A War by Diplomacy

by John G. Cragg

  Glaucus had sailed well beyond the Danish fleet before Captain Madsen declared that he must leave. Giles saw him over the side, again with the appropriate ceremony. It was only when they were nearing the end of the strait that he realized that Captain Madsen might be playing him in the way that he had been attempting to fool the Danish captain. He would have to include that possibility in his report, not that it would matter much. He would need to reach Russia before the report could be included in the Ambassador’s dispatches and then it would still have a long journey to England and the Admiralty. Giles was unhappy that he should have to learn to curb his tongue when dealing with men of the sea. His own inclination was to be straightforward and not guard his thoughts to conform to some complicated diplomatic chess game that he found to be very hard to figure out.

  Chapter XIII

  Daphne’s first task on her return to Dipton was to make sure that everything was well with the girl by whom her half-brother-in-law, Thomas, had had a baby. She knew, of course, that the child could never be acknowledged as part of her husband’s family, but, even so, she felt a responsibility towards the girl. She found her in the dairy barn with the new-born baby close at hand in a basket.

  “Nancy, you have arrived safely, I see. Are you being looked after adequately?”

  “Oh, yes, my lady. Mr. Scramps, the head cowman, has made sure I know my duties and that my cottage has everything I need. And Mrs. Wilson has been very helpful. I never knew that a housekeeper could show such concern for someone like me. She even insisted that Thomas here needed better clothes.”

  “Thomas is your baby’s name?” Daphne asked. Her own baby took this moment to start kicking again. She thought wryly that he must be trying to greet his half cousin. The thought sobered her. She should indeed feel an obligation to this girl.

  “Yes, my lady. I named him after his father, much good that that did us.” A tear glistened in Nancy’s eye.

  “Well, Nancy, I hope you will be happy here. If you need anything, tell Mr. Scramps.”

  Daphne’s next task was to find out how the work on the new vista was proceeding. The men in charge had their usual list of difficulties that they had encountered and overcome, and they were still on schedule. From what Daphne could see, things were progressing well. It was likely that the main work could be done before winter weather turned some of the low-lying ground to mush. She did realize that while they asked her approval of some steps they were about to take, they had mastered many similar problems in her absence. She had been very careful whom she had chosen to do the various jobs, and she was very pleased to see how capable they were, even if it made her realize that she was not quite as indispensable as she had presumed.

  The new stables were also progressing nicely. Mr. Griffiths was full of information about how the training of the few horses they had was advancing and how the new acquisitions they had obtained at auction were shaping up. Their equine venture had started too late in the year to have their own colts by spring, but the two pregnant mares that he had bought were doing well.

  As she was returning to Dipton Hall to change before her meeting with Lydia and her fiancée, Daphne reflected that her absence had not led to serious crises, and that everything had been going on smoothly without her every-day supervision. Maybe she should take more seriously the possibility of hiring stewards for the estates in her care. With the new baby, she really couldn’t provide the detailed oversight that she had believed to be necessary for the success of the various ventures.

  These musings turned out to be prescient. When she was alone with Lydia and Mr. Dimster, the conversation was started by Lydia.

  “Aunt Daphne, you said that I could come out of mourning. I did. I think we all will. I asked Lady Clara, and she saw no reason not to. So when can we get married?”

  “Whenever you wish. The house your uncle is providing for you and Mr. Dimster will be available on Michaelmas. But you can, of course, live here until then. The dowry is ready to be transferred when you have married, so with your father’s allowance or wage or whatever it is called, Mr. Dimster, you should be able to live comfortably.”

  “That is the one item that is in question, Lady Ashton,” intervened Mr. Dimster at this point.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s about my allowance. My father has changed his mind and will only give it to me if I become the Member of Parliament for Dipton.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to do that.”

  “I don’t, but what choice do I have?”

  “Well, I can tell you that you won’t become the Member for Dipton. Both Captain Giles and my father are agreed that it would not be suitable for you to take the seat, because of the demands your father would make of you. I don’t think, in any case, that it would be a good idea for you to be dependent on your father’s wishes, whether in connection with the Dipton seat or another. If he will cut off your allowance for not doing what he wants in this matter, he will also cancel it for disobeying him on something else. Giving in to him now means that you will have to do whatever he asks in order to make ends meet.”

  “I know, Lady Ashton, but what can I do? If I refuse, I won’t be able to afford to marry Miss Lydia. I should tell you that my father has already made arrangements to have the election writ* moved by one of his cronies tomorrow.”

  “Has he? How very inconvenient. I will have to consult with my father as to who the member should be. However, that doesn’t solve your problem, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t. I still have to choose between marrying Miss Lydia and keeping my allowance.”

  “There is another way out, you know.”

  “What is that, Lady Ashton?”

  “Why, to find work elsewhere, of course. You have been helping to manage your father’s estate have you not?”

  “Yes, but he has hired a new steward who will start at Michaelmas, and he has told me that I won’t have a position with him, or an allowance, if I won’t stand for Parliament. He really has me blocked off.”

  “I think there is at least one way to solve your problem. I need a steward. Acting as my own manager for both Dipton Hall and Dipton Manor is becoming too much for me.” Daphne unconsciously patted her tummy at that point. “You could become my steward. The salary would be more than adequate to allow you to marry even without the dowry. Which of course you will also get.”

  “Oh, thank you, Lady Ashton! Of course, I’ll take the position.”

  “Aunt Daphne, this is so kind of you,” said Lydia, coming around the table to throw her arms around her rather startled aunt.

  “Nonsense. I am not being generous. It is a genuine position, not something cooked up for Mr. Dimster. And I warn you, Mr. Dimster, I am a hard task-mistress and will be keeping an eagle eye on what you do.”

  “I am glad to hear it. I have heard of too many instances where the landowners give their stewards no directions or oversight and then blackguard them for not getting the best return or, worse still, for lining their own pockets. I don’t want anyone to think that I am in that category.”

  “It does happen, unfortunately, but not at Dipton Hall, I can assure you,” Daphne replied. “Now I imagine that you two want to set a date for the wedding and arrange to have the service conducted by Lord David. I can spare you for one week after the event to have a honeymoon, Mr. Dimster. No, let’s make it ten days. Lydia, and as a gift from your uncle, who will not be able to attend, I will give you fifty guineas to finance your going away and to help you get started in married life.”

  “Oh, Aunt Daphne. You are the very best aunt in the world!”

  Daphne laughed and waved the two lovers away. What a difference four years in age could make. Had she ever been that spontaneously enthusiastic? Up till now, the family she had acquired by marrying Richard had largely been a nuisance and an irritation, but today she had got quite a bit of satisfaction from being able to help one of them.

  Helping Lydia made Daphne think that she should look for Captain Bolton an
d at least pretend to be interested in his alleged purpose for being at Dipton. However, glancing out the window, she saw that Catherine was apparently explaining to him how the vista was being improved. She had the sketch that she had prepared to show how it would look when finished. Daphne thought it an excellent way of conveying not merely the rigid plans but for endowing the scene with a sense of what it would look like and what one might feel looking at it. Her interrupting them to talk about paintings, she was sure, would not be appreciated. Instead, she went to see Lord David in his vicarage.

  As always, he was welcoming. Somewhat to her surprise she found herself telling him not only about her adventures on Glaucus but also about the problems associated with the house on Arlington Street.

  “I always knew that Ashton was a rotter,” he declared when Daphne had outlined her problems, “but nothing like this. We will just have to find a way out of it.”

  “I don’t see how. It’s not the money, though that is not inconsiderable. It is just that I hate being bilked by these horrible people.”

  “I agree. I really wasn’t fully aware about what sorts of things happened in London. They are awful and you and Richard shouldn’t be caught up in them. Now let me study the documents. I am not a lawyer, but quite a few of my acquaintances have followed that vocation, and they have always told me that the details are what matter and that a lot of solicitors are far from being careful enough in drawing up papers, especially when they think that no one will examine them carefully. I am thinking about this solicitor that Mr. Edwards consulted and, you are sure, drew up the documents. That strikes me as being sufficiently unethical that it should land him in a great deal of trouble if it were to be exposed. I also think that a man who behaves in that way is likely to be lazy as well as unscrupulous. It is possible, indeed likely, that, being lazy, he has allowed some weaknesses that we can take advantage of.”

  “We?”

  “Of course ‘we’. Ashton may have stuck Richard with the problem, but it is a family disgrace and I am bound to try to help overcome it with you.”

  “Oh, David! That is very good of you and it helps so much being able to tell someone about our problems. It is so shameful! I haven’t even told Mr. Edwards what it is really.”

  “Just leave the documents with me and I will see if I can think of anything.”

  Daphne’s next stop was her father’s home. She wanted to see him to tell him all about her adventures, though she did not expect him to be of much help with her dilemma. Thinking it over, she thought she would avoid altogether telling him about it. She rather thought that he had no idea about the debauched life of some quite respectable-seeming men. He would certainly be horrified to learn that she was now all too well aware of the nefarious dealings that accompanied such activities. He rather liked the Countess and might see her as being tarred with the same brush and that could spoil their friendship. Daphne, however, did need to discuss with her father Mr. Dimster’s mention that Sir Thomas Dimster had arranged for the by-election for the Dipton seat in Parliament since the election could be controlled by her father and herself.

  Father and daughter settled down comfortably in front of a blazing fire in the parlor of Dipton Manor, with tea and toasted crumpets. Mr. Moorhouse listened with fascination to Daphne’s account of her adventures. He was greatly concerned to learn that she had been in a battle, though he resisted remonstrating with her about the dangers of sailing in a warship in time of war. He knew that, if the opportunity arose again, she would take it without concern for or even remembering her pregnancy. She did avoid telling him about the house in Arlington Street or about how she had come to bring a dairymaid to Dipton. In the latter case, she suspected that her father guessed the essence of the situation and had no wish to know the details.

  They then turned to the matter of the by-election. The MP should be someone with direct involvement in the riding. A variety of names was considered, but they all were unsuitable for political reasons or for personal ones or they had already firmly indicated that they were not interested.

  “The best person would be Richard,” Mr. Moorhouse remarked, “except he can’t run.”

  “Why do you say that father? We talked about it earlier and he was very reluctant to stand for the riding, but maybe when it is pointed out that we have no candidate he might change his mind. However, I most certainly would prefer him not to be elected. I suppose that we could get Sir David McDougall to suggest someone. I suspect that he has the names of many people who are looking for a seat.”

  “Probably, Daphne, but I would not be happy about it. I think members of Parliament should know their ridings, and I am not convinced that a party-man is what we need.”

  “Well, we have to find someone, or stay out of it and allow whoever Mr. Dimster puts up to take the seat.”

  “You know, Daphne, I really think that we have overlooked the best candidate.”

  “Who is that?”

  “Your brother-in-law, Lord David.”

  “Lord David? But doesn’t he have duties here that would prevent him serving?”

  “He could get a curate. I agree, he is a very good vicar, young though he is. Parliament doesn’t meet all that often, and the lack of a member has not troubled us so far. If he attended some sessions, especially where important matters are being considered, it would be a contribution. You know that his mother wants him to become a bishop, and I am sure that he would be a very good one. Being an MP would be a good introduction to the fiercely political nature of being a bishop.”

  “If he will do it, I think he should, though he does add a great deal to the parish – and our society.”

  “He won’t be gone that much, I imagine. Unless he becomes a member of the government, of course. I’ll ask him, if you would like.”

  “Yes, that would be good. I confess that I don’t really understand why the two of us can determine who the MP will be.”

  “Technically, we do not. In this borough – it is ridiculous for Dipton to be a borough while Ameschester is not, but that is the way it goes -- in this ‘borough’, there is a very limited number of electors. I don’t really know how they are selected but I think the list consists of the gentlemen who reside here and the wealthier of the tenant farmers. I think it depends on who pays taxes or how much they pay. Since the tenants are the largest group, apart from laborers, and most of those who qualify hold their leases from me or from Richard, they will vote as we suggest. In the past, old Gramley and his friends had an automatic majority so he was nominated and no one else stood. Now we can control the election in the same way.”

  “It all seems very odd to me. Will Richard become a member of Parliament automatically when his father dies?”

  “Well, in a way. He will be a member of the House of Lords automatically.”

  Daphne left still feeling that she didn’t really understand all the various ways men could enter Parliament. She realized that in one respect it did not matter. She could never become a Member or have to worry about for whom to vote. She already had enough choices to make without bothering about that. She did realize that she and Giles would have to make some decisions about his attendance in the House of Lords when the time came. Would they need a London house? But this was taking her jumps before they even came in sight.

  She arrived at Dipton Hall to find Lydia and Mr. Dimster very perturbed.

  “Aunt Daphne, something terrible has happened,” her niece broke out as soon as she entered the small drawing room.

  “What is it, Lydia?”

  “Thomas couldn’t wait to go home and tell his family that everything was ready and all we had to do was decide on the date of the wedding. He thought they might have some opinions on who should be invited and so on and when it might be held.”

  “Yes, that sounds sensible. So, what is so terrible?”

  “He told his father that he would not be standing to become MP for Dipton and that he was not going into Parliament at all. Before he had a chance to g
ive his reasons and how he would support himself, Sir Thomas flew into a rage. Called Thomas an unprincipled weakling who had taken money from his father and was not ready to repay it properly. He would find someone else for the seat. He was cutting off Thomas’s allowance immediately. He also forbad Lady Dimster and his daughters to attend our wedding. He announced that he was disinheriting Thomas and told him to leave the house and never return, unless he gave up his position with you and did what he was told.”

  “Well, first things first,” announced Daphne. “Mr. Dimster, you are welcome to stay with my father at Dipton Manor until the marriage. It would not be seemly for you to stay here. Captain Bolton is also staying with my father. You can start your position as my steward as soon as you like.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Certainly. Now, have you decided on a date for your wedding?”

  “Can we have it the day after tomorrow?” asked Lydia. “Mr. Dimster’s family are not going to attend and all of mine are already here.”

  “Is that wise? Do you think that your brother won’t attend, Mr. Dimster?”

  “No, I think he will want to come. He is in London, of course, but he has crossed swords with my father already and is independent. I would like him to stand up with me.”

  “I think, Lydia, that you should wait a couple of weeks. You are going to continue to live in Dipton and you know many people here, even if you do not know them very well. One way to get them to accept you into the community more quickly is to invite them to your wedding. And it will take a few days to get the invitations out and for people to respond.”

  “But, Aunt Daphne, we don’t have any money for invitations or for a wedding breakfast.”

  “Don’t worry, Lydia. Captain Giles has already decided that he will pay for all that. You should talk with your mother, of course, first. I don’t know much about the proper form for an invitation, but I am sure that Lady Camshire knows how everything should be done, and can help you draw up a list. I think you will want to invite all the gentry in the immediate area and, Mr. Dimster, there is no reason not to ask people near your father’s estate. After all, some day you will inherit his title and estate if it is entailed. You could get the invitations out quickly if you take the wording for the invitations to the printer in Ameschester tomorrow. If you think about it, you will realize that you don’t want to rush your wedding too much. You will have only one wedding in your life and you want to make the most of it. Furthermore, you don’t want people thinking that you have reason to rush into marriage.