Chapter 16 #2
Silence settled across the room like a silken drape, weighted by implication. For a long breath, no one stirred. Then, from his place near the fireplace, the Earl of Saunton shifted, adjusting his cravat as though it had grown inexplicably tighter.
“I … must admit something,” he said, voice low. “I already engage in trade.”
Aidan’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
The very notion contradicted everything he had been taught.
Gentlemen, especially those of noble birth, did not stoop to commerce.
Such matters were for merchants and shopkeepers.
A gentleman of standing derived his income from land, rents, and investments executed at arm’s length through agents.
And yet, none of the men before him seemed remotely scandalized.
Saunton raised both hands, surrendering to the truth.
“What choice did I have? I inherited a crumbling title, with estates so neglected I scarcely knew where to begin. My father, God rest his soul, was a menace in the eyes of his tenants and addled by the end. I could not right things without capital. So I engaged a proxy and entered trade. Mills. Steam. Whatever turned a profit. How do you think I tripled my holdings in such a short time?”
The Duke of Halmesbury leaned forward, tugging his coat into better alignment. “When Saunton confided in me, I made a similar choice. A proxy acts on my behalf, but I have investments in ventures reaching as far north as Scotland. It has brought my interests unexpected breadth.”
“A gentleman is permitted, by the unwritten rules of society, to invest outside of his estates,” Aidan said slowly, his tone contemplative as he resumed pacing.
Saunton gave a rueful tug at his shirt collar. “Yes, but we are … rather more involved than the occasional idle investor.”
Aidan cast a look toward his father, uncertain what to believe. Lord Moreland rose from his chair and crossed to the window, folding his hands behind his back with the air of a man deep in thought.
“I have been exploring similar possibilities,” he admitted. “My solicitor has conducted inquiries on my behalf. I have not yet committed to any one course, but … it is heartening to know others have made similar considerations. It is not a topic easily discussed.”
Filminster spoke then, his tone steady. “Halmesbury and Saunton have both provided valuable guidance as I navigate the beginnings of such ventures.”
Across the room, Smythe rose from his desk and moved toward a nearby cabinet.
In silence, he selected a decanter and poured a modest measure into a tumbler.
With a steady hand, he drank, then replaced the glass with a decisive clink.
When he turned back, he was transformed.
Confidence radiated from him, his eyes glinting with humor.
He was the smallest man in the gathering, yet in that moment, he stood the tallest.
“Well,” he said, voice rich with satisfaction, “then it seems I am speaking to precisely the right group of gentlemen.”
Aidan chuckled softly. “So it would seem. I had expected far more resistance. But”— he gestured toward Smythe with an encouraging smile—“please, go on.”
Smythe inclined his head. “Aidan and I have discussed the merits of forming a syndicate. A business arrangement to acquire a fleet of fast ships. I have already compiled a list of clippers in sound condition with experienced crews. I intend to approach the owners with offers to purchase.”
Lord Moreland returned to his seat, his expression sharpening with interest. “You mean to control the means of transport, not the goods themselves. That would allow for flexibility in responding to demand. A clever strategy. Tell us, what is your full plan?”
Smythe adjusted the front of his coat with a sharp tug, his posture now firm with conviction.
“My plan is to establish a shipping company centered on swift voyages, reaching the Orient and returning in under a year. We would specialize in highly profitable goods, such as Chinese tea. If we pool our resources, we can purchase the fastest vessels available, and commission new ones built to our exact specifications.”
“What of the East India Company?” Aidan asked. “They still hold dominance in trade with India.”
Smythe inclined his head in acknowledgment.
“Indeed. But I have contacts within the company, and I have broached the idea quietly. There are routes they do not serve effectively … paths that could be turned to our advantage. Our strength will be speed and adaptability. The East India Company is immense, but precisely because of its size, it cannot pivot quickly. We, on the other hand, are unencumbered. With the changes brought on by Napoleon’s fall, opportunities abound. ”
The Duke of Halmesbury leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
He exchanged a glance with Saunton, who offered a brief, approving nod.
The duke then turned back to Smythe. “We are interested. Naturally, I would like to review the proposed routes and examine the specific opportunities you have identified.”
“Would it be possible to operate through a proxy, Mr. Smythe?” Aidan asked, the question earnest. It seemed unnecessary for Smythe to risk his standing in society, given how Halmesbury and Saunton had managed their own affairs discreetly.
Smythe shook his head in dissent. “I have decided I must be the headman to make this venture a success. There are connections I have cultivated these past few years, in Parliament, within the shipping companies themselves, and I have cousins in the navy, so I know the right men. High society might be scandalized, but the men I do business with will be impressed to work with me.”
Halmesbury rose and crossed the room. He extended his hand. Smythe blinked, startled by the gesture, but recovered swiftly and grasped it in a firm handshake.
“You have earned a fine reputation for negotiating on your brother’s behalf at the Lords,” Halmesbury said warmly. “Saunton and I will examine your proposal. If it holds merit, you shall have our support. Financial, strategic, and confidential.”
Saunton joined them, clasping Smythe’s hand in turn. “It sounds like the start of something remarkable.”
From his chair, Lord Moreland cleared his throat and leaned forward slightly. “I, too, am intrigued. Once I see the particulars, I may be persuaded to lend my support.”
Filminster gave a quiet nod. “I shall follow Halmesbury and Saunton in whatever course they recommend. They are seasoned in such matters, and I am still learning the intricacies of managing my estates.”
Aidan felt one weight lift off his shoulders.
The first part of his plan was a success.
Smythe had a pledge from powerful peers to back him as he moved his interests into trade.
Their support would be invaluable over the coming days, especially within the beau monde, where Smythe would need support once he made his scandalous move into business dealings.
When the meeting concluded, the gentlemen moved onto the terrace, where a cooler breeze stirred the heavy air. It was a brief respite, a pause before the evening took its next turn. The more delicate matter involving Gwen.
Filminster and Aidan stepped away from the others, finding a quiet corner. It offered both privacy and a moment to collect their thoughts.
“Any word of Trafford?” Aidan asked, his voice low. Unexpectedly, he had grown fond of Julius Trafford and his eccentricities, despite his earlier resolve to keep the man at arm’s length.
Filminster tapped a thoughtful rhythm on the stone balustrade.
“Yes. It appears Lady Astley is missing someone as well. She had intended to collect Stirling’s ward this afternoon, but the rain delayed her.
By the time her carriage reached Trafford’s family home, the young lady was nowhere to be found. ”
Aidan’s thoughts returned to the bloodied note received earlier. “The young woman who delivered the letter to Halmesbury’s house?”
Filminster lifted his shoulders in a slow shrug.
“Perhaps. Miss Audrey Gideon, I believe her name is. No one seems to know much about her, but it is too coincidental to be ignored. Two people vanishing from the same household on the same afternoon? Still, we must tread carefully. We risk endangering them both if we act too publicly.”
Aidan studied his brother-in-law’s features and saw the worry that lingered beneath his composed expression. “Trafford is clever. He will find a way to send word soon.”
“I hope so. It unsettles me, knowing a friend placed himself in danger for my sake. I keep replaying the events, wondering if there was a better way to handle everything.”
Aidan shook his head. “What is done is done. All that remains is to deal with the present. Trafford was adamant about helping, and he is no fool.”
Filminster burst out laughing despite his anxiety. “That is not true. Trafford would be the first to insist that he is, indeed, a fool.”
Chuckling, Aidan shook his head at the ridiculous assertion he had just made. “I meant to say … he is an enterprising and gumptious fool.”
The two men fell into silence, their thoughts drifting toward their absent friend. Each, in his own way, admired the peculiar loyalty of Julius Trafford.
After a time, Aidan stirred. “And Michaels? You mentioned he had sustained an injury?”
“My butler,” Filminster replied with a sigh and a wry twist of his lips, “is a cantankerous old creature. The doctor advised rest, but he has taken that as a personal affront and is already back to patrolling the household, keeping everyone on edge.”
“What happened?” Aidan asked, curiosity piqued.