A New Course
The next evening, Frederick Wentworth adjusted his neckcloth for the third time, frowning at his reflection in the small mirror.
His civilian clothes felt strange after years in uniform.
“This blue coat was the latest in fashion when we left Bath five years ago. Now it might be the style of stable hands and gardeners, for all we know.”
“You look perfectly presentable,” Anne assured him from where she sat by the fire.
She was dressed in one of the few gowns Llewellyn had been able to alter to accommodate her more generous figure.
For her, the style was not the problem but the colour.
“Both of us wearing blue will be commented upon.”
“It is not our appearance that concerns me,” Wentworth admitted, turning from the mirror. “I find I am generally unsettled about this meeting.”
“The admiral is family,” Anne reminded him gently. “This is not a court martial.”
“No, but we seem to have expectations, and he may be here merely to hoist a glass to Edward and talk only about old times.” He checked his pocket watch. “The carriage should arrive shortly. Are you certain you feel strong enough for this outing? I can still send word for Paddy to join us here.”
“I am well enough for dinner at a hotel merely streets away,” she replied with quiet determination. “And I confess I have missed proper society after weeks at sea.”
A knock at their door interrupted them. Wentworth opened it, expecting to find a messenger announcing their carriage. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with Patrick McGillvary. And just behind his left shoulder was Mrs McGillvary.” Where is my sister?” she called out.
“Surprise, my boy!” Patrick boomed, clapping Wentworth on the shoulder as he entered without waiting for an invitation. “Thought we’d save you the trouble of venturing out!”
“Elizabeth!” Anne’s voice held genuine delight as she carefully rose from her chair.
“Sit, sit!” Elizabeth hurried to her sister, embracing her gently before urging her back into her seat. “You mustn’t exert yourself.” She turned to Wentworth with a warm smile. “Captain, you look well, if somewhat astonished.”
“I had not expected—”
“Of course you hadn’t.” Mrs McGillvary removed her gloves with practised efficiency.
“It was all the admiral’s idea to surprise you.
When his business brought him to Plymouth, I already knew of your arrival, and I insisted on accompanying him.
” She turned to Anne. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering dinner to be brought up.
No woman wants to be a showpiece just after having a child. ”
“That’s most thoughtful,” Anne said. All her assurances had been lies as her entire countenance spoke of relief.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Elizabeth continued, her tone brooking no argument, “my sister and I have a great deal to discuss. Patrick has reserved a private parlour downstairs where you may enjoy your port and business talk without fatiguing us with the details.”
Patrick grinned at Wentworth’s bemused expression. “Best not to argue, Freddy. I’ve learnt that much in these few years of marriage.”
“Go on, gentlemen. Your dinner awaits.” Elizabeth was already removing her bonnet and settling beside Anne as if she had been there for hours. “Now, where is my new nephew? I insist on seeing him immediately.”
In the private parlour downstairs, Wentworth and McGillvary took their seats, with a decanter of excellent port between them. The room was quiet compared to the busy main dining area of the hotel, the fire crackling in the grate.
“Elizabeth has wanted to see Anne since we received word of your hasty departure from Minorca,” McGillvary explained as he poured generous measures for them both. “When my business brought me to Plymouth, there was no stopping her.”
Wentworth admitted, “I am glad of it. Anne has missed female companionship these past weeks. Llewellyn is capable but hardly a substitute for a sister.”
“And how fare the new parents?” McGillvary asked, his tone more serious.
“Better each day, though things were difficult for her. There was a time when I feared—” Wentworth would not give voice to his private dread.
McGillvary nodded understanding. “I nearly lost Liz with Gwendolyn. That raw fear changes a man.”
“It does,” Wentworth agreed, grateful that his friend understood without requiring elaboration.
The soup was consumed in companionable silence. During the fish course, sole and shrimp, on a bed of greens, McGillvary came right to the point. “I hear you’ve been engaged in the time-honoured tradition of being shuffled from office to office without any satisfactory answers.”
Wentworth chose not to ask how he had come to know this. “You’ve heard correctly. It seems my years of service count for precious little now that we’re so many years into the peace.”
“It is the way of things,” McGillvary observed, though without the dismissive tone Wentworth had encountered from the Admiralty officials. “War expands and peace contracts. Merit matters during the former; connexions during the latter.”
“So I have discovered.”
“And your connexions are…?”
“Limited,” Wentworth said. “I have never been one to cultivate patrons or court favour.”
“No, that was always my role.” McGillvary chuckled. “You were too busy being capable to be political. That, my boy, is a fatal flaw in most careers, much less a naval career.”
The conversation drifted to mutual acquaintances.
Astonishment at fools receiving choice commands and dismay at skilled men who got nothing more than half-pay.
And taking note of those who had left the service entirely.
Those with influential connexions moved up the ladder, and those with none languished without assignments.
This was the depressingly consistent pattern.
A prime cut of beef turned the discussion to how rare fresh meat was aboard ship.
After an awkward silence, McGillvary said, “I’ve been overseeing several investments.
I never told you, but I started with a small shipping interest. It was best to start with something I was familiar with. Things have expanded considerably.”
“Into railways, I believe I have heard,” Wentworth recalled.
“Heard where?” His fork paused midair.
“You are not the only one who hears things,” Frederick said, slicing through the beef like it was butter.
“Have your secrets. The business with the railroad is for fun. For now,” McGillvary confirmed.
“Iron works in Sheffield, a promising gasworks in Bristol, and a few others. The future of England lies in steam and iron, Frederick. The wars may be over, but a different sort of conquest has begun. And I intend for the McGillvary family to be leading the charge.”
Wentworth nodded politely, though such matters seemed far removed from his experience. “You appear to have navigated these waters successfully.”
“With mixed results,” McGillvary admitted candidly. “I’ve made my share of mistakes. Which is precisely why I find myself in need of a partner with sound judgement and a steady hand.”
The proposition laid bare. Wentworth carved a potato, buying time to consider his response.
“I know nothing of trade,” he said finally.
“That is not so. A captain runs a business as surely as I do. He buys food, lumber, and such to keep the ship in repair, and he employs countless men to sail and work aboard her. That is a business, my friend. Most importantly, you know how to maintain discipline and order in chaotic circumstances.” McGillvary leant forwards.
“All this is as valuable in commerce as it is on a quarterdeck, Frederick.”
“Perhaps,” Wentworth conceded. “But there is a vast body of knowledge I would lack, such as financial matters, legal considerations, and the peculiarities of various industries.”
“Nonsense. You are one of the few men I know who never cheated his muster rolls, who kept true accounts, and made his purser do the same. All of these are fundamental qualities of good judgement. And that, my friend, you possess in abundance.”
This made him sound like a sweet old nursery maid. It was worth considering though. “What precisely would such a partnership entail? My duties and responsibilities?”
“Initially, oversight of our shipping interests. Simple enough. Eventually, I will position you in more of the other areas.” He scratched the cloth and tapped his finger.
“You will come to love trains, my boy. They are not viable just yet, but there are clever fellows working on the engines and I mean to be a part of this new endeavour. I am talking to men who swear to me that travelling more than forty miles an hour is plausible.”
“That is ridiculous.” The idea of such a thing was unfathomable.
“Don’t be too sure. Regardless, you will meet some interesting chaps with sometimes strange and fanciful ideas. But if they come to fruition…” Paddy mopped up the last of the gravy with the last bite of beef. “A share of the profits, naturally, proportional to your contribution.”
“And location? Where would we live?”
“Bath, ideally, where the main offices are established. Though there would be travel required. London mostly, but to the various investment sites, and occasionally abroad.”
Wentworth found himself intrigued. Not the business details, which remained speculative, but providing for his family while utilising at least some of his abilities was tempting. Very much so.
“It is a generous offer,” he acknowledged. “But I must ask—why me? Surely there are men with more experience in business affairs who would jump at such an opportunity.”
McGillvary set down his wine glass and regarded Wentworth with unusual seriousness.
“Because I trust you, Frederick. Trust your judgement, your sense of duty. These qualities are rarer in the world of commerce then you might imagine.” He paused.
“And because I remember what it was like to leave and to feel adrift, purposeless, as if your life had become worthless.”