The Solitary Envoy (23 page)
“Dissenters,” Erica repeated. “The name of the people at church this day.”
“Precisely. They have been declared enemies of the realm. In times gone by, some of their numbers were hanged for treason, others deported to the Americas and Australia upon the worst of prison vessels. Nowadays the realm is more subtle in its condemnation. For a representative of a foreign nation to have contact with them, however, would still be considered an affront. I took the risk of visiting one of their churches, as this could happen for any number of reasons and because there was a matter of gravest urgency. I had hoped to meet a most remarkable gentleman by the name of William Wilberforce. Unfortunately he did not appear. Have you ever come across his name?”
“No, sir.”
“No matter. William Wilberforce is a thorn in the side of these rulers. He is a staunch Christian and a man who fights the good fight within the very Houses of Parliament. He leads the battle to eradicate the British slave trade. And he seeks a change in the morals of this land.” He turned so as to look down at her. “Gareth Powers is a principal spokesman of this movement. He has started a printing business that has made him one of the most powerful pamphleteers of this nation. His words are read in all the capitals of Europe and beyond. I have recently heard that the czar of Russia himself relies on Mr. Powers as a means of maintaining a connection with the pulse of Great Britain.”
Erica licked at dry lips. “You wish for me to make contact with Mr. Powers?”
Samuel returned to his seat. “First I would like you to tell me what precisely has transpired between you and this gentleman.”
She hesitated. “You have heard of my family’s difficulties?”
“Only the barest of facts. Something to do with a fire and the war.”
“Our problems actually began earlier, during the trade embargo.”
“Well can I understand. My own family suffered mightily.”
“My family was approached by a British merchant banker. He had recently acquired two ships and a substantial cargo, or so he claimed. He offered to sell all these goods to my father at prices we could scarcely afford to ignore. He had all the required permits. He promised swift delivery. In return, he demanded payment in advance, and in gold. We already had the money here in England, gathered from earlier transactions. Because of the embargo, it was difficult to transfer it back to America. We assumed this was why we were approached.”
“This merchant bank, it was the same one our embassy uses?”
“Indeed so. I first saw Mr. Bartholomew himself the night of my seventeenth birthday. The ships were long overdue at that point. He and my father argued. Something about Mr. Bartholomew’s attitude left us both certain that he was aware of the coming war.”
“And intended to use it to his advantage,” Samuel intoned. “Did the supplies ever arrive?”
“No, sir. Neither ship ever docked.”
“Did the bank repay the gold owed to you?”
“Not a penny.”
“Then perhaps they never meant to supply you at all.”
“Just so,” Erica solemnly agreed. “That and more.”
Samuel bolted upright. “You don’t mean to say they had a hand in your father’s demise?”
“Not directly, no.” The resurrection of all the old wounds only added to her weariness. “But new evidence that Mr. Powers gave me this morning suggests things I am only beginning to fathom.”
She recounted what Gareth had told her about the battalion’s unlit firebrands.
Samuel pondered this at length before saying, “All I have heard about this Gareth Powers suggests he is a man of his word.”
“I believe him,” Erica quietly agreed.
“Which means someone else started this fire. And instigated this multiple tragedy that has besieged your family.” He turned to the window and mused, “The Bartholomew Merchant Bank is closely allied to the prince regent and his court. As unscrupulous a band as ever I have known.”
They sat for a long moment in silence. Finally Samuel shifted in his seat and said, “You know we will do all in our power to assist you in your efforts to reclaim your family’s gold.”
“Sir, I cannot thank—”
His upraised hand silenced her. “I would ask a favor of you, Miss Langston. Between friends. We shall do away with the attempt to express what words will always fail to articulate. And that is the gratitude between friends.”
“Between friends,” she solemnly agreed, though she had to fight the words through a suddenly constricted throat.
“Know that I shall endeavor to aid you whatever you decide in regard to this second request of mine. Had I known what reasons you held for despising this gentleman, I would not …” Itwas Samuel’s turn to hesitate. “No. I cannot say that. My need is so great, I would have asked in any case. But I understand if you cannot do this thing.”
“I will do it,” Erica said promptly.
“You do not understand. I am not asking for a single connection to be made. I do not merely wish for you to meet with this Dissenter movement or even just to speak with Wilberforce himself and sound the man out. I need an ongoing relationship. Just as I strive to be between this nation and our own.”
Lavinia Aldridge knocked upon the parlor’s open door. “Samuel, the dinner will soon be so overcooked as to be inedible.”
“How can that be?” He opened his watch again and cried, “Great heavens above, we have talked the day away!
“My sincere apologies, Lavinia. We will be only a moment more.”
“Very well.”
When Lavinia disappeared, Samuel continued, “All I can ask is that you think upon this request of mine.”
“I don’t need to,” Erica replied. “I will do it. Or at least try. If you truly think I am worthy of the charge.”
“My dear Miss Erica.” Samuel Aldridge smiled, such a rare occurrence that Erica found herself blushing. “I can think of no one on earth who would make a finer envoy.”
Samuel Aldridge carried himself with stern reserve. But Erica had been raised in the new nation’s capital. She knew all about men of detachment. Erica had long since decided that Samuel held himself back because people were constantly requesting favors and help he could not honestly grant. So he built walls. The deputy minister plenipotentiary also knew the temptation of power, where the entire world seemed eager to tell him just how grand he was, when in truth they merely saw the power he wielded. He accepted everything the public showed him through the lens of his very strong character and faith.
Lavinia, Erica could see, endured the public meetings and receptions and teas because she was required to do so, but she did not enjoy them. In truth, Lavinia was most herself at home. She loved nothing more than to sew and cook and tend her house and children. When the servants assigned cleaning duty in the embassy came up to assist in their private quarters, Lavinia did not protest, but Erica knew even this was an unwelcome presence. Over time Erica was realizing just how fortunate she was to have been accepted into the Aldridge family household.
On Monday morning Lavinia found Erica working in her husband’s upstairs office. She stood in the doorway for a time, bouncing Horace on her hip and observing the younger woman. “Am I disturbing you?”
“Never,” Erica replied and meant it sincerely.
“Our new governess is due to arrive tomorrow. I asked Abbie what she might like to do with her final day before beginning her lessons. She replied that she would like to take a tour of London and then have tea and cakes at the confectionery on Berkeley Street.”
“That sounds lovely.”
“Would you care to join us?”
“Me? But …”
“Abbie specifically said she would like to include you.”
“Then I would be delighted.”
Erica returned to her room and hastened to prepare for the outing.
There was a light tap on her door, and Abbie entered. “Mama said you are coming with us.”
“If you would like me to.”
“Of course.” Abbie walked over and seated herself in the room’s only chair. “Why do you keep it so plain in here?”
“What do you mean?”
“There are no pictures on the walls. You could put up some prettier curtains. You could have the extra bedspread Mama kept for my room when it got so cold last winter. It’s much prettier than this old thing.”
“But this is not my room.”
“Of course it is.”
“I am just a guest here, Abbie.”
The little girl became completely still. “Are you going to leave me?”
Erica turned from pinning up her hair. “Why, sometime.
You know that I must go home eventually.”
“But why can’t you stay and make this your home?”
“Because I have my own family waiting for me in America.”
“Do you miss them?”
“Very much.”
“What are they like?”
“My mother is, well, in many ways she is like your grandmother Abigail.”
“Then I would like your mother, Miss Erica. I think my grandmother is the finest person in the whole wide world, after Mama and Papa.”
“And my brother is the nicest young man God ever made, with a smile that makes me laugh just looking at him.”
Abbie watched Erica take the powder puff and dab at her nose. “Why do you do that?”
“To hide my freckles.”
“I don’t see any.”
“They are on my nose. I think they make me look ugly.”
“I have freckles. Lots more than you do.”
“That’s because you have a redhead’s fair skin.”
“Are my freckles ugly?”
“Of course not. They look beautiful.”
“But how can they look beautiful on me and ugly on you?”
Erica set down the powder puff and looked more intently at her reflection. “I suppose,” she said slowly, “I have never much cared for my face. Particularly my nose.”
“I think you are beautiful.” Abbie tucked her feet up on the chair’s edge and pulled her long dress over her shoes. “Why don’t you like your nose?”
“It is very straight, you see. I think it makes me look severe. And men like small, dainty noses.” Erica took one finger and mashed her nose down flat. “I used to do this when I was your age. I thought if I pushed my nose down hard enough and long enough it would stop growing. But it didn’t work.”
“Mama says you have a very intelligent-looking face. And Papa calls you a striking young woman.”
Erica found herself blushing. She turned away from the mirror. “They said no such thing.”
“Oh yes they did. I heard Papa say it again last night.” Abbie watched as Erica stepped into her dress and began doing up the long row of cloth buttons.
“I can do your last buttons if you like.”
“Thank you.” She stepped across the room to where Abbie now stood upon the chair.
“Mama says she envies you your hair.”
Erica touched the dark tresses. “It is always falling down. I can never seem to make all the pins stay in their proper place.”
“Mama says you should leave it down over one shoulder.
Or double it up behind your back.”
“What else does Mama say?”
“She says a lovely bright silk ribbon woven into your hair would do wonders. Your hair is so thick, you see. Mama wishes she had such thick hair. And she worries because she has seen some gray. She says it’s from joy over being so blessed with me and my brother. I think it’s because she’s kept up all hours of the night with Horace’s crying. Mama says I fret almost as much as he does. But I know that’s not true.”
Erica waited until the last button was done up, then returned to her mirror. She had always worn her hair up because that was how her mother wanted it. But in truth she had never much cared either for how it looked or how it concentrated all the weight of her hair at the top and back of her head. Slowly she raised her hands. She hesitated a long moment.
“What are you doing?”
“Thinking.” She removed one long hairpin. Then another. The curls seemed to spring out as though liberated. “Would you please ask your mother if I might borrow a ribbon?”
When the three emerged from the rear of the embassy they found the carriage had been brought around back, and Jacob Harwell was there waiting for them.
“A very good morning to you, ma’am. Miss Langston.”
Abbie demanded, “Aren’t you going to greet me too?”
“Of course, my lovely young miss.” He smiled at the young girl. “You look as bright as a new penny this morning.”
“My mother is taking me for a drive. We are going to see all of London and then have a grand tea with cakes.”
“So your father has informed me. I was wondering if I might be permitted to ride along and enjoy the day.”
Lavinia stepped forward and allowed the sweep of her skirt to come between them and Abbie. She asked quietly, “More troubles?”
“None that we are aware of, ma’am,” Jacob said, all too brightly. “But Mr. Aldridge felt it might be wise all the same.”
“Of course. We are grateful for your company and sorry to draw you from more important duties.”
“Think nothing of it, ma’am. It’s a slow day, and that’s the honest truth.”
He bowed Lavinia on board, swept up Abbie and lifted her into the carriage, then turned and offered Erica his hand. “The minister is most pleased with your work, Miss Langston.”
She blushed, not from his words so much as from the look in his eyes. “Mr. Aldridge is too gracious.” As she was entering the carriage, Erica inquired, “Would you mind terribly if we went by Grosvenor Square on our way? I wish to see something. And, well—” Erica hesitated, then blurted out—“I feel that Mr. Aldridge has laid a great trust upon me, and I do not wish to start by ignoring it this very first day.”
Lavinia seemed to find nothing amiss with that. Instead she said to Jacob, “Be so kind as to ask the driver to take us by the new house.”
“Of course, ma’am. With your permission, I’ll ride up top where I can keep an eye out.”
They rumbled through the manor’s front gates, turned right on Piccadilly, and carried on to the same turning they had made on their way to church. They passed Audley Chapel, then farther on entered into a broad square of green and sheltering elms. A grand manor anchored the end closest to Hyde Park, with two others standing directly opposite. Several townhouses were under construction along the two remaining sides.