“As I feared,” said Mr. Hughes. “A couple of more rounds and the carriage would fall apart, and one could only guess what would happen to the gun.”
“Mr. Evans,” said Giles, “What do you think can be done about this? Can you repair it?”
The carpenter carefully examined the carriage and even slid an awl into the crack to evaluate how serious was the damage. “It won’t take more than one or two more discharges before the carriage breaks in two, sir,” he reported.
“Can you fix it?”
“We could put a couple of braces on each side to take some of the strain. It might work. But what we really need are new carriages for the guns, sir.”
“Go ahead and try it. When you finish, have the gun fired a couple of times so we know whether the repair is satisfactory. In the meantime, Mr. Kirkpatrick, continue to examine the guns, carefully if you please, and practice mock-firing them.”
Giles returned to the quarter deck where Mr. Brooks was continuing his evaluation of sail combinations. But before long, they felt that they had learned all they could that day. The drill of mock-firing the guns was also soon completed, with several more carriages appearing to be defective. Giles ordered that all the carriages be reinforced before being used and then be tested with powder and shot. The ship settled into its normal routines, except for the noise of the carpenter and his mates working on the gun carriages and the boom of their work being tested as each one was completed. That work continued, as the wind steadily eased, until night fall.
Chapter III
Daphne and Elsie resumed their journey at nine in the morning. Daphne had slept soundly and long, and even Elsie, who had helped her mistress get ready for bed and had had to be on hand for her waking, was well rested. The weather was gloomy without actually raining much and they both were lost in recollections of recent events. Neither had had any real idea of what a warship was like. When they were not remembering the happy moments that they had enjoyed recently, each one was brooding on the conditions her man would be enduring.
Daphne shook off the mood after they had stopped to rest the horses at an inn where Daphne had some coffee while Elsie had some tea with the coachman. Last night had been one of the very few occasions when Daphne had dined by herself since she had come out*, and it had brought home the change in her circumstances. She was now the mistress of Dipton Hall and she would have to assert her authority, making it clear that it was her home first and foremost. Only secondly was it the refuge that had been provided for Lady Marianne Crocker and her two daughters. Daphne realized that Lady Marianne was now her half-sister-in-law, but Dipton Hall was her house. Daphne wondered if they should call each other by their first names, or should she be called Lady Giles while Marianne was Lady Marianne. Daphne would be happier to use first names, and she realized with a shock that it was now up to her, as the woman with the higher status, to ensure that this was their practice. The two girls were now her half-nieces-in-law and she really should take some responsibility for their futures, dim as their prospects might seem. It would take some real effort on her part both to enforce her control of the house and to live on amicable terms with its other inhabitants.
Daphne almost wished that the Dower Cottage had not been let to Captain Bush, though she regretted the thought almost as soon as it was formed. She liked Captain Bush and his mother. He was now a close friend of her father, and he was unquestionably a close friend of her husband. But maybe the hope of finding other accommodation for Lady Marianne might not be impossible. It was a pity that the Earl Earl of Camshire had totally washed his hands of his daughter and of her daughters.
Daphne’s mind turned to more interesting topics as she reviewed what she would have to do about the estates. Some drainage should be done in the coming winter. Plans had already been made, but needed to be executed. It was amusing to think that her initial contacts with Richard had involved drainage. In tandem with that work, some field boundaries might be changed and new hedges planted. Decisions had to be made on what livestock to keep over the winter and what would be the best crops to plant in the spring. It was really exciting to be in charge of not only Dipton Hall’s holdings but also those of Dipton Manor since she presumed that her father would want her to keep managing them, just as she had before she married. Of course, she hoped that her father would not feel too lonely with her gone. She would dine with him frequently, and he at Dipton Hall, but it would not be the same. She was also looking forward to having people come to visit her, especially those who had always looked down on her as the daughter of a man who was only the first generation of his family away from trade. Now, as the wife of the son of an earl a marquis , a son who had a title in his own right which he had earned by his own merits, she could expect rather different reactions to her and she would not be above letting people know that she thought their change in attitude was hypocritical, though, of course, only in the nicest ways. In the past, she had pretended to ignore their slighting her, but she had been hurt by them and would be glad to get her just due and put them in their places. That might be a nasty thought, but she wasn’t going to give it up on that ground.
Elsie was also ruminating about how her life would be changed. Of course, she would still be a lady’s maid, but being a lady’s maid to a woman who now was titled ‘Lady’ and the Mistress of her own House was a big step up in the servants’ hierarchy. She would have her work cut out for her. Lady Giles’s clothes and other possessions would all have to be moved from Dipton Manor to Dipton Hall and properly arranged there. That would be Elsie’s job – not the physical moving, of course, but making sure that everything was properly packed and then finding the appropriate places for them would be her task. She might get some resistance to this from Mrs. Haycock, the housekeeper at Dipton Manor, who had set her on her way to her present position, but Elsie wouldn’t take any objections from Mrs. Wilson, even if she had been the housekeeper at an Earl’s Earl’ s London house before coming to Dipton Hall. Elsie did wonder if she could ask Mrs. Haycock for the help of some of the maids at Dipton Manor in gathering Lady Giles things together. With only Mr. Moorhouse in residence, the maids would not be overly busy surely. They had all managed very well when both Captain Bush and his family and Colonel and Mrs. Craig had been staying at Dipton Manor and the only change to that staff would be her own following Lady Giles to Dipton Hall.
These thoughts absorbed the travelers in the coach until it turned into the drive leading to Dipton Hall. Daphne was startled by the turn before recalling that, of course, this was now the way to her own home. She would have to see her father without delay, after taking luncheon at her new residence, since he wouldn’t be at Dipton Hall to greet her.
Looking out of the coach window, Daphne was already thinking about whether all was in order or whether some attention to the grounds was needed. It would be different – and easier – to be managing the gardens at Dipton Hall as her own rather than as the volunteer who had been managing them until Captain Giles could find someone suitable. Yes, the challenges were now more than intellectual puzzles and the rewards of her efforts would be her own – and, of course, Richard’s.
Daphne alighted from the carriage with the aid of a footman to find that Steves had lined up the full complement of servants to welcome her. He had calculated when Lady Giles could be expected and had warned the staff to be ready. Since Lady Marianne had shown little interest in when Lady Giles would be arriving, he had only informed her when the carriage was seen in the drive that someone was arriving, without troubling her with his own inferences about who that person might be. He took his own delight that the arrival was marked by the presentation of the servants without the attendance of the upstairs occupants of the Hall. Daphne had been taught by her father that taking account of the servants and saying a few words with them paid off many times in getting more thoughtful service, so she made a point of going along the parade of servants and making a friendly remark to each of them. Steves was methodically introducing them
to her formally, even though she knew most of them from the many times she had been at the Hall before her marriage. Elsie, for her part, told two of the footmen, as soon as they had been presented, to take the luggage to Lady Giles’s dressing room so that she could lay out a suitable ensemble for luncheon.
On entering the house, Steves did step ahead of Daphne to open the drawing room door and announce, “Lady Giles has arrived.” Daphne sailed into the room to greet a startled Lady Marianne and her two daughters. They exchanged pleasantries before Daphne declared that she had to change after her trip and that Steves should serve luncheon when she was ready. With this, she swept out of the drawing room to ascend the stairs.
Luckily, Lady Marianne and her daughters were left sitting in the drawing room and did not notice Daphne’s slight confusion on reaching the top of the stairs in not being fully aware of which room was hers. Daphne had, of course, been all over Dipton Hall when Mr. Edwards’s workers were readying it after Captain Giles had purchased the estate, but she didn’t remember the details. Her own accommodations when she was married were something that she had neglected in her planning. Luckily, Steves and Mrs. Wilson had attended to the selection and preparation of her quarters and Elsie had had an eye out to direct her mistress to the appropriate place. Elsie, herself, was gratified to find that Steves and Mrs. Wilson must have connived with Tisdale and Mrs. Haycock at Dipton Manor to have all of Daphne’s possessions moved to Dipton Hall. All Elsie would need to do was to arrange them in a convenient way. She had already laid out a day gown into which Daphne could change from her travelling garments.
Daphne did not waste time in changing, though she was tempted to keep her new relations waiting for her just to show who was now in charge. However, she realized that the sooner lunch was over, the sooner she could engage in activities that she regarded as pressing as a result of her having been away. Lunch itself was a stilted affair, for Lady Marianne and her daughters were little interested in what had occurred on Daphne’s short honeymoon or in Captain Giles’s frigate. Animation only arose when Lydia Crocker, the younger of Daphne’s nieces-in-law, started reminiscing about the ball that had been held at Dipton Hall in the not very distant past. Her sister and even her mother joined in the conversation, recollecting the details of the splendid occasion. Inevitably, they wondered when next a ball could be held, recalling how much the previous one had been a focus of social life in the region.
Discussion of the ball, and particularly of the militia officers who had been present, led to Lydia blurting out the fact that her mother had invited Major Thompson of Lord Mosley’s Regiment, together with two of his lieutenants to dine that very evening. Daphne might well have let this pass without remark if she had not noticed that Lydia’s imparting the information produced a look of consternation crossing Lady Marianne’s face. Of course, Lady Marianne had no business inviting guests for dinner at Daphne’s house and she must have hoped to set a precedent that would make it difficult for Daphne to object in future. Daphne would have to nip this challenge in the bud.
“I quite understand your issuing an invitation when I was away,” she began sweetly, “even though you might have realized that I would be returning today. But I expect that in future you will consult me first and, if I agree to what you propose, I will issue the invitation myself.”
With that, Daphne rose from the table and headed upstairs to change into her riding clothes, leaving her newly acquired sister-in-law fuming and wondering what would be a suitable reaction to this laying down of rules. Daphne herself was reveling in having scored such an early victory, though half way up the stairs she realized that having officers and other single men to dinner might be one of the few avenues which could lead to a way to rid Dipton Hall of her husband’s relatives. The most effective way would be for Lady Marianne to marry, but that would be most unlikely as long as she was encumbered with two unmarried daughters. It was possible that they could find some men who would be prepared to marry the girls even without dowries, but it would be ever so much easier if they did have something tangible to bring to a marriage. Daphne was well aware that Lady Marianne’s father, the Earl Marquis of Camshire, was not about to step forward with money for the purpose. She would have to see if she couldn’t persuade Richard that it was his duty. If her daughters were married, Lady Marianne might find a husband among the many well-off widowers in the area for whom the commercial source of their wealth prevented their rising much in society, a barrier that would be breached by having a wife who was the daughter of an earl Marquis , even if she had been thoroughly repudiated by her own father.
Daphne was sufficiently self-aware to realize that she was about to become as much the ruthless match-maker as any of the mothers of unmarried daughters in the area whose stratagems to snare a husband for their daughters had provided her with much amusement in the past. Indeed, she knew, and was delighted, that they had been astonished when Daphne herself had stolen the richest prize of all from under their scheming noses. Not that Daphne thought of Richard’s wanting to marry her in that light.
Daphne changed into her riding habit, one of the scandalous ones that allowed her to ride astride rather than side saddle. Though only a few days had passed since her marriage, she had been so busy beforehand that she had rather let her role as supervisor of the two estates slip. She was eager to catch up. First, though, she wanted to visit her father.
Mr. Moorhouse was, as usual, to be found in his library. He was quite happy to be interrupted by his daughter, and was as keen to hear about her honeymoon as she was to tell him. Evidently, he thought, it had gone well, judging not only by how eager she was to tell him the facts but the way in which she regularly mentioned Giles, almost savoring his name and introducing it as often as possible in her discourse. He laughed with her at the spectacles she must have made being hoisted onto Giles’s frigate with her skirts billowing in the wind, and the sadness that came from having to part. He was immensely glad that the intimate side of marriage appeared to have gone well. Of course, he didn’t ask, but he had been worried since he had been in no position to warn her of the pitfalls of being alone with her husband for the first time, and she had had no mother to inform her. But he could see from the twinkle in her eye and the somewhat dreamy look she gave him when talking about Giles that it must have gone well, especially when she remarked at one point that some of her friends, who had become married and had told her that the transition on the marriage night was painful and unpleasant, had been quite wrong and everything between Giles and her had been perfect from the beginning.
Mr. Moorhouse was amused at Daphne’s handling of Lady Marianne’s presumption and was sympathetic to Daphne’s strategy to rid herself of the burden. But he was skeptical that Giles would provide large enough dowries to the girls to secure their marriages.
“I do not believe that he should provide such generous dowries that they alone would secure the girls’ futures,” he declared. “Captain Giles can’t be expected to provide more than modest marriage portions* since it is really his Father’s duty or those of Lady Marianne’s older brothers to look after the girls. In no way is it Captain Giles’s task, who himself was given virtually no assistance from his father in obtaining a well-to-do existence. Quite the contrary. Your husband, Daphne, has distinguished himself and is able to live very comfortably by his own merits, his father’s lack of support.”
Surprisingly to Daphne, Mr. Moorhouse refused to come to dinner that night to provide her with a male escort. “I may be a widower with more money than status,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as he echoed Daphne’s plans for her sister-in law, “but I would never contemplate marrying Lady Marianne whom, quite frankly, I detest.”
Daphne protested that she had not thought to include him in her schemes, just that she needed support in what could be an awkward dinner. “Try your brother-in-law,” suggested Mr. Moorhouse, “there is no danger that he should fall victim to your marital strategies.”
“Who?” asked
Daphne.
“Lord David, of course. He’s in your debt for taking off his hands the job of trying to keep Lady Marianne within her budget.”
Daphne arrived at the vicarage to find Lord David about to have tea. After polite conversation, she invited him to dinner. His response was to agree happily. “It will be a pleasure to dine out without having to avoid the not too subtle advances of people who think I should marry one of the young ladies present.” Daphne hadn’t realized that Lord David also saw through the many stratagems that were designed to install one of the many young ladies he encountered in the vicarage.
The dinner was a surprising success. The major was an older man who was a wool merchant in Leeds. Daphne suspected that he had bought his commission not only for the excitement that it might offer but also for the social prestige. He was well-spoken, though with a notable Yorkshire accent that told the world that he did not come from the gentry.
The two lieutenants were equally suitable targets for Daphne’s schemes, being professional men whose accents revealed that they also were from the commercial strata of society. The one problem that seemed evident to Daphne was that they would appear to be of a level of society that would require a substantial dowry in order to set up house in the manner to be expected for the granddaughter of an earl Earl, even ones with no close ties to the nobility or substantial fortunes of their own.
The conversation flowed smoothly. Of course, Lady Marianne had been married to an army officer and she and her daughters had spent their lives in regimental towns. Furthermore, Daphne was surprised to learn that Lady Marianne and her daughters had been reading the newspaper that Mr. Edwards had arranged to have delivered to Dipton Hall. They were well able to participate when talk turned from camp life at Ameschester to the danger of invasion. Daphne became the center of attention when the officers learned that she had just returned from Brighton and Portsmouth. They plied her with questions about what she had observed about the state of readiness. Now she was glad that she had paid attention when Giles had commented on the coastal defenses which they had seen on their walks, and that he had pointed out army camps in the area. He had not been impressed by what he saw, and Daphne was able to repeat his opinion that, if Napoleon came in force, the existing forces would be hard put to counter the invasion. That opinion was hotly contested by the lieutenants. Daphne also could report on the large number of ships-of-the line that Giles had pointed out to her at Spithead and his own feeling that the Navy should be able to prevent the French from gaining control of the Channel for long enough that an invasion might succeed. The overall effect of the discussion was to encourage the lieutenants in their wish that their regiment would be moved closer to the coast, and for Lady Marianne’s daughters to encourage them in their hopes of glory.
A Continuing War_At Home and at Sea, 1803-1804 Page 3