A War by Diplomacy

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A War by Diplomacy Page 27

by John G. Cragg


  “What have we here, Mr. Hendricks?” Giles inquired.

  “This man seems to be the master of the schooner, sir, which is called the Françoise Marie. He has a French letter of marque, so she is a privateer. Mr. Macauley has secured the other officers and crew of the schooner. I have left Mr. Miller in charge. We have freed the three ships which were all captured by this ruffian. Two English vessels and one from the United States. Their captains will come on board as soon as they have raised their anchors. The Françoise Marie was on a buoy so we could get underway much faster.”

  Before long, the three merchant ships came out of the bay and hove to near Glaucus. Their captains came over to frigate. The first to arrive was the captain of the ship that had been snatched from right before the eyes of the other vessels that had been sailing together. He was genuinely grateful for having his ship returned to him. The second was the captain of a British vessel which had been captured earlier.

  An American captain was the third ship’s master. He named himself Nathanial Scrubbs. He drawled in the soft southern manner as he expressed great thanks for being rescued. He had loaded a cargo of hemp and sail-linen in Kronstadt for transportation to Charleston, South Carolina, which was also his homeport. He thought that he would have no trouble as a neutral vessel sailing to a neutral port. That had not been the case. The commander of the French schooner had paid no attention to his loud protests about his ship being captured. He didn’t seem to care that the American captain was pointing out that he was quite clearly sailing to a neutral port in a vessel that was American.

  The privateer had not impressed by his arguments. “You say you are American, and not part of England. That is nonsense. You come from a place called Charleston in somewhere called South Carolina. The first name clearly is in honor of King Charles of England. The second must honor some English queen. That cannot be a part of America. Their revolutionaries would have changed the name.”

  “His argument was nonsense. I have documents from the United States government that state that South Carolina is a state of the union, but he paid no attention,” stated the American captain.

  “You were quite correct in what you asserted,” Giles agreed. “The privateer had no business taking your ship. He is nothing but a pirate. I will take him to England with me where I expect that he will hang. I will need a full statement from you, please.”

  The ships all got underway again, sailing together. Giles was very happy with this accomplishment. He had been wondering whether his visit to St. Petersburg had really been worth the time and effort. Surely it could have been done just as well without the charade of the special ambassador, and he wasn’t sure how necessary was his own part to keep the Russian navy sympathetic to Great Britain, This recent action had been worthwhile. England needed the supplies which otherwise would have fallen to Bonaparte.

  That night, Giles thought contentedly about how he should describe the action in his continuing letter to Daphne. He would tell her in detail of his accomplishment, but he had to be careful not to sound pompous or too boastful. He always found it difficult to describe success, but he knew that she would want to know every detail. He wondered if all the letters he had been writing to his wife on this trip would have to be delivered in person when he got home. So far, there had been no opportunity to send mail and he himself might now be the best messenger. He had no wish to delay so that the mail could be delivered first.

  Chapter XXII

  Daphne realized, after the excitement of the election had passed, that she was recovered from giving birth. At least, she was happy to resume her usual routines. She found that she had added two new ones to the list. The new mother enjoyed holding Bernard and watching Nancy feed him. She made sure to allocate several periods a day to this pleasure.

  What Daphne found tiresome was a ritual that followed the birth of a baby to a prominent family. Until she began to experience the custom, Daphne had not been fully aware of it. No one had ever suggested to her that she participate in it when she was just Miss Moorhouse, and somehow no one had told her about it after she married. The custom was for the ladies of good breeding to visit a new mother of their own elevated status to coo over the new child and gossip about other families of the same class. In the course of the gossip that inevitably accompanied such visits, Daphne learned that the Dipton election had split the community of would-be society leaders. Many thought that it was awful that Sir Thomas Dimster had even been charged with treason and faced the possibility of being executed. They thought that his actions were shrewd tactics of business and it emerged that this group thought that Daphne had simply outmaneuvered him in a rather clumsy way, one not suitable for the wife of a leading member of the aristocracy. Others thought that Sir Thomas’s trying to take the election away from Lord David in favor of a lackey to serve his own ends was deplorable. In their opinion, he deserved to be punished severely, largely because it was so clearly not respectful of the Viscount who, due to his superior status in society, should naturally determine the outcome of the election. Furthermore, social precedence aside, many of those who supported Daphne argued that in buying Dipton Hall Giles had also purchased the seat in Parliament that went with it. Sir Thomas was regarded by them as trying to steal something that belonged to Daphne’s husband. The punishment, however, seemed to all the local gentry to be excessive.

  The taking of sides over the secondary outcome of the election soon came closer to home. Thomas Dimster, although he was the oldest son of Sir Thomas Dimster, held firmly that his father was only getting what he well deserved. His wife, Lydia, Daphne’s half sister-in-law, was quite of the opposite opinion. She thought it was terrible that the Dimster family should be pilloried because of a reasonable and shrewd move to enhance their influence. It was quite clear that she did not want to have her husband’s eventual baronetcy tarnished by scandal, or impoverished by the heavy fine that was widely believed to be necessary if Sir Thomas was to avoid the noose or banishment to the penal colonies of Australia.

  Daphne had heard hints from her visitors that many thought she had outmaneuvered Sir Thomas simply to gain the influence that Sir Thomas had expected to get from having an MP in his pocket. The baronet somehow thought that he deserved to get this advantage now that he could no longer act through Mr. Gramley, the former MP. Mr. Gramley’s own seat had been the subject of the election. However, Sir Thomas’s expectations from electing his man had gone farther than just swaying the MP in his own interest. Major Stoner, in his blunt way, had laid Sir Thomas’s scheme out for Daphne one day when she had invited him to dinner in the hopes of furthering the romance with Lady Marianne.

  “You certainly outfoxed that maggot, Sir Thomas Dimster, Lady Ashton,” the Major declared. “The scoundrel feels that you have deliberately done him in. Apparently, he had had a good business going selling the influence of a member of parliament, namely Mr. Charles Gramley, to the highest bidder. He seems to think that it was his prerogative, by right of having done it in the past, to arrange things for a fee. He presumes that you will do the same thing using Lord David. Just shows how little he knows about you or the vicar. Can you believe it? He is even threatening to get back at you somehow for stealing his income. Never heard of such a thing! I don’t know the ins and outs of the matter, but everyone is astonished how you got the better of the old scoundrel. Awful man! Disgrace to the nobility!

  “Do you know,” Major Stoner continued, “that that Dimster fella has been truly gleeful about not being in gaol? The judge from London somehow didn’t realize that he would be committed for trial by our own magistrates and the other magistrates are all in Sir Thomas’s pocket. As a result, they let him go off ‘on his own recognizance’ until the trial at the assizes. Can you believe it?”

  “Is Sir Thomas still a magistrate?” asked Daphne.

  “Yes, he is. Or so he thinks, anyway,” replied Major Stoner. “He has also boasted that if any of your tenants or workers appear before him, he will have the book thrown at th
em. I think he is just hoping for a chance to get back at you and show that you cannot intervene in his plans without paying a serious price.”

  “I don’t see how he can do that.” Daphne replied. “I don’t have any business connections with him.”

  The conversation drifted off to other topics and Daphne thought no more of Sir Thomas and his threats. Even when Major Stoner asked if he could call on her the next day, she presumed, correctly, that his request had nothing to do with the machinations of Sir Thomas Dimster.

  The conversation that ensued when Mr. Stoner was announced into her writing room next morning struck her as being very peculiar at the beginning. The Major started by stuttering a bit before getting down to any sort of coherent statements.

  “You wanted to see me about something, Major Stoner?” Daphne interrupted a particularly convoluted sentence by the Major that was not getting to any point.

  “Quite… Yes, Lady Ashton…Yes, of course…It’s about … It’s about the Hunt.” The look of relief on the Major’s face made Daphne suspect that this was not at all what the man had come about but instead was a topic that did provide a convenient diversion while he worked up courage to broach the real subject of his visit.

  “Yes, Major? As you know, I have already agreed to have the Hunt Ball at the end of the season and to host a meeting of the Hunt itself.”

  “Yes, indeed, Lady Ashton. Very generous! Very generous, indeed! We are so lucky to have you! So lucky! ... But it is not about that that I wanted to talk to you. No, not at all. Not at all… It is, of course, very good that you support the Hunt with such generosity. Very good… ”

  The Major seemed about to get lost again in his convoluted speech without coming to the point.

  “You had something more about the Hunt?” Daphne intervened.

  “Yes, yes ... the Hunt … yes, actually it’s about the hounds.”

  “The hounds?”

  “Yes. You see, old Colonel Redfern has been Master of the Hounds for years and years. Very good man, the colonel, though actually Charlie Maddox is the real master and trains the dogs. Excellent fellow, Charlie Maddox, excellent! We … the Hunt, that is ,,, we pay Colonel Redfern quite a large sum of money for housing the hounds, but it has been worth every penny. Best pack of hounds for miles around. Best pack! Without them, we wouldn’t have such a pukka hunt. I suppose that I shouldn’t say ‘pukka’. Indian expression it is. Means very fine, just right, and… Anyway, no, we wouldn’t have such good hunting. Certainly not. Couldn’t do without Charlie, wouldn’t be the same at all…”

  Major Stoner seemed in danger of again getting lost, this time in the excellence of the hounds, and Daphne was afraid that he would not find a way out of this maze either. The Major wasn’t usually this vague. There must be something else on his mind, Daphne thought, and began to suspect what it was.

  “So there is a problem with where the hounds can be kept, is there, Major?”

  “Yes, indeed, Lady Ashton. That is the nub of the matter.”

  “And?”

  “Well, Mr. Summers has been wringing his hands about it. He can think of no solution if Colonel Redfern really can’t keep the hounds. I suggested that you be approached. That is, of course, that Captain Giles might be, but he is always away, and everyone knows you manage the estate when he is away. But Mr. Summers didn’t like to ask … Good chap, Summers! Good chap! But not always straightforward. He thought that he couldn’t just approach you and no one knows when Captain Giles will return. And the Captain wouldn’t have time probably to consider it before he was called away again. And anyway, why should he take it on when he is away for most of our meetings? Very delicate feelings has Mr. Summers. Wouldn’t have done very well in India, I can assure you. Not a man for the John Company*. No, he wouldn’t have done well out there, not well at all, I can assure you.”

  The Major was again losing the thread of his argument, so Daphne once more intervened to move him along, “So you were wondering if we would take on the hounds?”

  “Yes, my lady. That’s it exactly. Exactly! Summers didn’t like to ask you, so I thought I would sound you out on my own. We all know that Captain Giles wouldn’t take it on without consulting you first. Lucky man your husband, very lucky! Unusual arrangement you seem to have. Wouldn’t work for most people! Actually a bit shocking, but it seems to suit very well in your case.”

  Daphne had to intervene again, before the old curmudgeon reappeared who had a very low opinion of women’s abilities. That had been the man whom she had first encountered on being introduced to Major Stoner. He had originally indicated to her quite clearly that having women riding to hounds was not at all appropriate. To give him credit, he had abandoned that opinion, at least in her own case, when she had demonstrated that she was a better rider than most of the existing members of the hunt. But his basic beliefs in the capabilities of women always threatened to emerge if they were not suppressed by his being diverted to a less offensive subject. Daphne was now quite fond of the Major and had learned how to steer him away from his most obnoxious comments.

  “Well, I’ll have to consider it, Major. Of course, it will be Captain Giles’s decision completely. I will just do a bit of scouting out so that my husband can act more quickly when he returns. You can tell Mr. Summers that it was I who raised the possibility of moving the hounds to Dipton Hall when you told me about the problems with Colonel Redfern. It is really what happened.”

  “That is very good of you, my lady. Weight off my mind, I can tell you.”

  “Surely the subject of the hounds was not the only reason you seemed so eager to see me this morning, Major.”

  “Well, ugh, well … no, it really isn’t. I did want to sound you out about something else as well. Yes, something more personal, delicate really. No, thinking it over I realize that I shouldn’t bother you with this matter. Not suitable. But still, I would like to raise it with you.”

  “Oh, spit it out, Major, spit it out! Don’t beat about the bush. Better to be straightforward.” Major Stoner’s manner of speaking seemed to be catching. “I am not some delicate flower that needs to be protected from every change of weather. No, I am really quite robust.” Daphne was starting to lose patience with the Major’s fumbling around every topic.

  “It’s nothing like that. Lady Marianne…”

  “Yes?”

  “Well her daughters now have very good futures. Miss Lydia with Mr. Dimster and Miss Crocker with Captain Bolter …”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, neither of her daughters will be in a good position to give her a home and I know she feels that she would be a burden for them.”

  “I suppose that might be the case, Major Stoner. Lady Marianne is, of course, welcome to continue to reside at Dipton Hall.” This was not exactly true. Daphne had never warmed to her half sister-in-law and would be more than happy to see her leave.

  “Well, you see, Lady Ashton, especially in view of Captain Giles’s absence, don’t you know, that I think … I should talk to you … yes, definitely talk to you…about Lady Marianne,” Major Stoner blurted out the lady’s name in his final breath before his face turned an even more violent shade of red, even purple. Surely he wasn’t about to suffer apoplexy from talking about Lady Marianne.

  “About Lady Marianne, Major?”

  “Yes… yes…yes! I want to marry her… There, I’ve actually said it! ... I know that her two daughters had to get Captain Giles’s permission to wed and I presume that it is the same with Lady Marianne.”

  “Good heavens, no. Major Stoner.” Of all the things that might be on Major Stoner’s mind, Daphne would never have guessed that he thought he had to ask Giles’s permission to marry or that he would think that Daphne could stand in as a substitute for her husband. It must, indeed, have been very difficult for him to raise the subject with her, given his general opinion of women’s place in the order of things.

  “Lady Marianne needs no one’s consent to marry,” Daphne continued. “The si
tuation of her under-age daughters was quite different. They were legally Captain Giles’s wards. But Lady Marianne can make up her own mind. It must be different in India, maybe that is where you got the idea that mature women need a man’s permission to do anything, but that is certainly not the case in England.”

  Daphne’s statement, she knew, only applied to unmarried women, and only partially even then, but there was no point to go into the finer details of women’s status. In Lady Marianne’s case, maybe he was right that she needed to be guided by a man, even if it was not the law. Her half sister-in-law hadn’t done very well on her own.

  “Yes, I see,” said the Major, rather taken aback by Daphne’s certitude about the matter. The Major was becoming used to Daphne having a mind of her own and her willingness to express it in words and deeds, whatever convention might dictate. For a man who had been horrified about the idea of ladies really joining the hunt, he had come a long way. He had been won over to Daphne’s position by her actions and her grace, but she wasn’t sure whether he was not just making a single exception for her. Still, if he could implicitly admit that mistake, he might be able to make many other changes to fit better into modern English society. It would certainly strengthen the chances of a happy marriage if Lady Marianne should accept him.

  “Do you think she might be interested in marrying me?” Major Stoner blurted out.

  “Of course,” thought Daphne. “The possibility of rejection when he was trying so hard to fit into society must be troubling him.” She was almost inclined to give him a hug and tell him what he wanted to hear, though the first gesture would have terrified the poor man completely. So what she did say was, “You will have to ask her yourself.”

  “I could offer her a lot, you know,” Major Stoner continued. “I made a great deal of money in India, great deal. I have a really pukka estate here, really pukka. I know I am a diamond in the rough, or maybe I should admit to being a rough piece of quartz at best. Lady Marianne can smooth some of my rough edges off, I am sure, and make me more acceptable to society. She does have a suitably energetic side to her. That’s not why I want her, of course. I think that for the first time in my life I am in love, can you believe it? But I am a bit too blunt for most people. I know it. In fact, yours is the only major house in the area to which I am welcomed as more than an appendage of Mr. Summers. Lady Marianne knows about how I have noticed these things and thinks that I can change and be more acceptable. You see, I have talked to her about my problem in getting accepted, but not about us getting married.”

 

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