by Sahara Kelly
“Understandable,” nodded Edmund. “I’m sure our attempts to elevate our circumstances haven’t gone unnoticed.”
“Do you have any instructions for me in that regard, sir?” Chidwell frowned slightly. “I would like to be able to either encourage or dismiss the applicants. Being vague is…well, not always comfortable.”
Edmund thought for a moment or two. “What do we need most, Chidwell? Is there one staff position we could fill to make a difference to you and our current members?”
“Actually, my Lord, we could use two people. One—a maid for her Ladyship, which would allow Susan to return to her housemaid duties full time, and the other an additional footman. Young Terence is shaping up well enough, and I might recommend his elevation to under-butler in a year or so, but there’s no denying that an extra pair of hands at this point would be valuable.”
“Well as long as the applicants understand that we can only offer a working wage…”
“Of course, my Lord.”
“Then I leave that in your hands. You might consult with Lady Ridlington about a maid.” Edmund glanced at Chidwell. “I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”
Chidwell bowed. “You are most wise to suggest it. In fact, one young woman has applied and mentioned she knew Her Ladyship…it appears that she was recently in the employ of Lady Fincham.”
“Indeed. Well I’m sure my wife would be curious to hear of that applicant. Good luck to you, Chidwell. I’m damned glad I have you to worry about the staff. I have more than enough here to keep me busy.” He nodded at the papers strewn across his desk. “Know anyone who wants to buy a large piano?”
“Er, no sir. I’m afraid not.” Chidwell permitted himself a small smile. “Few of my acquaintances have ever mentioned such an instrument, and the ones who have would rather learn to play someone else’s than buy their own.”
Edmund blinked as his butler’s words started a train of thought that he found interesting, to say the least.
“You know…” He stroked his chin absently, his mind darting this way and that, pursuing ideas, discarding some and expanding others. Finally, he looked up. “Be a good fellow and find my wife, would you? Then bring her in and I’ll need you to stay as well.” He sat up straight and pushed most of the papers aside. “You’ve given me an idea.”
“I’m most pleased to have done so, my Lord. I shall find her Ladyship immediately.”
After his butler had departed, Edmund spent a few minutes staring out of the window while cogitating, and then wondering if he’d completely lost his mind.
“You wanted to see me, my Lord?” Rosaline peered around the door.
“Yes, indeed. Do come in.” Would he never be able to get her to use his given name all the time? He muffled the sigh and ushered her in as Chidwell followed. “I have had an idea and I’d like to discuss it with you both, since you will be the ones affected most.”
“Very well.” Rosaline took a seat and arranged her skirts, while Chidwell stood quietly behind her.
“I think we should start bartering.”
A matched set of blinks answered his statement.
“We have so much here that others might be able to use. And in turn they have skills that we might use. So…fair exchange.”
Rosaline recovered the power of speech. Albeit to a rather minor extent. “What?”
Edmund rose and began to pace. “Chidwell gave me the idea.”
“I did not.” He looked at Rosaline and then back at Edmund. “Begging your pardon, my Lord, but I never said anything about bartering. Not once.” His expression could well have been described as affronted.
“Well, not directly, no. But what you said about the piano?”
“The piano?” Rosaline’s confusion was writ clear over her face.
At least she’d expanded her vocabulary to two words. Things were looking up.
“Yes, the piano,” continued Edmund patiently. “Let me explain.”
“I think you’d better, and be quick about it.” One of her eyebrows rose in the most intimidating way.
He took a breath. “Chidwell reminded me of how many people would love to learn to play the piano. We have a grand piano that is capable of producing little more than dust right now. What if we opened that instrument, asked Kitty—who plays beautifully— to act as a teacher, and gave lessons here at Ridlington?”
“In exchange for what?” Rosaline’s head tilted to one side.
“In exchange for things we need. Let’s say the draper’s daughter took lessons. Instead of charging for them, we order curtains. Quid pro quo, as they say.”
“The butcher has a daughter,” muttered Chidwell. “A sonata for a side of beef sounds a fair trade.”
“Why not?” Edmund spun around and spread his hands. “Dancing lessons. The ballroom is sadly disused, but still a ballroom. All you ladies dance, I’m sure. And there are dressmakers, mantua makers, many others who might like the chance to learn some of the more intricate steps.”
Rosaline looked unconvinced. “So far we’ve acquired draperies and a few dresses. Perhaps a new jacket for you and aprons for the servants. I like Chidwell’s idea of a side of beef best. But I doubt the butcher needs a new hat or lessons in the quadrille.”
A sigh of exasperation hissed from between Edmund’s lips. “Then let’s find out who has what we want and how to barter for it.”
He rounded his desk and leaned forward, knuckles down on the surface, eyebrows in a fierce arch. “It’s time to get to work on Ridlington if we’re to survive here. We’re barely making it, Rosaline.” He flashed a glance at Chidwell. “You know it, as well. Scraping by is no way to improve. We have to move forward, and at this point I’m prepared to entertain any notions, no matter how unorthodox you may think they are.”
Silence fell for a moment or two.
Then Rosaline sighed and stood. “Family conference. After dinner. I’ll make sure everyone’s there.” She turned to Chidwell. “Since you’re family, as well, Chidwell, I’m going to ask you to talk with everyone below stairs. Explain our ideas and see what they think. After all, they know the local folk and might have some valuable insights on whether this would work or not.”
“Of course, my Lady.” He lifted his chin. “We regard ourselves as part of the Ridlington estate, Ma’am. Our loyalty and our duty is to the family. I know I speak for us all when I say how honored we are to be here and to have your confidence in such matters.”
“Excellent.” Edmund beamed. “Oh and I still think we need to find a place for that girl from the Fincham’s. I’ll give up breakfast if it will save a soul from that terror of a woman.”
Rosaline’s eyes widened as she turned to Chidwell. “Jean? Or Mabel?”
“Jean, I believe.”
“Oh lovely.” Rosaline clapped her hands. “Such a nice girl. I will be very happy to see her here, although I suppose you’re going to have to deal with the rather low wages issue, Chidwell.”
“It is my belief that the young lady would willingly work here for nothing, my Lady,” he answered wryly.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” muttered Edmund. “But it’s going to be damn close…”
*~~*~~*
Rosaline led the way into the small salon after a dinner she knew should have been better. Edmund had the right of it—they were barely making ends meet.
The entire family was present; Simon having been summoned to attend after Evensong. Richard and Kitty seemed to be on the outs with each other, not an unusual state of affairs, and Letitia simply looked calm as always. And yet Rosaline sensed a worry beneath the placid gaze. Something was definitely going on with that young lady. But how to gain her confidence…that would be a challenging task.
Hecate was just…Hecate. Curling herself inelegantly into a side chair, Rosaline knew she would watch everyone and listen to every word before venturing an opinion. Another Ridlington mystery.
Sighing, she turned her attention to her husband, who was already beginn
ing to disclose the idea he’d had. He spoke well, fluidly, a man used to addressing groups of people. He might not have been on his own quarterdeck, but the air of a sailor clung to him like the scent of the ocean. She hoped her news might be of interest to that side of him. The letter burned in her pocket, but she waited for the right moment.
Edmund wasn’t commanding his audience tonight, he was enjoining them to help him, to suggest their own ideas and express their thoughts about this plan.
“So you see, we are almost at point-non-plus. There’s nothing left to sell in the house, and the debts may not be increasing, but they’re not declining either. In a few weeks we’ll be facing spring and our farms are not in good order. The Ridlington estate should be able to assist in cases like this, ensuring a good year of growth and a robust harvest. Sadly? We cannot.”
“We understand, Edmund. Really we do.” Richard looked worried. “If there was anything in our power that we could bring to the table, we would. But we’ve talked about this over and over again. Yes, it’s an interesting notion, this barter-services-for-goods idea of yours. I’d like to see it happen, but I’m forced to confess that my initial thought is that the benefits may not outweigh the difficulties. Kitty plays like an angel. But how many will wish to learn from her? Half a dozen perhaps?” He glanced around. “You tell me how many of our village girls will wish to be proficient at Chopin? And even if we could find some, I doubt their exchanged goods would meet our needs in the long run.”
Letitia raised her head. “I’m afraid Richard is correct, Edmund. I know many of our villagers, and they would love their daughters to better themselves and make a good match. What parent wouldn’t? But piano lessons…I doubt that would be of much interest or use to them.”
“Not even dancing?” Edmund grasped at a straw.
Rosaline decided she should be the one to destroy his hopes. She was his wife and perhaps he would take it better coming from her. “My Lord, you have presented an excellent concept, but although it pains me to admit it, I have to agree with the family. Such an idea simply cannot provide what we need, which is a steady influx of currency.”
His face fell as he walked to his favorite chair and sank into it with a sigh. “Then all is lost. I will be forced to sell Ridlington.” He let his gaze wander around the room. “And God only knows if we’ll get enough for it to cover our debts.”
Hecate uncurled herself and walked to his chair, resting a hip on the arm beside him. “We shall come about, Edmund. You’re too good a sailor to steer us onto a rock.”
He smiled at her and took her hand. “At this moment, Hecate, I can honestly say that not one of my experiences at sea, diverse and risky thought they were, not one was as difficult as the future we face right now.”
“Do you wish you were back on board your ship?”
“Now and again.” He squeezed her hand. “But more again than now. We’re family. I wouldn’t leave any of you. That’s a promise.”
Rosaline watched the interaction knowing that the time was nigh. “Edmund,” she said, trying to work out her next words. “You miss the sea, don’t you?”
“I try not to. My life has moved on from there. But…” He turned to her, a slight frown creasing his brow. “I will admit to the occasional yearning. Why?”
“Well…um…because I think I may have a ship.”
Chapter Nine
Her announcement stunned the room into silence, as all eyes turned her way. Edmund’s, in particular, were practically popping out of his head.
But he found his voice before the others. “What did you just say?”
She cleared her throat. “I said I think I may have a ship.”
“All right. So my ears did not deceive me.” He gave his head a little shake as if to clear it. “Now if you would kindly explain that extraordinary statement…?”
Rosaline pulled the letter from the pocket of her gown. “I received this letter from James this afternoon. James FitzArden. I wanted to wait until we were all together to tell you about it.” She frowned. “It’s rather complicated, but I’ll do my best to simplify matters.” She unfolded the pages. “It seems that my late husband was part owner of a packet boat. His partner died, leaving him sole ownership.”
“I follow thus far,” said Simon, leaning forward.
“Yes, I managed that as well,” she grinned. “But now it gets complicated. The vessel was moored on the Thames and all its comings and goings were handled by a London trading company, under some sort of lease agreement with the owner.” She glanced up. “That would be the late Lord Henry.”
Nods indicated that everyone was following along.
“When he passed away, however, it was discovered that this ship had not been included as part of the entail, nor as an asset of the Henry estate—because of the original partnership agreement. It should have reverted to the heir of that partnership, but no designation had been made at that time. The first partner died without issue, as did my husband. So…it seems the ship is now being deeded over to me, as the only remaining legal claimant.”
“Um…” Letitia wrinkled her brow. “So there was nobody to inherit the ship from the first partner’s side.” She held up one finger. “And no mention of the ship in the Henry estate settlements?” A second finger went up.
Rosaline nodded. “Correct. It would seem that Henry’s cousin, the heir, was informed, but didn’t consider it worth requesting through the courts.”
“Sooo…” Letitia raised a third finger and both eyebrows. “Good God, Rosaline. Yes, the ship is yours.”
“Are you sure it’s not entailed?” Richard tilted his head. “It’s rare for such a large piece of property to be overlooked in a situation such as this…”
“Agreed.” Rosaline leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “But James lists the series of events and says he has all the documents, and the end result proves that I am now the legal owner of record of a packet boat.” She paused. “Er, whatever that is.”
All eyes turned to Edmund, who had been silent for far too long.
He looked around at them all, ending with his gaze fixed on his wife. Then he took a deep breath. “A packet boat is a blanket name for several different kinds of ship. Such as a schooner, or a sloop, or even cutters, brigs—that sort of thing. They’re the hard workers of the sailing world. You could sail one along a canal, or…if you’re quite hardy and brave…even cross the Atlantic, although I’d not recommend it.”
“Oh.” Rosaline blinked. “Well, that’s good to know.”
Warming to his train of thought, Edmund continued. “They’re extensively used as delivery vessels, carrying mail and cargo and so on. They run to Ireland from places like Liverpool, and carry dispatches to wherever the Navy happens to need ‘em.” He shifted in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, ankle to knee. “You can even slap a few cannon on them if necessary, and they’re speedy fellows when the wind hits their sails just right.”
“Hmm.” Richard’s grin was charmingly wicked. “A few cannon and the right position off shore…we might be able to rid the county of the Finchams for once and for all.”
“Did you not know about any of this, Rosaline?” Hecate asked curiously, ignoring her brother’s humorous comment.
“No, not a thing,” she answered. “Lord Henry did not care to divulge any of his business dealings—it is not unusual for women to be excluded from such things. And no mention of this matter came to my attention during his illness. The general opinion is that they are best left to men. Sadly, my late husband subscribed to that belief.”
“Well that’s quite wrong.” Hecate’s hair flew around her face as she shook her head crossly. “How narrow-minded. And silly.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” smiled Rosaline. “And fortunately James feels similarly on this matter.” She lifted the letter from her lap. “As soon as he heard about this situation he wrote to me with the basics. I received the news just today.”
“How did he come to hear of it?”
Edmund questioned.
She turned to him. “The lease expired at the beginning of this month, it seems. The company’s owner began to search for the original contract’s signers, and that led him to me. Of course, I wasn’t there, but James has been kind enough to act on my behalf once or twice and eventually the owner was able to contact him.”
“What on earth do we do now? Do we sell it?” Simon asked.
“I don’t know.” Rosaline looked around. “This has caught me completely by surprise. I suppose it would fetch a certain sum if we were to offer it for sale, but my instinct is to review our options before making that decision.”
Edmund nodded. “A sound idea.” He rose. “Here’s my suggestion. Let me go up to London and review this vessel. I believe I can assess its value relatively accurately, and if it would bring us a tidy sum, then we shall—with your permission, my dear—“ he bowed toward Rosaline, “sell it.”
“London,” breathed Kitty. “Oh Edmund…”
He stifled a groan. “I know. I’ve promised you and Richard a London visit. And given these unexpected circumstances, perhaps this is the time. If your Aunt Venetia can be persuaded to advance her plans.”
“Will you write her, Edmund?” Richard flashed him a pleading look.
“I will. You have to realize we have little in the way of funds right now, and she will have to be apprised of that fact…especially since the Season will be underway soon…”
“She won’t mind, I know.” Kitty clasped her hands together tightly in excitement. “And I have several gowns that I’ve been making over. Truly Edmund, this would be wonderful above all things.”
Rosaline watched Edmund’s face as he outlined his plans. How like him to understand, evaluate and develop a strategy within minutes of hearing about this windfall. Such a gift was most probably what had rendered him an excellent naval Captain.
He turned to her. “What do you think, Rosaline? I am sure I can leave you in control of Ridlington for the time this will take. I could ask for no better hands at the helm.” He smiled, an expression she’d come to cherish.