The Admiral's Daughter

'Is in a state of despondency.'

'Poor Thomas.' Cecilia sighed, twisting a ribbon. 'It did seem so possible, did it not?'

Renzi resumed his chair and blinked. 'I rather think now it was not a deed of kindness to encourage him to believe there could be any favourable conclusion to the affair. His lack of connections damns him in her mother's eyes—an ambitious creature, I believe.'

'Persephone Lockwood is much attached to him,' Cecilia said thoughtfully. 'They would make a fine pair together—if only . . .'

She stood up and paced about the room. 'She will not go against her mother's wishes, that much is sure. Therefore this is the problem we must address.'

'I can only agree in the heartiest manner with your observations on such a match but it is not to be. Do you not consider that, perhaps with some reluctance, you should cease from matchmaking in his case?'

'Why, Mr Renzi, I do believe you have no romantic inclinations whatsoever.'

Renzi held still, his eyes opaque.

'I shall certainly do what is needful to assist Thomas to a blissful destiny—if I can think of any such,' Cecilia said, with spirit, and picked up her bonnet, settling it thoughtfully. Then she stopped. 'There is . . . but this will require that the gods of chance do favour us in the timing and that, when asked, a certain person will grant us a particular kindness . . .' She frowned prettily, and left.

A footman entered noiselessly with a note on a silver tray. The admiral at breakfast was often irascible, and the man spoke diffidently. 'For your immediate attention, sir.'

'What? Oh, give it here, then, damnit!'

Lady Lockwood sighed and continued her criticism of her daughter's needlework but at her husband's snort of interest she looked up. 'What is it, dear?'

'Well, now, and you'll clear your engagements for tonight, m' love! It seems the Marquess of Bloomsbury is giving me the favour of an At Home. Didn't know he was in Plymouth. You remember? I managed an introduction for you at court a year or so back.'

'Oh!' Lady Lockwood said, in sudden understanding. 'The Marquess of Bloomsbury—this is interesting, Reginald. Isn't he high in the diplomatic line, as I recall?'

'Yes, indeed. Discreet sort of cove, gets all about the world but likes to do his work in the strictest confidence. Now, I happen to know he has the ear of Billy Pitt himself—and I don't have to tell you, my love, that if I'm to get a sea command he's the kind of man I need to keep well in with.'

'Yes, you must, Reginald. Wasn't he married to the Earl of Arundel's eldest? Charlotte? I must look it up.'

Well satisfied, she turned to her daughter. 'Now, Persephone, the marquess is very important. You will come and be introduced, and remember, my dear, the men will be making high talk and we should never speak unless addressed directly.'

'Yes, Mama.'

'Your tamboured cream muslin will do, and do try to bring those curls more into control—you'll be under eye tonight.'

The Lockwood carriage rumbled grittily to a stop, the footmen hastening to hand down the party. 'Not grand at all—but so in keeping with the man,' chuckled the full-dress admiral, as he took his wife's arm. 'Consults his privacy always. I know he's only passing through—I wonder who's his host? May need to make his acquaintance after he's gone.'

They were greeted at the door by a distinguished butler. 'You are expected, sir,' he was told, and they were taken up the stairs to a small but discreet drawing room.

Outside Lady Lockwood did a last-minute primping of her ostrich plumes and surveyed Persephone once more before they entered. 'Remember, child, a warm smile and special attentions to the host and hostess. We're ready now, Reginald.'

'Admiral Sir Reginald Lockwood, Lady Lockwood and Miss Lockwood,' the butler announced. Wearing her most gracious smile Lady Lockwood advanced to be introduced.

'Sir, may I have th' honour t' introduce Sir Reginald an' Lady Lockwood, and their daughter Persephone,' their host intoned. 'Sir,' he said, turning to the gaping admiral and wife, 'please meet th' most honourable the Marquess of Bloomsbury and his wife, th' Marchioness.'

The marquess bestowed a smile. 'And perhaps I should introduce you all to my friend,' he indicated the genial man standing to one side, 'who is the Baron Grenville, foreign secretary of Great Britain—if that will be allowable, William?'

'Why, thank 'ee, Frederick. I think it unlikely that Addington's shambles of an administration will survive the winter, and when Pitt takes power again . . . well, I stand ready to take up the burden once more, hey?'

Lady Lockwood rose from her deep curtsy, struck dumb with the effort of trying to come to terms with what she was seeing, while the charming young hostess took the arm of the marchioness and drew her aside. 'Lady Charlotte, I can never thank you enough! You and—' she stammered.

'Nonsense, Cecilia, dear. So good to see you again and, of course, we're delighted to offer Cupid a helping hand. That Grenville happened along was the merest chance, of course.' She gave a fond smile and continued, 'But, then, with Frederick having succeeded his father it seems they have plans in mind for him in the new year. And that will mean . . . I do hope you will not refuse another engagement with us, my dear?'

Cecilia blushed to be so honoured by one whom, as lady's companion, she had always known as Lady Stanhope. 'It will be my pleasure and duty.'

Finally Lady Lockwood came to herself and hissed at the host, 'Mr Kydd! Why on earth—what are you doing here?'

'Lady Lockwood, this is my house and I believe I may entertain whom I will.' It was worth every minute of his recent torments to see her resulting expression.

'A fine part of the country,' the admiral said respectfully, to the foreign secretary.