suddenly. How could he possibly deduce so much from a few seconds’ exchange? He smiled at his own foolishness and knocked on Captain Greenaway’s door. There were other things to occupy him. His cargo, for one.
‘Lord Besthorpe.’ The Captain left his desk to come forward, hand outstretched. ‘How good it is to see you.’
Dominic took the proffered hand. ‘Not half as good as it is to see you, Captain. Did you have a good voyage?’
‘It was somewhat rough, but we weathered it. I believe the cargo took no harm. I have spices and the finest silks, saltpetre, opium and precious stones. I have kept those here.’ And he took a key from the drawer of his desk and unlocked a stout cupboard. ‘They are mostly uncut diamonds and rubies, but they should make a tidy profit.’ He took a bag from the cupboard and tipped its contents on the desk. ‘There! What do you say to those?’
Dominic picked up the largest of the diamonds and smiled to himself. He had proved his critics wrong. They had said trade was demeaning in a peer of the realm who should be above such things, and what had he ever done to make him think he could make a profit from it? Profit was vulgar.
There might have been a time when he might have agreed with them, a time when he was young and his father was alive, a time when he had no idea his inheritance would be a pile of debts with an estate which had been allowed to run down until there was nothing left but the old house and the land itself.
The year before, at the age of twenty-six, he had succeeded his father and had cast about him for a remedy, short of parting with the house and its contents. A small parcel of land had been sold in order to stave off the immediate threat, but he needed more, much more, if he was to restore his home and make the land fruitful.
It was Bertie Cosgrove, a boyhood friend, who had told him about the profits to be made from trade, especially with India, and cited an acquaintance of his lately come home from several years out there, who was as rich as Croesus. It was, so he said, impossible to fail and now the war was over and all danger from Napoleon a thing of the past, trading vessels were moving freely again.
There were many reasons why Dominic could not go to India himself; he had a young sister who was dependent on him, there was the estate which needed his attention and, most of all, there was Sophie.
He had asked her to marry him the year before, somewhat prematurely because he was in mourning for his parents and had only then become aware of the parlous state of his finances. They had gone on a picnic party to Richmond at which there had been a great deal of horseplay among the men and some surreptitious flirting. Although she had always been on the periphery of his acquaintances, he had suddenly become aware of her beauty and easy charm.
She was very popular and was to have her own come-out ball that Season which his mourning precluded him from attending, a source of great regret to him. She had laughingly told him that she expected several offers of marriage on that occasion, which was probably no less than the truth, for she was a viscount’s daughter whose dowry was said to be considerable.
He told himself that the dowry had not been a factor; he wanted her for herself. Afraid of losing her, he had proposed at the picnic and been accepted. All London knew of it, though they had postponed the announcement until he should be out of mourning and had brought his finances about. It was a matter of pride, he had told her; he would not have it said he married her for her money.
It was that more than anything which had made him look seriously at the idea of trading with India and Bertie, who had once been a seagoing man, had introduced him to Captain Joseph Greenaway. The Captain had served throughout the war, but was on half-pay, a state of affairs he had been anxious to remedy. He had a little prize money saved, and Dominic put in all the money he could scrape together, to lease a brig with its crew and pay for a cargo. It had been a gamble, but a gamble that had turned out well.
That first voyage had made a good profit so he had handed the bulk of it back for a second trip, and now here was the Silken Maid, home again with yet another cargo. If they went on like this they would soon be able to buy the ship. A fleet of ships!
He turned the diamond over in his hand, smiling at his own fantasy. ‘This will make a fine betrothal ring,’ he said, tying the stone in the corner of his handkerchief. ‘I’ll take it to Rundell and Bridges myself; they’ll make it up for me. You know what to do with the rest.’
‘Yes, my lord. While I was in Calcutta I was given a glimpse of a diamond the size of a pigeon’s egg which might be for sale at a good price. Obtaining that would set the seal on the venture because I don’t doubt it would make a good profit. The Regent himself would covet it.’
‘Maybe, but buying it would depend on the profit we make on this cargo and what you can make with the outgoing goods.’
‘You have a return cargo?’
‘I am in the middle of negotiating one. It will take another week or two, so take some leave. By the time you come back, it will be ready and waiting. In the meantime, will you come and take a celebratory drink with me?’
‘I thank you, my lord, but my family will be expecting me as soon as news that we have docked reaches them.’
‘Of course.’ He was on the point of leaving, when he turned back. ‘Who was the young lady I met on deck? She was wrapped up in a cloak which was certainly not in the latest mode, but I think she must be a lady by the way she spoke and the way she carried herself. She told me she was travelling with her brother. I did not know we had the facilities to take passengers.’
‘That was Miss Woodhill.’ The Captain smiled. ‘A charming young lady, but I know nothing about her except that she has recently lost her father who was in the employ of the East India Company and she is now the sole guardian of her young brother. It is a great responsibility for one so lacking in years. They were looking for a cheap passage and I thought why not? It’s all grist to the mill.
‘I turned my cabin over to the lady and slept in here on the settle. The boy went in with the first mate; there is a second bunk in his cabin. They both seemed very content with the arrangement, possibly because I asked little more than their board by way of fare. You do not object, do you?’
‘No, though it can hardly have been comfortable. Do they have a family here?’
‘That I do not know, my lord. Do you wish me to make enquiries?’
‘No, not at all, I asked out of curiosity, no more.’
Which was nothing but the truth, he told himself, as he returned to his carriage and ordered his driver to take him to Bond Street. He would have a few rounds of sparring at Gentleman Jackson’s and then go on to Grillons where he had arranged to meet Bertie Cosgrove.
‘I really think this hotel is too dear for us,’ Emma said, looking round the crowded dining-room at the splendidly dressed patrons. ‘Everyone seems so top of the trees.’
The men were clad in bright coloured coats and even brighter waistcoats. Their starched cravats sat under collar points which reached their cheeks and their legs were encased in tight-fitting pantaloons. The younger ladies were dressed in gowns of flimsy silk or net over satin which revealed more than they covered, having high waists with low necklines, while the more matronly were in heavier brocades and velvets with padded skirts from which their
