A World of Expectations_Book 2_The Confrontation

by Gayle Lynn Messick

  “Perhaps you are mistaken in your understanding of her feelings. Her inclination may be aligned with yours?”

  “I have little hope. I assure you, there is one unmistakable influence… her mother.”

  “Oh?”

  “As my friend Darcy said, she is as mercenary as any huntress anywhere. She pushed her daughter towards me at every opportunity. Miss Bennet was always polite and never…”

  James Watt fiddled with his cup of coffee as Bingley retreated even further into himself.

  “Invite your friends to the next Lunar Society meeting, Charles. In particular, you should encourage Mr. Darcy to attend.” Noticing his nephew’s countenance had lightened and his grin returned with his approval, Watt patted his arm. “However, I warn you not to get your hopes up. I suspect they will be busy with a previous commitment or have ready another excuse for not attending.”

  “I believe they will come.”

  “Perhaps you should not mention it is a meeting, and just invite them to a dinner party.”

  ***

  Kent glanced around the area surrounding his Uncle Daniel’s home. The streets were clean, the houses well maintained and the neighbors were all successful tradesmen. His uncle’s home was near the Kent family warehouse in Cheapside. Kent’s home, left to him when his parents died in the carriage accident, was a few houses further down the street. It was not a great house but a comfortable, well-kept home. One day, he promised himself, he would live on Grosvenor Street in a grand house with many servants, and then he would purchase his own Andalusian stallion to parade through Mayfair.

  His father’s will specified that his son could not take charge of the business until he was thirty, and demanded instead for his son to enjoy life before assuming the heavy burden of responsibility. Until then, his father’s brother, Daniel, would manage everything. However, Kent, not a man who favored leisure over work, chose in its place to spend his free time working alongside his uncle in preparation for assuming his place, now only two years away.

  The Kent family was on the rise with a significant fortune increasing daily. They all appeared to prefer working to leisure as they gathered strength from the business dealings and contracts made. A member of the Kent family dominated in every aspect of commerce: import, export, shipping, textiles, manufacturing, architecture, and most recent, transportation enterprises. A Kent was involved in the building of the canals and improvement of the roads after a family member had convinced the politicians of the necessity for upgrading the highways and the profitability of doing so. Ever since he and Darcy rode the Catch Me if You Can train, Kent recognized rail as the solution for the future of transportation, and had considered building his own line to Leicester.

  In two years, Kent would inherit the largest of the family fortunes. His family referred to him as the heir, and since his position within the family was well known, every tradesman in England treated Kent with proper respect. He, in turn, maintained the honorable and trustworthy reputation his excellent father had established.

  Throwing his shoulders back as he strode inside the house, Kent steeled himself for the coming arguments he knew his family would foist upon him. Tonight, he was dining with the most vocal believers of the reformation of society—his uncles, Daniel and Milton and their families. Dinner discussions always turned into a heated debate over individual rights and the problems with class distinctions. Entering the parlor, he spied one of his uncles quickly approaching him.

  “Good evening, Uncle Daniel.” Kent bowed, relieved when he noticed his smile. Good! They have not yet begun their bickering.

  “Good evening to you, Son. Pour yourself a drink. Your Uncle Milton is helping himself, I see.” Daniel nodded his head towards the far wall, where two men stood—one older gentleman and one young man nearer his own age, his cousin Elliot.

  He joined his uncle and poured himself a full glass of whiskey, just as Milton’s eldest son slammed his glass down. “I do not want to think of commoners in complete control. They are unschooled and ignorant in the way of the world,” Elliot shouted.

  Kent leaned back and listened. He was in agreement with his cousin.

  Uncle Milton poured his son another whiskey and shoved it to him. “Whigs do not want to go that far, Elliot. You must own property in order to participate.”

  “True.” Elliot shook his head. “Yet the Tories have been in charge for a long time and have accomplished much. Are we not the world’s greatest nation? Why do you not praise them for our standing in the world?”

  “How the hell did I raise a son to be a Tory? And you…” Turning, Uncle Milton directed his stare at Kent. “Are you a one as well? My God, the word for outlaw in Ireland is Tory and they are right. Yes, sir, they do indeed steal from everyone.”

  Kent caught his breath and took a large gulp of his whiskey before responding. “I believe what Elliot says has merit. You must admit that the Tories have accomplished a lot.” Kent offered his uncle a slight smile. “Forget the Irish. In Scotland, Whiggamore means raiding party! I suspect the Whigs do want to raid the Tories of their power.”

  The men held a staring contest as Uncle Daniel suggested they finish their drinks in comfortable chairs.

  Taking his seat, Elliot crossed his legs and glared over the top of his glass. “Father, unlike you, I am not a Tory. I do not wish to destroy them.”

  Milton smirked. “No. You merely want to use them to elevate your own status. We have watched your ambition to become members of highest circles of society increase each year.” He turned to Kent. “You are the same—just like your cousin.”

  Kent raised his brows. “Is that wrong? I wish to advance myself to a better life. I cannot find fault with it.”

  His cousin Elliot nodded in support.

  “You two do not understand. They will never let you join.”

  Elliot sat tall in his seat, with his chin raised, imitating the same haughtiness he witnessed from many of his university friends. “All it takes is money. I plan to enhance my earnings in such a way that I will be rewarded by acceptance into their world. I will work with the Tories who will help me advance.”

  “They will use you, Son. They will take all your hard efforts and leave you with nothing. As I sit here today, I can guarantee you will never be invited into their world.”

  Kent cleared his throat. “Well, there are other ways to be accepted.”

  “Marriage? Do you speak of marriage?”

  Kent nodded his affirmation.

  Milton shook his head. “In order to obtain their acceptance, you would have to connect yourself to someone in the upper levels of society. They would never let their daughters marry a tradesman, mercantilist, or industrialist like ourselves. It is just not done.”

  “There are a few more open to inclusion of men of fortune. Many aristocrats are Whigs, is that not true? You cannot place all the blame on the Tories.”

  “Saving the plight of the poor and opening the doors to the Catholics is vastly different from bringing us into their homes.”

  “I am not poor, and I am not Catholic.” Kent replied.

  “No, and you are not gentry either.”

  “I will prove you wrong. I have made friends—”

  “Bah. The men you have been associating with will leave you behind. They might occasionally include men such as yourself for activities such as this competition I read about. Tell me, have you been invited to their homes when they are hosting an important dinner?”

  Kent remained silent.

  “Have they introduced you to their marriageable sisters or cousins? Or do they keep you separate from that part of their world.”

  Again, Kent remained silent. An image of Miss Bingley sitting on a bench in a far away garden came to his mind. He had made a similar warning to her.

  “You understand you are not on their level. They included you in a shooting party in a meaningless place; they allowed you to compete in their competition only because there was no opportunity for you to conne
ct yourself to their families. And you did not win which cost us all a bag of coins.”

  “Lord Blake was the better rower.”

  “Do not tell such a falsehood, Kent. What was the meaning of letting him win? The papers were riddled with stories how you rammed into Mr. Darcy’s boat. What did the Lord say to make you do his dirty work?”

  “Bah! Blake won. If Darcy believed that he would have taken his revenge out with his fists. See, no bruises.” Kent turned his head back and forth.

  “I will never believe you, an experienced rower, lost. You gave it away. Did you enjoy leaving important work behind for your sojourn to the country for fun and games?

  “Perhaps the trip to Meryton was not all leisure?”

  “Ah ha! So they did bring their sisters! I must assume we can announce your engagement any day now.”

  “No. I referred to other opportunities.”

  “Nephew.” Daniel glared at him. “Are you doing business with these men?”

  Kent shrugged.

  “Unless you have a signed contract protecting you, they will steal everything you own. Never do business with them. Always do business for them.” Daniel tossed back the rest of his wine.

  Milton added, “And even then you must understand that they may not pay on time, or if they are a member of the noble class, they may not pay at all.” The two uncles laughed. “Remember you cannot bring charges against anyone in the House of Lords. They are above the law.”

  “You mean they are the law.” The older men guffawed.

  “I have no fear of my dealings with my friends. Even Lord Blake has invited me to his estate.”

  “For what, sport? Has he invited you to a ball? You need not answer. I see the truth on your face.”

  “I do not believe you understand the young people of today,” Kent said, his voice rising. “This is the nineteenth century, and times have changed. Bingley and I attended Cambridge, their university. We were included in their group, and now in their business. And we will be invited in their social life as well. You are too old and cynical, Uncle.”

  Milton shrugged his broad shoulders. “I am just experienced. Hmmm. Business you say?”

  “Yes, tell me more. Is there any way we can benefit?” Daniel asked. “Is this why you questioned me regarding trade laws?”

  Kent relented, against his better judgment, and explained their plans.

  Daniel, the uncle in import and export indicated there might possibly be honorable actions on the part of his nephew’s young friends and agreed to help him.

  Milton, remained silent, and Kent noted that his uncle was taking in every word as if he was trying to memorize the conversation. His manner so disturbed him that when the evening ended, Kent covertly followed behind him. Milton gave the address of a house on Grosvenor Square. Why would Uncle be going to see the Falcon? Kent processed this information, yet he could not come up with a satisfactory answer. He worried that he had revealed the alliance plans, but he was thankful he had held back on the global trading scheme. He vowed to discover more before he informed Darcy.

  ***

  “Good Morning!” Rawlings announced as he sauntered into the breakfast room at Darcy House. In front of him were two men deep in conversation—Kent was talking, and Darcy listening with intensity.

  “Join us! Did you just arrive?” Darcy asked as Kent nodded his acknowledgement.

  “Straight from breakfast at Cavendish Square.” Rawlings patted his pocket. “I have brought with me the signed contracts from Mr. Cuffage. What is the plan for today?

  “Kent and I are headed out to view a few warehouses, meet with importers, and visit an official from the East India Company.”

  “What do we know about the company other than they are the referred to as the mother and father of all trade in the East Indies and beyond?” Rawlings filled his plate and joined his friends.

  Kent placed his fork and knife down. “What is it you wish to know?

  “Will we need to be involved with them for our trades?”

  “Most definitely. We will not be successful in the worldwide plan until we employ a strategy for trading in the East Indies and China. We must deal with the East India Company.”

  “Do they have a monopoly?” Rawlings took a bit of ham. “Darcy, I am disappointed there are no sweet pastries this morning.”

  “You finished eating them yesterday, except for this one.” Darcy bit into the treat he held in his hand, and then smiled as he wiped his mouth. “Mm. This is one of the best tasting pastries of all. Extremely good, really. Lemon filled.”

  Rawlings jerked his head toward the doorway, causing Darcy to look. Rawlings speared the pastry with his fork and popped the uneaten portion into his mouth. “Yes, Darcy, quite tasty. Now what were you saying about the monopoly?”

  “The East India Company is more complicated than just being a monopoly. Kent is the best one to explain.”

  “The actual transactions are between the company and merchants.” Kent sighed. “I suppose that is why I have such an extensive knowledge. My family has been dealing with them forever.”

  “Well, Kent, go on. I suspect I may need to be fully educated on them before leaving for America.”

  “True, even America cannot avoid them. They came into existence in 1600 when Queen Elizabeth provided a charter to a select group of merchants and businessmen with the express purpose of breaking the lock held by rival Dutch and Portuguese trading companies.”

  “What did they purchase back then?”

  Kent held up his forkful of eggs. “Spices. The charter empowered the company to build forts and trading posts, properly referred to as factories, maintain armies, and even conclude treaties with Asian rulers. They control all the trade since they own the factories, creating a monopoly in a way. If any merchant wishes to establish an export arrangement in India, they must do so through the Company.

  Darcy set down his coffee cup. “Could not another country take over one day and compete with the British posts?”

  “Perhaps. However, the East India Company also controls competition through pricing, since they are the only ones that do not pay custom tariffs. And they, in fact, make money through taxation of the land within established territories, and can tax any amount to a competing seller.

  “I presume that is why there are such riches to be made in Indian goods.”

  “Cotton, silk, indigo dye, saltpetre, and tea are the main commodities, all of which are exceptionally profitable. China tea is the most sought after of all teas. The East India Company does have one product available for trading desired by the Chinese. I doubt if you wish to participate in that occupation.”

  “What is it?” Rawlings asked.

  “Opium. It is banned by the Chinese government and has to be smuggled into the country. Nonetheless, vast fortunes can be made from it.”

  Darcy cleared his throat. “I am not of a mind to enter the drug smuggling world. There must be a way we can break into the China trade. Kent, perhaps you can do further research.

  Kent nodded. “My Uncle Daniel is well versed in China; however, I will admit, we have not been successful yet.”

  “Does the monopoly still stand?” Rawlings asked

  “There are efforts in Parliament to open up competition.”

  “Blake!” Rawlings and Darcy shouted in unison and then shared a laugh.