CHAPTER 10
“So, what do you think, Wrex?” asked Sheffield.
The lecture had ended, and while most of the audience had crowded around the stage, eager to ask Maitland more questions about his work, Wrexford and Sheffield had exited the auditorium and found an empty study room at the rear of the building.
“I think,” replied the earl, “that Maitland displayed an impressive knowledge of scientific developments in his field of expertise. In addition, he clearly possesses an advanced skill of mathematics and an understanding of the physical laws governing speed and motion.”
Sheffield nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes—I thought the same thing—”
“But I haven’t quite finished, Kit,” interrupted Wrexford.
He then hesitated, wishing to choose his next words with care.
“Engineering is not my specialty, so it would be foolish of me to opine on whether his abstract concept of a marine propulsion system powerful enough to tame the world’s oceans is possible.
However, one would think the fellow would offer a modicum of empirical evidence to back up the assertions that he and Taviot’s consortium have made a momentous scientific breakthrough. ”
“I daresay he’s being extremely careful not to reveal proprietary knowledge,” replied Sheffield. “We both know the monetary value of patents on mechanical innovations. And given what recently happened at Maudslay’s laboratory, one can’t blame him for not saying too much about the specifics.”
“Those are fair points.” The earl hesitated. “Be that as it may, why did you ask me to come hear Maitland spout on about a new wave of progress that is about to change the world?”
In answer, his friend opened the portfolio case he was carrying and took out a sheaf of documents.
“Because Lord Taviot came to see me this morning. He overheard Lord Mulgrave mention that I was an early investor in Hedley’s Puffing Billy and offered me the opportunity to become a charter investor in his consortium’s venture. ”
Sheffield spread out the papers. “He also asked me to join the Advisory Board, which he says will make me a very rich man if the company is successful.”
Wrexford knew how sensitive Sheffield was about money—or the lack of it.
A younger son with no assets of his own, his friend had chafed for years under the iron-fisted grip of his parsimonious father, receiving naught but a pittance as an allowance.
In retaliation, he had indulged in rakehell excesses, which did neither himself nor his father any good.
“You are already quite prosperous, Kit,” pointed out the earl. “You and Cordelia, along with your two partners, have built a solid, reputable company that returns a handsome profit.”
“Yes.” Sheffield slowly let out a sigh. “But I’m not yet able to afford any meaningful tangible assets. Like land and a manor house—a place where one can set down roots, raise a family, and pass property on to future generations.”
He looked up, a martial light in his eyes. “I want to offer that possibility to Cordelia as a wedding present. It will take years before I can do that with my share of our profits from our shipping company.”
The earl blinked. Sheffield’s yearning made him damnably aware of how fickle life was.
Through a mere accident of birth, he had never wanted for anything.
As the eldest son, he had inherited a fortune and an earldom on his father’s death, along with a number of estates scattered across England and Scotland.
While my brother, the better man of us, was cruelly cut down before his life had really begun.
Ignoring the sudden stab of pain within his chest, Wrexford forced his attention back to the present moment.
“Far be it for me to insult your intelligence or your business acumen, which is far sharper than mine, Kit,” he finally said. “After all, I wasn’t smart enough to invest in Hedley’s Puffing Billy.”
Hedley’s prototype had not yet been developed into a viable commercial endeavor, but Sheffield had seen the potential and had purchased a number of shares in the company—and then had sold them at a great profit.
“However,” Wrexford continued, “I feel beholden to remind you that an investment in a new venture is not guaranteed to yield riches. The offer of great reward goes hand in hand with great risk. You could lose your entire investment.”
“I’m aware of that.” After glancing at the door to confirm that it was firmly shut, Sheffield stepped closer and lowered his voice. “But if it works . . .”
“If,” repeated Wrexford. “As I’ve pointed out, for all his impressive eloquence, Maitland has offered no actual scientific details to support his grandiose claims. And to my knowledge, Taviot has no scientific acumen.
” Indeed, the Scottish earl was said to be very skilled in the art of diplomacy, but a silvery tongue was no substitute for actual knowledge.
“So that would make me leery . . .”
Wrexford had already glanced at the papers on the table and seen the names listed on the preliminary Advisory Board. “But then again, this proposal clearly shows that they have convinced some very prominent people that Maitland and the consortium have the ability to do what they say they can do.”
Sheffield’s expression brightened. “Precisely! So doesn’t that say something about it being a reasonable risk?”
The earl released a slow breath. He didn’t wish to throw cold water on his friend’s dreams. But there were enough unanswered questions about the endeavor to make him uneasy.
“Not exactly,” he replied. “Do keep in mind that your friend Maudslay is considered a genius at engineering. And if he hasn’t yet discovered the secret to crafting a successful engine, then perhaps it is prudent to ask how Maitland has triumphed where a leading luminary in the field has failed.”
“Even a visionary like Maudslay can be wrong on occasion,” retorted Sheffield.
“As I recall, everyone thought the American Robert Fulton was a madman when he suggested that steam could power a boat. All the so-called experts insisted that the concept was not only dangerous but impossible. And yet Fulton proved all the naysayers wrong. His steamboat runs on a regular schedule up and down the North River from New York City to Albany, undaunted by wind and currents. And as it has proved faster and more dependable than a sailing vessel, it’s proving a financial success. ”
Wrexford conceded the point with a nod.
“You are the one who is always telling me that innovation rarely follows a straight line,” pressed his friend. “So perhaps Maitland is right in implying that he’s a greater genius than Maudslay.”
“What does Cordelia think?” asked the earl. “You are about to be married, which is an even more important partnership than your business relationship.”
“She is dead set against the idea,” muttered Sheffield. “But if she doesn’t trust my judgment . . .” His jaw tightened. “What sort of way is that to begin a life together?”
How to answer? Sheffield and Cordelia’s relationship had been fraught with challenges. They each had vulnerabilities that stirred inner doubts. All their friends could see that they were perfect for each other. But the only thing that mattered was how they saw themselves.
“Disagreement doesn’t mean she doesn’t trust your judgment. Quite the contrary, in fact. She trusts that you will listen to her objections and that the two of you will come to a decision together.”
Sheffield’s expression turned mulish.
“I’m simply suggesting that you ask yourself hard questions before making a financial commitment, Kit.
It’s an important decision for you and your future.
” Acutely aware of not wanting to push his friend one way or the other, he added, “The fact that you are asking my opinion says to me that you are clearly uncertain of whether this feels right to you. Why not gather more empirical information on the subject? For a start, we can go upstairs and have a chat with Hedley, who understands the concept of steam power as well as anyone.”
A breeze wafted through the half-open window, and a shadow cast by the fluttering draperies hid his friend’s expression.
“All I’m saying is that it’s always best not to rush into a momentous decision,” he added. “So that it doesn’t blow up in your face.”
* * *
“Don’t wipe those sticky fingers on your breeches,” warned the dowager as she offered Hawk a napkin. “We don’t wish for the ladies and gentlemen strolling down Bond Street to think that you boys are wild savages.”
“We don’t?” sniggered Raven, which earned a chortle from Peregrine.
Alison arched her brows. “Would you like for me to purchase a bag of Pontefract cakes before we head to the parade grounds?”
“Yes!” Hawk, who was very fond of the sweetened licorice disks, nudged his brother. “Of course we would.”
“Well, then, I’m sure you’ll agree it’s important to both look and behave like proper gentlemen when we take our places to watch the military maneuvers.”
“Wrex says that being a proper gentleman is vastly overrated,” responded Raven, a saucy grin playing at the corners of his mouth.
“When you are his age, you may say the same thing.” Alison waggled her cane. “But until then—”
“Until then,” intoned Raven, “we must behave like boring little nitwits.”
The dowager stifled an unladylike snort. “I would be happy if you refrain from any unholy mischief—like throwing a stink bomb into the formation of cavalry horses and causing a stampede.”
Raven and Hawk exchanged guilty looks.
“Perhaps you should empty your pockets and have the serving maid dispose of any questionable items while I stop for the sweets,” ordered Alison.