She was very popular and was to have her own come-out ball that Season which his mourning precluded him from attending, a source of great regret to him. She had laughingly told him that she expected several offers of marriage on that occasion, which was probably no less than the truth, for she was a viscount’s daughter whose dowry was said to be considerable.
He told himself that the dowry had not been a factor; he wanted her for herself. Afraid of losing her, he had proposed at the picnic and been accepted. All London knew of it, though they had postponed the announcement until he should be out of mourning and had brought his finances about. It was a matter of pride, he had told her; he would not have it said he married her for her money.
It was that more than anything which had made him look seriously at the idea of trading with India and Bertie, who had once been a seagoing man, had introduced him to Captain Joseph Greenaway. The Captain had served throughout the war, but was on half-pay, a state of affairs he had been anxious to remedy. He had a little prize money saved, and Dominic put in all the money he could scrape together, to lease a brig with its crew and pay for a cargo. It had been a gamble, but a gamble that had turned out well.
That first voyage had made a good profit so he had handed the bulk of it back for a second trip, and now here was the Silken Maid, home again with yet another cargo. If they went on like this they would soon be able to buy the ship. A fleet of ships!
He turned the diamond over in his hand, smiling at his own fantasy. ‘This will make a fine betrothal ring,’ he said, tying the stone in the corner of his handkerchief. ‘I’ll take it to Rundell and Bridges myself; they’ll make it up for me. You know what to do with the rest.’
‘Yes, my lord. While I was in Calcutta I was given a glimpse of a diamond the size of a pigeon’s egg which might be for sale at a good price. Obtaining that would set the seal on the venture because I don’t doubt it would make a good profit. The Regent himself would covet it.’
‘Maybe, but buying it would depend on the profit we make on this cargo and what you can make with the outgoing goods.’
‘You have a return cargo?’
‘I am in the middle of negotiating one. It will take another week or two, so take some leave. By the time you come back, it will be ready and waiting. In the meantime, will you come and take a celebratory drink with me?’
‘I thank you, my lord, but my family will be expecting me as soon as news that we have docked reaches them.’
‘Of course.’ He was on the point of leaving, when he turned back. ‘Who was the young lady I met on deck? She was wrapped up in a cloak which was certainly not in the latest mode, but I think she must be a lady by the way she spoke and the way she carried herself. She told me she was travelling with her brother. I did not know we had the facilities to take passengers.’
‘That was Miss Woodhill.’ The Captain smiled. ‘A charming young lady, but I know nothing about her except that she has recently lost her father who was in the employ of the East India Company and she is now the sole guardian of her young brother. It is a great responsibility for one so lacking in years. They were looking for a cheap passage and I thought why not? It’s all grist to the mill.
‘I turned my cabin over to the lady and slept in here on the settle. The boy went in with the first mate; there is a second bunk in his cabin. They both seemed very content with the arrangement, possibly because I asked little more than their board by way of fare. You do not object, do you?’
‘No, though it can hardly have been comfortable. Do they have a family here?’
‘That I do not know, my lord. Do you wish me to make enquiries?’
‘No, not at all, I asked out of curiosity, no more.’
Which was nothing but the truth, he told himself, as he returned to his carriage and ordered his driver to take him to Bond Street. He would have a few rounds of sparring at Gentleman Jackson’s and then go on to Grillons where he had arranged to meet Bertie Cosgrove.
‘I really think this hotel is too dear for us,’ Emma said, looking round the crowded dining-room at the splendidly dressed patrons. ‘Everyone seems so top of the trees.’
The men were clad in bright coloured coats and even brighter waistcoats. Their starched cravats sat under collar points which reached their cheeks and their legs were encased in tight-fitting pantaloons. The younger ladies were dressed in gowns of flimsy silk or net over satin which revealed more than they covered, having high waists with low necklines, while the more matronly were in heavier brocades and velvets with padded skirts from which their ankles peeped in brightly coloured stockings.
It was not that she was over-awed or even particularly envious; hadn’t she attended Society functions at the British Consulate in Calcutta with her father? And held her own. No, it was simply that, in their straitened circumstances, she felt out of place. Her own gown was one of Mrs Goodwright’s, a deep mauve sarcenet which the good lady had said might do in lieu of mourning, and though it had been made to fit Emma’s slim waist and was trimmed with white lace, the colour did nothing for her complexion.
‘Just look at the gems round that lady’s throat,’ Emma said, nodding towards a neighbouring table. ‘They must be worth a fortune. Why, she even has them in her hair. And her gown must have cost a thousand rupees.’
‘You know they don’t have rupees in England,’ Teddy said, making inroads into the lamb cutlets and vegetables with which his plate was piled. Ladies’ fashions did not interest him, though he had thrown an admiring glance at one of the patrons, who had just entered. His double-breasted blue tailcoat fitted across his broad shoulders as if he had been poured into it. His waistcoat was a shining creation of blue and yellow stripes and his white muslin cravat was starched and tied with such precision that Teddy could only stare in admiration.
The man seemed thoroughly at ease and very pleased with himself, chatting animatedly to his companion, a big man with red-gold curls, wearing buckskin breeches and a cord coat.
‘Of course I know,’ Emma said. ‘But it is difficult to think of guineas and half-crowns; it makes my head spin trying to convert it. And you are not above making mistakes. I heard you asking for the dhobi-wallah when we were shown to our rooms.’
‘I wanted my shirt washed.’
‘Now, of course, we are a laughing stock. I wish we had not come here.’
‘Don’t be a ninny, Em, no one is laughing.’ A loud guffaw from the gentleman in the buckskin breeches gave the lie to that statement, though he was not laughing at them but at something his companion had said. ‘And what other could we do? I asked the Captain to recommend a good hotel and he said we could not go wrong with Grillons.’
‘He did not know how impecunious we are,’ she said. ‘Though I think he might have guessed, considering we were obliged to travel on a cargo ship with no passenger accommodation. It is too late to go anywhere else tonight, but tomorrow we must find more modest lodgings. And then we must both search for work, if you are still set against going to Mountforest Hall.’
‘You know I am,’ Teddy said grimly. ‘I would rather starve. But we’ll not do that, for I intend to go to Leadenhall Street and ask for work at Company headquarters. I can be a Writer just as well here as in Calcutta.’ He stopped suddenly and leaned forward. ‘Don’t turn round, but there is a dandy at the next table who is looking at you as if he knows you.’
‘Don’t be foolish, Teddy, how can anyone know us here?’ She pretended to drop her napkin and, in bending to retrieve it, took a surreptitious look behind her. Her eyes met