my man in the Americas, but as an Earl that would be rather less effective. Let the papers all be prepared, but let the actual presentation wait until he returns, which will be Christmas or a little after.”
“That, I can grant, although I would have preferred it all done with now. Please, work with Bridgemont as usual, and he will ensure that all is done as necessary for my signature and seal.”
“Your Highness, you are gracious and wise as always.”
Setford bowed, waiting leave to depart.
“Now you are being a shameless flatterer. Off with you – don’t you have spies to supervise?”
Setford bowed again, and left, well pleased with the day.
Raphael stood at the rail, the wind in his hair as the Morton Prosperity flew across the seemingly limitless sea. Excitement still curled through him at the thought of seeing new places, meeting new people, and creating new trade partnerships. From that first conversation with Setford, it had taken but a few weeks to be ready and gone.
Part of him worried about how things would go, at home, but he reassured himself with the fact that they had done perfectly well without him when he had still been at war. Worse than the worry, though, was the fact that he missed them, missed his family, and, most especially, missed Sera. No matter how he berated himself for a fool, he could not let her go, could not, really, accept her choice. And effective distraction from thoughts of her was proving hard to achieve.
Still, the sea was beautiful, they had been blessed with fine weather, he had good company, and an adventure of sorts ahead of him. Why then did he feel blue-devilled more often than not?
The weeks passed in a dreamlike manner, each day so like the others that he wondered in awe how his captains and sailors stayed sane, and kept track of the days. Oliver was good company indeed, and full of interesting ideas about how people and land might be made most productive, in ways positive for everyone.
For Raphael, discovering a man of the nobility who cared about the fate of the commoners was fascinating – in general, the only noble men who had cared, in his experience, were those who had gone to war, and served in the field with men of all classes. And even most of them had thrown off any concern about others once they had arrived back in England.
Their conversation ranged widely, and they spent many hours discussing the trade possibilities, the men that Oliver hoped to introduce Raphael to, the likely political attitudes of those known to Oliver, and more. Oliver’s descriptions of the land were evocative, and made Raphael wish, even more to see a place so different from his home. By the time the Morton Prosperity made port, Oliver knew more of Raphael than anyone other than the Hounds (and possibly Setford…) and the two men had become fast friends.
They had a plan, which would begin with Raphael and his captain negotiating the sale of the goods that filled the ship, and the purchase of goods to fill her holds on the return voyage to England. She would go back without them, and then return somewhere close to Christmas, with another cargo to sell, and stay in port until Raphael and Oliver were ready to return.
Exactly when that would be was uncertain, as passage times very much depended on the weather, and the winds.
They would be sending back letters, with whatever ships were able to carry mail, at regular intervals – both letters to their families, and carefully coded letters to Setford, apprising him of their findings. Both men hoped that the mood in America would be positive, and well inclined towards the proposed new treaties, for a stronger peace would benefit all.
Oliver had sent letters ahead, by the earliest ship possible, once he had been certain of when they might expect to be arriving, in the hope that his letters might find those he had known well. It seemed that fortune had smiled on that hope, for, when the Morton Prosperity was finally tied up alongside the impressively large dock in Yorktown, there was an older gentleman waiting, watching, obviously looking for someone. His face lit with pleasure when they stepped down onto the dock, and he hurried forward to take Oliver’s hand.
“Oliver! It is good to see you again. I worried, when you left, as our countries went to war, that I might never see you again. Yet here you are!”
“Bradford! My letters found you then? You’re looking well – I hope that the war did not do too badly by you?”
“No, no, not in the end, we were fortunate – and trade is picking up now that we have peace. There’s talk of sanctions and agreements, but so far things go well for me.”
Two sailors deposited Oliver and Raphael’s trunks beside them. Raphael asked them to tell the Captain that he would call on him the following day, then turned back to Mr Bradford, who looked enquiringly at the relatively small trunks.
“That’s all your things?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, I’ve a carriage over here, let’s get it loaded up, and be off to somewhere rather more comfortable than the dock. I expect you’d be glad to see some fresher food and drink than the ship likely has by now.”
“Indeed, that would be most welcome.”
Soon they were moving through the town as Mr Bradford chattered away to Oliver about people he knew, and what had become of the places that Oliver had lived and worked. They turned in through the gates of a fairly imposing house, and Raphael was grateful for Oliver’s contacts – it seemed that they would start their stay in this country in significant comfort.
~~~~~
Bradford’s house was comfortable indeed, and his cellar well stocked. Some hours later, after soaking in the heaven of a warm bath, and dressed in truly clean clothes for the first time in weeks, Raphael relaxed in an elegantly carved chair savouring a large brandy. Mr Bradford was still updating Oliver on the last four years’ worth of news.
“Oh, I’ve just realised. I should have told you sooner. As you asked, I sold off everything that you were forced to leave here when you left for England. Raised quite a tidy sum. So I invested it for a bit. And just this last six months, that investment paid back. I’ve purchased you a nice little estate with the proceeds. There’s a fair sized and well put together house, and enough land to return well for you if its managed right
. I hope you’ll like it.”
Oliver looked stunned, and took a moment to compose himself.
“Bradford, that’s far more than I hoped for. You’d have been within your rights if you’d simply rolled the funds into your own, in recompense for the trouble. I am deeply grateful. And I’ll be asking your investment advice. I’d planned on buying some land hereabouts, even though I’ll be spending most of my time in England in future – for I’ve a title and lands there – and a wife now.”
Oliver almost blushed as he spoke, and Bradford launched into a round of effusive congratulations, and refilled the brandy glasses.
The day drifted into evening, and Raphael was certain that the following day would bring all that he needed to begin establishing good trade relationships here.
~~~~~
They began the day with a visit to Greenridge Hall, the estate that Bradford had purchased on Oliver’s behalf. It was rather more impressive than he had made it sound, the house quite large and well-proportioned, and in good condition, located high on a hill with an excellent view. Oliver was delighted – when he had returned to England, he had fully expected that Bradford would simply turn whatever funds he raised by selling off the last of Oliver’s possessions to his own survival. This was a surprise of the best kind.
Raphael and Oliver decided to base themselves at Oliver’s new property.
Whilst they would likely travel extensively, to further both Raphael’s trade opportunities, and Oliver’s mission, having a base which was theirs, and not an impost upon anyone else’s generosity, was wonderful. Staff were soon arranged, including some who had worked for Oliver before, and they turned to matters of trade.
Late that afternoon, Raphael was introduced to a number of the merchants of the area and was pleased to discover that the goods which currently filled the hold of the Morton Prosperity were most definitely of interest to them. Once arrangements had been made with his Captain for the merchants to visit the ship over the next few days, Bradford accompanied them back to Greenridge Hall.
Over dinner and later brandy, they mapped out the days ahead. Whilst they spoke mainly of the trade opportunities, Oliver took the chance to lead Bradford into gossip and speculation about politics and the sentiment amongst the people, since peace had settled on the land again. Bradford, ever one for talk, was most informative – about both trade and other matters.
As he readied for sleep, Raphael felt happier than he had for some time – but underlying it, the ache was still there. He missed Sera, if he were truthful, perhaps more than he missed his family. But where he would be returned to his family in time, he might never be permitted to be part of Sera’s life again. He pushed the unbearable thought aside. There were months to pass here before he would have any chance to be near her again, even should she permit it.
Still, when sleep came, his dreams were full of her.
~~~~~
The cargo of the Morton Prosperity was sold for a sizeable profit. Raphael then negotiated some excellent deals with suppliers of a variety of interesting goods, and soon her hold was full again, with items as diverse as plain quality cotton and carved curiosities from the native peoples of the area. Raphael was certain that those would bring good prices from some of the obsessive collectors amongst the ton. She departed for England, bearing letters from Raphael and Oliver, as well as her cargo.
The weeks turned into months, and Raphael acquired a warehouse, and appointed a local man of good standing to be his manager and agent. With Oliver, he travelled extensively, meeting men of influence, and seeing much of this vast new land. Mostly, he enjoyed himself, but the underlying concerns were still there. In quiet moments, he wondered about what was happening at home, and wished for some way to change things, to go back, and have that terrible moment, when Sera had stormed out of his house, never have happened at all.
He could not let go of the puzzle of her reaction to hearing Charlton’s name. How could he convince her that Charlton was an honourable man, if she would not even see or speak to him again? Yet the more he thought about it, the more he knew that he must try. He could not bear to spend his life with the puzzle unsolved and with the woman he most cared about hating a man who was amongst his closest friends. But he had no answer to the conundrum.
~~~~~
Jenkins was dealing with the orders received that day when Mr Manning knocked on his office door.
“We’ve news that the Morton Prosperity is in English waters. She’ll likely dock in the next few days, so we’ll be busy. I’m expecting that she’ll want to unload, reload, and be on her way again as fast as possible, for the passage will be harder at this time of year. So whatever you’ll be wanting to send back on her, to Mr Morton, you’d best have ready.”
“That’s excellent news! I’ll put together the package of reports and the family’s letters. It’s a blessing that we’ll be sending him all good news, for I’m sure that he worries.”
“True, true. He’s a good-hearted man.”
Manning took himself off to warn the warehouse workers, and make sure that all would be in readiness for the ship’s arrival.
The year was closing in, the unseasonably cold summer had been gone all too soon, and the leaves turned to reds and golds earlier than usual. Winter was approaching, as the leaves fell from the trees, and Christmas seemed close. Sera found that her days felt endless – empty of the one person she most wished to see. Yet they also felt too short, as the ever-increasing rush of orders for favours continued.
Once the Season had finished, the demand for the flower cards had slowed, but it seemed that the demand for the simple heart shaped favours never diminished. They had added other products, like exquisite uniquely designed cards for members of the ton to send as invitations to events, and had also developed some exclusive decorated stationery designs for famous actresses as well as various arbiters of fashion. Every day, more favours were ordered.
And now they were planning their products for Christmas. The thought made her sad.
For this would be another Christmas devoid of joy. Another year since James had killed himself, another reminder that he was gone. And added to that was Raphael’s absence.
The months since that fateful day when he had uttered the devil’s name, and she had stormed out of his house, had given her plenty of time to think. By the time that she had realised just how much she missed his presence, it was too late. He had done as he’d often talked about, and left with one of his ships. She had told herself to forget him, that she was better off without a man who was a friend of that devil Pendholm, but her heart stubbornly refused to listen.
Eventually, she had been forced to admit the truth, to herself, if to no one else. She loved him. It was that simple, and that utterly complicated. She deeply regretted having said that she would never see or speak to him again. But she would not go back on her word – for any man who could be a close friend of Pendholm’s had to be as bad as him, or condone his actions. She was a fool to love such a man, yet she did. She suspected that she always would. She would simply have to bear it – to do anything else would dishonour her brother’s memory.
Still, she wished that she knew what was happening to him. She knew that he had sent letters to his family, but there were none to her. She could expect no less, after her actions. Sophia and Bella had convinced her, after some weeks of effort, that she should, at least, still spend time with them, even if she refused to see or speak to Raphael. After all, there was no chance of her meeting him accidentally, when he was on the other side of the world. They promised also not to mention him in her presence. She allowed herself to be convinced, because she valued their friendship.
But visits to their home were bittersweet – for everything there reminded her of Raphael, even if he was never mentioned.
She was certain that Jenkins kept Raphael informed, via letters, of the progress of their business, but he, also, never mentioned Raphael in her presence. He just looked at her sadly, and continued with his ve
ry efficient management of the orders and the deliveries.
If the business continued to grow, soon they would need a bigger building for the manufactory.
Sera stared out the window, watching the leaves fall, and found herself close to tears. Life felt pointless, yet she had no solution, no option but to go on, day after dreary day.
~~~~~
Porter Arbuthnot solicitously tucked the carriage blanket around Isabella’s knees, but ignored the shivering Liza as she settled on the jump seat at the rear of the carriage. The maid was a nuisance, but Isabella still insisted on her presence.
They took their usual path, winding through the streets until they turned through the gates into Hyde Park. It was becoming harder and harder for him to be charming and cheerful. The girl prattled on at him as usual, about all sorts of things he cared nothing for, but she’d not yet, ever, told him something he could really use to overturn, or at least damage, her family business.
He consciously unclenched his jaw, and spoke, to prevent himself from grinding his teeth.
“This cold weather makes Christmas seem close, doesn’t it, for the leaves are almost gone from the trees already, though its only October.”
“It does. I love Christmas, even if it is very cold – there’s just something about it. It seems amazing that it’s a year since you gave me that Christmas favour that started so much for our business! And now we’re planning exactly what kind of favours to make for this Christmas. The shops are already asking what designs we’ll have!”
His jaw clenched again, and he did grind his teeth.
Why did he continue to torture himself by driving this girl about? It had become blatantly obvious that she’d never consider letting him touch her, beyond a hand up into the carriage, and all she ever told him was things that he couldn’t use against the Mortons! This news about Christmas favours was really the last straw. He particularly hated that the whole favours business was his fault – that he had done something that started the thing that had made them so much money.
Winning the Merchant Earl: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 8) Page 5
