The halls of Whitehall were thick with quiet tension, the murmur of voices echoing through the richly paneled corridors as the Prime Minister met with his closest advisors. The news that David Howlett who recently crowned as a rising figure in the Northwestern Territories had been seen mingling with members of the infamous 'Hellfire Club' and several influential aristocrats in London had sparked an immediate crisis within the British government.
Prime Minister Gladstone studied the dossier on Howlett with intense scrutiny, the silence in the room broken only by the steady ticking of the clock. "This young man is hardly content to stay in his own territory, it seems," he murmured, a frown creasing his brow as he considered the potential implications of Howlett's arrival in London. "If his ambitions are half as grand as they seem, we may have more than a rogue lord on our hands!"
One of his senior advisors, Lord Levington, cleared his throat. "Your Grace, his alliances are troublesome enough, but if he truly means to turn the Hellfire Club's influence and Essex's resources toward his estate's independence, he may be angling to form his own empire. That cannot be permitted. The empire must remain unified, our rule unquestioned."
Gladstone nodded, weighing the options before him. "Indeed, Lord Levington. But we must tread carefully. If we move too forcefully, we risk stirring further resentment among the territories. They may begin to view Howlett more as a symbol of freedom rather than insubordination, especially if his success continues unchallenged."
An aide stepped forward, addressing the room with a note of urgency in his voice. "Prime Minister, if I may, there are rumors circulating that Howlett's allies within the Hellfire Club have already begun discussing a formal allegiance. We should anticipate their support for him going forward."
The Prime Minister's expression turned dark. "The Hellfire Club, each with their own private armies and vast resources. If Howlett gains their loyalty—" he cut himself off, troubled by the thought. "No, we cannot risk that. We will proceed with caution, but with force."
He turned to his Minister of Foreign Affairs, Pemberton. "I'll personally send a word of recommendation to the Queen. We will send word to the young Howlett, extending him a formal invitation to the Buckingham Palace under the guise of a courtesy visit. We shall make her Majesty remind him, subtly but unmistakably, of where his loyalties ought to lie."
The minister nodded. "And should he refuse?"
Gladstone's voice was hard as steel. "Then we move to restrict him. A tax on goods leaving his territories, increased oversight on his trade, perhaps even restricting access to rail networks. We have the means to contain him without drawing blood... for now."
Just then, a young aide stepped forward with a fresh dispatch, bowing as he addressed the room. "Prime Minister, new reports from the northwest suggest that Governor Fitzwilliam has quietly implemented Howlett's policies across British Columbia, despite maintaining a facade of loyalty to the Crown."
Gladstone's jaw tightened. Fitzwilliam, whom the Crown had appointed and funded, had been subverted right under their noses. "Then we have our answer. It seems even the governor has turned into Howlett's instrument, and British Columbia is no longer a safe base of support for us."
Lord Levington, visibly tense, leaned forward. "Your Grace, we should consider positioning military forces closer to the western territories. If Howlett continues to consolidate power, we may need to demonstrate the empire's might to bring him back in line."
Gladstone's gaze grew steely. "Prepare our forces in the western territories as a show of strength but keep them discreet. I don't want to ignite a powder keg prematurely. For now, our approach is diplomacy backed by visible authority. If Howlett is as clever as he claims, he'll understand what's at stake."
The assembled men thought 'what forces?' but then nodded, each understanding the gravity of the situation. The room emptied slowly as each advisor filed out with his assignments, leaving Gladstone alone to ponder the future.
As he studied the map before him, his gaze fell upon the Northwestern Territories and British Columbia, marked as part of the British Empire. The military power of the Empire has been on the continuous decline over the years but it is not to the point that it would be powerless to resist this budding power. But if the Howlett continued its march toward independence, these regions could soon be lost, unless Gladstone acted swiftly to stem the tide. 'Our forces are once again the main problem. May God help us. Long live the Queen.'
***
David studied the carefully worded invitation from the Crown, his expression unreadable. He was seated in a private parlor at his London residence, a stately townhouse on the edge of Mayfair. Around him, trusted advisors from the Howlett branch stationed in London. It was evident that David's activities in London had not gone unnoticed. Prime Minister Gladstone's invitation was polite, but its underlying message was unmistakable. It seems the Crown was growing wary of his growing influence.
"An invitation to Buckingham Palace," he murmured, turning the letter over thoughtfully. He met the eyes of Morrison, who stood nearby, an unreadable smile on his face. "This, Charles, could be quite the opportunity."
Morrison nodded, his expression calculating. "They mean to remind you of their power, young Howlett. But this is an opening, one we should exploit. You'll have the Prime Minister and, perhaps, even members of the aristocracy there, and perhaps the people who are watching you closely. With the right words and the right display of respect, you can temper their suspicions."
David's gaze sharpened. "Soften their approach, gain their trust, at least for now. Their time is nigh... I see your point. And yet, the more they view me as an asset, the less they'll see the shift happening around them. They have lost their only chance at reversal. What comes next is a world of progress."
"These men cling to an ancient order, one they believe immutable. But you, David, represent something new. Something untethered by tradition or antiquated codes. We can play their game for now, but we must remember, our goal is not merely survival." George Peabody tapped the table as he thought of what the letter's purpose.
"Without our technical support, the Thames would still be swimming in human sewage. The streets would be buried in a foot-thick layer of mud. Honestly, the books, medicines and products that they enjoy at a discount are also supplied by us. They are probably the one's who will suffer first if they insisted on their plans to thwart our advance." Brunel leaned in his chair relaxed. In his view, the British Empire is on its dying throes. 'It can hardly keep up with the French, I assume even the German's would soon overtake this rotten Empire.' He thought while looking at the others who sat in the round table.
David inclined his head, acknowledging the counsel. The Crown's interest was predictable, given the swift advancements he'd achieved in the Northwest Territories. The new transport systems, fortified borders, and alliances had established a level of autonomy the British had never expected. However, openly defying the Crown now would be premature.
"Very well," David said, slipping the invitation into his coat pocket. "We'll attend, with all appropriate respect." He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each of his allies. "Our strength has always come from what they do not see. This invitation could be the perfect cloak."
As the day of the audience approached, David made preparations. He instructed his aides to research every minister and member of Parliament who might be present, gathering intelligence on their ambitions, grievances, and loyalties. In the meantime, he continued his meetings with the Hellfire Club, deepening his alliances within the shadowy network of London's elite, which Essex and Nur were only too pleased to arrange.
***
The evening of the royal audience arrived, and David entered Buckingham Palace with a small entourage. Dressed in a tailored, black suit with a Howlett family insignia subtly embroidered on his lapel, he projected an image of elegant confidence. As he walked through the grand corridors toward the receiving room, the eyes of other guests followed him with a mix of shock and thinly veiled curiosity.
Inside, Prime Minister Gladstone and several high-ranking members of the British aristocracy waited, speaking quietly among themselves. "David Howlett of the Northwestern Territory's Howlett has arrived" The room stilled as David's arrival was announced at the door. A tall young man entered with two of his attendants, all attention shifting to him and he returned their gazes with a sweep on the crowd of his own. He gave a respectful bow to Gladstone and the assembled dignitaries, his face composed and polite.
"Mr. Howlett," Gladstone began, gesturing for him to take a seat. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. The Crown has been most impressed with the strides your family has made in the western territories. It's…unusual to see such advancements so rapidly achieved."
David inclined his head, a courteous smile on his lips. "I'm honored by the Crown's acknowledgment, Prime Minister. We merely sought to bring progress and order to the people of our estate, as any loyal British subjects would. I assume those in here are quite familiar with our products. It is my vision to bring prosperity to my estate as any head would."
A murmur ran through the gathered nobles. One of them, Lord Chesterfield, leaned forward, skepticism in his eyes. "But prosperity, Mr. Howlett, can lead to ambition. And ambition, unchecked, can become… problematic. Some would say that your actions have shown a degree of independence that, while impressive, borders on insubordination."
David kept his composure, nodding with feigned humility. "I understand the concern, Lord Chesterfield. But can I assume you have evidence to back up your claim? I can assure you that the Howlett estate remains, and will remain loyal to the Crown. My goal has been to enhance the strength of the empire from within, by creating a stronghold of innovation, progress and discipline in the western territories. A source of pride, I would hope, rather than suspicion."
Prime Minister Gladstone studied him closely, his expression unreadable. "It is clear that you are a man of considerable talent, Mr. Howlett. But the Crown must remain vigilant over its territories. We must have assurances that your ambition does not threaten the unity of the empire. Especially in these troubled times." 'It hasn't been long since Crimea, then there was the Sepoy... the Empire can not handle another rebellion.'
David almost smiled but he nodded seriously, sensing the underlying warning and apprehensions in the other. "Of course, Prime Minister. The Howlett estate's growth was achieved with the empire's best interests in mind. I am at your disposal to ensure that our activities align with the Crown's vision. We of the Howlett supported the Crown in Crimea and in India, we will support the Crown in the future."
Gladstone's gaze softened as he nodded, and he exchanged a glance with several of the other ministers. They seemed satisfied, if only tentatively. But David could tell he had succeeded in tempering their suspicions, if only for the moment.
With the formalities complete, David joined the others in a more informal setting. As glasses of port were distributed, he mingled with the aristocrats and government officials, each conversation an opportunity to subtly advance his goals. He spoke earnestly of the economic opportunities in the western territories, carefully gauging who among them might be open to private investment or partnership.
When he finally took his leave, David felt confident that he had achieved what he set out to do. The Crown would keep a close watch on him, but for now, they had accepted his assurances, they don't have a choice.
"That was an impressive performance sir," Peabody said, leaning back with a smirk. "With this, they'll give us the time we need. And when the moment is right, we'll strike."
Brunel nodded, his eyes gleaming with approval. "The empire will weaken itself, divided by its own complacency. And the Howlett, will have a foundation built on strength and loyalty, far more powerful than any title they could offer."
David raised a glass, his smile cool. "To new beginnings, and to an empire that will soon know its true heirs."