‘With what will you fight?’
‘Pistols.’
‘No, William! Call it off, sail now, but please don’t fight him. He is the best shot in Liverpool. He has already killed two men in duels. The only reason he is not in prison or has not been hanged is because of his father’s influence. After each duel his father made sure that Henry sailed on the first tide. By the time he returned the duel was forgotten.’
‘I have no intention of being shot,’ stated William with more confidence than he felt.
‘How many duels have you fought?’
‘None!’
‘Then be guided by me. I fought one when I was a young man and the strain of standing and waiting to be shot at is far greater than that in battle. It is so cold-blooded and Henry Nicholson is the coldest-blooded person I have ever met.’
‘Father, I will not back down and Henry will not retract his accusations, so we will fight tomorrow. I came to inform you and to say that if anything goes wrong, I want you to send the Black Swan and the Albatross to Boston. Ruth Judson will be the owner. Her father and I had a business arrangement. He has already paid me a token dollar for half of each vessel. I want Ruth to have the opportunity of paying you the balance of the cost of each vessel. I have left my share of the two ships to you, but I have detailed what I would like to happen in this letter. There is a share of the ice trade to Jamaica, which I have left to Ruth along with all my money and goods. Once you meet her you will understand why I have left her everything except the two halves of the ships.’
‘Why didn’t you leave the ships to her father?’
‘Abraham, her father, died last year and Ruth is now in control. My plan is to marry her after I have seen that you are settled. Charlotte has returned and she is about to have your child. I am happy for you. If I survive tomorrow, I intend to leave for Boston and marry Ruth. I will operate our two companies from Boston as a single combined company.‘
‘What of me?’
‘Of you, Father?’
‘If you are in Boston, I will not see you again. What of us?’
‘When your child is old enough to travel, I would hope that you and Charlotte will come out to visit. If Charlotte cannot or will not, you come, as there will always be a place for you.’
‘Can’t I persuade you to sail now? Please, son, go back to Boston and give up the idea of this stupid duel.’
‘I am sorry, Father, but Henry has gone too far this time. He ridiculed all the good men involved with the Albatross, and the reason for her being. Even if not for myself, I must fight him for the others. They have been insulted and besmirched by him too.’
George King struggled to his feet and moved around the desk and held his arms out. William’s arms folded around his father and the two men stood close, each locked in their own thoughts of yesteryear and things that might have been.
His father eventually let his arms fall, breaking the embrace. ‘I am very proud of you, William, and pray that all will go well tomorrow. Come to the house as soon as it is over.’
‘Yes, Father, I must go. There are things to arrange.’
‘Keep well, my son. Now go!’
George King turned his back to his son, but not before William had seen his father’s face wet with tears.
‘Goodbye, Father,’ whispered William closing the door behind him.
Chapter Forty-One
Miller’s Dam
William stepped down from Owen’s carriage at Miller’s Dam. He pulled his cloak tighter in an effort to retain some warmth. He glanced around and was heedful of the mist hanging over the lake on the Earl of Sefton’s estate. It was a good location for a duel, being a few miles out of town, yet close enough that the journey did not take too long. Tracks across the wet grass indicated others had already arrived.
‘Ready?’ whispered Owen.
‘Yes, I’ll wait for your instructions,’ answered William, untying his cloak and tossing it into the carriage. He smoothed his jacket for the umpteenth time. It did not feel quite right, as if it no longer fitted correctly. He peered down and saw that Sang must have altered the buttons. They were lower and made the jacket gape at the top.
William watched Owen make his way to the small group of men. He heard the group greet Owen, but could not make out their words.
After a few minutes Owen turned and waved to William to join him. William shrugged his shoulders in an effort to make his jacket fit a little more snugly and stepped out to meet his second.
‘How do you feel?’ asked Owen as they walked side by side to the dueling area.
‘Owen, stop worrying. I feel fine.’
‘I have checked both pistols and they are loaded. Henry, being the aggrieved, has the choice and has chosen his weapon. I have yours here.’
Owen handed the butt of the pistol to his friend.
‘Thank you, Owen.’
‘You can still stop this madness.’
‘The time has passed for talking. Let us have an end to it one way or the other.’
‘Stop,’ said Owen as they reached the centre of the area designated by both seconds.
Owen moved forward to greet Henry Nicholson’s second and they both agreed upon the spot where the two duellists would begin their walk.
‘Henry,’ called Nicholson’s second.
‘William,’ called Owen.
The two men called moved slowly towards the centre of the area. A stranger moved into the little group.
‘I am here to see fair play. I also have a doctor in my coach if either of you are in need of one later. You will stand back to back and on my count, you will step out ten paces. Upon my order to turn, you will turn and then be free to fire your pistols. Is that understood?’
‘Understood,’ the two duellists replied in chorus.
‘Right. Seconds, move away if you please.’ The two seconds walked back to their respective carriages.
The stranger spoke again, but this time to the duellists. ‘For the last and final time, will you both drop this madness and walk away from each other, and attempt a reconciliation?’
‘No,’ said William.
‘No reconciliation,’ said Nicholson.
‘Turn, gentlemen, and stand back to back.’
The two duellists did as ordered and each held his pistol pointing to the sky. The stranger stepped backwards, away from them.
William’s mind drifted as he took note of the morning rays of sunlight through the trees. He could see the river, the occasional white cap in the early morning breeze as diamond points of light flashed in the sunlight. How long would it be before Ruth found out that he had been killed? At least, he thought, he had parted on good terms with his father. Would they miss him if things went wrong in the next few minutes?
The breeze, heavy with the heady fragrance of the dew-wet grass, caressed his sweating face. He lifted his head and breathed deeply of the clean fresh air, a sharp contrast to the stench of Liverpool.
He realised the sunlight would be in his face as he took aim. Nicholson would be a dark shadow with the sun behind him. He pulled his jacket once more as he heard the order.
‘Gentlemen, start your walk!’
One, two, three, four … eight, nine, ten. Now for it thought William and turned.
Nicholson turned to see his opponent lit by the sun. He aimed at the top button of William’s coat, which all men traditionally positioned over their heart, and fired. His pistol kicked up and he waited for the smoke to clear to witness the result of his shot.
William staggered.
A smirk grew on Nicholson’s face as he saw William in distress, his pistol still unfired.
Nicholson’s heart skipped with joy as he saw his enemy stagger. It’s over, he thought, as he waited for William to fall to the ground. He would do the right thing and offer his regrets to William’s second, Owen Johnston, when it was all over. Now there would not be a problem with who inherited the two ships in the King family, he thought. They will pass to Charlotte when her
husband dies and we will use them on the trade.
Henry began to feel a little uneasy when William failed to collapse to the ground. He watched Owen Johnston rush towards William, but knew that the duelling rules would not allow Owen to touch him until he had fired his pistol. If Owen did touch William, Henry would ask Owen for satisfaction, which Henry thought would be a perfect ending to a perfect day.
‘No! Owen, stay away,’ shouted William, and waved Owen away as he closed on him. William staggered again in an effort to stay on his feet. The pain felt as if a red hot poker had been thrust into him, but he knew that he had to stand and fire
Slowly William straightened and raised his right arm, his hand still gripping the pistol. He took aim at the dark silhouette of his opponent, who waited to see what would happen next.
William pulled the trigger. The pistol’s kick made it fall from his fingers as he collapsed to his knees. He fell face down in the soft wet grass as the comfort of blackness overtook him.
Slowly the blackness cleared and the pain returned. William groaned as he felt fingers probe around his left shoulder blade. He was lying face down on a bunk, naked.
‘Owen,’ he whispered.
‘Lay still, Captain, or I will not be responsible for your health,’ said a voice he did not recognise.
‘Where am I?’
‘On the Lady Ann, William. This is Owen,’ said a familiar voice.
‘Owen, what happened?’ gasped William.
‘Don’t talk or move. The doctor needs you to be still.’
‘Tell me, what’s happened’ William demanded in a coarse gasp.
‘We brought you back to my ship in case the authorities searched yours. The news of the duel is all over town.’
‘What happened? Will I live?’
‘Only if you be still, Captain,’ came the commanding voice of the doctor.
‘William, the ball hit the top button of your jacket and ricocheted down your left side. It went round your rib cage and is lodged in the muscle just under your left shoulder blade. The surgeon is trying to remove all traces of cloth before the wound festers, and then he will remove the ball.’
William felt Owen wipe his brow with a wet cloth. It felt delightfully cool.
‘Nicholson?’
‘He’s dead. When you were struck by Nicholson’s ball, I don’t know how you kept on your feet.’
‘I’d have stayed on my feet to kill that pig of a man, even if he had shot me in the brain.’
William groaned as the doctor probed the wound.
‘Owen,’ whispered William, through waves of pain, ‘send the Black Swan to sea right away. Send her to Ruth in Boston. Tell Father …’
His voice faded.
Charlotte sat in the library and listened to the man in front of her. He told her of the duel earlier in the day and that her brother had been killed.
‘And the other man?’ she asked quietly, trying to hold back tears for her brother.
‘I understand, Ma’am, that he was hit by your brother’s ball and has since died.’
Her mind tried to grasp that her brother, who was so full of life, was dead. She couldn’t understand how William had been able to kill her brother. He was no match for Henry. She looked at the man again through tear-filled eyes and thought perhaps he was confused, and that it was William that had been killed, not her brother. Even in her grief, she couldn’t help thinking of the benefit to her, and her family, if William was dead. She would be able to put the two Roses on the Brazilian trade without any interference. Henry would have to be spirited aboard again, to avoid the authorities, and if he stayed away for some years, on her father’s death she would control both companies. Oh, what a happy day, she thought.
‘I do appreciate your coming and informing me of the sad news of my stepson’s death.’ Charlotte dabbed her eyes. ‘You must be mistaken as to the death of Henry Nicholson.’
‘Perhaps you are correct, Ma’am. I am only repeating what I have been told. I know your brother, Henry, and find it hard to believe that he was killed. He is an excellent shot.’
‘Thank you, Mr … er?’
‘Grange, Ma’am, Charles Grange, at your service.’
‘Thank you, Mr Grange, would you mind? I feel distraught at hearing of poor William’s death. I am sure his father will be devastated. William was my husband’s only child.’
‘Of course, Mrs King, how stupid of me to overstay, but one of the seconds asked me to let you know the details. I offered to be the bearer of such sad news, out of friendship to Henry.’
‘You are most kind, Mr Grange, but I feel I must lie down.’ Charlotte reached for the small bell and rang it. ‘Show the gentleman out, Alfred. Thank you again, Mr Grange.’ Charlotte offered her hand. The messenger stood, and bowing over her hand, kissed it lightly.
She waited until she heard the sound of Grange’s coach depart.
‘Alfred, have the carriage brought round. We are going to see Mr George at his office.’
Chief Clerk Watkins held the door of the office open, allowing Charlotte to enter the building without hindrance. All of the staff stood by their desks and bowed as she entered. She waited while the chief clerk quickly moved ahead of her to lead her up the stairs to her husband’s office.
Watkins knocked on George’s door and at the sound of his voice opened the door to allow Charlotte to pass.
‘Charlotte, my dear, what a pleasant surprise. What has brought you into town?’
‘Thank you, Watkins. Close the door as you leave, if you please.’
‘Ma’am, please call if I can be of assistance.’
‘What’s happened?’ asked George.
‘Sit down, George, I have some bad news.’
‘William,’ George said, and collapsed into his chair.
‘I am sorry, George, but I have been told he was killed this morning.’ Charlotte sat opposite her husband and began to remove her gloves.
George stared at his wife with disbelief.
‘I know, George, and I am sorry. I always liked him, even though we didn’t always agree.’
‘This cannot be true. I had Owen Johnston here not five minutes ago and he informed me that it was Henry who was killed, and William was only wounded, but he will live.’
‘Surely Henry lives. He is such a good shot and has never lost a duel.’
‘My dear, I believe that Henry fired first and wounded William, who was still able to return fire and killed Henry.’
‘No!’ screamed Charlotte, and hid her face in her hands as her world crashed around her.
George moved quickly around the desk to console his wife.
‘Don’t touch me!’ shouted Charlotte as she felt George’s hand on her shoulder.
‘My dear, I am so sorry. You must go to your mother and help comfort her. I assume you did not dismiss the carriage. I will accompany you as far as your parents’ house, but I do not think I will be welcome in their house today. I will return to Kent Street and have your maid pack a few things, in case you wish to stay with your parents for a few days.’
Charlotte allowed George to guide her downstairs to the waiting carriage. They rode in silence to the Nicholson’s imposing house.
George helped her from the coach and watched as she walked slowly up the short flight of steps to the front door. The door opened and Charlotte stepped through. As the door closed, George climbed back into his coach and ordered Alfred to return to Kent Street.
‘He needs tending to on a regular basis, which will be difficult on a ship,’ stated the doctor.
‘Thank you, Doctor, but he will not stay ashore, as he wishes to return to Boston,’ responded Owen.
‘Mr Johnston, I have given you my opinion. I have cleaned his wound and I have removed all traces of cloth, and the ball that was lodged under his shoulder blade. Fortunately for him the pieces of cloth and a small part of his jacket button were carried with the ball as it passed around his rib cage. As far as I can make out, no cloth or pieces of
button have been left in his body. I must say it is unusual to have the top button so low on a jacket. A new fashion, perhaps?’
‘No, I have ascertained that his steward heard that Captain King’s opponent would aim for the top button of his jacket, this being Captain King’s duelling opponent’s usual style. The captain’s steward moved all of the buttons three inches lower so if he were struck, the ball would enter the Captain’s body three inches below his heart.’
‘A clever and devoted man that steward.’
‘Aye, he is. He will do anything for the captain. So you see, the nursing of Captain King can certainly be entrusted to his steward.’
‘Still, I would feel more confident of his recovery if he were ashore.’
‘Be that as it may, Doctor, the Lady Ann sails within a couple of hours. May I offer you a seat when I am rowed ashore?’
‘Thank you, Mr Johnston, I will accept your kind offer.’
‘Drink some more, my dear, it’ll help the pain,’ Donald Nicholson said to his wife, who lay on the chaise longue in the library.
‘Where is Henry?’ whispered his wife.
‘He is upstairs in his room. He is at peace now.’
‘I want William King dead, and his father. I hate that family. They have brought us nothing but misery since you invited George to become involved in our family.’
Donald remained silent at the accusation as he helped his wife drink some more brandy.
‘He murdered my son!’ cried Sarah Nicholson as she pushed the brandy glass away from her.
Donald heard the library door opening and turned to remonstrate with anyone who dared to enter after he had given explicit instructions that they were not to be disturbed.
‘Daddy, tell me it is all a lie.’
‘Charlotte, I’m glad you’ve come. Is your husband with you?’
‘No, he brought me to the front door, but wouldn’t come in.’
‘I should think not, indeed,’ said Sarah as she rose slowly from the chaise-longue and held her arms open for Charlotte.
Charlotte moved into her mother’s arms and allowed her feelings to overflow in tears. ‘How could he lose to William King? He was such a good shot,’ sobbed Charlotte.
Triangle Trade Page 36
