Mightier Than the Sword (The Clifton Chronicles 5)

“Not a good idea,” said Giles firmly. Emma looked surprised. “The chairman should be seen on the sundeck, relaxing and enjoying herself, which is far more likely to convince the passengers they have nothing to worry about.”

“Good thinking,” said the admiral.

Emma nodded. She was about to rise from her place to indicate that the meeting was over, when Philip Webster, the company secretary, mumbled, “Any other business?”

“I don’t think so,” said Emma, who was now standing.

“Just one other matter, chairman,” said Giles. Emma sat back down. “Now that I’m a member of the government, I have no choice but to resign as a director of the company, as I’m not allowed to hold a post of profit while serving Her Majesty. I realize it sounds a bit pompous, but it’s what every new minister signs up to. And in any case, I only joined the board to make sure Major Fisher didn’t become chairman.”

“Thank God he’s no longer on the board,” said the admiral. “If he was, the whole world would know what had happened by now.”

“Perhaps that’s why he wasn’t on board in the first place,” suggested Giles.

“If that’s the case, he’ll keep shtum, unless of course he wants to be arrested for aiding and abetting terrorists.”

Emma shuddered, unwilling to believe that even Fisher could stoop that low. However, after Giles’s experiences both at school and in the army, Emma shouldn’t have been surprised that once Fisher had begun to work for Lady Virginia, they hadn’t come together to assist her cause. She turned back to her brother. “On a happier note, I’d like to place on record my thanks to Giles for serving as a director of the company at such a crucial time. However, his resignation will create two vacancies on the board, as my sister, Dr. Grace Barrington, has also resigned. Perhaps you could advise me of any suitable candidates who might be considered to replace them?” she said, looking around the table.

“If I might be allowed to make a suggestion,” said the admiral. Everyone turned toward the old salt. “Barrington’s is a West Country firm with long-standing local connections. Our chairman is a Barrington, so perhaps the time has come to look to the next generation, and invite Sebastian Clifton to join the board, allowing us to continue the family tradition.”

“But he’s only twenty-four!” protested Emma.

“That’s not much younger than our beloved Queen when she ascended the throne,” the admiral reminded her.

“Cedric Hardcastle, who’s a shrewd old buzzard, considered Sebastian good enough to be his personal assistant at Farthings Bank,” interjected Bob Bingham, winking at Emma. “And I’m informed that he’s recently been promoted to second-in-command of the bank’s property division.”

“And I can tell you in confidence,” said Giles, “that when I joined the government, I didn’t hesitate to put Sebastian in charge of the family’s share portfolio.”

“Then all that’s left for me to do,” said the admiral, “is propose that Sebastian Clifton be invited to join the board of Barrington’s Shipping.”

“I’d be delighted to second that,” said Bingham.

“I confess that I’m embarrassed,” said Emma.

“That will be a first,” said Giles, which helped lighten the mood.

“Shall I call for a vote, chairman?” asked Webster. Emma nodded, and sat back in her chair. “Admiral Summers has proposed,” continued the company secretary, “and Mr. Bingham has seconded, that Mr. Sebastian Clifton be invited to join the board of Barrington’s.” He paused for a moment before asking, “Those in favor?” Every hand rose except Emma’s and Giles’s. “Those against?” No hands were raised. The round of applause that followed made Emma feel very proud.

“I therefore declare that Mr. Sebastian Clifton has been elected as a member of the board of Barrington’s.”

“Let’s pray there will be a board for Seb to join,” Emma whispered to her brother once the company secretary had declared the meeting closed.

* * *

“I’ve always considered he was up there with Lincoln and Jefferson.”

A middle-aged man, dressed in an open-necked shirt and sports jacket, looked up but didn’t close his book. The few strands of wispy fair hair that were still in evidence had been carefully combed in an attempt to hide his premature baldness. A walking stick was propped against his chair.

“I apologize,” said Giles. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“No problem,” said the man in an unmistakable southern drawl, but he still didn’t close his book. “In fact I’m always embarrassed,” he added, “by how little we know of your country’s history, while you seem to be so well informed about ours.”

“That’s because we no longer rule half the world,” said Giles, “and you look as if you are just about to. Mind you, I wonder if a man in a wheelchair could be elected as president in the second half of the twentieth century,” he added, glancing down at the man’s book.

“I doubt it,” said the American with a sigh. “Kennedy beat Nixon because of a TV debate. If you’d heard it on the radio, you would have concluded that Nixon won.”

“Nobody can see you sweat on the radio.”

The American raised an eyebrow. “How come you’re so well informed about American politics?”