## Chapter 182: Arthur’s Wind (4K)
Under a misty autumn drizzle, Arthur, sporting a wide-brimmed hat, stood before a detached villa in Kensington with two gramophones in his arms.
The house, with its sharp-angled roof, elaborately decorated ivory-white triangular walls, five-step marble staircase leading to the front door, and a spacious porch with spindle-shaped columns, was further adorned with a double redwood door bearing intricate carvings. This luxurious residence would undoubtedly stand out in any other part of London, but in Kensington, home to Kensington Palace, Knightsbridge, and High Street, bustling with political and business elites, it was just an ordinary dwelling.
The mistress of this mansion was the very person Arthur had come to visit: Lady Emily Cowper, the fifth Countess Cowper.
Based on information gleaned from Eld and his observations during the previous soirée, this leader of London’s upper-class social circle was almost the complete opposite of her husband, the taciturn and reserved fifth Earl Cowper.
As a woman with significant influence in the Whig party, her warm and gregarious personality naturally attracted a considerable following.
In fact, due to her British origin, she was arguably the most popular member of the Almack Club.
Her prominence overshadowed even the seasoned Lady Castle-Reagh and Lady Sefton, eclipsing the charming but Russian-born Lady Lieven.
In comparison to her peers, Lady Jersey and Lady Drummond-Burrell, Lady Cowper was virtually unbeatable.
According to Eld’s intel, Lady Jersey’s vivacity often bordered on rudeness and lack of refinement, while Lady Drummond-Burrell was overly preoccupied with etiquette and formalities.
Only Lady Cowper skillfully navigated this middle ground, fostering connections while avoiding offense.
In short, Shakespeare’s famous quote did not apply to Lady Cowper: “Woman, thy name is weakness.”
Evidently, in Lady Cowper’s presence, Arthur was the one who appeared more vulnerable.
Carrying the two gramophones, Arthur had no free hands to knock on the door. He could only tilt his head and use his hat brim to clang the bell hanging by the door.
A chime echoed, and the redwood door creaked open, revealing an elderly butler clad in a black tailcoat, white shirt, and white gloves.
The butler scrutinized the dripping young man from head to toe: “May I inquire who you are?”
Before Arthur could respond, a gentle female voice drifted from behind the butler: “Cox, that’s Mr. Hastings of Scotland Yard. Bring him in. It’s pouring outside. If he catches a chill, Scotland Yard might grind to a halt. Londoners wouldn’t tolerate such a loss.”
Arthur’s gaze swept over the butler, landing on the lady standing at the top of the stairs, her hands clasped on her abdomen.
Perhaps due to the heavy downpour, Lady Cowper, who wasn’t planning to go out, had opted for a simple look today. Her dress wasn’t as voluminous as the one she wore at the soirée, but even so, this pale blue gown, primarily crafted from silk satin and velvet, reminiscent of the Lolita style, couldn’t have been cheap.
To put it bluntly, it would easily cover Arthur’s weekly salary.
Thinking about this, Arthur started pondering the idea of asking Mr. Moschelles to organize a concert.
Although he was now a Scotland Yard inspector, with a corresponding salary increase, his income, despite exceeding 150 pounds annually, was still insufficient to cover his expenses as a gentleman residing in Hyde Park.
However, while his official income was only 150 pounds, anyone who believed a Scotland Yard inspector was worth only that much was underestimating the power of government departments.
Apart from his regular income, he enjoyed various miscellaneous allowances and hidden benefits.
For instance: free postal services courtesy of the General Post Office,
Gifts and bonuses distributed by the Home Office during significant holidays,
Free subscriptions to major newspapers like the “London Gazette,” “The Times,” and “Manchester Guardian,” worth approximately 25 pounds,
Regular gifts from commercial associations and companies within his jurisdiction. While Arthur hadn’t received any of these yet, according to veteran inspectors, the total value of these gifts would fluctuate between 10 and 50 pounds, depending on the type, number, and size of businesses in the area.
Of course, as a rule, Scotland Yard, a subordinate department of the Home Office, should have enjoyed priority access to official apartment buildings planned by the Home Office’s subordinate Urban Development Committee, just like Home Office clerks.
However, perhaps due to its nature of work and the overall lower income levels of the department, Scotland Yard had always been looked down upon by its Home Office counterparts.
For most Scotland Yard officers, they could only be called government employees, not government officials.
To explain with an Eastern concept, senior Scotland Yard officers were at best on a career track, while the frontline constables couldn’t even be considered career track employees. They were just a group of temporary workers who could be dismissed at any time.
Home Office clerks, on the other hand, were genuine civil servants. Compared to them, Arthur was not even from the same class.
Could a second-rate department like Scotland Yard, filled with blue-collar workers, even dream of receiving Home Office official apartments?
Not a chance!
As for Arthur, whose income level was even higher than that of an ordinary Home Office clerk, he was an even more envious target.
After all, as an inspector earning 150 pounds per year, his income already exceeded the minimum salary of a Home Office clerk. How could he not be grateful?
While contemplating his income woes, Arthur followed the butler to a fireplace sofa, warming himself by the fire.
He sat down, gazing at the Persian-style maroon rug beneath his feet, merely raising a cup of coffee to his lips.
Lady Cowper, with a twinkle in her eye, sat opposite him. She surveyed the two gramophones on the coffee table, then spoke: “Mr. Hastings, you’ve gone above and beyond. When I rashly sent someone to order gramophones from you, I didn’t dare have high hopes. After all, there are so many people wanting to order gramophones these days. You managed to get two so quickly; you must have put in a lot of effort, right?”
Arthur waved his hand dismissively: “Madam, that’s not my doing. It was purely coincidental. Mr. Wheatstone happened to have two gramophones freshly made. He was initially reluctant to hand them over directly to me, as others were offering higher prices. But when I informed him that the order was yours, Mr. Wheatstone immediately decided to prioritize your order. In the end, it’s all because Mr. Wheatstone admires your reputation. I was merely a messenger.”
Lady Cowper’s eyes crinkled with laughter: “Is that so? I didn’t know my reputation was so highly regarded by young and promising scholars like you and Mr. Wheatstone.”
Arthur simply smiled: “Madam, you underestimate the influence of the name Emily Cowper in London. Everyone knows you’re not only a graceful dancer and charming conversationalist, but also a passionate advocate for new innovations. We natural philosophers have all heard stories of your sponsorship of scientific research, so we all hold you in high esteem. To be honest, Mr. Faraday mentioned you to me.”
“Mr. Faraday mentioned me?” Lady Cowper exclaimed, her hands pressed to her chest. “Oh, heavens! I’ve never heard such a thing.”
The Red Devil, upon hearing this, mimicked Lady Cowper’s tone, chirping: “Oh, Arthur! I’ve never heard such a thing either! And I’m willing to bet that Faraday hasn’t heard of it either!”
While taking a sip of coffee, Arthur glanced at the Red Devil, warning him with his eyes not to be reckless. He then lowered his coffee cup, a sunny smile on his face: “You don’t know, Madam, Mr. Faraday is a shy man. If you were to ask him directly, he’d be too embarrassed to say anything. Mr. Wheatstone is also very shy. Most of us philosophers have this personality, and I’m no exception.”
Lady Cowper blinked her dark eyes, her lashes fluttering as she teased, “Come now, Mr. Hastings, you’re definitely pulling my leg. Everyone knows Mr. Faraday wouldn’t willingly compliment other women. He saves all his sweet nothings for his wife.
As for you being shy? I don’t believe it. How could a Scotland Yard inspector be shy? If you were shy, how would you face criminals, how would you solve so many big cases? I heard from Colonel Fitzroy that you single-handedly took down seventeen pirates on the high seas.”
Arthur responded with a serious expression: “Madam, you don’t know, the reason I was able to take down those seventeen pirates is because I’m shy.”
Lady Cowper covered her mouth with one hand, questioning, “How so?”
Arthur sat up straight, his face serious: “Because if I let them return alive, they’d surely spread tales of my shyness.”
Lady Cowper, upon hearing this, slightly raised her hand to cover her mouth, but through her fingers, one could still faintly see the upturned corners of her lips.
“Thank God, Mr. Hastings, that God guided you to Scotland Yard. Otherwise, with your perplexing shyness, if you had become a criminal, you would have surely wreaked havoc on the entire British Isles.”
Arthur, upon hearing this, simply removed his hat and said, “No problem, Madam, I’m just as disruptive in Scotland Yard.”
As soon as these words left his lips, Lady Cowper finally couldn’t hold back. She burst into laughter, tears welling up in her eyes.
She wiped her laughing tears with a handkerchief, saying, “Mr. Hastings, I apologize, I’m being rude. But speaking of which, Lady Lieven’s assessment of you was spot-on. You’re a truly unique young man. A man like you, whether in Scotland Yard, on the battlefield of Waterloo, or even in the field of love, is destined for success. If my obtuse brother had half your eloquence, he wouldn’t have allowed Lord Byron to intervene in his marriage. My late sister-in-law adored men of your type.”
“Lord Byron?” Arthur, who was well-versed in the story of Lord Byron and Lady Ponsonby, feigned ignorance. He humbly replied, “Madam, you flatter me. How could I compare myself to Britain’s brightest literary star of the 19th century? But what’s the story between your sister-in-law and Lord Byron?”
Lady Cowper, upon hearing this, opened her mouth slightly, about to say something, but she retracted her words: “Never mind, it’s all in the past. It’s understandable that you wouldn’t know. You were still a child back then. If I recall correctly, you’re only 20 this year, right?”
Arthur nodded: “I’ll turn 21 on January 15th next year.”
Lady Cowper, upon hearing this, couldn’t help but chuckle again: “You young people are always eager to grow older. While us older ladies often wish we were younger.
But you’re about the right age to consider marriage. You have a stable job with a decent income, you’re eloquent, you’re physically fit. Finding a suitable lady should be easy.
Have you thought about this? Perhaps I’m being presumptuous, but don’t mind me. My eldest son is also approaching marriageable age, so I inevitably think about these things.”
Arthur, upon hearing this, suddenly detected a whiff of a possible ticket to the Almack Club.
After organizing some of his own needs and considering the possibility of the Whigs taking power, he seized the opportunity to complain: “Madam, you should know, I’m a Scotland Yard inspector. Scotland Yard is incredibly busy, and we rarely get a chance to take a break. So, I don’t have much opportunity to socialize.”
Lady Cowper blinked in surprise: “Oh… is that so? I know the Scotland Yard constables work very hard. But aren’t you a Scotland Yard inspector now? Why would you still be so busy? I thought senior officers like you would have a lot of free time.”
Upon hearing this, Arthur somehow recalled the upper-class individuals at the Home Office, and the malice within him began to churn: “Madam, you’re not entirely wrong. Some departments within government are indeed very leisurely, but not all.
For instance, departments like the Treasury Audit Office or the Home Office Police Oversight Committee, they can certainly work late and leave early, lazing around for five to six hours a day, with weekends off and various holidays. But some departments, like Scotland Yard, for example, work more than ten hours a day. Everyone is running around like crazy, constantly working overtime.
But Scotland Yard’s high-intensity work is still good, because we’re actually doing something. But some departments work themselves to the bone, just filling out forms, making empty gestures, appeasing superiors, and causing trouble for subordinates. But in reality, whether they exist or not, it makes no difference to the functioning of the British government.”
The next chapter will likely be delayed.
(End of Chapter)