“Which must all be accomplished by this time next year,” Viscount Melville said, putting his head in his hands. “My suggestion I made yesterday, Lord Bond, must become a certainty. How soon can you undertake to prepare another expedition to Antwerp to investigate this French Leviathan?”
“My own preparations would extend only as far as procuring a suitable vessel to return to Amsterdam, My Lord. The more difficult task would be to locate a nautical engineer capable of accompanying my expedition to render the necessary expert evaluations.”
Chapter Thirteen
Items to Upgrade
Roberta left the meeting with her composure in a most uncertain state. The likelihood of success with the contract for as many as ten new ships of Spiteful design was more than she had ever hoped. The expression on Lord Bond’s face as he spoke of his need to be accompanied to the Continent by a competent marine engineer made her fear he intended to make an assault on her . . . if not virtue, at best her independence.
His manner about her position as an engineer had heretofore been somewhat patronizing—nay, very patronizing. Suddenly his opinion had taken a totally opposite course? Not without some incentive known for certain only to himself, but she was not without her suspicions.
However, she must consider her duty to her country. She felt confident of her ability to judge the qualities of this French warship if given solid information. She also saw the advantage of her making this assessment herself as she prepared a design to better it. She knew of no man who had both the knowledge and the youth needed to bear the hardships such a journey of espionage would entail.
That did not mean such a one did not exist—she must write to her father to ask his opinion. She had written him last night, describing her voyage and its unexpected ending . . . as well as the death of the French spy. She planned to wait a few days before letting him know about the interview at the Admiralty and the order for ten ships—better to wait until its certainty grew. She need not tell of her suspicions of a part for her in the espionage—merely ask if he could offer a name she might present to the First Lord and Lord Bond.
Feeling somewhat more at ease with her suppositions, she hurried to the renewed meeting with Commander Ripley.
Commander Ripley stood to greet her when she entered his office. When she told him of the tentative order and Their Lordships’ words to her, his face positively glowed. “I must be the first to offer you congratulations on such success in the conference, Miss Stephenson. Ten steamships . . . a personal recommendation of the First Lord! Such a triumph that the Engineering Department has ever seen.”
She seated herself in front of his desk beside Lieutenant Worthington. “Thank you, Commander, but I feel constrained to wait until I learn how the Cabinet has received the request.”
“Ah, I see you have a canny head on your shoulders, but a personal recommendation from the First Lord—and from the First Sea Lord—almost unheard of.”
Lieutenant Worthington seemed overawed by his experience as the first engineering officer risen from the Black Gang to participate in a conference at the Admiralty with the First Lord. Roberta felt any advice or opinion he might offer would reflect his present state of mind.
Roberta allowed herself a smile for both, but she wanted to get these details settled so she could leave and begin making plans. “If you gentlemen are ready, I would like to begin our discussion. I have five issues that I wish to improve upon in the next vessel to be laid down. I believe, Lieutenant, you had nine when we last spoke.”
Worthington took up a large journal from the desk before him. “Indeed, Miss Stephenson, but I has one more concern about protection for the crew . . . as the vessels approach to ram the enemy. That makes a new total of fifteen items to consider.”
Lord Bond spent more time with the Board members as they discussed the strategy for a renewed spying mission. He turned his chair at the boardroom table to glance at the huge dial of the wind indicator on the front wall. It showed a strong west wind in the Channel—a guarantee the French could not embark any invasion fleet to threaten England today.
“The army is engaged in espionage of a military nature,” Viscount Melville said. “Determining the order of battle of the French army around Boulogne and Montreuil.”
“Our blockading ships keep a count of the movement, numbers and anchorages of the French invasion fleet,” the First Sea Lord added.
Mr. Dundas offered Lord Bond a conspiratorial grin. “So you see; you very much have a free hand for gathering intelligence about the shipping being prepared in the region of Antwerp and Flushing. Would you look to entering Europe in the vicinity of Amsterdam again?”
“If a suitable craft can be found, I would prefer entering the Schelde,” Lord Bond replied. “My Foresight was probably recognized as a very English-looking vessel when they came inshore for me near Gravelines.”
“I will put out an order to the Prize Courts to send particulars of all the smaller Dutch craft seized and still awaiting disposal,” the First Sea Lord said. “Will you stay in London awhile? I can inform you of possible vessels for your examination.”
“I had hoped to be about the country on business, but I can have my sailing master, Bloggins, come to London to be available. I trust his judgement implicitly in the surveying of sailing craft.”
“As you would prefer to trust the judgement of Miss Stephenson in the matter of steamships I see,” Dundas said with a smile.
Viscount Melville looked at both. “What are you two considering? I judge Miss Stephenson to be a very respectable young woman—I would be sorely vexed to see you pressure her to become a spy.”
The First Sea Lord looked over his spectacles. “I’m sure an engineer of the male sort can be found. You can take Ripley, if you wish.”
“A woman would fit the particulars of my American passport better, My Lords.”
Viscount Melville raised his chin. “I must own to recalling your saying it proved unnecessary to include a Mrs. Paine in your last mission, less than an hour ago.”
“Yes, My Lord. I admit that I did, but my statement was intended to spare Miss Stephenson any embarrassment. I did take a young woman into my employ as an assistant to myself, and she proved invaluable in drawing the French intelligence away from me so I could take ship for England.”
“And this young woman could perform a similar service for your next mission?” the First Sea Lord asked.
“I would have to locate her first. I am awaiting word from my friends in Amsterdam about her fate. I fear she may have been captured.”
“Good Lord! And you contemplate taking Miss Stephenson to the Continent in her place?” Viscount Melville said in a tight voice. “I would advise you that she has considerable knowledge of our steam developments and plans. I strongly advise you to abandon the intention you seem to entertain.”
Lord Bond lowered his head and shrugged. “I merely pursue the most effective plan for my next mission. I agree that Miss Stephenson would need far greater security for her person than Elise did, but then, that young woman has been in and out of trouble many times before. I would admit to no surprise to find she has talked her way out of all suspicion in France and is now on her way back to Amsterdam.”
Mr. Dundas exchanged a pained look with him. “These loyalists from the time of the Batavian Republic must be under considerable pressure of French investigations. Can you rely upon their reports to you?”
“I am in communication with more than one agency of resistance to French rule in the Netherlands. I look to their incongruences to alert me to suspected French interception.”
“Hmm,” Viscount Melville uttered as he shook his head. “I leave such treacherous business to you—I hope you know what you are doing. I would strongly advise our investigations to keep Miss Stephenson in England—possibly at Chatham where she will be in close touch with both the Admiralty and the seaborne communications from the Continent. I will arrange another appointment with her to explain our intentions.”<
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“Thank you, My Lord, but I would hope to have the opportunity to discuss the matter with her first. It is evident that she must return to Clydebank as soon as the Spiteful is repaired in order to commence the preparations for building the new ships—”
“If the order is confirmed by the Cabinet,” the First Sea Lord interjected.
“Nevertheless, My Lord, my knowledge of engineering business tells me there are preparations that must be made at the earliest possible moment. It is generally known that the enterprise that has begun to fulfill a contract before it is tendered is often the one to win it.”
“I can certainly offer some money in advance from discretionary funds,” Viscount Melville mused, his eyes on a ledger before him. “Enough to start the procurement of materials.”
“That would be most generous, My Lord. I hope you will allow me to inform her of the offer.”
“When would you do this, if she returns to Scotland and you conduct the business ‘in the country’ you spoke of earlier?” Mr. Dundas asked.
“Quite soon—I need to make further arrangements for my yacht crew, whom I left aboard her ship in Dover harbour. I would take the opportunity to ask her advice about sources of information for my edification.” Lord Bond smiled. “I see that I have a pressing need for further instruction into the technicalities of steamships before I return to the Continent.”
Chapter Fourteen
The Missing Hanoverian
Five days later, when Roberta and Lord Bond had spent the morning in the Steam Directorate assessing the information about the French steamships, the First Lord sent word for them to meet him for luncheon in his private apartment upstairs in Admiralty House.
The family dining room was of modest size and had ample room for the two guests and the family—today comprising the Viscountess and a teenaged daughter with whom they exchanged a few pleasantries as they seated themselves. “What was the verdict on the configuration of the French Leviathan?” Viscount Melville asked them, even before the first course arrived.
Roberta set down her water glass after taking a sip. “The two hulls mentioned seem to baffle everyone, Your Lordship, but logic demands that they could only be hulls joined beam to beam. The other option of stem to stern would be too susceptible to dangerous hogging. They could break apart in heavy seas.”
“Yes, of course,” the First Lord said. “I was trying to envisage taking the timbers of two vessels to make a very large ship—sufficient to carry the heavy steam engines, but it would require years to finish such a giant and fit it out for sea.”
Lord Bond paused from buttering a roll. “As Miss Stephenson says—it is only logical that they are affixed beam to beam . . . and as she also suggests, likely with the paddlewheels, otherwise vulnerable to our cannon fire, secured out of danger between the hulls.”
The First Lord nodded and then directed a family question at Lady Dundas; the first course was brought in and little was said until the soup was finished.
“How was today’s Cabinet meeting, my dear?” Lady Dundas asked her husband. “I hope they are not fretting about the Naval Estimates again.”
The First Lord laughed. “No, not today. The strangest thing was all the concern for a missing secretary—but then he is one of the Hanoverians, and they don’t want His Majesty the King to become disturbed.”
Lord Bond gestured with a hand. “No, Lord forbid. Poor old gentleman must be kept from harming his health with such worries. Who is it, My Lord, someone attached to the King’s German Legion?”
“No, the Duke of Cambridge visited several days ago and anxiously informed the Prime Minister that a secretary with the Hanover Privy Council was missing from their offices in St James’s Palace. No one had seen him for about four days.”
“Anything missing with him?” Lord Bond asked.
“Apparently not.”
Roberta delved into her memory for the topic of discussion. King George was the Elector of Hanover as well as King of England and his German Legion was a force of troops raised from the King’s German subjects. She had never heard of the other organisation.
Luckily, neither had the young Lady Dundas. “What is the Privy Council, Papa?”
“It is the government in exile of the Hanoverians, my dear. They have been in London since the French invaded the place in 1807 . . . or was it in 1810? One or the other.”
“What governing do they do?” Lord Bond said.
“Very little, I expect, but they insist on maintaining diplomatic ties and finances separately from the government in Whitehall. You had a relative connected with the King’s German Legion, did you not?”
“The late Earl of Silchester was Colonel of one of the Dragoon Regiments,” Lord Bond said. “The Dowager Countess is my Aunt Caroline.”
“Hmm, I wonder if I should advise Lord Liverpool to involve the German troops in finding Gottliebe?”
“I might suggest I call on Aunt Caroline. She is quite familiar with the senior officers and might be able to suggest a name or two you could pass on to the Prime Minister.”
“Thank you. It could be helpful.”
“I was to escort Miss Stephenson back to St James’s Square this afternoon, but perhaps you would like to come along, my dear? Aunt Caroline lives opposite the new Regent’s Park and is always an entertaining old bird—time you started meeting more people in the city.”
Roberta felt suddenly unprepared to meet any of his relatives, but she could hardly refuse. “I did have work to attend to this evening, My Lord, but if you would take me to Number Six to change into something suitably fashionable for such a visit, I would be pleased to accompany you. But I still have no one to chaperone me.”
“That was one matter I might discuss with Aunt Caroline. One of her late husband’s sisters might suit.”
“I would not like to put anyone out, but I have been too long unaccompanied here. My aunt is on her way from Scotland but may not arrive for days.”
“Then I will ask my aunt for her recommendation.” Lord Bond smiled. “That’s settled then.”
As it happened, Roberta was to meet two countesses. The younger was the wife of the present Earl, son of the elder, the Dowager Countess of Silchester. While the younger’s attitude showed her complete disinterest in meeting some commoner, the other showed a very embarrassing degree of interest in any young woman in her nephew’s company.
“Miss Stephenson is almost a colleague, as it were,” Lord Bond said airily when the young countess had made her excuses for leaving them alone. “We are both involved in discussions at the Admiralty.”
Despite a very severe visage and a tall, rather lanky frame that seemed to consist entirely of bones, the Lady Caroline issued a barrage of questions with a very good natured, if somewhat ironic, manner. “So what led you to suppose you would excellently serve in the role of chaperone, Julian?” She shifted her gaze toward Roberta. “We must quickly ensure no one else sees you alone in the company of this ne’er-do-well nephew of mine. Have you no relatives in the city?”
“No, My Lady, but my aunt is on her way from Scotland to be my companion.”
“Did no one anticipate that need beforehand?” Lady Caroline’s expression seemed to denote a mind delving fruitlessly for a word suitable to describe a parent so lacking in good sense.
“I suppose not, Your Ladyship. My meeting with Lord Bond at sea was not something we planned for.”
“Meeting at sea? You were on a sea voyage unaccompanied?” Nothing would serve but a recounting of the complete story of the sinking of the Foresight and the journey to the Admiralty. “So, young lady, do you mean to tell me that you hold a position of some authority in your father’s business . . . and are even qualified to make . . . decisions?”
Roberta lowered her chin to present a smaller image. “I am manager and designer of my father’s shipyard, Your Ladyship.”
“Good Heavens.” Lady Caroline’s face went from horror to something more akin to sharing a scandal. “You have
a man’s role in the works—! How wonderful! You have achieved something that generations of women have had to secure by marriage and by a deal of superhuman subterfuge and patience. How I envy you.”
Arriving at the discussion Lord Bond had planned for the visit had to be postponed until after several similar detours and a lengthy and convivial tea had been dealt with. While the Countess’ questions showed a complete lack of knowledge about steam and ships, she was very shrewd in her pronouncements on business and the way one must approach politicians if one needed something from them.
“Lord Bond mentioned to the First Lord that you were very familiar with the officers of the King’s German Legion, Your Ladyship,” Roberta said after she noticed him showing signs of impatience.
“I was, while my husband was alive, but what interest can you have with them?”
Lord Bond saw his opening and quickly took advantage of it, relating what they had learned at lunch.
“Hmm, yes. I can see some dark stormclouds in any number of teacups, but why is it a concern of yours?”
“Because of the French agents, and more importantly, the likely existence of a spy in the Admiralty—whose information about my activities may well have led to our shooting affray on the train to London.”
“I still do not see any connection to this missing Herr Gottliebe.”
Neither did Roberta, who waited for Lord Bond’s explanation as avidly as did the Countess.
“Do you not think it suspicious that this disappearance should have occurred within a day or two of Miss Stephenson’s and my information reaching the Admiralty? I am suggesting that this Herr Gottliebe could be the correspondent of the spy’s information, and that he thought the situation was becoming too dangerous for him when one of the agents he set on me was shot and the other was in custody and subject to interrogation. He has gone into hiding.”
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