“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?”

“I’m a Member of Parliament. And you?”

“I’m a state representative from Baton Rouge.”

“And as you can’t be a day over forty, I presume you have your sights on Washington.”