Chapter 25 #2
The response elicited a peal of laughter. “Thank heavens you’re not another one of those pasteboard ladies who are terrified of showing a hint of individuality in case they reveal that they have a brain—and a sense of humor.”
“You appear to have a very dim view of our sex,” murmured Charlotte.
“Not at all!” assured Mrs. Ainsley. “I think we are every bit as capable of rational thought as the opposite sex. We simply have to be brave enough to believe in ourselves.” A pause. “Though of course, we must be wise and sensible about how we go about using our intellect.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that.” Charlotte looked around at the other guests. “I daresay, we often must be even cleverer than gentlemen in order to navigate the strictures on our behavior, so that we may develop our own interests without causing a scandal.”
“Precisely.” A smile. “I confess, it’s a pleasure to be able to speak frankly with another lady.
I must spend a good deal of my time talking about inane fripperies with the wives of my husband’s colleagues.
” She seemed to hesitate, perhaps fearing that she was being too candid.
“But duty is important, so I am not complaining.”
“You might be interested in joining a salon for intellectually minded ladies that I occasionally attend,” said Charlotte, and went on to tell her hostess about the bimonthly evening meetings at Lady Thirkell’s townhouse.
“I think you would be pleasantly surprised at how many ladies have extraordinary intellects and aren’t afraid to use them. ”
Mrs. Ainsley’s eyes widened in interest. “Why, thank you. That’s very intriguing. I—I should very much like to consider it.”
“I will send you a note with the address and the dates, as well as an introduction to Lady Thirkell.”
“How kind—” began Mrs. Ainsley, only to be interrupted by a scowling gentleman.
“Clarissa!” He gave a gruff nod to Charlotte. “And Lady Wrexford. How fortuitous to find the two of you together.”
He looked vaguely familiar, but Charlotte couldn’t place him.
“Ah, it seems that you are acquainted with my brother, Philip Stoneham, milady,” responded Mrs. Ainsley. “But then, I believe he’s a colleague of your husband at the Royal Institution.”
“Indeed, we’ve met at several receptions,” responded Charlotte politely, though privately wondering why her presence would matter a whit to him.
However, that question was quickly answered.
“Clarissa, do help me convince Lady Wrexford to intercede with her husband on my behalf,” he said in a rush.
Mrs. Ainsley raised her brows. “Philip, this is a social occasion—”
“This is vitally important, both to your husband and our nation,” he interjected.
“Then I am, of course, quite willing to listen,” said Charlotte, not wishing to cause any embarrassment.
Her hostess gave a quick look that mingled both apology and gratitude. “Then do go on, Philip—but succinctly if you please.”
Stoneham cleared his throat. “I am working with Sir William Congreve on his personal project to perfect a new technology to create the Inimitable Banknote, milady. Key to our success is developing the right technique for hardening the surface of low carbon steel,” he explained.
“Lord Wrexford visited my workspace at the Royal Arsenal for an overview of my work and promised to return and consult with me on certain complex chemical questions.”
He blew out an aggrieved sigh. “But he now says his responsibilities don’t allow him to do so. I certainly respect that His Lordship has other commitments, but in truth, I’m not sure he comprehends how important this is to King and Country.”
“I assure you, Wrexford does take this matter very seriously,” said Charlotte. “But—”
“I don’t see how there can be any buts about it, milady,” interrupted Stoneham. “Given what’s at stake, it’s hard to imagine an issue more pressing than our country’s financial security.”
“Philip, you are treading perilously close to rudeness,” cautioned Mrs. Ainsley, the softness of her voice edged with a note of steel.
A flush rose to Stoneham’s cheeks. “Forgive me, Lady Wrexford. I meant no offense. Allow me to explain …”
At Charlotte’s nod, he was quick to continue.
“There are rumors that the American inventor, Jacob Perkins, has made a breakthrough in the type of metallurgy required for siderography printing. But I—and a great many other men of science in this country—agree with Sir Joseph Banks that our banknotes should be printed by British citizens using British innovations.”
Stoneham paused for effect. “Congreve and I—with your husband’s counsel, of course—wish to be the ones to make that momentous discovery for the good of the nation.”
And for achieving your own shining star in the firmament of scientific discovery? thought Charlotte.
Perhaps she was being a trifle cynical about his motives.
As for Sir William Congreve’s personal endeavor—Wrexford had mentioned to her that he was working on the banknote project as an inventor, not in his official position as the comptroller of the Royal Laboratory at Woolwich—she wished to hear Wrexford’s thoughts on what he had seen during his visit to Stoneham’s workplace within the Royal Arsenal complex.
“As I said, sir, I shall gladly pass all this information to my husband,” she responded.
“And now, enough science and technology. I wish to show Lady Wrexford the set of botanical watercolors by Pierre-Joseph Redouté that I recently purchased.” Mrs. Ainsley gave a brusque wave to where Manchester was conversing with Sheffield, making it clear that her brother’s appeal was now at an end.
“Go join Damien, who is always happy to rattle on with you about lathes and engraving.”
“Manchester knows nothing about science and bores me to the devil with his opinions on art,” replied Stoneham. “But I know he is Ainsley’s dear friend, so I will be polite.”
“I’m afraid manners are not my brother’s strong suit,” said Lady Ainsley once she and Charlotte had moved away.
“Families are complicated. Please don’t apologize.” Charlotte smiled in understanding and then quickly sought to banish the lingering awkwardness. “I happen to dabble in watercolors, so I am very much looking forward to seeing your newly acquired paintings. Redouté is a great favorite of mine.”
“Ah, then you must visit Mr. Manchester’s art emporium,” replied Mrs. Ainsley as she led the way through an archway and turned down a side corridor. “He possesses exquisite taste and has assembled a very fine selection of watercolors from the Continent.”