“Mathematics simplified the universe for Jasper,” added Cordelia. “He liked its world better than our unruly everyday existence.”
“Jasper believed that his new innovation—”
“Which was what?” demanded Wrexford.
“I can’t answer that exactly,” replied Carrick, “for he never explained it in any detail. However, he did say that he had discovered the key to creating longer and wider bridges, and that such innovations would revolutionize travel, making it faster and cheaper for people and goods to move from place to place—especially as he believed that locomotives will soon replace horses and carriages.”
“I understand the economics of what you’ve described, and it’s clear that such a transformational discovery would be worth a fortune,” mused Sheffield.
“But that’s just it,” exclaimed Carrick. “Jasper didn’t care about the money! He wanted his innovation to better the lives of ordinary people. He became very upset on discovering that many of the contracts for work on the Bristol Road Project were given out based on bribes rather than expertise. And that made him even more morally opposed to licensing the rights of a patent to rich investors, who would then make a fortune building the new structures for municipalities and countries—”
“Only to have the municipalities and countries have to charge tolls or other fees to recoup their investments, and then continue to reap the profits,” interjected Mademoiselle Benoit. “Thus ensuring that travel remained too expensive for the common man.”
Which begged the question . . .
“So what,” responded Charlotte, “was Milton’s solution to the dilemma?”
CHAPTER 22
There was a long moment of silence as Carrick fiddled with the folds of his cravat. “To gift his innovation to the French radicals. During our visit to France to attend the Parisian scientific society’s symposium on travel, he met a group of social agitators and admired their idealism.”
“Our society’s president was the go-between,” explained Mademoiselle Benoit. “Jean-Paul Montaigne and one of the leaders of the radicals have been friends since childhood, and Montaigne shares the group’s egalitarian beliefs. In fact . . .”
She looked to Carrick for an instant and then blew out her breath. “In fact, he is a staunch supporter of Napoleon and the reforms the former emperor made in France to break the stranglehold the idle rich had on the country.”
Wrexford felt a chill slither down his spine at the mention of Napoleon. “But the emperor is no longer in any position to change the world—for better or for worse. Now that he has been exiled to Elba, his only empire is a tiny speck of an island off the coast of Italy.”
“Which lies only 170 miles from France,” murmured Mrs. Guppy.
The earl frowned. He wanted to dismiss the idea as absurd. But he had talked to enough of his military friends to know that the situation in Europe was more fraught than the British government wished to admit. Despite all the eloquent talk of camaraderie and cooperation at the Peace Conference taking place in Vienna, the European rulers were at each other’s throats. The Continent needed to be rebuilt from the rubble of war, and they were all vying for any advantage that would make them more powerful and prosperous than their neighbors. . .
It was Charlotte who gave voice to the question that was forming in his head.
“Are you saying that the radicals plan to use Milton’s innovation in some way to help Napoleon return to the throne?”
“Yes!” Carrick, Mrs. Guppy, and Mademoiselle Benoit all answered in unison.
Cordelia broke the stunned silence with an uncertain laugh. “Surely you’re jesting.”
“I wish that were so,” replied Carrick. “The radicals have been secretly negotiating with Russia to sell them Milton’s innovation for an ungodly sum of money. Tsar Alexander is desperate to modernize his country, and the fact that Russia has very little sea access limits its opportunities for international commerce. The ability to build a sophisticated network of roads and bridges within his vast empire and then connect it with the rest of Europe would make Russia an economic power.”
“And then,” intoned Mademoiselle Benoit, “the radicals plan to give that money to Napoleon to finance his return to France.”
“The people of France—” began Sheffield.
“The people of France will welcome him back with open arms,” said Mademoiselle Benoit.
Wrexford didn’t disagree. The Bourbon king been restored to the throne by the Allied Coalition, but he was much despised by his subjects.
“You value facts, milord, so allow me to explain how we know all this,” offered Mrs. Guppy.
A nod.
“During the time when Milton and Oliver were visiting Paris for the scientific symposium, Isabelle—that is, Mademoiselle Benoit—overhead Montaigne explaining to his radical friend that Milton possessed a momentous secret, one that would be worth a fortune. The two of them then came up with a plan to convince Milton to put his idealism into action. Montaigne knew Milton admired many of the reforms made by Napoleon, and he was clever enough to craft a speech describing a utopian vision of Europe rising from the ashes of war into a confederation of prosperous, peaceful nations all tied together by Milton’s wondrous bridges and improved roads.”
“It was seductive. Jasper imagined himself as a hero for the ages,” said Carrick. “I tried to point out the realities of Napoleonic France and the fact that it was not all sweetness and light. But he chose to believe only what he wanted to believe.”
A sigh, as he turned with an apologetic shrug to Cordelia. “Jasper had changed over the last year. An arrogance had crept into his once self-deprecating demeanor. It was as if his undeniable scientific genius had made him think that his view on any subject was the correct one. There was no arguing with him once his mind was made up.”
