Chapter Six
That evening Roberta went into the library and sat down to write several letters. She thought she should pen one to her husband, but first undertook to prepare the ones duty dictated. The missive to the Staffordshire iron works came first, and she appended a copy of Mr. Humphreys’ test values to her page of censure for the poor quality of the plates. Next she wrote a letter that blended sadness with the pleasure of being able to write a good and valued friend for an indulgence.
My Dear Commander Worthington,
I do hesitate to add to your already busy round of duties but I received the sad news today from Mr. Bloggins, the master of my husband’s yachts, that Midshipman Willis passed away from the effect of his wound incurred on duty as we seized the craft carrying Mr. Holmes and Captain McNab to what must have been their interrogation & subsequent execution. I feel it is incumbent upon me to determine what burden this might place upon his parents & ensure His Lordship and myself respond appropriately to assist them. However, I am not currently in a position to obtain the details and address of his family & I therefor hope that you could oblige me by forwarding the pertinent information from the records of the Royal Naval hospital at Chatham, or possibly from the log book of the Medusa should you encounter her while at sea.
I hope you might feel some pleasure in knowing that I am back at Clydebank since October First & find all at the shipyard in fine fettle with two spitefuls already showing their lines in the shape of riveted frames & the slipway for Antiochus, the new larger craft, within a week or two of receiving the laying down of the first plates of the keel. I look forward to the launching of the first two ships before the end of December & hope that you will be bringing the new crews to receive them yourself in the new year so you may see that the work has been satisfactorily completed.
She stopped to read the letter and wondered if she might manage an appropriate line or two of a more personal nature, but had to conclude that, in the circumstances, no lines of a more personal nature were appropriate. She settled for a short mention that her husband was at present in Devon visiting his father.
She sealed the letter and took up more sheets of paper to write something to send to Devon. This proved a much harder task. She knew not why Lord Bond had not written. She could not decide whether to write a note of warm inconsequentials or merely a recitation of her actions since leaving him at London. She had a terrible vision of the Marquess seizing whatever she managed to write and demolishing her words with bitter erudition. Before long she had more pages crumpled upon the floor than on her writing table.
She felt some degree of relief when her father came in with some new technical matter that had been brought to his attention. “You should read this, Roberta. I feel there might be time for you to design the Antiochus with this new method of propulsion.”
She turned to look at him and took the pamphlet from his hand. The title page declared “On the Utility and Practicality of Propelling Steam Ships with an Archimedean Screw Propeller with a Consequent Saving of Coal and Achievement of Greater Speed.”
“Read it, My Dear. It relates how a small launch built by a Mr. Pettitt Smith was tested from Gravesend and made the Nore light in but two hours and fourteen minutes.”
“Yes. A fair effort, but Spiteful can match that.”
“I think you should read the pamphlet before making up your mind, Roberta.”
“Yes, Father, but I cannot alter the design of the spitefuls at this stage.”
“Of course not, but you might consider the method for the Antiochus. Mr. Worthington did consider the stern paddle-wheels were at a disadvantage in a heavy following sea.”
“Yes. Thank you, Father. I will read the pamphlet this evening, but I would ask you to bring me a great deal more information of this experiment before I might divert some of my time from what I have designed at present. The Admiralty’s need is for a workable vessel in ten months’ time―I would suggest that adding improvements must wait until the French are defeated.”
When Roberta saw the uncommonly large congregation for Sunday kirk at Old Kilpatrick, she soon realised that most of the newcomers had purposed their worship to be an excellent opportunity for inspecting the commoner newly honoured into the nobility. Few of them had been on her acquaintance list before this day and even fewer had ever set eyes upon Lord Bond, but it seemed they all intended to rectify that situation forthwith.
“I fear we may have to employ an appointments secretary if we offer time of day to all these folk,” she whispered to her father.
“Dinna be sae cynical, Lassie,” he replied with a smile, in his usually hidden Newcastle brogue. “You would have been pleased to see half of these when you arrived in the country.”
She returned his smile. “Perhaps, but I think you must write post haste to Aunt Nelly to come and rescue us or the ships will never be launched.”
Luckily, Roberta had elected to wear some of her Antwerp finery―without the jewelled hair pieces that would have been out of place in kirk―and so was able to notice all the eyes upon her throughout the service. She felt quite sure that everyone in the country who could thread a needle would be busy for weeks to come―it was not every day that the folk from Glasgow could see the very latest of the fabled French fashions. She also wore her diamond brooch from her husband that she intended would serve as an innocent conversation piece.
After the service, she came out of the kirk on her father’s arm and found quite a throng gathered around the path through the cemetery. The sermon must have had a profound effect with its message of good neighbourliness for everyone seemed to be renewing acquaintances fallen into abeyance for many years as they awaited her passing for an opportunity to offer their heartiest congratulations upon her recent marriage.
Everyone insisted upon her and her father calling upon them at their earliest opportunity―and her husband, of course, when he was able to return to Scotland―to which they could hardly not offer an equally warm invitation for their new friends to call likewise.
The richest and most prominent person of the community, Lady Catherine Colquhoun, widow of a noted diplomat, claimed precedence for her conversation with them at the gate and deigned to admire her dress and the beautiful brooch she wore. “What a brilliant diamond, My Dear. How it sparkles like a fire. It must surely be a family heirloom.”
“Actually, My Lady, Lord Bond was able to buy it from one of the most notable diamond cutters in Antwerp.”
“Indeed? He must be remarkably prescient to have selected a stone that only you could wear so well. It must be years since we have been able to grace the Hebrews of Antwerp and Amsterdam with our custom.”
After her Ladyship moved on, they were greeted in turn by the Wallaces, the sisters Livingstone, Dr. and Mrs Cunningham, Laird Ranald McDonald, Miss Kitty Scott, and several more whose names she failed to grasp. Luckily, Clara Brad joined them on the way out of church and she hoped Clara had been listening well. Only one of her well-wishers had another purpose in mind besides congratulating her―Mr. Andrew Erskine had asked after Miss Grandin and expressed surprise when told that she was still at Chatham tending the machinery of the Spiteful.
“Ah hope she weel soon return to Scotland, My Lady. Please tell her I enquired after her.”
“I certainly will, Mr. Erskine,” Roberta said with great pleasure. She would have some excellent piece of news with which to regale Elizabeth when next she wrote.
Roberta never did finish a letter to her husband that weekend, with all the traffic of new neighbours in and out of the house. Which was just as well, because she received a much more timely and informative letter from Mr. Holmes on Monday.
Her first thought was that of surprise that someone other than her husband―or even his father―should be addressing her. She did not need to read very far to learn that Mr. Holmes accepted the duty of correspondent in the guise of a neutral party to the family discussions. Yes, Mr. Holmes had diplomatically called the disagreements a “discussion” but she soon understood that the father and son were far beyond mere discussion.
The father is consulting his lawyers to produce a new will, designating the second son, James, a lad still at Cambridge, as the heir to the Tiverton title and fortune.
Mr. Holmes then explained that this was only a tactic, since the title could not be alienated. But Lord Bond had immediately departed for London to petition for an Act of Parliament declaring that the order of succession of the Tiverton title, being a gift of peerage from the Crown, was only the Crown’s to bestow and not a matter of the preference of the present Marquess.
Mr. Holmes had penned, as his interpretation:
This is true, but that does not, itself, invalidate the will. Your Husband has many friends in Parliament and the Cabinet, including Lord Liverpool the Prime Minister himself, but in law the will cannot be challenged until it comes into effect, that is, the Marquess dies. So I feel his measure may not achieve the result he aims for; the document will continue to exist as an albatross around Julian’s neck for years.
A little further down the pages he reported on another development, if it was not too premature to call it that:
The Marquess has been writing letters and calling in favours from all his allies among the senior clergy of the Church of England. I do not see his objective as yet. Many years ago it was necessary to obtain what is known as a writ of mensa et thoro before entering into any legal procedure deciding the fate of a marriage, but that has quite gone out of practise as the premier measure. What it does is state that the husband has banished his wife from his ‘bed and board’ and that they no longer cohabit nor communicate in any way. Do not fear, my dear Sister-in-Law. It is in no way a divorce, neither does it give either party the freedom to enter into any other lawful marriage.
If the mensa et thoro comes into effect, I must ask you whether you will receive me as your neutral correspondent in these matters as your Husband suggests. If there are any further developments that impinge upon the marriage or yourself in person I will take the train to Glasgow and discuss everything in greater detail than one might attain from a letter.
Roberta read the whole letter twice before she handed it for her father to read. As soon as the letter left her hand, she felt the enormity of the likely trials before her and hurried to her room before the welling of anger and emotions betrayed her.