Steam & Stratagem

by Christopher Hoare

  “It does seem more than a casual circumstance when you look at it that way,” Roberta said. “But does that mean the content of our discussions is on the way to France?”

  “It could . . . as could also be the disclosure of the presence of yourself, a woman, at the Admiralty—something that has never happened before. The French will surely notice that.” He turned to his aunt. “I have promised the First Lord to obtain your assessment of the politics and rivalries in the King’s German Legion, Aunt Caroline, and also the relationships within the Hanoverians—both the soldiers and the Privy Council.”

  The Countess leaned back to study the ceiling a moment. “Quite a tall order, Julian, but I will tell you as much as I can.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Admiralty Warrant

  Roberta and her Aunt Nelly had barely finished their breakfast in the small, private sitting room in the annex of No.6 St. James’s Square when one of the downstairs maids knocked on the door to inform them they had a visitor waiting for them in the front drawing-room of the main house. “Who is it, Ruby?” Roberta asked the girl.

  “The same gentleman who visited two mornings a . . . ah, Lord—”

  “Lord Bond?” Aunt Nelly queried, her eyebrows rising. “Has he taken upon hi’self the propriety o’ visiting a single lady to whom he has never been properly introduced, Roberta? I must declare that my arrival by the Scotland steamer has not come a jot too soon. What are you thinking, my dear?”

  They rose to follow the maid into the first floor passage connecting the annex to the main house. “Hush, Aunt. I sent a note for him to come to meet you as soon as I learned you were about to arrive in London. And while I admit of a small impropriety in our acquaintanceship—it seems of small account in comparison to our meeting in the middle of the English Channel. I take every mark of his attention to be no more than evidence of gratitude for my part in saving the lives of him and his crew.”

  Aunt Nelly looked at her with a stern eye. “Aye, you may find it natural, lass. But I ha’ seen young gentlemen’s gratitude expressed in diff’rent ways.”

  They reached the staircase hall and descended to the main floor to follow the maid across the tiled floor to the double doors of the drawing-room. She opened the door and moved aside to let them enter. Lord Bond stood in front of the ornate chimneypiece with his hands behind his back. He smiled and bowed when he saw them. “I hope I have not arrived at an inconvenient time, Miss Stephenson.”

  Roberta curtsied in reply, while Aunt Nelly took the senior relative’s prerogative and merely bowed her head. “Not at all inconvenient, My Lord. We have just finished breakfasting. I would like to introduce my aunt to you.

  “Lord Bond . . . Miss Eleanor Stephenson.”

  “Ah, nay, lassie. No one knows me by my Sunday name. ’Tis Nelly Stephenson, My Lord—a pleasure to meet you, I’m sure.”

  Lord Bond bowed again in greeting, and this time Aunt Nelly attempted a slight curtsey. “Well met, indeed. Upon my soul, I had barely begun to recover from my surprise at learning England possessed a Miss Stephenson, when I find there are actually two of them. I hope you will allow me to call you Miss Nelly?”

  That lady tittered, as her cheeks reddened. “Aye, My Lord. I am not one for ceremony—I’m an engineman’s daughter an’ does answer to any name what leads me to the dinin’ room.”

  “Oh, Auntie. You have no call to excuse yourself, as I’m sure His Lordship recognizes. He is well acquainted with the Stephenson family—has met your brother on business—and knows us to be solid English working stock.”

  “Well said, Miss Stephenson. We need not put on airs and graces here—we are . . . I hope . . . among friends.” Lord Bond waved a hand to the furniture. “Would you ladies like to be seated? I have several things to say.”

  Roberta took a small chaise to one side of the empty fireplace while Lord Bond sat beside Aunt Nelly on a larger one opposite. A slight noise from the doorway reminded her then the maid had not yet left. “I’m sure Lord Bond would like to take tea with us, Ruby. Could you please bring some Lapsang Soochong.”

  “Yes, Miss. Right away.”

  The door closed and Lord Bond directed his attention to Aunt Nelly. “So you lately came by steamer from Scotland, Miss Nelly?”

  “Aye, this past week. By Clyde Puffer through the Firth and Clyde Canal to Grangemouth where I took the coastal steamer. ’Tis but a three day passage all’t way to the Pool o’ London.”

  “I hope you are not tired from your journey. Perhaps I should have waited another day before bothering you here.”

  “Nay, My Lord. ’Tis not a bother. If truth were told I found the voyage most restful . . . the sea were calm, an’ I did a power o’ sleepin’ in the ladies’ saloon.”

  Roberta watched the interaction between the two. Lord Bond’s words seemed to convey the perfect truth—he betrayed no trace of condescension and spoke to the older lady with the same easy familiarity he used with his sailing master and with Lieutenant Worthington. Aunt Nelly seemed to warm to him. Perhaps acceptance of his ready conviviality was the reason she found herself less critical of him than she had intended to be when they first met.

  Lord Bond leaned forward to speak to her. “And when will you be departing for Scotland in the Spiteful, Miss Stephenson? I daresay the repairs to the bearing are completed by now.”

  “Yes, My Lord. I received a letter from Miss Grandin, my senior engineer, yesterday to inform me that they had given the repair a trial voyage and found it satisfactory. I will return to Dover as soon as I have definite word of our business from the Admiralty.”

  “Perhaps I can settle the matter of the definite word this morning.” He reached into an inner pocket of his coat. “Lord Melville gave me this to bring to you. It comes from the Admiralty discretionary funds and I hope it will be sufficient to allow you to begin the shipyard preparations for the pending contract.”

  He handed over an envelope which Roberta opened with an act of more outward calm than she felt inside. The envelope contained an Admiralty warrant for fifteen thousand pounds sterling. She strove to push aside her indecent thrill at this evidence of her success. A few moments’ thought suggested it sufficient to order the first ironwork for three new spitefuls, as well as enough to claim priority placement in three neighbouring shipyards for the slipways to build three more.

  She took a deep breath. “Indeed, My Lord. It will allow me to make most of the preparations I need.”

  “Then I am most happy to have brought the warrant to you. I was not at ease in my own mind if it were sufficient for the task—I really must admit to being somewhat at sea with the details in this new regime of steam invention.”

  “Only natural, My Lord. Little of the business particulars are given to those outside the companies engaged in the improvement of steam propulsion. The level of confidentiality separating our enterprises likely approaches the intensity of that between nations at war.”

  Lord Bond sighed. “I suppose that means that my own further enlightenment is beyond accomplishment. I was hoping to improve my grasp of the particulars of steamships before going to the Continent again.”

  “I wrote to my father to ask if he could suggest a suitable engineer to accompany you, and have his reply in my room.”

  “Why, that was extremely thoughtful of you, my dear. And was he able to suggest such a person?”

  Roberta could not completely suppress a chuckle. “I must admit that the names were of principals in companies we consider rivals—and that their absences would, no doubt, prove beneficial to our own affairs. They are all competent engineers, but I must admit to skepticism that any would volunteer to join your mission.”

  Lord Bond looked less disappointed than she had expected. He even smiled slowly. “With your permission, I will take the names to Lord Melville. Perhaps he will use the leverage of patriotism for persuasion—or even the suggestion of some ennoblement, should the mission prove a success.”

  “I’m sorry I coul
d not offer you anything more, My Lord.”

  “But perhaps you could offer something indirectly more useful to my mission, Miss Stephenson.”

  Aunt Nelly looked very guarded. “I hopes this request is something of a conventional nature, Your Lordship.”

  “Oh, I assure you it will prove so to be, Miss Nelly.” He turned a somewhat persuasive expression to Roberta. “My yacht crew is still aboard your vessel and we must come to some agreement over their victualing, but I would first like to ask which course you intend to take on your return voyage to Clydebank. Will it be by the south and west channels?”

  “I will travel by the English Channel and the Irish Sea, My Lord.”

  “Then would it be too great an inconvenience for you to convey them as far as Falmouth, where the Admiralty has offered a Dutch prize as a potential replacement for my lost Foresight?”

  Roberta paused a moment when Ruby appeared with the tea and began to serve. “I understand from Miss Grandin’s letter that your crew has become great friends with those of the Spiteful, My Lord. They have offered much assistance in the way of taking watches and conveying passengers and goods across the harbour. I would be prepared to make them welcome for the Channel passage.”

  Lord Bond smiled. “Excellent. But I have a further request to make—if it should offer no inconvenience.”

  “Please continue, My Lord.”

  “I would appreciate your including myself as one of the travellers—and offering me the opportunity to observe . . . even more . . . participate in the conduct of the voyage in order to afford me some much needed insight into the operation of steamships. Whatever engineer the Admiralty should locate and engage for my mission, I feel the more I understand, the more secure our cooperation shall become. I know that whatever I might learn will be of insignificance compared to that I might acquire from a . . . working . . . visit to the Stephenson Shipyard, but I do not wish to impose myself upon you.”

  “Well I never,” Aunt Nelly exclaimed.

  “Your request is not beyond my inclination to grant, My Lord, but you are correct to suppose any insight would be merely superficial. In view of your need for a prompt return to the Continent to obtain the information we need to counter this French ship, I do not see that sufficient time is available for you to acquire any deeper understanding. You must leave England within weeks, I presume?”

  “That is my intention—however, I have to await a reply from my contacts on the Continent. That may not be expected before a month has elapsed.”

  “Then I might be able to suggest some information of value we possess at the shipyard that you may find useful—”

  “Nay, lassie. You must speak with your father before suggesting inviting any visitors to Clydebank. He was ver’a insistent in his words to me.”

  “Then I should write him today.” Roberta even surprised herself at her intention. Why did she look so favourably on entertaining Lord Bond at the shipyard? “The information we have there on other steamships would give you some grounding in engineering comparison—and should you have the proficiency in mathematics that would be expected in a man of your education, we can refresh your abilities to make competent estimates based upon what you learn. There are some items of vital information that a successful design to counter the French vessel must be founded upon, and I am most anxious that we might discuss these thoroughly.”

  “I find your offer most generous, Miss Stephenson. I assure you that you will not regret making it. I believe this assistance will contribute a great deal to the outcome of the mission.”

  With that, the serious business was ended and they turned to lighter things as they drank their tea. Aunt Nelly was quite subdued in comparison to her earlier open cordiality. She spoke only when spoken to and laughed little, not revealing the thoughts in her mind until their guest had departed.

  “’Tis well you should write your father to ask his approval. I see the need for his presence in our establishment during His Lordship’s visit as well. I don’t presume to judge your thinking about ship and steam matters, but I do have a judgement for your social welfare. I suggest you are more favourably impressed with this heir to a noble peerage than a girl of more modest ancestry has any right to be. Be careful what you wish, my dear. There is many a lassie that has had her heart broke by a gay cavalier.”

  “Impressed, Aunt? What makes you say that? I merely respond to the cordiality he shows toward me.”

  “Aye, ’tis the cordiality I notices.”

  “Well, I must say that the respect he shows for my father and myself is more welcome than the Tory contempt we received from those of his class over the dispute of Sir Humphrey Davy’s lamp a few years back. I would be made of stone not to feel such, but I may never see His Lordship again once the ships are built and sold. I will not be endangered by a week or two of his presence in Clydebank.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Who’s For Dancing

  Roberta felt a twinge of apprehension as she waited with Lord Bond and Aunt Nelly in the panelled and richly draped anteroom for admission to the Summer Fete presented by the aldermen of the City. The entertainment was taking place in the same rooms where the ultra-fashionable Almack’s balls were held during the height of the London season. The season had ended almost three weeks before; just as well, for she knew a manufacturer’s daughter would never have been accepted by the Lady Patronesses who passed judgement and doled out “tickets” on those who might be deemed suitable to attend Almack’s.

  Aunt Nelly wore a smart gown of burgundy muslin for the evening, as befitted a matronly woman of fifty, while Roberta had acquired a ball gown of the latest Circassian fashion for the occasion, although she feared it to be too extravagant even for His Lordship’s company. The robe of pink gossamer net over a white satin slip did not arouse her approbation, but the peasant’s bodice of satin, fastened in front with silver, and the calypso helmet cap, were fashions popular among young women possessed of far more social allure than she credited for herself. Perhaps she should have bought a different gown that merely supported her stalwart North Country femininity.

  From inside came the sound of an ensemble tuning up, and a hum of voices. The door opened and a man in powdered periwig, grey jacket, knee breeches, and white stockings looked out at them. “Can I help you, Sir?”

  “You certainly can,” Lord Bond said in a testy tone. “Please admit me, Lord Bond, and my guests, Miss Stephenson senior and Miss Roberta Stephenson. We are expected.”

  The doors spread wide and the man drew aside. “Certainly, My Lord. I apologise for not recognising you.”

  “No harm done; I’ve not been here for a year or two. It’s Budd, isn’t it?”

  “Budge, My Lord. So good of you to be so generous.” He smiled broadly as he dipped in decorous bows to them all.

  Lord Bond waved a hand nonchalantly as he took Roberta’s arm and started into the ballroom. She hesitated enough to signal a warning to Aunt Nelly that she was not expected to respond to the servant’s courtesy and cut off a curtsy that could have brought them some embarrassment.

  “Is Mr. Holmes here yet?” Lord Bond asked, clearly providing cover for their need to delay.

  “I believe you will find him at the furthest end, My Lord. It is certainly a pleasure to see him in the ballroom.”

  “Yes, quite.”

  Lord Bond started walking again as he turned his head to Roberta. “Impudent fellow—however I must admit to admiring them. The scum of the Earth as the Field Marshall calls them, our London cock-sparrers are the lifeblood of the country.”

  Roberta smiled, a little uncertainly. The “Field Marshall” would surely be the Marquess of Wellington, England’s commander in Spain and Portugal, but she hardly gave a thought to the accusation of impudence while they advanced down the side of the dance floor and she looked about the ballroom. The ceiling was quite high—enough to allow room for the double tiered chandeliers spaced down the length of the room—surprisingly retained instead of t
he new gaslights she used in her own factory and offices. The ornate decorations of the walls, with curtains and hangings interspersed with statuary, in her estimation, compensated for the lack of modernity. Both sides of the ballroom, lined with couches sparsely occupied at the present hour by a colourful scattering of young and not so young ladies; and gentlemen in dark formal attire with the obligatory knee breeches and stockings, rang with a great deal of merriment and conversation, giving an air of sparkling life and fashion to the establishment.

  Aunt Nelly made an effort to recover from her near mistake. “’Tis a grand place ye have brought us, My Lord, although I must admit to not understanding your accusation of impudence. I may be completely beyond my depth, but the man seemed very civil to me.”

  Lord Bond gave her one of his patient smiles—as Roberta judged them. He always seemed to indulge her lack of social graces with the gentle air of an instructor in etiquette. “Ah, Miss Nelly, you cannot be expected to catch the inference. It might be said that Mr. Holmes visits the gaming rooms at Watier’s far more often than he is seen in the social salons.”

  “Ah. I hope he does not lose too much—him being a friend of yourself.”

  Lord Bond laughed. “Actually the truth is much the reverse. He wins more than is good for him—I fear he will make a bad enemy one day.”

  Roberta looked up at the balcony, where the ensemble appeared to be almost ready to begin playing, and smiled absently. She had been surprised the day before when, after a final meeting at the Admiralty, Lord Bond had invited them both to this social function . . . something of a grand ball for those who lived in the city and yet might not, like her, gain admittance to an Almack’s ball. Her curiosity was raised to a degree of suspense when he had added that he would be introducing her to a friend there, and then offered no further explanation.

  She looked about as if she might pick out this Mr. Holmes by his very appearance as they walked to the far end of the hall. When she saw they were headed for three gentlemen near the refreshment table talking and sharing snuff from the box one of them held out, she immediately picked the tallest to be their objective. She was gratified at her intuition when this gentleman turned at their approach and greeted them with a deep bow.