By the time evening settled over Kensington, the Halsworth household had taken on a quiet warmth that had been missing earlier in the day.
The dining room was softly illuminated by a pair of oil lamps hanging above the long polished table. Their golden light reflected gently off the silverware and glassware laid out with the meticulous precision that Hawkins insisted upon.
John took his seat at the head of the table, watching as the maids finished setting down the final dishes.
Roasted beef.
Fresh bread still warm from the oven.
Boiled potatoes glazed with butter.
Stewed vegetables arranged neatly in porcelain bowls.
And a bottle of dark red wine already uncorked and breathing beside Edward's place setting.
John looked at the spread before him and felt his stomach stir with appreciation.
I could really get used to this…
Even in his previous life he had never quite experienced meals like this on a regular basis. Breakfast earlier had already impressed him, but dinner appeared to be an entirely different level.
Across from him, William had already begun helping himself enthusiastically to the food.
Charlotte, seated beside her husband, watched the younger boy with mild disapproval.
"William," she said gently. "Try to show a little restraint."
"I am showing restraint," he replied with his mouth half full.
Edward chuckled quietly beside her.
John simply grinned and began serving himself as well.
For the first few minutes, the room remained mostly quiet.
The only sounds were the soft clink of cutlery and the occasional murmur as someone passed a dish across the table.
Everyone seemed content to focus on their meal after the long journey and the busy day.
John ate steadily, careful to maintain the level of decorum expected of a gentleman of the period, even if part of him wanted to devour the food far more enthusiastically.
Eventually, as the edge of their hunger faded, conversation slowly began to return to the table.
Charlotte was the first to speak.
"So," she said, glancing toward John thoughtfully, "how is it that you are here at all?"
John looked up from his plate.
Charlotte continued.
"The last we heard, you were supposed to be on a voyage somewhere in the Indian Ocean."
Edward and William also looked toward him with mild curiosity.
John shrugged lightly.
"There was… an incident," he said.
Charlotte's brow furrowed slightly.
"An incident?"
John nodded casually as he cut another piece of meat.
"Nothing particularly dramatic," he added. "Just enough to send me back home sooner than expected."
He deliberately left the explanation vague.
Charlotte studied him for a moment, clearly sensing that he was withholding details.
But after a brief pause, she sighed and nodded.
"Well… regardless of the reason," she said quietly, "I'm glad you returned safely."
Her expression softened slightly.
"At least you will be here to see Father properly laid to rest."
The mood around the table shifted subtly.
The warmth of the meal dimmed slightly under the shadow of the subject.
John noticed it immediately.
The atmosphere had grown too somber.
He quickly decided to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"So," he said, turning toward Edward, "how have things been in Manchester?"
Edward looked up from his plate.
"Quite well, actually," he replied.
"Oh?"
Edward nodded.
"We recently secured a rather large contract."
John leaned back slightly with interest.
"What sort of contract?"
"A shipyard," Edward explained. "They are currently constructing two vessels for the government and required a considerable amount of iron for the framework."
"That sounds promising."
"It is," Edward agreed with a small smile. "Shipbuilding contracts tend to be quite profitable."
William looked mildly interested as well.
"Steamships?" he asked.
Edward nodded.
"Yes, though I believe these particular vessels are intended for naval patrol duties."
John listened quietly.
Shipbuilding.
Steamships.
Those topics were becoming increasingly relevant to his thoughts.
Edward continued.
"During one of our breaks in negotiation, I happened to overhear something rather interesting."
John raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"The owner of the shipyard was speaking with one of his foremen about another order they had recently received."
"And?"
Edward wiped his mouth lightly with his napkin before continuing.
"It appears that Lord Pembroke has placed an order for several new steamships."
John's hand paused slightly as he reached for his glass.
"That so?"
Edward nodded.
"Yes. Quite a substantial order, from what I gathered."
Charlotte glanced between the two men.
"Lord Pembroke… isn't he the majority shareholder of Father's company?"
"Fifty-three percent," John replied automatically.
Edward nodded again.
"Exactly."
He took a sip of wine before continuing.
"When I heard that, I had intended to write to Thomas and ask him about it. If those ships were meant for the British Equatorial Trading Company, I was planning to offer him iron at a discounted rate."
Edward shrugged slightly.
"Unfortunately, before I could do so, the news of his death arrived."
John remained quiet for a moment.
From the outside, his expression appeared calm.
But inside, a small alarm bell had begun ringing.
Steamships…
Lord Pembroke ordering new vessels…
His father's business strategy immediately resurfaced in his mind.
The entire reason BETC had grown so rapidly in recent years was due to Thomas Halsworth's insight regarding the Suez Canal.
Most trading companies still relied heavily on sailing ships.
Sailing vessels performed poorly in the canal and struggled through the weak winds of the Mediterranean.
Steamships solved that problem entirely.
Thomas had proposed a hybrid strategy:
Steamships through the canal and Mediterranean.
Sailing vessels across the Indian Ocean.
Cargo transferred in Aden.
It had been a brilliant logistical solution.
And it had turned BETC into a rising giant in the trade industry.
But if Lord Pembroke was now ordering his own steamships…
John slowly took a sip of wine.
"Interesting," he said calmly.
Edward looked toward him.
"You were not aware of the order?"
John shook his head lightly.
"No. I haven't heard anything about new ships for the company."
Edward nodded.
"Well, it may not necessarily be related to BETC."
"Perhaps."
John gave a small shrug.
"I'll look into it."
But deep in the back of his mind, a red flag had already risen.
Three hundred thousand pounds.
The mysterious government capitalization mentioned in the documents he had discovered earlier.
Steamships were not cheap.
Ordering several of them would require enormous capital.
Could this be connected?
Was that money being used to finance Pembroke's ships?
John kept those thoughts carefully hidden behind a neutral expression.
The dinner conversation soon drifted toward lighter topics again.
Edward spoke about developments in Manchester's industrial district.
Charlotte shared stories about their travels and the preparations for their coming child.
William complained about his professors and his engineering coursework, which drew occasional laughter from the table.
To an outside observer, the scene might have appeared like any other ordinary family dinner.
Voices rising and falling.
Occasional laughter.
The warm clatter of dishes and cutlery.
Yet behind John's calm expression, his thoughts were quietly turning.
Pieces of a puzzle were slowly beginning to gather.
His father's secret investigation.
The mysterious Blackwood Orient Trading Company.
The missing information from the coroner.
And now…
Lord Pembroke ordering new steamships.
John leaned back slightly in his chair, listening to the ongoing conversation around him.
For the first time since arriving in London, he began to feel certain of one thing.
His father's death was very unlikely to have been a simple heart attack.