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Rodrigo frowned as he leaned against a sideboard table, his muscular arms folded across his chest, his legs crossed at his ankles. “I don’t understand why you hesitate. You were friend to the American colonies in their fight. You have always defended the French Revolution when all your kind shouted it down...so...?”
Fox interrupted him by holding up his hand. “Hold now.” His smile was whimsical, his faded eyes darted openly between Rodrigo and the man’s high-strung comrade, Simon Bolivar. He was certainly sympathetic to their cause, but he was, at this time in life, all too realistic. “Steady now, lads. I haven’t said I ain’t with you, now, have I?”
“Nor have you said you mean to help,” Bolivar accused as he ran a hand through his short, dark curls.
“Rodrigo, you have spent enough years in England to know something of our politics.” Fox pursed his thin lips. “Therefore, you will understand when I tell you that at the moment, you would be better served by enlisting the help of a Tory, not a Whig.”
Rodrigo’s black eyes narrowed, and his lashes partially shaded them as he answered, “No doubt, you are referring to Prime Minister Pitt’s present power over Parliament?”
Fox inclined his head. “Though in truth, he seems to care for nothing but the success of his Third Coalition.”
“Which will collapse before the year is out,” Rodrigo returned impatiently.
Fox smiled. “How clear it is to all but the prime minister.” He shook his head. “However, we digress. Pitt and I have too often crossed swords. Ours is a bitter rivalry, and it would not serve you if he were to become cognizant of the fact you applied first to me.”
“Yes, but...” Bolivar started as he stood again. He had been alternating his position between sitting, standing, and pacing. “It is rumored you will be England’s next Secretary of Foreign Affairs.”
Fox snorted. “Is it, indeed? Yet I repeat, go to Pitt with your propositions. Watch him. Take his reaction in silence, and then return to me, and we shall see.”
“That is all very well,” Bolivar said irritably. “But we waste precious time with these diplomatic maneuvers. The time is now to act. Can’t you see?”
“I see very well,” Fox answered quietly. “France quarrels with Portugal and Spain, which makes it feasible for South America to revolt. Pitt will ask you how England will benefit by lending its aid to your cause.”
“It will benefit by diverting its trade,” Rodrigo answered in firm accents. “You need timber for your vessels. Canada cannot meet all your demands. Your stocks in your naval dockyards need to be replenished. South America is the answer.” His sharp eyes took on an intense expression as he watched Fox’s reaction. Yes, he had hit home, and he knew it.
Fox conceded it at once. “An excellent argument, my friend. Present it to the prime minister just as you have presented it to me, and I doubt it could fail to sway him.” For emphasis, he put a hand on Rodrigo’s arm and squeezed.
“So, I shall,” Rodrigo answered. “We need both Pitt’s and the Whig’s support.”
“I don’t know that the Tories will be sympathetic to your cause, lad. They don’t believe in the revolution theory, and won’t, as a rule, lend aid in that direction. However, convince Pitt that helping you will be advantageous to England, and you’ll have him neatly won. He is many things I cannot like, but above all others, he is faithful to what he thinks will benefit our Albion Isle.”
Bolivar and Rodrigo exchanged a glance, and Rodrigo decided it was time to take their leave.
“We thank you, Charles Fox, and when we have negotiated with Pitt, I mean to return with those negotiations to you as you asked. Your prime minister is faithful to your country, but mine is still in danger. I look to you to also do what you can,” Rodrigo said quietly, grimly.
* * * * *
Lady Jessica felt the atmosphere subtly altered in her uncle’s London town house as the week progressed. Her great-aunt felt it as well, and complained her nephew had turned their house into Parliament with all his politics.
Her uncle was quiet when he hadn’t set himself to entertain her and avoid her questions. Her great-aunt watched him and whispered, “Difficult doings.”
Lord Sidmouth of the Home Office and Lord Windham were frequent guests, and although she kept her eyes and ears open, she did not pick up on just what they were planning. She only hoped her uncle would not have to set sail.
Wednesday evening was upon them, and they entered Almack’s with all the haute ton of London’s hedonistic crew. Everyone was excited because Admiral Nelson was expected to make an appearance.
Lady Hamilton was present, and all eyes were on her tolerant husband, Sir William Hamilton, who was aware of her relationship with Admiral Nelson. Her ladyship could not stop from watching the entranceway, as she braced herself for her lover’s arrival. Few knew that as soon as he had put into port, he had gone straight to her and found her devoted response.
Jessie was very intrigued with their love story. She listened as her friends gossiped and giggled about the famous couple. She found it a curious thing that tickled her mind. All at once, a youthful and familiar voice, chuckling as he said her name, made her spin around and exclaim enthusiastically, “Pauly!” Jessie dove into his arms and repeated his name. “Oh, Pauly...you are here!”
With a grimace, he halted her attack on his carefully tied cravat, and held her bare shoulders at arms’ length. “Steady, m’girl. Where do you think we are? Lord, but ain’t that just like you? Rough and tumble and setting the sticklers’ tongues wagging.” He laughed. “Zounds, but it is good to see you.”
“Pauly.” Jessie laughed. “I shall always be rough and tumble, you must know that.”
“I do, that white frippery thing you are wearing doesn’t fool me any.”
She averted his hands and threw herself at his chest once more. He patted her back and said, “There, there, don’t give up hope, sooner or later you might fool one of these bucks into marrying you!”
“Oh, you odious creature,” she said on a hearty laugh. “Miserable beast. Where have you been? You promised to be in town for my ball, and you weren’t, though, in truth, I know how you hate such things and didn’t really expect you, and isn’t it just like you not to notice how wonderfully grown-up and womanly I have become in the last year!”
