Chapter 5: The Legion of Honour

Even in the prevailing freezing temperatures, the coach ride into London was not too uncomfortable. They had procured sheepskin coats for themselves and for the coachman, and their legs were wrapped in wool blankets against the cold. Nevertheless, they were relieved when they finally arrived at Stanhope Gate, and at the city house of their friends, the Bennings. Elias and Angela welcomed them with obvious pleasure and pride, and they were ushered into their living room, which was warm and cozy thanks to a new, large cockle stove in the corner.

Daisy Leeds had to say her good-byes soon since she was staying with her parents. They rented a cab, and Thomas saw her to the Leeds’ imposing home. He had to step in, of course, but Mr. Leeds and his wife were friendliness incarnate, thanking him for watching over their daughter and furthering Owen Leeds’s career. Thomas accepted a fine brandy to warm himself, but he had to refuse an invitation to tea, seeing that he had just arrived in London. He accepted a dinner invitation in his and Mirabel’s name before he could make his escape.

Returning to the Bennings’ house, he arrived in time for a hot meal, served in the dining room. He could not help but notice another tiled stove there. Elias smiled.

“We had them built over the summer, or what had to pass for summer in this dismal year,” he explained. “You only have to fire them for two or three hours to heat them up, and they keep warm for a full day. Much less work for the servants, and less firewood is needed.”

“That sounds ingenious,” Thomas admitted. “The Dutch use them a lot, don’t they?”

“In fact, we employed a Dutch stove fitter, a fellow named Oudenaarde. He’s recently opened his shop here in London. Took him a week to build each, and then another week slowly tempering them, as he called it. They are fired from the outside, in this case, from the kitchen. There’s no dust or ashes in here, and no smoke.”

“Ingenious,” Thomas repeated.

Talk then shifted quickly to Thomas’s recent exploits on the Barbary Coast, a topic that kept the two men occupied whilst Mirabel and Angela were talking dresses already. The soiree at the ambassador’s residence was only eight days away, and Mirabel and Angela’s wardrobe for that evening had to be planned at least as carefully as the assault on Algiers.

Thomas had it easy in this regard. His Nº1 uniform had seen no use since he had received his knighthood at St. James Palace, almost two years ago, and it still fitted him perfectly. The rest, breeches, silk stockings, shirt, necktie and gold-buckled shoes were also easily cleaned or procured, and no fashion-related considerations were necessary.

For the women, more was at stake. A dress from two years ago would expose them to ridicule or poorly disguised pity. Therefore, Mirabel and Angela would be off to Wilson’s Fashion at the dawn’s first light. Teresa would join them. At almost fourteen years of age, she needed new dresses, too. Mirabel had confided to Thomas that their little girl had had her first bleeding in late November. A year or two in the future, the first suitors for her hand might show, although Teresa herself had not shown any interest in men so far. In any case, the girl needed to dress her age.

Thomas planned to visit the Admiralty and the paymaster’s office to collect his back pay. The months on Lord Exmouth’s staff were counted as full employment, and he was drawing half pay since then. He had also received a second letter from the Foreign Office, asking him to visit Mr. Allardyce for advice and instructions. Obviously, his knighthood in the Legion of Honour had implications of which he was not yet aware.

Elias nodded in understanding when Thomas revealed his plans. He himself had no business at the Admiralty and certainly none at the Foreign Office, but they agreed to meet at the St. Croix club in the afternoon.

After the cosy warmth of the living room and the dining room, the upstairs bedrooms felt particularly cold, and they rushed to get under the sheets and blankets after a hurried catlick.

Their breakfast in the next morning was rather short and hurried, and soon afterwards, the females were on their way to the fashion house. Thomas and Elias enjoyed their morning coffee for a while longer, sharing a newspaper and discussing current events. A famine was sure to come over the winter, and there were calls urging the ministry to take action. A relief act was discussed in the Commons, but the Lords had already declared against it.

Thomas’s first business of the morning was a visit to the London shop of Reeves, swordsmiths of Birmingham, on Pall Mall. His father’s sword, with a Birmingham blade from Reeves, had become a tad unsightly over the years, and Thomas wanted it polished and fitted with a modern hilt and a new scabbard.

Afterwards, he took a rented cab to the Admiralty. With his appointment at the Foreign Office in mind, he was wearing his Nº2 coat and his gilded honour sword. He certainly drew attention in his finery which was in stark contrast to the well worn uniform of Captain Masters, who was sitting on a wooden bench in the entrance hall. Thomas sighed involuntarily, but then he stiffened his back and gave a curt nod.

“Sir!” he greeted the senior captain.

Masters looked as if he’d bitten on a lemon.

“You!”

Several other officers looked up at the discourteous response, and Thomas could not resist a little barb.

“I see that you haven’t changed, Sir. Have a good day and give my regards to your brother-in-law!”

“One day, Grey, you’ll...”

“Just a reminder, Sir: You may address me as Sir Thomas. Kindly keep that in mind. Again, have a good day!”

He turned his back to the man and headed for the next stairwell, feeling his anger growing. It was better not to give in to the temptation to make more scathing remarks. Masters was an old fool, and his opinion counted nothing, Thomas told himself as he searched for Sir Jeremiah Anson’s office. He gave his calling card to the clerk in the anteroom and was soon asked in.

“My dear Sir Thomas! It is a pleasure to see you.”

“You are being kind, Sir Jeremiah. I am visiting London and I thought I’d visit and inquire about the state of things.”

“You mean Algiers, of course. Exmouth will be created Viscount, and most captains will get their companionships. Sorry, but you’re too junior for a Grand Cross, although Lord Exmouth praised your initiative and conduct.”

“That is quite all right, Sir Jeremiah. I did not expect anything.”

“Well, you can expect things. You are getting quite the reputation in the service as a man on whom to rely in a pickle. That, and your recent popularity — or should I say notoriety — as a writer, have made your name well known.”

“Yes, Sir Jeremiah, I received a wide variety of letters from my readers, or from those who had only heard of my book.”

“I can imagine. My own brother-in-law represents the sugar interest in the Commons and at first, he was ill-disposed towards your work. My dear wife, however, made him actually read the book, and he now admits to some truths about which you expounded and of which he had been ignorant. Still, they don’t like it. They would like to repeal the 1807 Slave Trade Act, but your book has not made things easier for them.”

“That was not my intention anyway,” Thomas admitted, causing Anson to grin.

“I could guess that. By the way, how long will you stay in London?”

“I am commanded to a soiree at the French Embassy on the 17th. We shall probably return to Guildford on the 19th or 20th.”

“The DePlassey business?”

“Yes, they’ll appoint me to the Legion of Honour.”

“Why, congratulations, Sir Thomas, or should I say mon chevalier?”

Thomas had to laugh. “I haven’t thought of that. It certainly sounds imposing.”

“Would you be free for another dinner in the next days? My dear wife is bursting with curiosity about the bombardment of Algiers.”

“I am quite certain that my wife will enjoy an evening with Lady Anson and you, and so shall I.”

“I’ll send you a billet today. By the way, just so you can warn Lady Grey, my wife has written a comedic piece about that curate of yours. It will open at Gardiner’s Revue, a week from now. Can you guess at who shall play Lady Grey’s alter ego?”

Thomas made the connection immediately. “Miss Dumoulin?”

Anson nodded. “She is quite talented. She filled in a few evenings at the Drury Lane when the principal actress had a sore throat. They liked her a lot there.”

“Miss Dumoulin was quite the catch then,” Thomas quipped. “She was also very helpful, and she deserves the chance.”

“Certainly. If you wish, we can secure tickets for you on the 19th. It’ll be the third showing, and the kinks should be worked out by then.”

“That would be delightful, Sir Jeremiah. I trust there are no further punitive actions in the planning?”

Anson laughed easily. “Not at the moment. You may enjoy some leisure time on shore.”

“That is good to hear. I must involve myself more deeply in the running of my estate at the moment, given the dreadful year we’ve had.”

“Don’t I know this! I am glad that my father’s caretaker is also running my estate for me. I am not really knowledgeable of farming.”

“Well, thank you for your time, Sir Jeremiah. We shall have more time for discussions at the planned dinner.”

“So true. Thank you for your visit, Sir Thomas, and give my regards to Lady Grey.”

“Thank you. I look forward to seeing Lady Anson.”

With that, Thomas left the office with a feeling of assurance. They would not give him a new command anytime soon, but his reputation at the Admiralty was good. Remembering Masters, he took another stairwell, closer to the entrance of the building and exited without looking in the direction of where the old fool had been sitting. Still, from the corner of his eye he could see Masters abruptly rising from the bench, but then Thomas stepped past the sentries and he was out.

It was only a short walk across Horse Guards Parade to the Foreign Office where he sent his visiting card to Mr. Allardyce. He had to wait for a quarter hour before an ancient clerk with stooped shoulders led him to a second storey office.

Allardyce was of middling age, immaculately dressed and with a jovial smile pasted on his face.

“Sir Thomas! How good of you to drop by! I trust that your recent exploits on the Barbary Coast left you in good spirits and health?”

“Nothing’s amiss, Sir, thank you!” Thomas replied cheerfully.

“Brilliant! Lady Grey is also well?”

“She is being fitted for new dresses, Sir. I expect her to be in excellent spirits.”

“Ha-ha! That appears to be the universal cure for women’s malaises!”

“It works more often than not,” Thomas agreed, curious where this “men’s talk” was headed.

“Certainly! Sir Thomas, I asked you for this interview to give you a bit of background. You are aware of the identity of the Bonapartist agent you captured?”

“I was told that his real name is DePlassey, and that he is — or was — close to the head of the French secret police.”

“Close enough, Sir Thomas. He was indeed his second-in-commnd for some time. In his interrogation he confessed to conspiring against Louis XVIII and implicated good old Fouché. We relayed that information to the French, and with Talleyrand gone, Fouché was dismissed. It would appear that the powers-to-be in France are quite happy over this outcome; hence the honour you will receive.”

“I also heard that Legrande or DePlassey was sent along to St. Helena with his emperor?”

“Sadly, he did not make it there. Nobody knows for certain, but he disappeared somewhere en route. He must have gone overboard.”

“A fitting fate, given my first encounter with the man,” Thomas said drily.

“So true, Sir Thomas. Now, to that soiree. His Excellency the Marquis d’Osmond is a dyed-in-the-wool royalist, not a turncoat as so many others. The Marquise, his wife, is a native of Martinique. I must warn you that she is of mixed blood, a créole, as the French call them. Kindly be on your best behaviour as the good Marquis is very attached to her. Their daughter, Adèle d’Osmond, Countess de Boigne, is also accompanying her father. She is an accomplished woman who, in spite of her descent, was leading a royalist circle even under Bonaparte’s rule.”

“I assure you that I hold no prejudice based on pedigree against any person,” Thomas said rather stiffly, already liking Mr. Allardyce a lot less.

“Ah, yes, of course! Your writings identify you as an anti-slavery activist.”

“How nice of you to say that,” Thomas countered with a genial smile.

“Hr-hm! Anyway, His Excellency’s previous appointment was to the Sardinian court in Turin. Please be so kind to wear the cross of Saints Maurice and Lazarus to the reception.”

“I had planned to do so,” Thomas replied.

“I trust that the Lady Grey is comfortable at such a reception?”

“I expect her to enjoy it. She is very much at home in a salon, much more than I am.”

“Splendid! Will you be bringing guests?”

“Yes, indeed. I shall be accompanied by Captain Elias Benning and his wife, two of our closest friends.”

“Splendid! They, too, will be comfortable?”

“Indubitably.”

“Well, I suppose, this is it. Have you any questions?”

“No, Sir, none at all.”

“Then I must thank you for your visit, Sir Thomas. I shall see you at the soiree.”

“Thank you, Sir. By your leave?”

Thomas left Allardyce’s office shaking his head. Obviously, the man had thought Thomas and Mirabel to be potential embarrassments. Add to that the tactless remarks about the d’Osmond women, and Thomas had not the best opinion of Mr. Allardyce.

Returning to Stanhope Gate, he found Mirabel already returned from Wilson’s and indeed in an excellent mood.

“Had you a good time, dear?” he inquired with a smile.

“Oh, yes, we had. I shall have to return tomorrow afternoon, for the first fitting. You will love my dress for the reception!”

“I expect I shall, darling. After all, you will be wrapped in it, and how can I not love it then?”

“Charmer! How were your visits this morning?”

“We’ll receive another invitation to dinner from the Ansons. The less I say about that Mr. Allardyce at the Foreign Office, the better it is. He made a point warning me that the Marquis’s wife is of Créole extraction, and that I should be polite to her, nevertheless.”

“Oh, dear! He must have had bad experiences with Navy officers.”

“He sounded rather like the Marquis had made a regrettable mistake with the choice of his wife.”

“Oh, dear! He’ll see another such mistake soon, won’t he?”

“He will, and he’ll better be on his best behaviour. He was also asking whether my guests would behave properly in polite society.”

“How droll!” Mirabel laughed. “What is his position at the Foreign Office?”

“Chief of protocol, or something in that vein. A pompous windbag in other words. We’ll just ignore him.”

“We had better. Yet, there is one less worry for me.”

“How so?”

“If His Excellency is married to a créole woman, they will not take issue with me.”

“Were you worried about that?”

“Unfortunately, my experiences in society were not always positive, as you may recall.”

“But not recently?”

“No. I had a grand time in Gibraltar, everybody has been polite in Guildford, and the people we met whilst in London also accepted me without hesitation. Oh, dear! Even His Serene Highness did, and even more so, his wife. What do I care about the likes of that Allardyce character?”

“A very healthy attitude, darling. Now, where are Elias and Angela?”

“They are out visiting neighbours for tea. We are make ourselves at home, as Angela said, and rest.”

“Teresa?”

“Visiting the Leeds. Daisy came by to pick her up, for the Leeds to meet her, but also for Melissa’s benefit. The wedding will be in April. Mr. Leeds is apparently confident that young Owen will hold a commission by then.”

“Talking about interest,” Thomas remarked.

“Oh, Mr. Rourke’s commission was already confirmed, like all the other acting commissions Lord Exmouth awarded after Algiers.”

“He’ll be created a Viscount,” Thomas added.

“Will you be getting... ?”

“No, according to Anson, I am too junior for the Grand Cross. It would also seem wrong for me to be raised in the ranks of the Bath for commanding a couple of bomb vessels out of range from the enemy’s guns. Even this Legion of Honour affair is purely political.”

“It took a lot of daring on your part to rescue that young actress,” Mirabel asserted.

“Some perhaps, but I am to be rewarded for apprehending Legrande, DePlassey, whatever.”

Thomas and Mirabel made the most of an afternoon of leisure, playing a little with Margaret, but also retiring to their bedroom for an afternoon “nap”. When Elias and Angela returned, however, both were dressed properly and sitting in Elias’s study reading newspapers.

Angela had canapés served whilst dinner was prepared, and they sat together discussing their day. This conversation segued into dinner talk, after which they enjoyed brandy and sherry, each to their liking, whilst Teresa had her own treat, a cup of hot chocolate. Angela was set on spoiling the girl after hearing how close they had come to giving her into her mother’s care.

Somehow, Angela had borrowed a baby carriage from an acquaintance, and the four friends, with Teresa and little Margaret set out for a stroll in the next morning. It was rather cold, but at least the sky was cloudless and the weak sun warmed them a little. In spite of this being a Wednesday, Hyde Park was fairly populated with strollers, and the Bennings met quite a few acquaintances. As they were not wearing their uniforms, there was no need for Thomas and Elias to salute or be saluted, making the stroll more leisurely.