Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

M r Stretton's butler showed the three friends into the library and offered them drinks. Rob took a glass of claret, and sipped it while he browsed the bookshelves. Their host arrived a few minutes later; Moorven introduced Chadwick, and Mr Stretton shook his hand cordially.

"My daughter will be with us in a few moments. I'm afraid my wife is not feeling well enough to join us, so we will be just five to dinner."

Almost as he spoke, Miss Stretton entered. Rob tried not to stare as he took in the way her pale green gown outlined her figure. Her hair was looser this evening, small curls framing her face and falling from a knot on the back of her head.

"Good evening, gentlemen."

She did have a lovely smile.

"Ah, Jo." Mr Stretton waited until she reached him. "This is Lieutenant Chadwick."

"Miss Stretton." Chadwick bowed. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance. The materials you sent us were most gratefully received."

"You are very welcome, Lieutenant."

"Shall we go through, gentlemen?" Mr Stretton said. "As there are so few of us, conversation will be as easy around the table as it is here."

Rob was glad of the suggestion—he would feel more at ease with the serving of food and passing of dishes to break any awkward silences. He wasn't sure what Mr Stretton wanted with him; Chadwick had engineering skills that an investor might find useful, and Moorven had connections. What would he have to say that he hadn't already said in his two previous meetings with his host?

Mr Stretton offered his arm to his daughter and led the way. The dining room held a polished wooden table long enough to seat twenty, but the five places had all been set at one end. Mr Stretton took the head of the table, with Miss Stretton and Moorven in the next places. Rob ended up next to Moorven, across the table from Miss Stretton. As food and wine were served, the conversation started with the usual remarks about hoping everyone was well, and how wet the weather was for the time of year.

Mr Stretton turned to Chadwick once everyone had filled their plates. "I understand you are interested in canals, Lieutenant?"

"That is one possibility I am considering, sir, for when I leave the army. My father wishes me to join his business, but I would prefer a more challenging occupation, if I can get the work."

"What is your father's business?"

"He owns a cotton mill in Lancashire. He concentrates on prices and markets rather than investigating the benefits of more efficient spinning frames or looms. It is those more technical matters that would interest me."

Mr Stretton nodded. "I am considering investing in cotton, although my present focus is a new canal project. However, Jo had some questions about the predicted profits."

As Chadwick's brows rose, Rob quickly spoke. "I think Miss Stretton read some of the books she sent us, John."

"Thank you, Captain." Miss Stretton's smile held amusement. "My query was not based on engineering knowledge, however, but merely on a comparison of this proposal with other, completed, schemes. It appears to be overly optimistic in some respects. "

"I am willing to give any advice I can, naturally." Chadwick said, his gaze moving from Miss Stretton to her father.

"What did you do in the army, Lieutenant?" Jo asked, not offended that Chadwick didn't yet take her seriously. "Besides, er, building bridges, I suppose? If you don't mind talking about it, that is."

"Not at all. When it came to bridges, my task was mainly blowing them up. And myself, unfortunately. Not a good recommendation for a future employer."

Captain Delafield shook his head with a smile, and Jo guessed it wasn't the first time that comment had been made. "I doubt there is much demand now for people to demolish bridges under battle conditions," he said. "John, tell them what you really did."

"I wouldn't want to bore a lady?—"

"You will not," Jo interrupted crisply, and blushed as both Captain Delafield and Lieutenant Moorven grinned. She really must try to control her tongue, even though she felt a little put out at Lieutenant Chadwick's words. But she was being unfair—most men of her acquaintance would have said exactly the same thing.

The lieutenant looked uncomfortable. "My apologies, Miss Stretton. I did not intend to imply you would not understand, although many… my sisters, at least, would not?—"

"My sisters would be bored witless," Captain Delafield interrupted.

"It's quite all right, Lieutenant," Jo said. "I took no offence, and you will not bore me."

"Thank you, Miss Stretton." He cast a baleful look at the amused faces of the other two. "A lot of the time is spent surveying ahead of the army, assessing whether roads are suitable for the artillery and supply wagons, for example, or finding where rivers can be forded. And also building temporary bridges."

"To replace the ones you blew up?" Jo asked.

Lieutenant Chadwick laughed. "That was often the case, I'm afraid. "

"And one of the first men into the breach at a siege is usually an engineer, showing the rest of us the way," Captain Delafield added.

Lieutenant Chadwick smiled. "Not me, I always happened to be elsewhere at the time. Probably why I'm still alive."

That reminded Jo of the painting she had seen at the exhibition, and she wondered that these men could joke about such death and destruction. She nodded her thanks for the information.

Papa took over, and turned to Lieutenant Moorven. "Do you have ambitions beyond the Navy, Lieutenant?"

"My duty will be with the title and estates when I inherit, although I hope that is some time off. But that does mean the Navy cannot be my permanent occupation. Besides, being incarcerated for three years means I have lost seniority…"

Jo stopped listening properly as Lieutenant Moorven mentioned the resentment that was possible when a superior officer considered himself the social inferior of a subordinate. Across the table from her, Captain Delafield turned his wine glass in his fingers and stared into its red depths with a rather brooding expression. He might be uncertain about his own future, for most of the skills required of an infantry officer would not be of much use in civilian life. Of course, that was why he was interested in the technical books she had sent.

He looked up and saw she was watching him. His expression changed from brooding to politely enquiring, and she blushed. She should be thinking about her own future with Alfred, not what Captain Delafield would do with his time. He was a friend, though, so it should not be improper to think about it. Should it?

Rob turned his gaze away. Miss Stretton's blush gave an attractive colour to her cheeks, but he hadn't intended to embarrass her. Moorven's talk about his future moved on to a discussion of art. It was not something Rob had ever taken much interest in, other than appreciating the watercolours done by his sisters, which had adorned the walls of his childhood home. Both Mr Stretton and Moorven sounded knowledgeable about techniques as well as styles of painting, and so did Miss Stretton when she joined in.

"Do you paint, Miss Stretton?" Rob asked.

She shook her head with a rueful smile. "I have had the requisite lessons, but lacked the motivation to develop my skills. It seemed pointless when there are talented artists who can produce much better results than I ever could. I do enjoy looking at paintings, though."

Mr Stretton glanced around the table. "If you have finished eating, gentlemen, would you care to see some of the paintings we have acquired?" He waved a hand to where a decanter of port and glasses awaited them on the sideboard. "Do bring further refreshment with you."

Glasses in hand, they followed Miss Stretton into a parlour, decorated in feminine soft colours. She stopped in front of a moonlit seascape. "This is one of my favourites—I feel I could almost be there in that tiny boat."

Rob inspected the painting. "I should imagine it takes a great deal of skill to make the reflections on water so realistic."

"Indeed. There is so much detail." Miss Stretton leaned closer, and Rob inhaled a faint scent of lavender. He stepped away, thinking that accepting Stretton's dinner invitation might have been a mistake. It was bad enough imagining someone he liked being tied to Bengrove; it would not do to become attracted to her person as well as her mind.

Become attracted? It was too late for that. It was just as well that he was unlikely to be in her company again after this evening.

They left Chadwick inspecting the reflections, and moved on to other landscapes and portraits. Rob kept his distance, listening while the Strettons and Moorven talked. He couldn't help wondering what Bengrove would have made of this evening's conversation. He doubted the man would know much about art, and couldn't imagine him being willing to learn.

How had Bengrove persuaded Miss Stretton to marry him?

Rob's belief that he would not see Miss Stretton again was shattered as the three of them took their leave later that evening. Mr Stretton arranged for Chadwick to call the next morning, then turned to Rob.

"Why don't you come tomorrow with Lieutenant Chadwick, Captain? The queries my daughter has on the canal project may not all be due to technical matters, and two heads are usually better than one."

He shouldn't accept; it would do him no good see more of her. On the other hand, this could help him to work out what he wanted to do next. "I… well…"

"Of course he'll come," Chadwick said, resting one hand on Rob's shoulder. "We'll see you tomorrow, Mr Stretton, Miss Stretton."

Rob could only make his bow and follow Chadwick as he limped off in the direction of the nearest hackney.

Jo was ready long before the appointed time the next morning. Two copies of the canal prospectus lay ready on the desk, together with other papers she had gathered. She was nervous at the prospect of having to explain her concerns to someone other than her father—this would be the first time she'd had any public involvement in Papa's investment decisions.

Well, it wasn't really ‘public'. And Captain Delafield understood her interest, at least; she wasn't sure about Lieutenant Chadwick.

The two men arrived promptly at ten, and Chivenor showed them into the library. As they sat in the chairs around Papa's desk, they both looked as uneasy as she felt. Captain Delafield began to read the copy of the prospectus that Papa gave him, but Lieutenant Chadwick sat with the papers in his hand.

"Is something wrong, Lieutenant?" Papa asked.

Jo wondered if he objected to discussing technical matters with a woman, but his hesitation turned out to be a question of his own competence, not hers.

"No, sir," he said. "I just wanted to ensure you are aware that I have no expertise in the construction or operation of canals. I cannot provide you with a professional opinion on this matter."

"I believe you have experience supervising the digging of trenches, Lieutenant. You can give me an informed opinion on the digging of a canal, can you not?"

"Yes, I should think so."

Papa nodded. "Very well. Jo, will you explain?"

She took a deep breath. "Firstly, the prospectus does not make a clear case that there will be the amount of traffic necessary to generate the proposed income. I am also concerned about the costs." Jo took some papers from the pile on the desk. "These completed projects are of a similar size, and this is a summary of the costs and distances involved in all three projects. This new prospectus seems rather optimistic."

As they examined her notes and compared them to the prospectus for the new project, Jo felt as if a lesson she had completed was being assessed.

"I see what you mean," Lieutenant Chadwick said, after what seemed an age. "Optimistic indeed, unless there is a local supply of stone and other materials that would reduce the building costs." He addressed his reply to somewhere between her and Papa.

"There is no mention of that in the prospectus," Jo replied. "I would expect such an advantage to be mentioned."

Captain Delafield looked at her. "Miss Stretton, could the costs be explained if the proposers are expecting to have very cheap labour?"

Jo drew her notes closer, pleased that the captain had replied to her directly. Papa respected her opinions on these matters, but this was the first time someone else had. "If the number of men needed per mile is similar to those needed on these completed projects, I think it would almost have to be slave labour, Captain."

He turned to the front of the prospectus again. "This was written before the news of the fall of Paris. Could they have anticipated there being discharged soldiers desperate enough to work for very low wages? "

"It was fairly clear by February that the war would soon end, was it not?" Jo asked. "I remember thinking so at the time.

"Yes, but to assume both victory and a reduction in the number of regiments within a few months is optimistic indeed."

"It is possible that the likely profits have been overstated," Papa said. "It is also possible that there may be some explanation for what seems to be unfounded optimism, and this could be a viable investment. That is why I suggested that both of you investigate, if you are willing. I will, naturally, give you suitable recompense for your trouble."

Captain Delafield looked pleased, but made a protest. "I cannot take a fee, sir. I am wholly unqualified for this task."

"Nor I, sir," Lieutenant Chadwick said.

"Common sense is all I require, gentlemen," Papa replied. "And a certain knowledge of human nature, which I suspect your army careers have given you. Very well, but I will refund all your expenses. Whatever they are," he added with a smile.

The two men looked at each other, then Lieutenant Chadwick nodded. "It will take several days to inspect the proposed route, and some time to make local enquiries."

"In addition to travelling time," Papa said. "Shall we say three weeks? I'd prefer a report in person, rather than merely a written communication, but we will be staying at Yelden Court in Hampshire by then—my brother-in-law's home. It's about six miles north of Winchester."

"We can report to you there," Lieutenant Chadwick agreed.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Papa said. "I look forward to hearing the results of your investigation."

"Thank you, sir. Miss Stretton." Captain Delafield stood and made his bow; his friend did likewise.

"Well, Jo?" Papa said, when they had taken their leave. "What do you think of our new advisors?"

"I will be interested to learn what they find."

But ‘interested' didn't describe her feelings. She was pleased—no, happy—that they had taken her seriously, and also relieved that she hadn't made a silly mistake with her figures and reasoning. How embarrassing that would have been, particularly after Captain Delafield had taken his friend to task last night for assuming she would not be interested in technical matters.

"Indeed. And it will be pleasant for Alfred to have his friends at Yelden. He cannot be in your company all the time, no matter how much he might wish it."

That tempered her mood a little; Alfred did not regard Captain Delafield as a friend, so a meeting between them could be awkward. And how much did Alfred wish to be in her company? "I have had no word from Alfred since he sent his excuses. And we are setting off for Yelden soon." They would arrive a couple of weeks before the other guests to give Mama plenty of time to rest after the journey.

"Don't fret about it, Jo. There will be time enough for you to get reacquainted in Hampshire."