Thomas Grey & The Hundred Days

Thomas Grey & The Hundred Days

Peter Argonis

 

© 2021, 2025

All Rights Reserved by the Author

 

Synopsis

Having returned to Surrey to enjoy the fruits of his toils, Thomas Grey is once again called to duty and away from his home after Napoleon's return to France and the renewal of war with France. Note: A shorter version of this story was posted at storiesonline.net in 2021.

Foreword

Thomas Grey & The Hundred Days was written and first published at storiesonline.net in January 2021, as the immediate follow-up to The Return of Thomas Grey. Since then, the saga of Thomas Grey has grown, and I decided to flesh out this novella with an additional chapter, to fill out the timeline. I also fixed the language in parts where it did not fit that of my newer seafaring stories and added my usual glossaries. Old Rotorhead gave it another sharp look, and here it is, slightly grown and hopefully for your enjoyment.

March 2025

 

Contents

1. New Year's Honours

2. One-hundred Days

3. On The French Coast

4. Witnessing History

5. Upholding His Reputation

Appendix 1: Sail plan of a full-rigged ship

Appendix 2: Ranks in the Royal Navy

Appendix 3: Administrative Structure of the Royal Navy ca. 1800

Appendix 4: Rated and unrated ships and vessels

Appendix 5: Watches and times

Appendix 6: Nautical terms

 

1. New Year's Honours

January 1815

Sir Thomas Grey, KML, checked his appearance in the tall mirror of the dressing room. His new uniform coat sported the epaulettes of a captain of more than three years’ seniority, whilst the green and white sash with the green and white star of the Order of Saints Maurice and Lazarus formed a nice contrast with the dark blue cloth. The rest of his clothes — spotless white breeches and silk stockings, gold-buckled shoes, a silk cravat and a stiff collared shirt — were of the finest quality.

The only possible exception was the sword at his side, a fine blade to be sure of the best Birmingham steel, but largely devoid of gilding and ornaments. Briefly, Thomas contemplated to exchange it for the heavily gilded, 50-guineas honour sword which he had been awarded as a junior lieutenant, but then he shook his head. The sword at his side had been his late father’s, and he would wear it on this day of honour.

He pulled out his fob watch and checked the dial. It was time to leave now if they were to be in time.

"Are you ready yet, Darling?" he asked in the direction of the bedroom.

"About done, Thomas!", came the cheery reply from his wife, and he stepped into the bedroom. Mirabel smiled at him whilst her maidservant, Suzette, was affixing the fashionable hat to her curly hair. "And done!" Mirabel announced. "You look splendid, my darling.”

Thomas took in the sight of his wife and smiled. In the dress she was wearing, nothing was visible of her pregnancy, but her face showed the radiance to which he was by now accustomed.

"I am hardly a match for my beautiful wife," he announced, making Mirabel beam at him. "It is chilly outside, my darling. You’ll need your great coat. Broderick! Is my coat ready?"

The manservant appeared from the dressing room carrying the heavy wool cloth coat which he hung around Thomas’s shoulders.

"Freshly brushed, Sir Thomas. The coach is already waiting."

It was a chilly, but at least sunny morning on this New Year’s Day, 1815. Mirabel and Thomas climbed into the coach where their hosts were already waiting. Captain Elias Benning and his wife Angela were his invited guests on this occasion, both being long time friends and mentors.

"How do you feel, Thomas?" Elias asked.

"All I know is that I’ll feel much better this afternoon," Thomas returned with a lopsided smile.

Elias chuckled softly. "It’s your first appearance at court, isn’t it? Oh my, who would’ve imagined this nine years ago?"

Thomas nodded. "Not I, Elias. That’s why I feel almost surreal."

Nine years earlier, then Midshipman Grey had reported for duty in the Wolverine sloop, under the command of Commander Elias Benning. Over the years as he advanced in rank, their paths had crossed often, and their relationship had gradually morphed into a close friendship. Their wives too had become fast friends, with Angela Benning considering herself Thomas and Mirabel's substitute aunt.

Now they were on their way from the Bennings’ London house to St. James Palace, to attend a special honours ceremony. Thomas had received the summons in early December. He was to be made a Companion of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath, adding to his knighthood in the Savoyan Order of Saints Maurice and Lazarus, which he had received almost two years earlier for fighting off Barbary pirates on the Sardinian coast. His new knighthood was to be the reward for another action against the Barbary coast corsairs in which he, with his beloved Unicorn frigate, had engaged and sunk an obsolete fourth-rate battleship, sent by the vengeful Dey of Algiers. Shaking himself from the reminiscences, he smiled ruefully.

"Yes, it’s surreal."

The war against Napoleon had ended in the previous summer with a complete victory. On this day, a large batch of Navy and Army officers would be given knighthoods for their feats and true services, forcing a massive enlargement and reorganisation of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath. Thus, the state rooms of the St. James Palace were positively crammed with the officers, their wives and their guests. Being the youngest officer in presence, Thomas and his group stood to the back and watched as generals and admirals received the newly created Grand Crosses, among them a man whom Thomas and Mirabel knew. Rear Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, with whom they had once dined in Plymouth, was made a Knight Grand Cross for his string of successes in the war against the United States. Then, very senior captains and colonels were made Knight Commanders, another new rank in the order, until Companionships were bestowed on the more junior captains and colonels. There were still a number of captains and army officers waiting, when a courtier announced Thomas.

"Sir Thomas Leander Grey, Knight of the Order of Saints Maurice and Lazarus, Captain, Royal Navy!"

Giving Mirabel a quick kiss, Thomas stepped to the fore. He was led before the Prince Regent, who gave him a friendly smile. Thomas bowed elaborately.

"Your Royal Highness!"

"Mornin’, Captain! Glad to have you here." The Prince Regent quickly looked into a list. "Let’s see. You sank a whole Berber fleet with a fifth-rate, including a two-decker? Now that’s a feat!. Let’s get started!"

A courtier hung a red cloak around Thomas’s shoulders, and he was told to kneel. The surreality Thomas felt increased further and he barely felt the accolade and heard the words that made him Sir Thomas Grey, Companion of the Bath, under the new organisation. A new sash and star were draped across his chest and he was allowed to stand again.

"My felicitations, Sir Thomas," the Prince Regent smiled.

"Thank you, your Royal Highness," Thomas answered, and then he was already led away whilst the next officer was brought before the Prince Regent.

Hands were offered on his way back which he shook whilst he barely heard or understood the introductions. There was Mirabel giving him a beaming smile, and finally Thomas came back to his senses.

"Did you see everything?" he asked.

"Yes. Elias led us to the front. We saw it all. You looked a little dazed," Mirabel giggled.

"I feel dazed. Well, I felt dazed."

"I couldn’t be prouder if my son had been knighted," Angela smiled and gave him a brief hug.

"Thank you, Aunt Angela," Thomas smiled, getting his balance back.

"It’s a tragedy that your parents were denied witnessing this, my dear Thomas," Elias said solemnly. "If it is any consolation, I felt a fatherly pride for you. You are not alone."

"Thank you, Elias. Yes, it is such a shame. That is why I am wearing my father’s old sword today."

"I wear our mother’s ruby ring for the same reason," Mirabel added, showing her left hand.

"Footman! Four glasses here!" Elias commanded one of the circulating attendants, and soon they were holding glasses with sparkling wine from the French Champagne region. "To your parents! I never had the luck to meet them, but I recognised early on what an exceptional young man they raised. May they look down on us from where they are now and find solace in your good fortunes!"

They drank solemnly to Theodore and Margaret Grey, lost in their memories for a brief spell. Then somebody coughed politely. Turning, Thomas stood straight. A Navy captain wearing the insignia of the Bath stood there, a stunning woman at his side. Thomas recalled him to have been amongst the first officers appointed as Companions. He noticed that his left hand was missing, replaced by a stuffed glove.

"Sir Thomas, please forgive my interruption in this moment. I am Captain Jerem… well, Sir Jeremiah Anson, late of HMS Asia. My felicitations!"

"Thank you, Sir Jeremiah! I also wish to congratulate you. May I introduce my wife, the Lady Grey? This is Captain Benning, late of Northumberland and Missus Benning, our dear friends."

Anson kissed first Angela’s and then Mirabel’s hand.

"I am enchanted, Missus Benning, Lady Grey! May I introduce the newly minted Lady Anson? She is far better known under her maiden name, Elizabeth Maynard."

Thomas had not heard the name before, but he nevertheless bowed to kiss the beautiful lady’s hand.

"Enchanted, milady! I must confess to my ignorance, having spent the last nine years either on shipboard or in Surrey."

Lady Anson smiled easily. "That is refreshing! I am known as a writer of short stories and theatre plays, the latter mostly for my good friend Anita Heyworth. May I also offer my felicitations? My husband told me of your feats, Sir Thomas. You have every right to be proud." Her eyes fell on Mirabel. "But we have met! At the Carters’, wasn’t it?"

Mirabel nodded and smiled. "Yes, I remember. You made quite an impression on us."

Lady Anson turned to her husband. "I like her! She has taste!" She giggled then and gave the startled Mirabel a hug. "I thought you were adorable. I still do. Oh, my! You are expecting?"

Mirabel eyes widened. "Yes. It’s still five months hence. Am I showing already?"

Lady Anson smiled and shook her head, letting her glorious brown tresses dance.

"No. It’s just that you are positively glowing. That’s how I can tell."

"My wife is a keen observer," Anson stated with a degree of pride. "Anyway, the reason for my intrusion upon you is that I would ask you for an interview. I have rejoined the staff of the First Naval Lord, at the Admiralty. I would ask you for an hour or two of your time to tell me about your experiences and insights regarding the Barbary Coast situation. Something will have to be done about those Beyliks soon, and you’ve had repeated dealings with them."

Thomas forced himself to become a Navy officer again. "With the greatest pleasure, Sir Jeremiah. We plan to stay with our friends for two more weeks before returning to Surrey. I shall hold myself ready for your summons."

Anson shook his head. "The Admiralty is overrun by unemployed officers and not a good place to talk. I was thinking more in the line of having you and your charming wife for dinner within the week. Perhaps Captain Benning and Missus Benning might also join us? I seem to recall that Captain Benning served as Hastings’s flag captain, and his insights will be of great help, too."

Thomas looked at Elias, who nodded. "Of course, we accept with the greatest pleasure. You may send your billet to Captain Bennings’s town house on Stanhope Gate, Mayfair."

"You can find my house on Upper Cheyne Row, Chelsea. Say, day after tomorrow?"

Again, Thomas looked at Elias for approval before he accepted.

"Second dogwatch then," Anson laughed. "It has been a pleasure meeting you ladies and gentlemen! We bid our farewell now. We have to reunite with our guests."

"It was our pleasure, Sir Jeremiah," Thomas assured him.

As the Ansons disappeared in the crowd, he looked at Elias.

"Do you know the man?"

"Heard of him. Commanded a fifth rate at Trafalgar, replacing his fallen captain. Lost his hand when they boarded a French third-rate. They posted him to the Sea Fencibles at first, but two years later he got the Syren frigate and made a name for himself on the Dutch coast, under Sir George Brent. Earned a small fortune in prize monies and was then appointed to the staff at the Admiralty. Was behind the landings in Portugal during the Peninsular War. He was posted to the Asia third-rate in ’12, I believe, and was part of the blockade of New York. That’s all I know."

"Important man?"

"I’d say. Besides, we have to accept the invitation. Angela would throttle me to death tonight if I made her miss the chance to have dinner with Lady Anson," Elias said to the emphatic nodding of his wife.

"I guess I’m ignorant about her, too,” Thomas admitted.

Mirabel smiled at him. "Well, you’ll know more of her soon. She is an astonishing woman, and I do not use those words lightly."

Meandering through the crowd they also found the Hothams, and Thomas paid his respects, also using the opportunity to introduce the former Mirabel Goodwin as his wife. Indeed, the Hothams remembered them, and they spent a few minutes in their company.

—————

The Greys and the Bennings overslept the next morning, a Monday. Mirabel had been in an amorous mood when they returned from St. James Palace, and it had been long after midnight before they finally fell asleep. Still, they'd had a good night’s sleep before they received the summons to breakfast at 11 a.m. A quarter hour later, they joined their hosts at table.

The breakfast was eaten in a lighthearted mood. Mirabel and Angela compared notes on the persons and personages they’d met the day before, but they soon focused on the dresses and headdresses they had seen. Meanwhile, Thomas and Elias discussed their impressions of the Prince Regent and compared them with the public image he had. To Thomas he had seemed cordial and marginally interested whilst it had also become quite clear that his life of debauchery was taking a toll on his health.

Angela was planning to pay a visit with a friend after breakfast, mostly to report about her visit to the court of St. James, and Mirabel was pressed into accompanying her. This left Thomas and Elias to their own devices, and they resolved to spend some time at their club.

As had to be expected, the newly minted Sir Thomas Grey, CB, KML, had to offer drinks of French brandy to all members in presence, for the gentlemen to toast him. The proprietor, the Marquis de St. Croix himself, joined in the felicitations, even offering another round of drinks on the house, before he sat down to amend the membership list with Thomas’s new knightly title.

Once the felicitations had run their course, Thomas and Elias sat to enjoy another glass of the St. Croix Réserve Privée whilst they perused the offered newspapers. Of course, the appointments of the New Year’s Honours were reported in those, and Thomas could see his name not quite at the bottom of the list, along with the latest news from the Vienna Congress which, it seemed, accomplished nothing whilst the delegates expended their energies dancing at balls and soirées. There was also a growing discontent in France, fuelled by the chaotic rule of an inept Bourbon monarchy whose noblest goal was to alienate friends and allies. There were even some writers who were weighing the possibility of Napoleon Buonaparte’s return to France and to power. That was an unsettling thought for Thomas and Elias, who had spent the better part of their lives fighting that man’s ambitions.

Both men enjoyed a light dinner at the club before they took a cab back to Stanhope Gate. Mirabel and Angela were still absent but returned only a half hour after them, having shared gossip for five hours with Angela’s friends and being thoroughly exhausted.

The evening was spent in leisure, with only a light supper and a game of Whist afterwards. None of them were serious card players, and they engaged in what Elias jokingly called, ‘random redistribution of pennies’, in other words, playing for fun only. This lasted until the fire died down after which the four friends retired to their respective bedrooms.

The friends had dinner invitations for the next days, beginning with the informal interview at Captain Anson’s house in the next evening. Thomas and Elias would then dine with Sir Harold Hastings at Boodle's a day later, before they would all attend a soirée at the house of Mister Augustus Leeds. There they would also see their erstwhile protégé Melinda Curry again, with young Owen Leeds, now her official fiancé, but also with Captain Oliver Curry, Melinda’s father. The latter had been set free after the Peace of Ghent had been signed, but he had immediately taken up residence in London to revive the trade of his remaining ships with Britain. This would be a delicate meeting, Thomas expected.

The coach ride to the Ansons’ the next evening was a tad over two miles long and still took them almost an hour through the crowded streets. The house was not overly large, but very nicely furnished, as they found out when Sir Jeremiah bade them enter. Lady Anson received them in the small foyer, a cute girl of perhaps six years at her side.

"Welcome to our home!" she beamed at them. "May I introduce our daughter Vanessa? Our son Robert has already gone upstairs; he’s only two."

The four visitors solemnly shook hands with the young girl who curtseyed politely. Mirabel bent her knees slightly and leant forward so that she was almost at eye level.

"Hello, Vanessa! What a pretty name for a pretty girl!"

The girl blushed and tried to hide her face in her mother’s skirt, but Lady Anson just ruffled her daughter’s head affectionately.

"She is named after my husband’s sister who is also her godmother. She is a bit shy around strangers, but she’ll thaw soon enough."

Sir Jeremiah then led the way to the dining room where a table was laid for seven. There were no place cards, but Lady Anson explained the seating order with a smile.

"The ladies sit at this end, and the gentlemen at the other. I expect the three captains to talk corsairs and xebecs. This will leave us ladies to discuss more important and civilised issues."

"As always, my dear wife is the voice of reason," Anson laughed as the ladies sat next to each other. "This will give us the chance to exchange our views without boring our ladies to death."

The food served over the three courses was decidedly West Country fare, Thomas thought, but it was a welcome change after a week of more pretentious cooking. In a short break of the discussion they were having about Algiers and its Dey, he commented on the food and the benefits of West Country cooking. Anson chuckled.

"Libby Mason became my cook and housekeeper when I was posted to Salcombe to command the Sea Fencibles, and I took her along to my Berkshire estate when I got posted to the Syren frigate in ’08. Since my wife also hails from Salcombe, we both enjoy her cooking."

"To Salcombe you say, Sir? I met a Captain Masters whilst under Lord Exmouth’s command. I believe that he served there too?"

"A friend?" Anson asked cautiously.

Thomas shook his head ruefully. "On the contrary I’m afraid, Sir. He was the senior captain of the inshore squadron and quite my bane."

Anson laughed easily. "He was my immediate predecessor at the Salcombe posting. According to Admiral Chalke who held command of the entire West Country Sea Fencibles, Captain Masters alienated every officer in his command and beyond. My father-in-law, Colonel Maynard, who is the local militia commander, had nothing good to say about him either. How’d he manage to get a ship?"

"He has a bishop for an uncle, Sir," Elias contributed. "I rather doubt that he will get another one. Lord Exmouth was not overly fond of him."

Anson shook his head, but then he looked at his wife. "Elizabeth, my dear, do you remember Captain Masters?"

She smirked noticeably. "That is a question I should rather not answer in the presence of guests. He called me ‘that mute’ when he was being polite. I remember Captain Butterworth slapping his face during an argument. Masters demanded an apology, but Butterworth just laughed at him. There was no challenge from Masters, though. Father sent a letter to Plymouth, reporting the incident and Masters’s ungentlemanly conduct, and he was relieved a month later."

"I never heard that story," Anson said, shaking his head. "Very sad. Then again, I owe my happiness to Masters being relieved. It is how I came to Salcombe and met my wife."

"You would have come anyway, Darling. You know Butterworth; a duel would've had but one outcome."

"So true, my dear. Well, that is the story of Captain Masters’s Salcombe adventures. I never met the man, of which I am now glad."

"You are to be envied, Sir," Thomas said drily.

Talk then switched back to the Barbary Coast and its potentates. Anson had quite a list of questions, and both Thomas and Elias did their best to give what information they had. In the end, Anson was content with the intelligence he had gained and the evening became a purely social event.

Lady Anson was clearly in her element, and it was unfathomable to Thomas that until a few years ago, she had been a mute, unable to articulate herself other than by writing. As it was, she was at home in London’s major salons, not just as a tolerated hanger-on, but as a much celebrated writer of short stories and theatre plays. Already, she had wheedled from Mirabel the story of the curate Caplan and his impotent anger against the mixed blood house daughter of the squire, namely Mirabel. She almost vibrated with excitement when Mirabel related how Thomas had put the man in his place, and her next remark confirmed Thomas’s suspicion.

"Oh, dear! What a perfectly despicable villain for a comedic piece! Do you think I might intrude on you for a day or three to see the true setting of these events? You see, I am a very visual person, and my writing comes from what I observe. Of course, we cannot have the simple conclusion you related, but I am thinking that your Mister Caplan’s bigotry might just bring the young woman to the squire’s attention. Or perhaps the squire’s dashing son? You see the irony? By his rants against her, he is instrumental in elevating her to a social status far exceeding his own."

"I am afraid that the true story is far less ironic," Mirabel started.

"Pish! We cannot have the heroine travel to some distant colony, with the villain simply gone when she returns! No, this whole situation must be resolved quickly, for the villagers to see the man fail. You may also trust me that nobody will be able to recognise you as the mould for the heroine."

"Oh, dear! You are set to make a heroine out of me?" Mirabel sighed. "I am not, you see?"

"Who is in real life, my dear? Well, right now, nothing is written, let alone put on a stage. I’ll have to speak with my good friend Anita Heyworth to see if she finds the plot viable. Then, of course, an actress must be found who fits the role, but I am clearly getting ahead of myself! Let us return to enjoying our evening as planned."

Yet, the good Lady Anson could not help herself asking more questions of Mirabel in the course of the evening, and Thomas had a rather flustered wife on his hands on the way back to Stanhope Gate.

—————

Admiral Hastings was clearly delighted to see his former captains. He received them at his club, Boodle’s, where they were wined and dined to perfection whilst trading news and gossip. Hastings nodded sagely when Thomas and Elias told him of the interview with Captain Anson and admitted to having dined with the man himself.

"Excellent officer!" he opined of Anson. "Wish we had more like him at the Admiralty. Had to talk him out of getting me involved down there. I’m sitting pretty here in London."

"I agree, Sir Harold," Elias nodded in return. "There are enough officers in dire need of commands who will jump at the chance to prove themselves."

"Quite!" Hastings smiled. "If Boney makes trouble again, they’ll find me ready. Playing the constable on the Barbary coast does not excite me nearly as much."

"Yes, that would be different, Sir Harold," Thomas agreed. "Besides, sending any of us to the Barbary coast would even incite more troubles. The Dey holds quite the grudge against us."

Hastings laughed brightly. "My dear Grey, you have to admit that you did your utmost to alienate the man. Let’s see — blowing his son to Kingdom Come, sinking his biggest ship, and then causing his nephew to drown like the rat he was! That is bound to antagonise the man, wouldn’t you agree?"

Thomas chuckled. ”Put like that, Sir Harold, you are making a valid point. All the better for me to stay west of the Strait."

"Probably wise, too," Hastings agreed. "Now, what about Looey the Umpteenth? What a nincompoop! Somebody has to tell the man we’re in 1815 now, not 1715."

"From what I heard at the St. Croix, the ministry is not too happy with him," Thomas contributed.

"His army is still Boney’s should the man ever try to give it another shot," Elias agreed.

Hastings nodded heavily. "That is something over which to worry. Let’s hope for the Frog Prince to come to his senses."

—————

The dinner invitation at the Leeds’ home proved less awkward than Thomas had feared. The planned marriage of his daughter Melinda to young Owen Leeds meant an important connection for Captain Curry to a man of great influence, and he openly admitted that things had turned out much to his advantage. Learning about the schooner Jenny Girl’s new owners, The Whitney & Sons shipping company out of Kingston, Jamaica, and about the deal that had made Thomas a shareholder, Curry became very interested and Thomas envisioned an expansion of Captain Whitney’s business connections in the future.

Captain Curry was also happy to learn that Suzette Curry, his natural daughter, had found a good home in Surrey. Of course, she had accompanied Mirabel to London as her confidential servant, and a meeting with Melissa and her father was arranged for the next afternoon.

The interesting news however was the planned wedding of young Owen Leeds to Miss Melissa Curry to which the Greys and Bennings were cordially invited. If possible, young Melissa’s sunny disposition showed even more, and young Owen Leeds was bursting with pride and happiness.

His sister Daisy showed none of that happiness, however. True, she had found a sisterly friend in Melissa, but sadly, her own future was still under the cloud of malignant rumours. She had been a slave of the Yemenite pirates after all, and no young man of consequence showed an interest in her, in spite of her father’s wealth. That was sad and hypocritical, Thomas thought, but he was at a loss over how anybody might help the girl repair her reputation.

Daisy perked up only once when Mirabel related her meetings with Lady Anson and with Anita Heyworth, and Thomas was proud of his wife when she promised the girl to give her an opportunity to meet those ladies herself. It would be good for her to meet other people.

Mister Leeds was also worried about the situation in France and the failure of Louis XVIII to remove senior Bonapartist officers from his army. He, like Elias, doubted their loyalty to the French king.

—————

By mid January, the Greys bid farewell to their London friends and boarded a swift barge for their transport back to Guildford. The weather was cold but dry, and in the early morning hours of the second day, the barge was breaking through thin ice whilst sailing up the River Wey Navigation to Guildford. Fortunately, they arrived before darkness and their waiting coachman, warned in advance of their arrival, delivered them safely to their home.

Over the next few days they settled into their home, not planning any travel in the coming months. Of course, the newly knighted Sir Thomas received quite a number of courtesy calls by their neighbours. He and Mirabel therefore saw fit to have a soiree at their home, a first for them, plunging them and their household into frantic activity. Fortunately, the additions to their staff bore fruit, with Lisette bearing the brunt of the food preparations and Suzette helping Jane with the setting of the tables, but also Mary with the readying of their guest rooms. Mirabel wrote the invitations but also the seating cards in her beautiful hand, and even Teresa helped with chores such as the polishing of silverware. Ada Barret, by virtue of her ailing legs, was relegated to purser duties, such as ordering the foods and wines from the Guildford merchants and the butcher, but whenever Thomas or Mirabel did not watch her, she hobbled about in the kitchen, directing the efforts of two tenants’ daughters whom Thomas had hired as kitchen helpers and who performed the cleaning and peeling involved with cooking for a large dinner party.

On February 2nd, the Bennings arrived, following Thomas’s invitation, for their first visit to Greys’ home. The Melroses had sent their apologies, citing prior obligations, but the Ansons had accepted the invitation and arrived a day after Elias and Angela. As Thomas learned, they had their country seat in Berkshire and had spent a week there to look after things.

The next day, February 4th, saw a brief peak of activity, but by evening, when the first guests arrived, all preparations were made, and a smiling Mirabel stood at Thomas’s side to greet their guests. Mister Thompson, the largest landowner around Guilford, arrived first, followed closely by Justice Cobb and his wife. Harriet-Anne Manning was next, greeting Thomas and Mirabel with a warm hug. She looked splendid.

"My dears, this is so exciting!" she gushed. "Elizabeth Maynard is here? You have to introduce me. The woman is a genius!"

"The Ansons will sit opposite from you, my dear," Mirabel assured their friend. "And yes, she is one of the most extraordinary women I have met."

By and by, several other neighbours trickled in and were greeted and then directed towards the dining room where a new, larger table made by their new carpenter was laid. The guest count was at 19 when the Egertons made their entrance. Mister Bartholomew Egerton had represented Guildford in the Commons for many years and had been a friend and ally of Thomas’s father Theodore, but also a stout supporter of Thomas throughout his career in the Royal Navy, and he was greeted cordially by him. His wife Madeleine was a pretty young woman of twenty-seven, less than half her husband’s age, and chafing under his — Thomas hoped unwarranted — jealousy.

"Mister Egerton, Mistress Egerton, welcome to our home. I trust you will find the evening entertaining," Thomas greeted them.

"I’m sure we shall, my dear Sir Thomas," Egerton boomed in his carrying voice, whilst his wife was hugging Mirabel.

"You look lovely, my dear!"

Mirabel smiled. "So do you, dear Madeleine. It is good to see you again."

Once they were settled around the dining table and the first course was served, a lively conversation commenced. Lady Anson was clearly the focus of everybody’s interest and she bore her fate with admirable grace and patience. Mister Egerton was rather upbeat as well, having scored a few successful motions in the last sessions of the Commons.