“I hope so too. It served van Aa well before. The French seem to have forgotten any need for their security―which suggests to me that the invasion is coming nigh.”
“Is it, by damn?”
“van Aa reports to me that Napoleon’s Old Guard makes preparations to move from Antwerp, and that they do not send out advance parties by road. There were no less than five pyroscaphes in the estuary two days back, pulling their barges and practising manoeuvres. There were full complements aboard the craft, infantry, cavalry, and some field guns.” Holmes took a swig of the wine and smiled ruefully. “I stood on the headland with my mouth agape for an hour before they began to turn back east. I thought for all that time the invasion had started.
“I have heard from van Aa that the French ironclad is now moored in the river. Its boiler problems must have been corrected as it has steamed about several times. I expect to see it any day off Neuzen.”
“You sent that message already?”
“That I did, but you might repeat it. I have had no return confirmation from my friends on Walcheren.”
“I must tell you that Their Lordships at the Admiralty will be withdrawing the spitefuls from this side of the channel soon. Farley in the Regent might be the last you see until the French make their move.”
Holmes set his glass of wine down, spilling some on the table. “Withdrawing them? What on earth for?”
“Two reasons. The admirals commanding the blockade ships that will meet the French invasion want to keep the steamships where they might defend the likely invasion beaches.”
“Hmm. A very cautious plan,” Holmes said. “Too cautious.”
“Yes, I believe the First Lord agrees. But if carried out it might make the French believe they have the Channel to themselves. The sail blockades will be stationed farther out at sea for their better security.”
“I see. We have had no luck trying to find a copy of Napoleon’s order to the army. Some believe he has sent an instruction that states the final date for preparations.”
Worthington laughed gently. “It would seem from all you are reporting that it must be a date in this July. Do we need to know his intention in any greater detail?”
Holmes shook his head. “Perhaps not. Am I to stay once the invasion starts off or will I have a passage to England before the navy quits this part of the Channel?”
“You must stay.” Worthington gave him a sympathetic grin. “I was told that you know about the spy in the Admiralty.”
“Yes, we caught a Hanoverian called Gottlieb who was relaying his reports. What of him?”
“Well, apparently he is active again, but this time his reports are dictated by us. He will be reporting the withdrawal of the spitefuls as a last ditch defence in the face of the invasion. Their Lordships require you and van Aa to repeat the news—there is a copy in the orders I have for you—the more sources, the more certainly the French will believe the navy is in desperate straits.”
“Yes, of course.”
“There will be one squadron testing the French readiness in the Westerschelde. The Laird’s HMS Ironside and accompanying vessels will venture a foray by daylight. That will be the last steamship you will see from England.”
Holmes shook his head. “They are ordered to fight?”
“If challenged, but the demonstration is intended to convince the French that their steamships are masters of the sea.”
“I see. Then the plan my brother advocated is adopted?”
“I do not know if it is Lord Bond’s plan. He was in St. Petersburg with the Russian Court we hear, but the expectation is that the Allied armies will cross the French frontier as soon as Napoleon has committed his troops to the Channel.”
“What of Lady Bond? Do you know if she has made the enquiries into Chaplain Jenkins I advised?”
“She has not mentioned such to me. The Antiochus is at Chatham being completed in the docks at Gillingham. Their Lordships required her to bring the ship south uncompleted for some political stratagem with the representatives of the allied armies. We put on a show for them four days ago.”
“If you see her when you return, you must tell her I am most anxious she learns the young Chaplain’s secret. I feel sure it will finish the marriage at last and set her free.”
“Free, my friend? Has the Marquess annulled her marriage or not? She have been very cordial to me, but surely the poor girl have earned yon title with all she have gone through.”
“Title? She wants all that to end. Surely you know she wishes to be free so she may make a marriage of her own free will and liking. Lord Bond is a rake and always will be. The Marquess is her sworn enemy.”
Worthington’s face grew red, and he seemed completely confused. “Marriage to her liking? I dinna ken. Free to wed who, Sir?”
“You, you great chump! Who else? Is that not as obvious as the nose upon your face? Do not disappoint her, man,” Holmes said with a catch in his throat. “I insist on being grooms-man at your wedding.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Roberta Travels
Roberta’s efforts to finish the Antiochus progressed, but she had to admit that it was many weeks from going to sea because of a lack of machine shops here capable of supplying the builders of steam plant. There were far fewer such premises along the banks of the river Thames than there were on the Clyde.
She even had time to read her husband’s latest letter as soon as it was handed to her. This one was post marked Vienna.
My darling Wife:
You will see that I have almost completed a circular tour of the continent and have returned to the place where I penned the letter expecting to soon be with you. I had avoided telling you about our departure from Bern under a cloud, as far as the Swiss were concerned, in that letter. Elise was confronted by an enemy agent just before we departed and had to kill him to save her own life.
Roberta stopped reading with a gasp, but quickly resumed.
Paine and I were within earshot and whisked her away before the city’s watchmen arrived. My first duty was to the business we had been engaged with and so I prevailed upon Paine to take her with him on his American passport―the legitimate one of course.
When we arrived in Vienna this time, I found Lord Aberdeen, our ambassador, waiting to interrogate me with the details and complaints of the American Ambassador in Paris, who had sent him a long diatribe over the matter. The Swiss had learned where Elise had gone and wanted the French to send her back for trial.
To make a long story shorter, it turns out that she has gone with Paine to America and they travel as husband and wife. I find it intensely amusing that the two of them shall be committing bigamy together―since neither has any hope of divorcing their legitimate spouses.
Roberta stopped reading again, but this was to give her time to envy them both and wish that she might solve her problem as easily.
Lord Aberdeen and I are putting together a document that will remove any complicity in the affair on the part of the Crown and its agents and suggested that the Swiss look for Madame Timmins in Amsterdam or Sumatra. The rest of the news from Vienna is as entertaining. I spoke with Marshal Schwarzenberg about the organisation of the armies since he is the senior commander over the allies. He is as concerned about having the three monarchs at his headquarters as I reported when I wrote from St. Petersburg and assures me that he will handle any contact with Napoleon with due caution, since he is the commander who could lose the war with the very first setback. He also has his Emperor’s family to cater to, since Napoleon’s current Empress is the Emperor Francis’ daughter, and the word in Austria is to curtail the French adventurism rather than hang Napoleon on sight as the Prussians are planning. This campaign promises to be the show of the century, and I would not miss it for the world.
Roberta read this last several times. Did this mean that he would not return to Britain until the war was over?
That week she also received a laboriously penned letter from her Aunt Nelly, made all th
e more difficult to understand because that lady had never had the opportunity to learn her letters as a child. The meaning was clear enough though.
Yer Father have not been well fer many days, Lassie, but he will never give up gannin to they shipyards to see all be in order even tho he should better be in his bed under care of his doctor. I fear we may lose him if ye canna come to Clyde and see to work and to make him abide in his bed until he be fit to get up. I do all I can and make him eat brawn and have lots of norishen soups, but he grumbles an fights me all the way.
She could not think how she could spare the time to even take the train to Scotland, let alone spend the time there to take the load from his shoulders. Elizabeth offered to take her place at Chatham, but although she was an excellent engine and boiler supervisor, she was not able to solve all the day to day problems with the shipbuilding.
Every day came a different inevitable interruption to her work, and today as she worried about her father, the two Thames-built spitefuls steamed down the river for acceptance trials and an appropriate ceremony for the hand-over of the ships to their naval crews. She was expected to be on the review stand with the dockyard officials.
When she went aboard the Thames Graving and Shipbuilding Company’s vessel—Charley Napier’s contract—she found the differences interesting. He was present for the ceremonies and took pride in showing her about but the biggest change she found to be the armament of two 18 pounder cannons in the bow instead of the Congreve rockets. She observed the guns but could not find it in her to question the Londoners’ designs.
Charley must have seen her mind was elsewhere. “What ails you, My Lady? Your face is as long as an undertaker’s tailcoat.”
Roberta looked at him in surprise. “I must apologise, Sir. I did not mean to inflict my concerns onto you.”
“Perhaps not, but if someone could help take a share of the burden, I’m your man. I have had a fine time working with you these past months and would gladly do so again at any time.”
Roberta smiled and formed the words to dismiss her worries from her mind, but something in the concern she read in his eyes stopped her. “My father has responsibility for completing three more vessels on the Clyde, and my aunt tells me I must come home because he is ill and will not stop to rest.”
Charley shook his head. “Aye, a fault many of us is burdened with. But what keeps you here?”
“The Antiochus is under construction in the dock at Gillingham, and I have no one who could take my place.”
He regarded her with a keen eye. “Well, it so happens that I have no work planned for a week or two. I have loaned all my workmen to Maudsleys and my slips are empty. Why don’t we go over to Gillingham and you show me what needs to be done.”
They found Elizabeth Grandin supervising the installation of the engine-room voice pipes when they arrived and so both escorted him around the partly finished ship. He asked questions about everything as they progressed, and Roberta could see that he was not at ease. At length, he stopped and leaned on his cane. “I see that this vessel is a lot more than a larger spiteful. Almost all your building practices has changed in the past year.”
“Do you feel unable to assist us then, Sir?”
“I feel I would be much better employed to assist your father with the spitefuls. Can ye get no time away from here?”
Roberta looked toward Elizabeth. “I might be away a few days if we transfer most of the work into completing the accommodation deck. What do you think, Liz?”
“I can look after that for a week. Long enough for you to take the train with Charley and show him around the yards building the spitefuls.”
Charley smiled. “I think that would be best . . . and I have a chance to visit Scotland.”
Two days later they took a carriage from the lower station at Glasgow to the Stephenson mansion and found Roberta’s father in a downstairs reception room with Doctor McCall. “Your Father must rest, My Lady.”
“I came here with the express purpose of accomplishing that, Sir. This is Mr. Napier, Father, who built one of our spitefuls on the Thames. He has come to take the bulk of the supervision from your shoulders.”
Charley reached out a hand. “It’s Charley Napier. Charley to everyone.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Charley. I’m George.”
Roberta had been gone from Chatham a week when she took the train back to London. Her father’s health had improved with a few days’ rest, and with several intractable problems of ship construction settled with Charley’s help before she left. “I do not see the urgency we had before, Father,” she had told him. “None of our spitefuls under construction can take to sea before Napoleon’s invasion fleet sets out.”
“Aye Lassie, but what happens to our payment in that case?”
“Antiochus is the nearest to completion, and Elizabeth’s letter told us that she had been making fine progress this week. The Navy has been sending drafts of men for the crew all week. If we have it accepted in time to participate in the defence of Britain, then we will be paid without a deduction for late delivery . . . and may wait easier until the fates of the last three spitefuls are settled.”
So she mulled over her course all the while the train steamed toward Newark on Trent, and by the time she arrived she had decided to break her journey and follow Mr. Holmes’ advice. She would pay a visit to Chaplain Jenkins’ father.
She hired a brougham with a matched pair of horses. It may have seemed extravagant but Caunton was six miles from Newark and the extra haste could see her on another train to London before night.
The lady who opened the parsonage door to her seemed surprised at their visitor.
“I hate to bother the Vicar when he is in his study, My Lady, but I will inform him you are here.”
The Reverend Edmund Jenkins, Vicar of St Andrews parish church, seemed entirely different in build and manner than his late son. He was much jollier looking, with a rounded belly and florid face. As soon as she was admitted to the study, he had a chair brought for her and poured them both a glass of sherry.
He sat amazed at her account of her leaving the train at Newark to hire a carriage to come to see him. “What great concern must have impelled you to visit me, My Lady? We are not acquainted, in my understanding.”
She told him the Master of Medusa’s account of the death of his son, and all the reports of his great comfort to the crew and his noble end while attempting to carry a wounded seaman below. The Vicar listened silently, although he was obliged to reach for a handkerchief to wipe his eyes.
“I thank you for your words, My Lady, my gratitude overflows. But I am still not sure what has prompted you to bring them to me.”
Roberta explained the circumstances of her advice from Mr. Holmes that had prompted her visit.
“My son, Miles, married you and Lord Bond aboard the Medusa―at sea, no less―and now has had his personal papers thrown into the sea . . . No doubt . . . I do not doubt it.”
She looked at him expectantly, but he seemed in no hurry to continue. “There is a mystery there, Mr. Holmes tells me, and I am sure it concerns my marriage to His Lordship.”
Reverend Jenkins emerged from his reverie and looked at her. “Yes. I am sure. It means that Miles’ secret must be revealed, no matter how much he tried to hide it.
“It all started with the modest bequest he received in his mother’s will when she passed away. He and I were often quarrelling and he decided, at the age of fourteen, no less, to go to Oxford and read theology. We did not see eye to eye in certain aspects of the Gospels, you see.” He paused to wipe an eye once more. “Of course, the Master at Oxford whose acceptance he had counted upon thought him too young for the Proctors to admit as student. His answer to that was sheer larceny.
“I have a cousin Edward Jenkins who lives in the parish of Eakring St Andrew also in the county of Nottingham. Edward had a son, also named Miles, who unfortunately passed away some years earlier at a young age. My son found some
dishonest solicitor, who, for a sum of money, was willing to go to Eakring and gather false information on the cousins. My son Miles, to all intents and purposes, from then on appeared to be his dead cousin. My Miles was years younger than his records indicated. He should not have been given the post upon Medusa―he should not have agreed to marry you and Lord Bond. Only an ordained priest of more than four and twenty years of age may conduct a marriage ceremony, and Miles was only twenty-one when he died.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Troubles and Disasters
Symington Holmes found it necessary to move his location from Neuzen to a fisherman’s cottage on the headland, low as it was, at the mouth of the Westerschelde near Breskens. Most of the critical action seemed more likely to be observed from his new vantage point. He could still pass his messages to the Dutch on Walcheren by the ferry to Flushing.
The amount of military patrolling seemed less every day, and he found none of the patrols showed interest in him if he took an easel and paints to the shore and made daubs of seagulls or driftwood on the beach. Surely not all these soldiers were earmarked for the invasion; some of them could barely lift a musket taller than themselves, but no doubt they took their chances to slack off while the senior officers were busy elsewhere.
This was his experience today, the morning of the second of July, until he noticed a steamship in the distance apparently intending to enter the Westerschelde. He had a spyglass with him but a small group of soldiers sitting smoking on some broken timbers of a wreck nearby meant it would be too dangerous to use it. The vessel did not look like a spiteful even to the naked eye, and it was even less like the pyroscaphes and the French ironclad.
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