Business Over Brunch | Late Morning, Saturday Jan 1st- Xmas 1677

[Charles Audley]

The Woolsack was founded 1661 by 24 gentlemen including 3 dukes, as a meeting place of highest order. The present location was bequeathed to the club by John Earle, Bishop of Salisbury upon his death in '65.

 

An exclusive club, operating from a house at 15 The Mall. The building was of white stone and was U shaped in layout - visitors traversed a large paved courtyard with the stately house on either side as they approached the main doors. Dual doors of tremendous height, one of which was swung open during warmer months admitting members into the central lobby where a tome sat open upon a table with ink and quill nearby. Attendants stood nearby.

 

The primary purpose for the club was to provide a home away from home for a gentleman, where he might freely converse with his friends, avoid his and others' ladies, gamble in one of it's many gaming rooms, avail of a meal in its dining hall, or enjoy some solitude in it's considerable library upon natural or social philosophy.

 

Whistling jauntily to the tune of a vaguely remembered air from Italy, Charles sauntered towards the entrance. Today, at Wodehouse's advising, he had opted for grey justacorps and breeches over mint green waistcoat and stockings, with a plain black patch over his missing orbit. Sober clothing for sober surrounds, though the effect was perhaps somewhat undermined by the fact that it was Charles wearing it, hair tumbling carelessly down about his collar and his lips curved into a thin, almost challenging grin.

 

Not an establishment I ever thought to find myself darkening the door of.

 

Grin widening at the thought, Charles slipped nimbly inside.

 

"Lord Chatham, here to see Lord Winchilsea."

[Hope]

"Compliments of the New Year Sir." an impeccably attired steward stood next to a tome-sized guest book spoke, "Lord Winchilsea has signed for you. Peters, see Lord Chatham through wont you."

 

Peters would be the youth that had appeared at Charles side to relieve him of his outerwear - and provide the courtesy of a warmed towel to wipe away any ravages of travel from himself. These things attended to, Peters gave a small nod and escorted to the awaiting Earl.

 

Ascending a flight of stairs to the upper story, Charles was led down the broad wood-paneled hallway into the 'east wing', a hallway boasting portraits of the founding members, some still discharging the linseed scent of still drying oils. The doors were widely spaced, and most were invitingly open - peeks at the activities within were briefly available to the man as he passed. There was a large library, a billiards room (a hush upon these watching the balls kiss), a dining room from which the scent of silver beef and mustard sauce told of the nights menu... but what other rooms were further up the hall he did not find out, for here the steward turned and gave him a brief nod in indication that this was it.

 

The room was unsurprisingly decorated in masculine maroon upholsteries so common to rooms of this ilk. The walls were largely wood-panelled, with insets papered in cream with leafy patterns, upon each a large paintings of hunting scenes as well a depictions of great battles. A bank of windows upon the right look out upon the courtyard that guests had trod to arrive at the Establishments doors.

 

A dark haired gentleman looked in the new arrivals direction. He was drest in a navy and grey striped justacorps trimmed with silver detiailin. A peek of lavender velvet waistcoat showed at opened jacket, and at his cravat a complimentary amethyst winked. The man held a practised-composed expression, though his eyes never the less revealed some interest. "You must be Chatham I presume?" Daniel mused as he completed his once-over assessment of the other.

 

Charles letter had intrigued him.

[Charles Audley]

"Indeed," Charles said, pouring himself into a seat, "which, by process of deduction, makes you Winchilsea." He smiled, all open amiability.

 

The guise of the hearty, sporting gentleman, a creature of quick passion, inconstant moods, and no subtlety whatsoever was no stranger to Charles. It had the distinct advantage of matching his reputation and being a mostly accurate reflection of his character.

 

But 'mostly' is not 'entirely,' and that is an important distinction.

 

"First, let me begin by apologising for the, ah, shall we say unsolicited? The unsolicited nature of my letter," he began. His smile became somewhat abashed (quite a trick for a man with a face like Satan's younger brother, but one Charles felt was worth the long hours of practice.) "Probably not quite the right way to go about things, but my style can be a little, er, 'bull at a gate.'"

[Hope]

"In the flesh." Daniel replied with a wry smile of the pleasing arrogance of the statement.

 

Meanwhile his guest had not hesitation of availing himself of the Woolsacks comforts, taking a seat as though he owned it. Daniels eyebrow rose just a little, while he remained stood were he was at the fireside - still taking a measure of the man.

 

"That I see." the Earl agreed with the man's self-description, that much was readily apparent. Continuing his wry tone he commented, "One can imagine it saves you a great deal of time thereby."

 

"Mulled wine? Brandy? A cup of broth?" the latter was offered in jest. "The dining hall has not yet opened, we have time for a drink before we eat."

[Charles Audley]

Charles smiled internally at Finch's raised eyebrow. It was perhaps childish of him, but Charles had always enjoyed tweaking the noses of others, all the more so if he could do it simply by making himself comfortable.

 

No 'perhaps,' about it. It is childish. But what does that matter?

 

He shrugged fluidly and grinned in response to Finch.

 

"It keeps thing interesting, at any rate, though I suppose that I should make an effort to be more diplomatic." He laughed. "Or at least more subtle."

 

He cocked his head to consider the question of refreshment, an imp of mischief dancing in his mind and urging him to ask for broth, but in the end he opted to indulge a different whim.

 

"Mulled wine, if you please. I can't remember the last time I tasted some, and it does not seem like Christmas without."

 

Charles leaned back in his seat, perfectly content to wait in silence for his drink.

[Hope]

"I well imagine any subtler approach would be lost on Cadogan." Daniel critiqued and broached on the reason for the meeting. The man before him had made contact citing that Agent in the city, perhaps he and Arthur were much of a pair? "Yet for some there is a certain pleasure derived from the interplay of artfully chosen words."

 

Daniel distinctly felt that Chatham was playing poker face, despite his claim of audacity and initial show of it in the claiming of a chair. Curious. Thought the Earl, his own interest upon the edge of slipping entirely away.

 

Lifting his hand to silently stationed servant across the room he motioned for two of the order to be delivered. Then from pocket drew out the broadsheet. "They forecast winter to break early this year, good news for the Shipping community." he uttered as an aside, eyes seeming to return to the article as the room fell into slience.

[Charles Audley]

"He is somewhat... salt of the earth, shall we say?" Charles agreed with a grin, "but I suppose that his line of work fosters both a need and a fondness for clarity and directness." 

Waiting for his mulled wine, Charles swallowed a laugh at Finch's posturing with the newspaper. He was rather enjoying this little war of manoeuvre and positioning. He considered for a moment, and decided that he could afford a more committed response to the other man's aside.

"Good news for the French, certainly, assuming it is true," he offered idly, before moving to the meat of his answer. "I confess that I am ignorant of the shipping community, and so cannot comment on how they might greet the news."

He smiled guilelessly.

"Is that how you came to find yourself entangled with Arthur?"

[Hope]

"A fair point well made." Daniel conceded with a sideways tip of head.

Then the reliable topic of weather came to the fore; the foundation stone of English conversation.  "And our own ships also." Winchilsea appended then after a pause quizzed, "why did you say the French particularly?"

"Ah. Well yes to a degree." his fine features creased briefly, yet were released on an sigh-like inhalation of breath.  He made a dismissive sort of gesture, gems on fingers winked on the light, "I prefer business partnerships with my Peers of course…”

He looked at Chatham with a new thought occurring.  Ocean-savy Kingston had baulked at the idea of going into the maritime scheme with him, but perhaps this man before, him, one who admitted to knowing naught of shipping, was the perfect investor to his scheme. Heaven knew he needed bailing out!  Ah, but not to rush things. Never let them know when you are desperate. 

”Here arrive our drinks.”

[Charles Audley]

Charles shrugged fluidly at Finch's question. 

"An early end to winter means an early start to their campaign season, while we won't be ready to take the field until the summer regardless of the weather. They're going to throw their full weight at the Dutch and Spanish as soon as the ground is fit to march on, and if they win another victory in the field or, say, take Ostend, why, they'll have won the war before we'll have so much as fired a shot in anger."

That was the most likely outcome, in his opinion, and Charles thought it far from ideal. Quite apart from the fact that he fancied he would do rather well out of a war,  France was already the most powerful nation on the continent. Allowed to rectify its primary weakness by acquiring defensible frontiers, France would have complete impunity to build a colonial empire surpassing the wildest dreams of the Spanish. As an Englishman, Charles was opposed to this on principle.

He was about to take advantage of the opening Finch offered with his mention of peers, but delayed when the mulled wine arrived. He savoured the aroma for a moment before sipping at the drink. He had not lied when he said that he had a fancy for the tipple.

"Ah," Charles sighed in satisfaction. "That takes the bite out of the air."

He waited a moment for Finch to taste his own drink before continuing.

"But yes, it is always preferable to do business with peers. Other gentlemen understand things better, I find. Like debts, for instance."

[Hope]

“Ah, the looming wars...” And so Daniel understood an elemental difference between he and his fellow Earl.

Hearing Charles out, Daniel he could appreciate that the man spoke from a viewpoint of sound knowledge.  “And following on from the successes of the past year…” There had been considerable French victories in 77.  “…might spur even more than the peek of the first daffodils of spring.”  He gave a small smile indicating he was making a minor jest with that thought. 

“But do your calculations allow for the renewed loyalties gained via the Kings recent marriage. England is certainly not without its European resources… and some might suggest that our causes would be better served, bread still able to be buttered,  if our marksmen did not directly kill dead any Frenchmen.”

“Ah, but I had initially wondered that you were speaking of a French plunge into maritime commerce. The impediment of war, obstructing the ordinary channels of commercial is yet another obstacle for the modern entrepreneur.”

The conversation was paused for the delivery of drinks; the liquids sparkling appealingly within cut crystal glasses delivered to them upon highly polished silver tray.  Silently Daniel lifted his own glass in silent toast, and as the servant departed picked up the conversation again – or more correctly Charles picked up the topic – with a cryptic manner of comment.

“Yes I dare say.” Daniel replied (still with no idea that Charles possessed inside information of his success, or lack of it).  “But if everyone is rallying to war there shall be scant talk of business this year at all.”  

[Charles Audley]

"I would disagree, my lord, that our interests are in anyway served by French victory."

Charles paused for a moment, considering his arguments. He had never had to plainly lay out why he felt French expansion had to be curtailed, but he had always enjoyed a good debate.

And it might be useful to do so without any real pressure, as it were.

"You are a man of commerce, so I shall speak in that idiom," he began. "If they are allowed to make gains in the Low Countries, the French will open the Scheldt to navigation, drawing trade away from Amsterdam and, more pertinently to us, London. They'll control most of the ports we trade with the continent through. What happens if they start playing with tariffs, hmm? Perhaps worst of all, with defensible borders, they'll have a free hand to expand in Africa, India and the New World. There is a reason the English nightmare has long been a single continental hegemon, and that is what we would be facing." Charles shook his head. "Oh, a unified Empire might be able to constrain them, but the Germans are never unified, and have to worry about the Turks on their eastern border as well. And beyond them? Italy is a patchwork of minor statelets, Spain nought but the rotting remnants of a once great empire, Sweden a French ally, and the Commonwealth and Russia too far to serve as counterweights."

He shook himself.

"Now, the mere threat of our entering the war will prevent them from realising all their goals, even should they bring the Dutch to terms before we can enter in earnest. But should they force a peace early next year, I can all but guarantee we will have to fight them a decade from now anyway. Le Roi will not stop."

The conversation moved on with the arrival of drinks, and Charles suppressed a smile as Winchilsea refused to take the offered bait. He swirled his wine, and changed tack to a more blunt approach.

"Well," he said brightly, "you may rest somewhat more easily, then. You are no longer in debt to Arthur."

[Hope]

“You have me wrong Lord Chatham, I in no way support French over our Kings new alliances.”  If CR saw fit to tighten the Dutch connections via Princess Mary, then any prudent peer would do likewise. “I am only saying that one would hope not to burn any bridges.”  

Vocal support was what this man would lend, so to spare possible recriminations if tables were soon to be turned.

His guest had some much to say on the topic.  “I concur with your deductions, why it would make a fine speech at The Lords.” Daniel spoke on, “yet I hold that is would serve England best to be unseen in the thwarting of France’s ambition.  Yet after such a show of our Orange support we might be pressed to hold plausible deniability.

“There is good reason that the Lord above blessed Englishmen with an Island Nation. Our separateness is our greatest strength.”  

[… le Roi will not stop]

“Of that I agree entirely.” Soberly he said.

“Excuse me, what do you mean my debt?” striking an offended tone Daniel stood a little higher.  What had Arthur done, at the very least it was a breech of gentlemanly code to discuss the debts of one Lord to another.

[Charles Audley]

"Not half a decade ago we were at war with the Dutch. Now we are their great hope," Charles countered. "Bridges between nations, my lord, rarely stay burned."

He shook his head as Finch suggested that they endeavour to aid the Dutch subtly.

"That point I was endeavouring to make was that French ambitions cannot be checked invisibly. If matters are to progress to our benefit, we shall have to act openly."

Charles raised a placatory hand as Winchilsea took offence at the more frank approach.

"I shall spare you the boring details. Arthur was an associate of my late father, and I sought him out to discharge my... filial obligations, shall we say? There were matters to redress. Arthur would not accept anything he thought of as charity, but at length he agreed to let me purchase a debt. Incidentally, he did not tell me your name until afterwards."

Giving Finch a conciliatory smile, he continued. 

"Now, Arthur is a business man, and he attributes a great deal of importance to such things. But you and I are gentlemen, and we know better, do we not? A gentleman's word in these matters is an iron guarantee, and the sole cause of any delay in repayment is the difficulty of converting sufficient of one's fortune, so often bound up in property and the like, to ready cash. But merchants lack perspective, and thus sympathy." Charles clucked his tongue. "I digress. Ah well. 'Tis is a trifling sum, and you need not concern yourself with it."

He settled back to await Winchilsea's reaction.

[Hope]

"What will come next, an alignment with the Turks." Winchelsea gave a bitter laugh, he'd had enough of the subject, how did he manage to have such bad luck!  

Yet the follow-up topic was possibly worse.  Chatham begun to explain...

 - distantly a gong sounded, and wordlessly Winchelsea picked up his paper and moved towards the sound (expecting Chatham to follow thru to the dining hall)-

 "You paint Arthur as quite the innocent, you forget that I have met the man too.  It seems highly unlikely that it was a mere coincidence, more likely an orchestration upon his part.  So, you are saying that you now possess the painting?"

"It is as you say, mere money a minor part of it. The embarrassment of it however... something else."  Daniel was talking rather vaguely, wondering how much more the other man knew. 

[Charles Audley]

"Unlikely," Charles offered drily. "The Turks, if I recall correctly, are vaguely aligned with the French, as neither cares over much for the Austrians. Strange friends for a king who likes to call himself 'most Christian,' but there you are." He laughed.

A gong sounded, and Winchilsea moved off. Charles finished his wine and rose to follow. He shrugged easily at the other man's question.

"I have not yet arranged to move it from his offices. You may collect it there at your leisure, if you wish."

Charles nodded understandingly as Finch spoke of embarrassment and lowered his voice to reply, answering vagueness with sympathy.

"Well, embarrassment need be a concern only if the matter becomes widely known, no? And I do not think you need fear on that count. It is no longer any business of Arthur's, and I have inclination to bruit it about."

[Hope]

"You keep yourself well informed." was the returning comment. 

 

The dining room was most spacious, set with twenty or even thirty small sized tables and dressed with white linen and shining silverware.  As of yet it was only the two of them arrived.  Perhaps the crowds would happen after? Daniel walked into the centre of the tables, electing a very visible vantage point  and chose a seat with view of the door.  

 

"That is very Christian of you." he was wary as it seemed that Chatham was doing him a good turn.  The patched & politically savvy man of the world was plainly no church charity worker, what did he want?   "Then I shall send a cart with the next break in the weather, my wife when she returns shall be most pleased to see it's return.  Was wedding gift from her late father, and the artist rather well recognised as it happened. Not that there is much of a market for that sort of thing. More sentimental value I think." 

 

He waited for it, for Charles to place his demands for being so accommodating. 

[Charles Audley]

Charles shrugged.

"I am but lately returned from the Continent. It is simply a matter of keeping one's eyes and ears open."

Well, that and looking at a map, but mentioning that would have been unnecessarily condescending.

Charles settled himself down at the table, barely restraining the impulse to laugh at being described as Christian. Finch meant it ironically, no doubt, but the descriptor still fit so poorly that Charles found himself heartily amused.

"Very good. I shall send a note to Cadogan to let him know," he said, mastering himself. He let the other man's comments on the value of the painting pass without remark. 

"A beautiful establishment," he said instead, gesturing at their surrounds in an oblique hint at his purpose here.

[Hope]

It was then that the strangest thing happened. 

Nothing.   No “use our fathers influence to –“.   No “the soul of your first born son.”

Chatham merely said he’d see the painting released, and then begun admiring the architecture?!

“Not one of Wrens, I can’t actually remember who’s building they said this was.“ Daniel could hardly keep the surprise off his face at that moment.  Have I misjudged you Lord Chatham?  The somewhat defensive stance he’d taken from the outset demanded a rethink.

“You might want to join the Woolsack yourself if you intend to become a man of politics. While much is spoken in The House, it is here, well not this room so much, that the most interesting debates take place. The absence of detailed minutes being taken certainly does free up debaters tongues.  That, and the liberal glass full.”

All said while studying the man before him.       

[Charles Audley]

When Charles had first met Cadogan, he had told the other man that there was an art to blackmail. This was not blackmail, merely blackmail-adjacent, but the same principles applied. There was nothing Charles could leverage out of Winchilsea that would in the long-run be worth incurring the other's ill will. His friendship could be useful, however, and the investment was small if Finch proved to be a weasel.

"Well, whoever the architect, he did good work," Charles observed cheerfully, cocking his head as Finch continued his observations.

"'In vino, veritas,' hmm?" he laughed. "And I can see how the lack of records might encourage one to be more... free in expressing one's opinions, shall we say? As to my ambitions," he shrugged and smiled ruefully. "I had thought to be a man of consequence rather than a man of politics, but I suppose one cannot be the former without also being the latter."

Charles leaned back in his chair.

"With that said, I am minded to take your advice. How does one go about joining this fine establishment?"

[Hope]

"Never a truer statement said.” Daniel agreed with a wry smile.

“Consequence is naturally, attatched to politics, why really any achievement at Whitehall might be attributed to this one or that one’s posturing.  Ah, you must think me a jade to speak so cynically, and yet I with a man of ideals as father!”

“Oh. Ha, well one needs to be nominated by a member.” Daniel was perhaps making a gesture….    

 

[Charles Audley]

Charles shrugged.

"I see no cynicism in seeing the world as it is, and it certainly does not prevent one from having ideals and striving to uphold them." He laughed. "But perhaps I am thoroughly jaded myself, and my opinions thus tainted."

He nodded along as Finch explained the requirements for becoming a member of the Woolsack, carefully preventing himself from showing any outward reaction to the other's words. Things were progressing nicely, and it would not do to spook the game at this late stage. No, maintain the amiable posture that had brought him this far, and play it to the hilt.

"Ah well," he said, smiling, "I shall just have to strive to prove myself a worthy addition, then."

[Hope]

"We, the rising generation of politicians draped in our jaded gowns... what hope is there for freshness and spontaneous success in England?"  Spoke Daniel with the air of a man who had been disappointed, somehow. 

A silent shoed attendant approached and refilled their glasses with more of the same.  "Would you like to see the wine list milord?" it was offered, "Today we have Lamb and leek pie, or Roast Beef with puds."  While there might be just two options of meal, the wine list was twenty or thirty strong!   There was a large showing of English wines of various vintages from up and down the country, some half dozen French, Spanish and Italian, eight or nine German varieties, and just one from the new world.

The Chancellors son meanwhile took a pause as he considered the man opposites reply.  "The beef please. I shall allow my guest to settle upon our wine." 

And once done he took up the subject again.  "It is something of a given that the nominator holds the support of the one he nominates."  he met Charles eyes and tipped his head slightly, before taking another sip of his drink. "So any audition is something of a two sided thing." Were his own politics something the other man would support? 

[Charles Audley]

Charles shrugged.

"Personally, I've never seen anything preventing one who sees the world in all its varied shades of grey from striving to shape it to better fit his principles. Indeed I would argue that the former is necessary if you would seek the latter."

Charles was no great authority on wine, but he had the great advantage of being widely travelled, which had given him a fairly good idea of what he liked. He scanned the wine list for a familiar name, and hid a smile as he found one.

"The Haut-Brion will do nicely, I think," he said, naming a good claret he had been rather fond of. He settled back, waiting for Finch to resume their conversation.

"Patronage is an old dance, and one not unfamiliar to me," he offered easily in reply.

[Hope]

"One must visit hell to aspire to heaven..." Daniel conjured a phrase, "yet I concur it is the numerous grades in between that most live between. The greys are more difficult to distinguish between, and thus progress harder to measure." 

A small nod was given to the servant, endorsing Charles choice of wine, and then there were largely alone again... their topic resumed.

"I dare say?" There was a question in Daniel's reply, one that might invite Charles elaboration. 

"For my own part, I shall be plain about it and reveal I am woefully fresh from a failed business venture. One that left me in debt to your mutual 'friend', the saving grace being that the enterprise was largely unknown at court."  Francis Kirke had known, and advised him against. 

"You would know that my Father is highly achieved in the practise of law, and my younger brother, whom I had ever thought of as the lesser or even black sheep of the family - now appears to have a penchant similar.  It is thus my interest to make a mark for myself otherwise.  Yet a niche is harder thing to discover. For many years success with the ladies was enough, but now..."  well he'd not been so successful lately for one, and perhaps it was age and maturity that had him wanting more.  

 

 

 

[Charles Audley]

Charles heard the unspoken request for elaboration in Winchilsea's idle comment, and obliged.

"I know how the game is played, and I am prepared to abide by the rules, written and unwritten, when I am seated at the table."

He listened quietly as Finch continued, laying out his circumstances. He had not expected to end up playing confidant. It was not a role he thought himself particularly well-suited for, but it was an opportunity, and Charles knew but one way of dealing with those. He leaned back in his seat, gathering his thoughts.

"A man needs purpose," he agreed, "and a stage suitable for his talents, lest that which should elevate him becomes a chain on the soul." Charles smiled amiably. "Women are fascinating, charming creatures I find, but I would agree that they cannot satisfy a man's more spiritual needs, especially as he matures. As for your niche, well, I fear I am mostly ignorant of commerce, and I do not know you well enough to offer anything but the most general of advice, but I will say this. Should it come to war, certain commodities will find themselves in high demand. Copper and tin for cannon. Broadcloth for uniforms. Charcoal, saltpetre and sulphur for powder. A man who could arrange for that demand to be met effectively and efficiently would do his country a great service, and make a tidy profit thereby, as is right and proper." He shrugged. "Beyond such musings, I regret that, as things stand, I can only offer a ready ear."

He cocked his head and smiled a thought occurred to him.

"Unless, of course, you decide to seek your niche under the colours. I might well be able to offer some assistance in securing an appropriate commission."

Charles did not think it likely that Finch would seek a military career, but there was no harm in bringing it up, surely.

[Hope]

Daniel digested the elaboration without further reply other than faintest nod of head.  There was a 'getting to know the other' going on, and Daniel felt at something of a disadvantage due to the fact that Charles was in possession of facts on his finances that were very private (Not even his wife was aware!)

He made a choice then, to provide his own elucidation, for rather than enemy Charles Audley seemed to be open to the alternative.  Perhaps even, in time co-conspirator?  Ah but to early to say, its a fool who jumps too far ahead.  

Charles reply was well considered.

“Initially I was keen to invest in the logistics of it all, the chain of supply itself, namely shipping.  But your notion of commodities has a pleasing tangibility.  One might even say supply of such things is patriotic.”  Was his reply.  “Of course there are already men vested in such, and with many years of experience in it even. A new comer to the field would require some unique edge, is my thinking.”

For as much as Daniel was intent not to follow the family practise into Law, he was a thinking man still, with a interest in the academic.  He desired a mental win as much as anything practical.

Following a bauble of laugher Daniel took a sip of his drink. “You are a comedian too!” He did not take Charles proposition of entering military service as anything but a jest.   

[Charles Audley]

Charles shrugged.

"The scale of what would be required should we come to blows with France will dwarf that which has gone before. There will be room, I think, for a man with an eye for the main chance." He smiled at Finch. "Particularly one who enjoys access to the rarified atmosphere of the halls of power." He gestured negligently at their surrounds.

He laughed along with Finch, gently swirling his wine.

"I thought so, but didn't want to presume," he admitted easily. Raising his glass, he offered a toast.

"Well then, to prosperous ventures and a prosperous New Year."

[Hope]

 

"There is that." Sometimes an elementary truth needs to be voiced to be appreciated.  Charles reply at that moment, while simple, was just what Daniel needed to be reminded of. 

Glasses were clinked, the toast enjoyed even as their plates and the ordered bottle of wine arrived.  The necessary ceremonies were observed; opening and sampling of the bottle, the offering of pepper grinder, gravy etc... 

These things completed Daniel selected the appropriate knife and fork. "It occurs to me that I might call upon the practical services of one Mr Cadogan, especially now that a certain artistic obstacle to the relationship has been... ah, placated.  How agreeable did you find him this Christmas? Do you think he may be convinced."   

[Charles Audley]

Charles had in fact given similar advice to Cadogan, and had thought that worthy at least open to considering the idea. Pausing his methodical dissection of the beef, he took a sip of the wine to buy a moment to consider his phrasing.

"He has mentioned to me that he is considering expanding his efforts, and he would be a boon to the logistics of any such effort. I believe the fundamental premise of the idea would not be laughable to him, and I see no reason he would not be amenable to the enterprise." He shrugged. "As for the personal aspect, I do not think he would find it insulting for me to say that I doubt that would worry him over much, were he satisfied with the practical."

[Hope]

"You have no small confidence in the man, may I assume he holds similar confidence in yourself." Daniel returned quietly, mulling over the fresh ideas as they formed in his mind. 

"Financially, of course, a figure need be raised...  my lessons have taught that a wise businessman does not roll the dice of enterprise with his own money on the table." he took up a Yorkshire pud and dipped it in gravy, "I feel confidant I can secure a contract for supply." he dunked it a couple more times, "how do you see yourself fitting into the equation." here Finch took a generous bite.