“I’ve been told that discussing different points of view regarding scientific matters is how advances come to be made,” responded Charlotte.
“Averywise observation, madam!” responded von Stockhausen. “Have you an interest in botany?”
“I draw the occasional flower, but have no claim to any expertise on the subject,” she replied, which earned a round of polite chuckles.
“I would very much like to see some of your artwork, Lady Charlotte,” said one of the other Royal Society scholars with a gallant smile.
Be careful what you wish for,thought Charlotte as she inclined a gracious nod. “Actually, it is my young ward who has quite a talent for botany and botanical illustration. I have brought him to the gardens at Kew on several occasions to sketch . . .”
The talk quickly turned to plants, and the gentlemen all offered suggestions concerning what species might interest a curious boy. Von Stockhausen, in particular, made some interesting recommendations. He seemed very knowledgeable on flowering plants, and seemed to have a good eye for color and detail.
“Thank you for the advice,” she said, once everyone had finished. “I know you have serious scholarly subjects to discuss, so I should allow you to get back to your work.”
Spotting a footman circulating through the crowd with a tray of sparkling wine, Sir Robert quickly said, “Allow me to offer you some refreshments, Lady Charlotte. The Society always serves a very fine champagne.”
She accepted his arm. Wrexford was nowhere to be seen among the sea of strangers . . .
“I’ve heard the Americans are represented very well at the symposium,” Charlotte observed, once they had their drinks in hand, “despite the long ocean voyage and the troubles between our countries.”
“Indeed! We are all friendly allies in the world of science,” he responded. “It’s a pity the politicians and military men aren’t as collegial as we are. Our government takes pains to paint the Americans as an uncouth, belligerent people. However, I find them very interesting and erudite.”
Charlotte took a sip of her wine. “Yes, generalities are rarely accurate. I had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Hosack at the Royal Botanic Gardens, and he strikes me as a very admirable gentleman. So it’s always best to judge for yourself, isn’t it?”
“Indeed,” repeated Sir Robert, lifting his glass in salute. “Would you care to meet the rest of his countrymen? I believe they are in the adjoining room, admiring one of the palace’s grand treasures—the eighteenth-century musical clock known as the ‘Temple of the Four Great Monarchies of the World.’ ”
“I would very much like that.” She added a coy smile. “As well as to see the grand clock.”
“This way.” Looking pleased by her interest, Sir Robert led her through the archway and into the adjoining Cupola Room, another magnificent chamber designed in the Italianate style and decorated with murals by William Kent.
“Ah, there is Captain Daggett standing with Dr. Hosack at the far side of the pedestal,” pointed out Sir Robert.
Charlotte would have had no trouble picking out the naval officer, even if he hadn’t been in uniform. His well-weathered face, scoured by wind and salt into austere angles, stood out in a sea of pale, soft-featured scholars. Sun had bronzed his skin and gilded his auburn hair with golden highlights.
In response to something Hosack said, he shifted slightly, setting off a rippling of lithe muscle beneath his coat.
A tiger among toothless tabbies,thought Charlotte.
Did that make him dangerous? She was quick to remind herself that appearances could be deceiving. There was likely a murderer among the guests tonight, but it would be foolish to leap to conclusions.
As Sir Robert led her closer, Daggett turned and she caught a flash of his ocean-blue eyes. Her flesh began to tingle, as if touched by the cold steel of a naval saber.
“Lady Charlotte, how lovely to see you again.” Hosack, to his credit, schooled his expression to hide any hint that their acquaintance was more than superficial. “May I present my fellow American—and scholar—Captain Samuel Daggett.”
“So for the duration of this symposium, the pen shall be mightier than the sword, eh?” quipped Sir Robert. “Ha, ha, ha.”
“A sword should only be unsheathed as a last resort,” replied Daggett. He acknowledged Charlotte with a small bow. “Milady.”
“Quite right,” agreed Hosack. “May our two countries settle their differences with words, not steel.”
“You must have a very keen interest in botany, sir, to have managed to arrange all the official permissions to be here,” said Charlotte.
“A sailor has much time for solitary study,” responded Daggett. “As it happens, my presence here has a very practical purpose. Like Dr. Hosack, I’m interested in the medicinal use of plants. Men at sea can fall prey to a vast array of illnesses. You have only to look at scurvy and how we’ve learned to conquer it—with lemons, limes, and oranges—to understand the importance of botany. So attending symposiums like this one, as well as being part of a scientific society when I am ashore, allows me to further my knowledge and perhaps prevent needless deaths.”
“A very admirable sentiment,” said Sir Robert. “And I’m sure it’s one appreciated by your government.”
“An officer’s duty is to serve his country.”
Charlotte couldn’t argue with the captain’s sentiments. But he struck her as a bit of a prig, and someone with a ruthless dedication to rules and regulations. And in her experience, freedom of imagination was what helped to spark creativity. She would be greatly surprised if Daggett made any momentous scientific discovery.
