Chapter Fifteen
As Christmas Day approached, the pace of work in the shipyard increased, but never fast enough to settle Roberta’s anxieties. She took the Sunday before Christmas Eve to discuss her concerns with her father.
“I believe I will need more workmen on HMS Antiochus if we are to have any hope of completing the vessel by the specified time.”
Mr. Stephenson looked up from the newspaper in his lap. “I do not see how you may use more men than you have now. They will be falling all over one another. The sluggards will hide behind the more honest of their fellows.”
“I spoke to Mr. Coates of the Glasgow Gas Company today.”
“Really? To what purpose?”
“I want to have gas pipes installed in the Antiochus slip. With gas lights, I will be able to hire enough men to have work continued at night.” She smiled at his surprise.
“Good Heavens. Are you serious?”
“I already have gas lights in the workshops so men in the frame bending shop can work there until midnight most nights.”
Mr. Stephenson let his newspaper fall to the carpet. “Well, that is inside. Working outside would be a different matter.”
Roberta paced before the fireplace. “I will have lights and heated sheds for the men to warm themselves as needed. I feel sure the work of riveting can be carried out successfully on the coldest of nights. It is always hot work for half of the men.”
“What work can you accomplish while the gas company has the ground all dug up, my Dear? I feel you will lose speed rather than increase it.”
“They need three days to install most of the lights, Mr. Coates says. I plan to give the whole shipbuilding crew some rest time during the holiday. I spoke to Aunt Nelly about having a Christmas Fete for everyone. We can use the church hall on Christmas Day and have a service and dinner after.”
“Good Heavens, what will that cost?”
Roberta laughed. “It will be money better spent than inviting all our new, genteel friends for the kind of entertainments that they expect. I will invite them all to join us on Christmas Day to help the working men and their families spend the Holy Day in righteous gaiety.”
Her father looked doubtful. “The fine folk will not come.”
“Some will. Those who will not are not the kinds of friends who I should rely upon if the Marquess, my father-in-law, has my marriage overturned.”
Just before Christmas Day Roberta received a totally unexpected letter from her aunt―that is, her husband’s aunt, the Dowager Countess of Silchester.
“What does yon lady want?” Aunt Nelly asked.
“She will be arriving for a visit on the third or fourth day after New Year.”
“Lawk’s a’ mercy. What be that about?”
“She says she will be delivering messages from two family members―and I will understand her not naming them once we speak in person.”
“From yer husband maybe?”
“I will have to wait and see. For now we must make some plans to house and entertain her. I must tell you, on sight she seems a very rigid and imposing lady, but she has a soft side which I have always been lucky enough to foster,” Roberta said, glancing up from the letter before lowering her eyes again. “She expects to visit an old friend while she is in the district―oh, this is a surprise―she and Lady Catherine were confidants while their husbands were on the same diplomatic mission.”
“Ah, the auld dear who is so carefu’ ne’er to indulge in gossip.”
Roberta smiled and shook her head. “Let us hope their reminiscence puts both in a forthcoming mood. Lady Caroline will come to us after spending Christmas with her son, the Earl of Silchester, and his family. I am glad we will not need to expect the present Countess to visit. A more disagreeable and supercilious person I have never met.”
The righteous celebration of Christmas with the workers and their families, and even a few gentry still interested in socializing with the castaway Lady Bond, went well. Even Lady Catherine Colquhoun visited the Hall for long enough to distribute gifts of religious tracts to some of the children, and was pleasantly surprised when Roberta told her of the expected visitor.
“You must all come to visit, my Dear. Lady Caroline and I must be saved from too great a recollection of things past. It must be all of twenty years.”
But after New Year, when the visitor duly arrived, she insisted on closeting herself privately with Roberta for several long conversations before they could ever think of making a social visit. Lady Caroline made herself comfortable before the fire in the smaller, ladies withdrawing room.
“Where would you like me to start? With the Dragon or with the Rake?” she said with an ironic smile.
“Oh dear. I had hoped that I would receive something more in keeping with the season, My Lady.”
“No formalities. I am Aunt Caroline to you, my Dear, much as it distresses my brother to admit of it.”
“The Marquess has a message for me?”
Lady Caroline pierced her with a sharp gaze. “You want the worst, first? Probably very wise, but I find my tidings very unpleasant and had hoped to postpone their scurrilous message.”
Roberta stared as her visitor gathered her thoughts.
“Put baldly,” Lady Caroline said. “The Marquess wants you to consent to forwarding a legal divorce in the House of Lords.”
Roberta’s cheeks flushed. “I will not be arraigned for adultery. Never!”
“Very wise, and I approve of your sentiment. However, you must contemplate the possibility of my brother arraigning you for divorce in the House of Lords, without your compliance. I’m afraid the ordeal of undergoing an investigation for adultery, even if proved false, will likely besmirch your reputation forever.”
Roberta’s voice shook with anger. “How dare he! I will sue him for the injury.”
Lady Caroline smiled. “I do so admire your spirit, Roberta. I am almost tempted to write my brother saying he is making a mistake in refusing your marriage. You would do the House of Tiverton a power of good―but I have no hope whatsoever of that ever coming to pass.”
“The marriage will be annulled, then. There is no other possible outcome?”
“I have to say that is so. He will not change his mind.”
“But if there is no cause for divorce . . .” Roberta took a deep breath. “This conflict could go on for years.”
Lady Caroline nodded. “Until one of the parties dies.”
Roberta stared into the fire. How could she consider living under the threat of this legal action forever . . . or for very many years? Common sense told her that the angry gentleman, her father-in-law, would probably be the first to leave the field but she could not bear to think of waiting for the old man to die. What insidious and sinful thoughts might come to her after all the legal possibilities were exhausted?
What of Lord Bond? From what Mr. Holmes had told her it seemed as if her husband was more desirous of resuming the marriage than she. It was possible that he genuinely loved her, but what did that mean―given the record of his past transgressions. What kind of marriage might she expect―other than a continuous round of adulterous relationships that he may end by coming to her for forgiveness? Too much gossip existed already of noble wives who lived alone and neglected while their husbands dallied with every chorus girl and milkmaid who jumped into their bed.
“It seems that there is no solution to the problem except my own descent into sin,” she said, “and I feel the Marquess cannot seriously want me to betray the charge put upon me by my vows before the Almighty.”
“Yes, I cannot see you brought to such a pass,” Lady Caroline answered with a deep sigh. “Mr. Holmes asked me to remind you about asking the chaplain aboard the Medusa for the loan of the marriage license from the Archbishop.”
“We were going to ask for it if we were to look for errors that could annul the marriage. I am not sure that I am ready for that yet.”
“Yes, that must be considered very carefully. Let us move on to the plans your husband presented before me.”
“He has a new plan, or is this the idea of my audience with the Prince Regent?”
“The same. He feels that if the possibility of the alienation of the peerage is dismissed from contention then the Marquess cannot prevent the two of you resuming your married life.”
“But the mensa et thoro?”
“The fathers of the Church cannot be offended to see the order rescinded and the matrimony saved. Of course, my Brother can make things very difficult for you both. He can reduce Julian’s income from the estate to the barest of payments that may be attributed to the original barony of Tiverton. And I am sure you have already learned that Julian is not a one to scrimp and save.”
“He is very extravagant, I notice. But what does he plan for the audience with the Prince? Should it come to pass.”
“He has given me a list of personal traits His Royal Highness is known to possess that may advance our cause if judiciously employed.”
“Good Heavens. Is that not a proceeding verging upon sedition?”
Lady Caroline shrugged. “I am sure that thought is very shocking for a woman such as yourself, brought up as a commoner. I assure you that the machinations of the nobility very often verge upon such treasons. We are merely very careful who should hear of our intentions. It is something like sixty years since a peer lost his head for rebellion. It was Lord Lovat, the Jacobite, I believe.”
Roberta failed to find a statement that would cap her Aunt’s casual acceptance of such political truths. She stilled her apprehensions and the thought that the punishments that had threatened her in Sir Totham Wootenbury’s court were now paled by the possibility that as a member of the peerage, she was now entitled to the honour of beheading for any criminal act against the monarchy. “What are these traits of His Royal Highness that I must learn, Aunt?”
“Nothing too serious.” Lady Caroline smiled conspiratorially. “You may not have known of his friendship with the late Duchess of Devonshire, but he was quite under her spell when faced with matters of State decisions. Well, it seems that he has transferred that dependence onto the Lady’s nephew, the heir to the current Lord Spencer―not that the poor lad knows a jot about affairs of state.”
“Oh, how might that affect my audience with His Royal Highness?”
“I’m not sure, but Julian insisted of my telling.” She smiled again. “Better keep it under your hat. It’s worth a few weeks in the Tower, or at least a severe black mark on Prinny’s friends list.”
Roberta steeled herself. “What next?”
“Don’t try to discuss anything serious once he’s started on his evening decanter of cherry brandy. He might be full of compassion and concern, but he will not remember what he has promised in the morning.”
“What would I do?”
“I would suggest you choose that time to tell him of your audience with Bonaparte. He will remember something of the tales and ask you to speak more of them in the morning―then you can work in the problem of the alienation of the Tiverton peerage.”
“Good Lord. Am I expected to stay the night?”
Lady Caroline laughed. “When you are given audience by the Monarch, you are at his disposal until he gives you leave to depart.”
Roberta felt a blush start at her neck and spread up to her hairline.
“Oh, you do not need to fear anything of that sort. He is a very affectionate old chap, but his tastes lie with women far more buxom and motherly than you.”
Roberta stared at the floor for a minute or two before speaking again. “Are there any more instructions?”
“Let me see. Ah, yes. He is very sentimental, and so you may play up your plight of being refused your marriage by a very sour and dogmatic old man. That should earn his undying sympathy. And there was another.” Lady Caroline paused to think. “He loves uniforms and although he is getting too fat to complement good tailoring, he should be admired.”
“I was surprised to find that Napoleon is not the ugly little dwarf our cartoonists portray him as. He really did look impressive in his uniform.”
“Yes. Well. I don’t advise your telling the Prince that.” Lady Caroline tried to hide a smile. “So now we must come back to the nasty part. What must I tell my brother?”
“I should write the Marquess a letter,” Roberta said firmly. “I will explain to him my reasons for not furthering his intention. He is a good Christian, is he not? He must surely respect my decision.”
“It is certainly worth the attempt. It will also give him something to stew over while your husband and Holmes are working on your interview with the Prince.”
“I wonder if the Prince would like a ceremony when the first of the new spitefuls is delivered to the navy,” Roberta said. “I don’t know what Their Lordships of the Admiralty plan for it, or what they intend to name it, but I would hardly imagine the Prince could forego some pageantry if he were to inspect a ship named HMS Prince Regent.”
Lady Caroline laughed. “I think you have a wonderful idea. And you would be aboard?”
“It could be quite proper for me to be aboard when the vessel docks at Chatham.”
“I will send letters with your suggestion to the boys at once. Now we must make ready for our visit to Lady Colquhoun this evening. I’m quite looking forward to remembering old times with her.”