Chapter 2: A Long Lost Friend

April 1818

The stagecoach, under Admiralty contract, was the quickest way to reach London for an officer traveling with a single manservant. There was even room inside for Broderick. A junior captain whose mumbled introduction Thomas did not understand, two lieutenants on half-pay and a cadet officer, a young man being educated in the Royal Naval College, which had emerged from the Royal Naval Academy, completed the group of travellers. He questioned the young man for a few minutes, trying to find out which of the masters were still teaching, and found out that Mister Bayly had retired, and Professor Inman was now in charge of the College with an all new curriculum, in keeping with its new status. Four pairs of eyes opened wide when Thomas dropped the information that he himself had graduated from the old Academy in the Spring of 1805 and made captain only seven years later. That he also held three knighthoods he kept to himself at first, but when Broderick addressed him as Sir Thomas, as was his custom, that piece of information came out, too, and the cadet’s eyes fairly bugged out with excitement.

As usual when alone in London, he lodged in his club, the St. Croix, where he had a nicely appointed room on the first storey. The club also offered comfortable quarters for the accompanying servants, and Broderick quite enjoyed the visits to London. After sending billets to his friends, the Bennings and the Ansons, advising them of his presence in London, he found the study room where he enjoyed a late tea and the newest London papers.

He was not the only Navy officer there. He counted no fewer than seven flag officers and amongst them was Admiral Lord Lambert, GCB, Captain Carter’s father-in-law. Lambert had been awarded a peerage during the last honours. Rising from his upholstered chair, he walked over to offer his greetings.

“Sir Thomas! That is a nice surprise. Have you business in London?”

“Yes, milord! I am here to study a few facts in the King’s Library.”

“Is there another book in the offing?” Lambert asked him with a twinkle in his eyes. “My daughter quite enjoyed your work.”

That, Thomas already knew, for she had written a very warm letter of felicitation.

“I am only collecting facts and information at the moment, milord.”

“Why don’t you sit with us, my dear Sir Thomas? Gentlemen, this is Sir Thomas Grey, of Guildford, Surrey, and late of the Clyde frigate. To my left is Captain Hosier, late of Superb, this is Captain Bryce...”

“Robert?” Thomas exclaimed, unable to stop himself. “Robert Bryce! Where have you been? Oh, I am ever so sorry, milord!”

“You know each other?”

“Aye, Thomas and I were best friends in the old Academy. You’ve come a long way!”

“I guess, but again, where have you been?”

“Why don’t you two take a separate table for now? We can still dine together,” Lambert suggested with a fatherly smile.

That was a sound idea and the two former friends found a small table to the side. Thomas ordered a bottle of Ancien St. Croix brandy and they sat.

“You just dropped off the face of the earth,” he told Bryce.

“That is how it felt. I was sent to the Far East and never made it back home until the infernal year ‘16. I should not complain; I was confirmed as post-captain three months before Boney’s abdication, not that we ever received any current news. Of course, I read a few mouldy Gazette articles about your exploits, always about a year after the events. How are you? Still living with your parents?”

“My parents both died in ‘12, in an accident whilst driving home in a thunderstorm, and I inherited the lands. I have been married since ‘13. My wife’s name is Mirabel. She is a very distant relative of my mother and was raised by my parents when I went to sea in early ‘06. We have two daughters and expect a third child.”

“Well, you have me beaten here. Did you hear of my brother? Poor Jonathan drowned in ‘07 during a ferry crossing in thick fog. My parents are still alive, but I’m the Younger Laird now. Doing duty in the Far East was not conducive to meeting prospective brides, and so far, my mother has come up empty trying to find a suitable bride for me.”

“Good things come to those who wait,” Thomas answered, but then he grinned. “Not that I have any reason to complain. You must meet Mirabel! What are your current plans?”

“I just paid off my ship, the Nymphe frigate. I’ll probably find transport to Kilmarnock next.”

“Then you must visit with us! I’ll stay in London for four or five days before I return. By the way, how do you know Lord Lambert?”

“I gave him transport from Gibraltar. He was there with some commission and didn’t want to wait for the packet to return. I offered and he accepted. He’s quite the old sea dog, a bit crusty, but I would’ve liked to sail under him.”

“I met him through his son-in-law, Captain Carter. I was captain in the Clyde frigate, and Carter organised a dinner with all her captains to that date, and his father-in-law attended.”

“Dear God! There is so much to tell! Listen, I accept your invitation. I must see the woman who caught your heart! She must be extraordinary!”

“How are your sisters?”

“Heather married a Glasgow barrister. She has two children, girls. Catriona married too, but she was widowed. Her husband fell at the Quatre Bas.”

That had been the battle immediately preceding the Battle of Waterloo by two days, where the Duke of Wellington had made a successful stand against Marshal Ney’s corps.

“That must have been rough for her.”

“It was, still is. She’s only slowly coming out of mourning. Oh, look, Lambert’s signalling. We’d best acknowledge and heed the summons!”

The dinner with Admiral Lord Lambert and the other Navy officers was a pleasant enough affair, and it lasted until after half past ten before the Admiral excused himself. Thomas being a club member, he hosted the rest of the party until close to midnight, and he was decidedly drunk when he stumbled up to his room, not before making plans with Robert Bryce for the next day.

After a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast — in spite of the Marquis’s French birth, the St. Croix served an ample breakfast — Thomas briefly visited the Admiralty and the paymaster’s office, to look up the current captains’ list for his ranking and to pick up his back pay, respectively. That done, he quickly made all the purchases for Mirabel and Teresa, tasked Broderick with delivering all to his room at the St. Croix, and then hastened to meet Robert Bryce at the appointed time.

They had made the appointment to meet at Rule’s, a fine eatery located to the South of Covent Garden, and when Thomas arrived there, he was met by a smiling Robert.

“How is your head?” he asked Thomas.

“Just as brilliant as ever. I already had a grand idea today. Have you any plans in London?”

“No, before I met you, I contemplated a visit to the seedier parts of the city. You married men have no idea of the deprivations we seagoing men suffer.”

Thomas laughed. “I shan’t stand in your way, but don’t expect me to accompany you. The last time I paid such a visit here in London, two of my mates almost got their heads bashed in.”

“And when was that, if I may ask?”

“In ‘06; not that it’s any of your business. Besides, the women here won’t accept lumps of peat as payment.”

“Oh dear, we’re back to being immature boys, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but it feels good,” Thomas laughed. “I was thinking of returning to Guildford tomorrow. To hell with historical research! Besides, do you know who is a very rich widow now?”

Robert Bryce actually blushed. “The lovely Miss Harriet-Anne?”

“The very same. She is Lady Manning now and our neighbour and good friend. Need I say more to entice you?”

“How long ago was she widowed?”

“Over four years ago. It was not a happy marriage. Her husband was quite older and not very social. She was bored stiff. She is quite happy to be a widow of means.”

“Probably waiting for me to return from the shadows of a happier past,” Robert mused and grinned. “Is she still as lovely?”

“To my mind, even more attractive, for she is a very competent and well educated lady now. Not that she ever was dumb. That was me being young and stupid.”

“Know thyself! Presented like this, your invitation is very tempting, my friend. Are you travelling by stagecoach?”

“Yes. That way, Mirabel has the use of our coachman and the coach, of course. She frequently visits another of her friends, who was only recently widowed, the wife of my late benefactor, Mister Egerton.”

“I remember him from that New Year’s soiree at this other gentleman’s home, Whittle or something?”

“Whipplethwaite. He died years ago. His nephew owns the estate now.”

“Yes, he was rather old and dotty, if I remember. What about that old fool, that curate?”

“When I returned from the Mediterranean in ‘14, he was gone, replaced by a rather nice man, a former ship’s chaplain. One thorn less in my side.”

“Well, you convinced me. When does that stagecoach leave London?”

“Every morning save for Sunday, at eight. I shall go and make a reservation for us.”

“Why don’t we both go after dining here. I hear their pies are very good.”

“Excellent. Let’s order then!”

Time passed so much quicker on the return journey to Guildford, with Thomas and his friend Robert still catching up to each other’s lives. Thomas learned a little bit about the political and naval situation in the Indian Ocean and the South Sea. Whilst the coasts of India were patrolled by the Bombay Marine, a naval force under control of the East India Company, the Royal Navy had a small presence there, too, but also patrolled the sea routes to New South Wales. Ceylon, too, was now under British rule, after the central Kingdom of Kandy was occupied by the British Army, and a Governor ruled the island now. Robert’s ship, the 22-gun Volage sixth-rate, had been part of the effort, and her captain and crew shared in the massive war bounty. Robert Bryce was a rather wealthy man in his own right, even without counting the family possessions.

Robert, on the other hand, had to be the only British captain who did not hear or read of Dido’s capture of a bullion ship in 1812, and the almost £100,000 prize money.

“I’d say, for two graduates of the much-maligned Academy, we did not fare too poorly,” Robert summed up smugly, and since they had opened a bottle of fine Bordeaux wine, he followed up with a toast. “To the old Academy and her masters!”

“And to the Sea Rover club, where we learned even more important lessons,” Thomas toasted back with a grin.

“Is that place still operating?”

“No. Conway and his Mabel are alive and well, I heard, but when too many of the girls quit, they closed the Sea Rover down and sold the house. It’s a private home now.”

“A shame that,” Robert exclaimed. “To the lovely Mistress Maybelle and her wonderful girls!”

Of course, nobody expected Thomas to return from London so early, but they arrived early enough to find transport to Grey Manor. When their rented trap drove up to the manor house, Thomas saw Harriet-Anne’s coach in front of the steps.

“You’re getting your wish fulfilled early,” he told his friend. “That’s Lady Manning’s coach.”

Robert laughed. “Really?”

“She is probably visiting Mirabel. Let’s find out!”

Thomas paid the coachman after the man carried their valises to the front steps.

“Thank’ee, Sir Thomas,” the man smiled toothlessly and touched his grimy cap.

The men took their luggage, climbed the front steps and entered.

“It’s just like I remember it,” Robert remarked.

Mary, the housemaid, came running already.

“Sir Thomas, you’re back already! Let me get your valise!”

“Mary, this is Captain Bryce, my former classmate at the Academy. He’ll be visiting for a while. Be so good and ready a guest room, will you!”

“Of course, Sir Thomas! Welcome to Grey Manor, Captain! I’ll see to everything.”

“Thank you, Mary. Is my wife in?”

“Yes, Sir Thomas. She has Lady Manning and the Widow Egerton visiting in the garden room.”

“Come, Robert, let’s see them!”

Thomas led the way to the back of the house where the garden room was brightly lit by the afternoon sun. As soon as they entered, Mirabel looked up.

“Thomas! You are back! Oh, who is our visitor?”