by Dawn Brower
It was obvious that Liam’s beliefs were in direct opposition to his own. Rand clenched his hands into tight fists underneath the table as anger and frustration permeated his whole body. The boy probably had a point, although minute, Rand however did not want to deal in passenger ships. People made things messy. They could be demanding and irritating on a good day and damn abusive any other time. The chances of him being willing to start a passenger line bordered on slim to none.
“Is that the only good thing you can think of for steamships? What about cargo that requires a faster delivery? I know you English favor your tea. Steamships travel at faster speeds and allows for a swifter arrival. This means what you deem to be important cargo will arrive to its destination much sooner.” He had to gain control of the conversation before these idiots talked Devon out of investing in his shipping line.
Steamships did make great passenger ships. The mail packets arrived much faster when they were placed on a ship powered by steam, but Rand had grander ideas. There were plenty of reasons to start investing in steamships. Those that began to do it sooner would have profits much sooner than those waiting to see if it worked. Sometimes it was worth it to take on a risky venture; although Rand didn’t think it was as chancy as they were making it sound.
A bit of color formed on Liam’s face. He clearly didn’t like pointing out flaws in his estimation of the value of steamships. “You make a valid point, sir. Some cargo could benefit from the faster steamship. There is a clipper design that has been noted to bypass even a faster steamship. The record for the ship surpassed the fourteen knots of the steamship. That clipper managed to snatch up some of the tea trade. We had a few ships built around that design and they have worked wonderfully with any cargo that requires a more speedy arrival.” Liam continued to glare at him as he spoke. His eyes crunched up in disapproval and his lips pursed into a thin line.
“Okay, I admit I’m just getting more confused the more these two gentlemen talk. Tell me straight Torrington, are steamships a good investment?” Devon asked.
“The short answer is yes, and no.” Torrington grinned.
Torrington had an amused smile on his face as he watched his son sit back in displeasure. Apparently Liam’s attitude entertained him or it could be the volley of their conversation back and forth, Rand didn’t care to know what that something was though. He just wanted to derail them before they ruined his investment possibility. Damn them and their advice. If they kept talking about the negativities surrounding steamships they were going to talk the earl out of investing, and Rand would be right back where he started.
“That doesn’t bloody help me.” Devon threw his hands up in frustration.
“That’s because there isn’t an easy answer to your question. Any new venture is risky. All signs point to steamships eventually taking over. There are a few ships that are built to be powered by both steam and wind. We are having a few of those built to try out in our shipping line.” Liam rested his hand on the table and tapped his forefinger on the polished wood as he explained, “The idea is that if coal runs out or becomes too expensive the option to use wind is still available and not all will be lost in the voyage. It will probably be a few years before we branch into a ship completely powered by steam.”
“So you both do not believe steamships are the sound investment right now?” Heat began to dissipate through Rand as his anger reached a boiling point.
“In the future yes, but now it is still risky,” Torrington said. “They are making a lot of progress in their designs, but they all have flaws. I’d go with what is a known quantity.”
Rand unclenched his fists and wiped his sweaty palms over his thighs. His lips pursed in displeasure as he considered how to proceed. He couldn’t erase the irritation from his voice as he spoke. “And yet you are still willing to try out a glorified clipper ship that could also be powered by steam?”
“Yes.” Torrington continued with a bit of mockery in his voice, “I did say I leaned towards clippers at the beginning of the conversation.”
Damned Englishman, and their perverse ways. The conversation was spiraling out of control. Rand tried to steer the conversation in the direction he wanted, but they were relentless in their opinions. He curled his fingers into fists underneath the table and refrained from smashing them against the polished wood.
“I’ll admit there is a certain beauty about clippers, but let’s be realistic. The popularity of the ship has faded a lot over the past twenty years. The ship isn’t seen in quite the same light as it used to be.”
“So do you recommend investing or not?” Devon asked as he turned his attention once more on Torrington. “I need to give the man an answer.”
Torrington looked at Devon and shrugged his shoulders. He looked him directly in the eyes as he spoke. “Honestly, it’s up to you and how much of a risk you are willing to take with your money. It isn’t a bad investment. No matter what, eventually you will make money.” Torrington picked up his drink and took a quick swig. He set his glass back on the table and scanned the table before his eyes landed on the Earl. “To put it simply, Devon, it depends on the market and how well the cargo is managed. I did look over his plan and RandCo has been steadily gaining in capital. It just hasn’t been at a rapid pace. Expanding at this juncture requires more money and it’s not gaining enough on its own.”
The more they opened their mouths the more irritated Rand became. He couldn’t believe the gall of these men. They were talking around him instead of including him in the conversation. He had to force his way into it in order to be heard. He built RandCo all on his own. Yes, the progress had crawled at the pace of a snail, but the growth remained true. It might take him longer than he wanted it to, but he could continue to do it on his own. He’d be damned if he remained sitting here taking their distain and disapproval.
Rand forced his way into the conversation. “Good of you to give the stamp of approval on my business, Ol’ Chap. Why don’t I save you all the time and just say that the offer is off the table. I don’t especially like being discussed like I’m not here.”
Liam began, “We didn’t mean to imply—”
Rand interrupted, “Save it. You act like I don’t know a lick about business. I built this company all on my own without your expert advice. I can continue to assemble it without your money too, Devon. I admit the boost probably would have made expanding easier. I just don’t like the strings that extra help apparently comes with.”
He looked over and found Torrington studying him as if trying to ascertain his origin. He must not have a lot of experience dealing with Americans. He knew he could be a bit brash and defensive at times, but he had no desire to change.
“A bit hot-headed, aren’t you.” Torrington raised his eyebrows at him and a quirky smile lifted at the corners of his mouth.
“A product of where I happened to be raised, I suppose.” Rand shrugged.
Torrington laughed before saying, “In America? Yeah, I suppose that could be the explanation. From my experience most of you could take a bit of lessons on diplomacy.”
“And you all could learn to be more accepting of the differences in all men,” Rand retorted.
“Down puppy. I meant no offense. My wife happens to be American. She can be a bit...stubborn at times. Don’t do anything rash,” Torrington reasoned.
Rand had to admit that little tidbit amused him some. Torrington’s wife must be an exceptional woman to put up with his arrogance on a daily basis. It would be interesting to meet her and get a more in depth look at her character. “Your wife’s American? What state did she hail from? Maybe I know her family.”
“Doubtful as they all died a number of years ago. Her plantation is being run by an overseer at present. It’s located in Charleston, South Carolina.”
“I never knew that,” Devon stated.
“Yes, we’re lucky it survived the War Between the States. She left shortly before the war broke out and sailed to France to live with her grandper
e,” Torrington explained.
“How ever did your plantation manage to survive the war?” Rand had to admit that he found it interesting that they had a plantation in Charleston that survived the war. A lot of the plantations had been burned to the ground by the Union army.
“Luck mostly.” Torrington leaned back in his chair. “The union army decided to use it as a hospital. My wife, Pia, told her overseer to remain as neutral as possible and that allowed for a certain amount of leniency from both sides of the conflict.”
“Well if we’re done discussing business how about a bit of pleasure?” Devon asked.
“What do you have in mind?” Torrington questioned as he leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “I have plans with my wife this evening and can’t be drawn into anything too extensive.”
“How about a game of whist?” Devon asked.
“I have to be back in a couple hours to take Lily to that ball.” Liam looked at his father as he spoke.
Torrington nodded. “Good point. Lily has a temper and she isn’t afraid to use it. Best if you’re not late. Why don’t you take the carriage home and send it back for me.”
“I can always give you a lift back, Torrington,” Devon offered. “Although I’m supposed to go to that blasted ball tonight too. Gemma is expecting me to escort her.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, I think we’ll have to attempt more amusing pursuits at a later date. Maybe tomorrow night?” Torrington looked to Devon for confirmation.
“Splendid idea.” Devon nodded his affirmation. He turned towards Rand and asked, “Collins, you want to go to the ball?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever been to a ball before. Sounds fun. I have a few days before I sail back home. It could be a nice diversion.” Rand had been watching them discuss their options for entertainment. It resembled a pugilist in the ring; they volleyed shots back and forth at each other and danced around any real issues. If he hadn’t been so irritated, he’d be a bit more fascinated by their way of speaking to each other. He never had any desire to go to a ball before, but he could add it to his once in a lifetime experiences.
“Good, good. Then just come with me to my townhouse. My valet can help you get ready and you can help me escort my daughter, Gemma.”
Rand got up to follow the earl out of his club. He nodded at Torrington and Liam. “Nice meeting you gentlemen. Perhaps we’ll see more of each other before I depart.”
Pompous jerks. His real wishes didn’t even come close to wanting to see them ever again. He knew he’d see them at the ball later that evening, but hoped it would be the last time he ever laid eyes on them. They single-handedly made him restructure his whole plan for expanding his business. He didn’t hold them in any high esteem. The meeting did not go as he intended it to. These men and their grand ideas, or lack thereof, had made sure of that. No, what he felt for them bordered on hate. He had to deal with uppity men who believed they were better than him his whole life. A person didn’t grow up in an orphanage without having some lasting internal scars. The emotional distress the high class brought out was deep rooted and he couldn’t let go of it easily. In his experience they didn’t give a damn for anyone, but themselves. These individuals were not different. If he never saw them again he might be able to forget their existence.
Chapter Three
Lilliana sat down at her vanity table and put the finishing touches on her hair. She did very well getting herself ready without a maid of her own. Having to depend on anyone for assistance went against all of her ideals. She had been ordering dresses that were easy to put on herself since before her come out ball three years prior. It had taken her a while to learn how to do her own hair, but like anything she put her mind to she excelled at it. Today, she wrapped her ebony curls partially up in a chignon with a few curls falling down to frame her face. Satisfied with her handiwork, Lilliana stood up and stepped into black satin shoes. She stopped wearing light colors when she decided never to marry. Young girls wore pastels. While they didn’t have much choice in the matter, she certainly did.
Society dictated that if a lady remained unmarried they needed to appear more demure. One of the ways to convey that distinction to the world was in the color of their dresses. A year ago Lilliana decided she that she would no longer wear such hideous colors. White and pink did nothing for her complexion. She needed bolder colors that enhanced her looks. So she convinced her mother to allow her to wear something more suited for her. After a long heated debate she won and had more flattering colors for her wardrobe. She reached down and smoothed the skirt of her cobalt ball gown. The blue gown enhanced the color of her eyes and enhanced their appeal. She had fallen in love with the color and fabric when she visited the modiste a few weeks ago. It made her happy to be able to finally show off the creation at a ball.
Lilliana loved to dress up and attend parties. It made her feel special and beautiful. Not to mention how fun it was to be able to dance and laugh with her friend, Gemma. She may not want a husband, but she still knew how to enjoy herself within the expectations set by the ton.
Lilliana grabbed her gloves and left the room. She walked down the stairs just as her brother walked in the door.
“Oh good, you’re ready to go,” Liam said.
“Did you doubt I would be?” Lilliana raised her eyebrows at her brother. “I’m always prompt and you know it.”
They were twins, not that you could tell by looking at them. They each had very distinct features. Lilliana looked at Liam noting how much his coloring favored their mother. She couldn’t help wishing once again she favored her mother instead of her father. They may each take after a different parent, but one thing remained true; a Marsden didn’t take it well when someone ordered them around. Liam had a more diplomatic personality, but even he had bursts of temper. Liam managed to hold on and fight battles he believed were worth the energy needed to expend in order to win them. When he happened to be in a rage though, it was best to clear the room because he exploded when he couldn’t hold his anger in.
“I’m aware of your tenacious attitude. I’m always prepared for a battle when I have to deal with you,” Liam declared.
“Nonsense. I’m the epitome of graciousness.” Lilliana flashed Liam a wholly wicked, gamine smile.
At her pronouncement Liam began to laugh. His chuckles bounced over the walls and boomed loudly throughout the entrance hall. The color of his face became bright red as he gasped for breath. Lilliana moved past him to wear her pelisse hung by the door. Early spring in London still held a chill, and she didn’t want to be cold as they traveled to the ball. After she had the pelisse securely around her shoulders, she turned back to her brother. His laugher slowed down to a light gurgle as if he attempted to rein it in.
“I don’t see what you find so funny, little brother.”
“You are never gracious. You’re a demanding wench, and you know it,” Liam retorted.
Ignoring him, Lilliana strolled towards the entranceway. They walked out of the front door and into the awaiting carriage. Lilliana waited for her brother to be seated before she replied to his taunt. No reason not to be comfortable for the upcoming disagreement.
“No need to be mean, I can be nice. “ Lilliana tilted her head. “If it serves my purpose.”
“Lily dear, you don’t do nice. You scheme and cajole your way into everything. No worries, I love you and wouldn’t have you any other way. It’s part of your charm.” Liam flashed her a smile that mirrored hers. He could look positively wicked at times.
“You’re just trying to suck up now for acting like a bird-wit.”
“Awe, that’s a bit harsh. I’m never thoughtless. You know that,” Liam told her.
“Then explain your actions just now?” Lilliana raised her eyebrows in question.”‘Cause you generally don’t act like an arse.”
“I met an interesting American today. His comments grated on me a bit.”
Lilliana’s interest piqued at his comment. She couldn’t ti
p her hand too much, or he’d latch on to her questioning and ask some relentless ones of his own. They were fairly close and often sensed things about each other. Liam knew her too well and probably would figure out before anyone else what her actual plans were. She couldn’t allow that to happen for any reason. He would do everything he could to stop her from traveling to South Carolina.
Besides leaving Gemma, she would miss Liam a great deal. If anyone could persuade her to abandon her plans, it was her brother. So she began her questions remaining as neutral as possible.
“What did he do to irritate you so much?”
“I can’t pinpoint it exactly. I think it was basically centered around his attitude. He had a penchant for rudeness.”
“Sounds like an interesting chap. Any chance I can meet him?” Lilliana inquired.
“For what purpose? You aren’t going to start some kind of feud with him because he was annoying, are you?” Liam questioned.
“Please.” Lilliana raised her eyebrows. “What kind of person do you take me for?”
“The kind that enjoys trouble a bit too much.”
Liam did have a point—she enjoyed getting people riled. She often said things just to see what kind of reaction she could get out to them. It amused her to no end how often they fell for it. This time though she really did want to meet the American. He must have arrived in England by way of ship and chances were he’d know the next ship sailing back home.
“You know me too well. I don’t like people that aggravate my family in any way.” Lilliana agreed.
“No worries, he didn’t bother me that much,” Liam replied, “but if you really want to meet him then you will have a chance tonight.”
“Really? Why is that?”
This was going rather easy. Almost too effortless, and maybe she should take that into consideration, but Lilliana believed in taking risks. She needed to know why he was going to be at the ball. Any information about him would be useful in gaining his trust and help in obtaining the necessary sailing schedule.