‘A beautiful lady, William,’ murmured Owen as they watched her progress.
‘Yes, but dangerous.’
‘William,’ called Charlotte, ‘I didn’t know you were coming to this gathering.’
‘Charlotte, good evening. I didn’t know either, until this morning when your father invited me.’
‘Oh, yes, he did say something about meeting you. Outside the church, I believe. I never took you for a church attendee, William.’
‘I’m not. You know Owen?’
‘We have met before. Good evening, Mr Johnston.’
‘Mrs King,’ bowed Owen and kissed Charlotte’s hand. ‘An honour.’
The crash of a gong rolled around the room, bringing immediate silence.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, dinner awaits. Pray take your partners!’
Charlotte glanced about because she wanted to choose the right male to take her in to dinner.
‘Charlotte, my dear,’ called her husband as he crossed the room.
The flick of her fan gave William an indication that she was not pleased to be escorted to dinner by her husband, not when there were so many handsome young men in the room.
‘Come, my dear,’ said George, holding out his arm.
‘William, my boy, a pleasure to see you.’
‘And you too, Father.’ William watched his father and stepmother join the crowd entering the dining room.
‘I have promised to escort Miss Cross to dinner,’ mumbled Owen, his eyes averted from William’s.
‘Miss Cross?’
‘The lady you called thin-faced.’
‘My dear fellow, I had no idea …’
In a semi-whisper, Owen quickly said, ‘Stop, William! Say no more. She is behind you. Miss Cross, my arm?’
Owen held his arm out for the young lady and followed the other diners.
William smiled and bowed slightly.
Finishing his drink, William waited for the crowd to thin around the doorway to the dining room. Being single, he anticipated he would be seated at the furthest point away from his host and hostess, allowing him to watch the other guests without the necessity of making pointless conversation.
William ate and drank little. The noise in the room grew louder as the wine and brandy loosened the guests’ tongues. Gazing around, he wondered how many more saddles of lamb or stuffed birds could be brought out. After the food on the Black Swan, he found the Nicholson’s food to be too rich.
His neighbours asked a few questions of him, but lost interest when they realised he did not have any gossip to contribute. He was pleased to be left alone as it allowed him to think of Ruth.
The servants set down decanters of port on the table and waited for the ladies to leave before offering the gentlemen cigars and snuff.
William wondered how to make his escape. Some of the male guests were leaving the dining room with the ladies. He glanced around for Owen, but could not see him. Then he heard his voice.
‘William, I think there is going to be a meeting. Those of us who are not involved have been asked to entertain the ladies. I have been informed that I am one of those not invited to the meeting.’ Owen nodded and quickly joined the last few guests leaving the dining room. A servant stood by the door and as the last guest left, he closed the double doors and turned a key in the lock.
William replaced his chair close to the table. He had decided to tell his host that he did not feel well and would beg his forgiveness for leaving such a splendid party earlier than intended.
He felt a soft touch on his arm and turned to see his father standing beside him.
‘William, would you like to join us?’
‘For what, Father?’
‘A glass of port, and a chat about the future. There may be something in the conversation of interest to you, now that you wish to buy the two Roses.’
William watched the remaining guests gathering near the top end of the table. At the head of the table, drawing on a cigar, sat Donald Nicholson, with his son alongside him. Banker Leyland was passing the port decanter to two men William had not seen before.
‘If you wish me to, Father,’ responded William quietly.
‘It is only right you should hear the alternative ideas for the two ships.’
‘I thought you agreed to sell them to me?’
‘I asked advice of Mr Leyland and Donald. I trust you, my boy, but I am not absolutely sure that I wish to sell the ships at all.’
Donald Nicholson waved his hand expansively when William approached. He indicated a chair across from his son, next to Mr Leyland.
‘William, it’s very kind of you to attend my little gathering this evening. The food to your liking?’
‘An interesting evening, Mr Nicholson, thank you.’
‘Gentlemen, this is Captain King, George’s son. The good captain is an up-and-coming trader in Liverpool and has interests as far as Boston.’
A murmur of greetings came from the two strangers and the banker.
‘Gentlemen,’ nodded William, and sat down.
‘Help yourselves, Gentlemen. The port is from Lisbon, as are these two gentlemen. Senor Emmanuel Rodrigues and Senor Pero Essa.’
William poured himself a small glass of port and sipped the ruby-red liquid. It was excellent.
‘Senor Essa, would you give us your proposals?’ asked Donald Nicholson to one of the two foreigners.
‘Thank you, Mr Nicholson,’ said the Portuguese, glancing at the other guests before saying, ‘my friend and I trade wine and cork to England from Portugal, and we also trade to Brazil. Napoleon’s army threatens my country. If we cannot stop him, our king will flee to Brazil and set up his court in Rio de Janeiro. Many will follow, and as a result we will have expanded trade between Brazil and Europe. To supply the needs of my countrymen in Brazil, we need ships, which is why I am here. I heard that Senor King has two ships for sale.’ The Portuguese waved his hand towards William’s father.
William’s mind was in a quandary at being included in the meeting. If his father had been offered a higher price for the ships, William expected him to take advantage of the offer.
Donald Nicholson’s voice broke into his thoughts. ‘Mr Leyland spoke to me about investments for his new bank. I was aware of Senor Essa’s requirement for ships, so I invited him to meet Mr Leyland. Senor Essa does not wish to buy the ships outright, but to charter them. Now, George, here, wishes to sell his ships and not have them chartered.’ Turning towards the Portuguese he continued, ‘Please carry on, Senor Essa.’
Pero Essa sipped his port as he gathered his thoughts. ‘I require sound ships and experienced crews. I wish to have a Portuguese captain and the ship must appear to be Portuguese. It will make things a lot easier when we reach Brazil. We are willing to pay a high rate to charter the ships, but we do not wish to own them. We are traders, not ship owners.’
Donald Nicholson interrupted the Portuguese speaker again. ‘This is the heart of the proposal.’ He waved his hand around the table. ‘To assist George to gain cash for the sale of the two ships, I propose that we buy the two ships and charter them to Senor Essa and his partners.’
‘How do you propose to split the cost of purchasing the ships?’ asked Henry.
‘We will offer shares in ownership of the ships in the same manner that we offer shares in cargo when we trade.’
Henry leaned back in his chair. ‘I cannot afford to invest in trading ships. I have my money committed to other investments.’
‘Mr Leyland will take the majority of the shares. George, and also myself, can take up the balance, if George wishes to invest. After all, he will have the cash once he’s sold the ships to us.’
Thomas Leyland laughed at the idea of someone selling something they owned and then buying back a small share.
At this point William had a feeling of disquiet. ‘What cargo will you be trading to Brazil, Senor Essa?’
‘Why, slaves, Captain King. They are desperately needed in Brazil.’
William saw the expression on the face of the Portuguese. It was an expression that told him that with the money involved he was stupid to consider any other cargo. ‘Father,’ said William. ‘For a British ship to carry slaves will be illegal.’ The scar on William’s cheek tightened as his anger grew.
‘My boy, there are ways around a stupid law,’ said Donald Nicholson.
The patronising comment further inflamed William’s anger. ‘It is the law, Father. You cannot allow the ships to be sold to a slaver.’
‘We are not buying the ships, Senor,’ said Essa misunderstanding William’s comment.
‘Father, sell the ships to me. We agreed, don’t …’
‘It is not your decision, William,’ said Donald quietly.
William glared at Donald Nicholson. ‘Why did you invite me to this meeting?’
George responded. ‘It is only right that you should have the opportunity to make an investment, and a profit from the sale of your family’s ships.’
‘Father, you will be allowing our ships to be sold into an illegal arrangement. If they are stopped at sea by our Navy, and it comes to light that they are British ships, and you knew what was happening, then you will be ruined.’
‘The Navy,’ sneered Henry Nicholson. ‘Why would they stop a Portuguese ship?’
‘My father’s ships will not be Portuguese. They will be, and are, English! Don’t be like the French and underestimate the British Navy.’
‘William,’ shouted his father, ‘we have the opportunity to make a lot of money from this venture. The slave trade is still legal in Portugal and in Brazil. We will not be breaking their law. The ships will be under Portuguese control and will fly their flag.’
‘They will be owned by an English partnership and you will risk losing them altogether. If the moral issue cannot persuade you, then think of the loss to the family if they are seized by our Navy.’
‘Moral issue,’ sneered Henry Nicholson, ‘since when has the trade been a moral issue?’
‘From the beginning of time,’ shouted William, pushing back his chair and standing. He leaned on the table and glared at Henry Nicholson. ‘Some of us have woken up to that fact earlier than others.’
The group sat in silence, watching William and waiting for his next comment.
‘Mr Nicholson,’ William said in a calmer voice to Donald, ‘thank you for dinner. I believe I can no longer stay under your roof. What is proposed here this evening is illegal, immoral and doomed to failure, so I bid you all goodnight. Father, will you accompany me?’ He waited for his father and prayed that he would join him, and leave the meeting.
‘I have agreed to sell the ships to Mr Leyland.’
‘You had already agreed to sell them to me, Father,’ said William in a quiet voice.
‘Yes, and in a year I might get paid.’
‘You will get paid and you will earn interest on the outstanding amount until I can pay the agreed price.’
‘William, I want the cash now.’
‘So be it. Goodnight gentlemen.’ William turned and strode towards the locked door.
‘In your opinion the slave trade is a moral issue?’ called out Henry Nicholson.
William stopped, half-turned and glanced back at the faces of the small group that watched him. ‘If you cannot see that, then there is little hope for you,’ he replied.
‘It must be very pleasant to pick and choose your moral issues.’
‘I do not despise the trade because it is immoral, but because I have seen the result of people being dragged from their homes and shipped across the sea.’
William watched the face of Henry Nicholson as it twisted in hatred. The broad bridge across his nose seemed to swell, which made his eyes appear smaller.
‘Because you have seen the slave ships, you think you can now judge the rest of us?’
‘The trade breaks up families and villages, and the whole way of life for the African. It is cruel and barbaric.’
‘So it is fine to be a slave in one’s own country, but not to be one overseas.’
‘Of course it isn’t fine to be a slave, regardless of where one is. I have no more desire to discuss this with you, as it would be a waste of time. Goodnight once again, gentlemen.’
The group around the table sensed something was about to happen. They watched as Henry baited William again.
‘I don’t see why you shouldn’t join us. After all, you have contributed to the slave trade in the last year.’
William turned and stared at Henry Nicholson and said, ‘Unless you can prove that, I will call you out.’
‘Do you deny you stole four blacks in Cuba?’
‘I do deny being involved in stealing blacks in Cuba, or anywhere else. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Captain King, and next time you are in Boston, count the number of blacks working for your friend, the Jew. Your agent in Boston is a trader and also a user of blacks who are in servitude. It appears you are the only one who isn’t aware of this small fact.’
‘Abraham Judson is – was, a fine man, and he only employed free men, black or white.’
‘Yet think of this, each day he transported his blacks from his estate to work in Boston, because only the blacks slept at his estate. If they were truly free, why didn’t they live in Boston? Was it because he didn’t actually pay his blacks in money, but just fed and housed them in the same manner as is done with blacks on the Jamaican sugar plantations? Go, Captain, and think on that!’
William, ground his teeth tightly, opened the door and left the room in a fury.
Chapter Forty
Hatred Flows
William ducked his head and entered the large cabin. Henry Nicholson stood with his back to the windows. Sunlight bounced off the water of the dock, causing his figure to be but a dark shape.
‘Captain King, is this a social call?’
‘It is not, and I would like you to arrange a retraction of the lies printed in today’s Gore Advertiser.’
‘What has it got to do with me?’
‘I believe you, or your father, arranged for those lies to be printed. You know damn well that I have never taken part in the trade.’
‘I did hear that you stole four blacks in Havana, and lost one before you reached your ship. Kidnapping blacks is trading in slaves, as far as I am concerned.’
William was curious as to how Henry had found out about the rescue in Havana. ‘Will you retract this article?’
‘No, I believe it to be true,’ Nicholson said as he moved towards his desk.
William tensed, not sure what Henry Nicholson was about to do.
‘Have you learned to smoke?’ asked Henry, and opened a box on the desk to remove a long thin black cigar.
‘Nicholson, no more delays. This has to be settled.’
‘Are you challenging me?’
‘Yes!’
‘As the one challenged, I have the choice of weapons. I choose pistols.’
William nodded at Nicholson, then turned to Owen.
‘Owen, will you be my second?’
‘My pleasure, William,’ said Owen, doing his best to stand still. He knew that it would be pointless to interfere.
‘Miller’s Dam, at sunrise?’ Henry proposed in a low voice.
‘Miller’s Dam,’ repeated William.
The two men stared at each other with hate and loathing.
‘Until tomorrow, Captain Nicholson.’ William inclined his head in a small bow, turned, and followed Owen.
‘Sang! Rum, chop, chop!’ shouted William.
‘William, are you really going to fight Henry Nicholson?’ asked Owen.
‘Of course, why do you ask?’
‘Because I hear that he is very good with a pistol.’
‘I must admit that I would have preferred swords. I have had plenty of practice against the French with swords, but he picked pistols, so pistols it must be.’
‘Are you a good shot?’
‘Not bad. Steady in the arm
and not too bad at accuracy.’
‘Captain, Sur, rum as you ordered.’
‘Thank you, Sang, please have my green jacket and white pants brushed and ready for tomorrow. I have a meeting at dawn.’
‘Aye, Sur.’
‘After we finish this drink, Owen, will you wait here for me? I wish to see my father.’
‘Yes, William, I’ll wait,’ replied Owen in a subdued voice.
After William had left the Black Swan, Owen sat in silence thinking of all the things that had happened in the last couple of days. He sighed as he realised there was no way he could stop the duel in the morning.
‘More rum, Sur?’
‘Thank you, Sang, just a drop more.’
‘I hear you and Captain talking about duel. I sponge Captain’s coat and lay out clean shirt for fight tomorrow?’
‘He will like that, Sang, thank you. Have you seen a duel?’
‘No, Sur. I have seen Chinese man fight and I have seen Captain fight in Havana, but not seen a duel.’
‘They will stand about twenty paces apart, aim their pistols, and each will fire in the hope of killing the other. Such a waste.’
Sang stood holding the captain’s green jacket and studied Owen. ‘What happen if Captain lose?’
‘Father, have you seen the paper?’ asked William.
William’s father sat at his desk with the Gore Advertiser spread in front of him. ‘I was just reading it.’
‘Henry Nicholson is a liar.’
‘That may be so, but what can be done about this?’ replied George, waving his hand across the open pages.
‘What can be done will be done tomorrow morning.’
‘So will the Advertiser print a retraction then?’
‘I don’t know about that, Father, but I do know that I have called Henry Nicholson out, and will meet him at Miller’s Dam at dawn tomorrow.’
‘NO!’ screamed his father, making William jump in his chair. ‘You cannot fight him!’
‘Cannot, Father? Why can’t I fight him?’
Triangle Trade Page 35
