“Is there more?” Cornelius asked.
“Yes. We went through them together, you understand, and I discovered that she has the most amazing mind for this work.”
“For this work?”
“Analytical detection, yes.” Kenneth moved to sit across from his uncle.
“Analytical detection.” Cornelius repeated, drawing out the syllabus.
“You mock me.” Kenneth pouted, sitting back and crossing his arms.
“Come now.” Cornelius held his hands up again. “So, what is it that you want?”
“I wish to hire her as a consultant, to go over testimony whenever needed.”
“So, you may speak with her about any case which you desire?”
“Well, yes.” Kenneth admitted, puzzling over how small a thing it really boiled down to. I want to see her again and again. “But truly, she has a good mind for it.”
“I have no doubt.” Cornelius said.
“So, you will allow it?”
“Kenneth, you own the company. I manage it. You can do whatever you bloody well please, can't you?”
“I suppose I can.” Kenneth said, puffing out his chest a bit and feeling inflated. Often, he forgot just how rich and influential he truly was.
“And you very well must hire her on as something or other, for now she is privy to company secrets.”
“Yes, I suppose you are right there.” Kenneth blushed a bit. “For that breach I am at fault, and I apologize.”
“You are a good man to do so, but it is unnecessary. No harm will come of it, eh? Thompson will deliver the East India men our decision this afternoon, no doubt they won't feel the need to question us about it.”
“So, then what shall we do in the meantime? Is there more work to be done?”
“Oh, there is always more work to be done, dear boy.” Cornelius slowly stood from his creaking chair. “No matter where you are in the world.”
“What's to be done then?”
“Tell me Kenneth, when did you come to your decision regarding the claim?”
“Why, the first night I returned home.”
“And yet you waited near to a week to bring me the decision.”
“I had cause to delay, and you know how the days slip by. To my own fault, I will miss Dr. Fowler's visit to the home today.”
“So, had you better spent your time, we may have had this business settled, and you would have been home for the good doctor. What does that tell me?”
“I'm sure I haven't a clue, Uncle.”
“It tells me that you do not like to work.” Cornelius laughed. “To your own detriment.”
“That is not all fair.” Kenneth laughed back.
“I must confess it may be a bit of a family trait.” Cornelius rolled his eyes. “Shall we go for a meal?”
“I should find it very difficult to disagree.” Kenneth grinned wide.
“Right then, on our way.” Cornelius snapped up, and the pair of them strolled joyfully off into the beautiful day in accordance to the brilliant clanging of eleven o'clock bells.
Down around the corner they went, strutting happily the way they tended to. All around they gave and returned friendly nods to the other people playing make believe in the sun.
Cornelius led them to the Ten Drums, which he noted had since become one of his favorite places to steal a few moments of respite.
The windows all stood open to let in the cool air, and the door was propped up on its hinges. They took up a table in the corner, near to a set of windows from which they could see the street and the passersby.
They ordered food over bantering small talk, gave nods to others that trickled in and out, but maintained their stalwart faces that requested privacy. Acquaintances paid their respects from afar, and that was the way Kenneth liked it. Cornelius, on the other hand, was a bit of a socialite, and seemed to know everyone. Kenneth was a bit surprised by how many people respectfully acknowledged his uncle's presence before his, despite his peerage.
Once they were settled with their piping plates of Shepherd's pie and a tall mug of cool ale, Cornelius spoke up.
“You know, I do not mean to ever chastise you, Kenneth. When it comes to the business, well, you know I only want to look out for you.”
“I know it, Uncle.” Kenneth sighed. “It is just that sometimes I cannot help but feel useless. There is nothing I can do within the business. Even with this last task, I could not accomplish it without the help of another.”
“It is no shame to accept that one needs guidance.” Cornelius offered. “And I have no trouble running things for now. But the day will come when I must retire, you understand that.”
“I do.” Kenneth said, somberly.
“Then you know that you must begin to understand. You began some time ago already.”
“That is largely the problem, I fear.” Kenneth muttered. “Often, when I turn my mind to the business, I think of my father, and it brings me discouragement.”
“Your father loved the business. He wanted you to run it one day, not me.” Cornelius said softly.
“It's true, it's true.” Kenneth drank again and poked at his plate idly. “Yet look at the state it left him in. Dead from a failed heart before his time.”
“He was not the healthiest man.” Cornelius cautioned.
“No, but that office made him worse. I look at you, who worked there not a day before five years ago, next to how he was, and I am afraid.”
“I do not think you must fear growing fat, Kenneth.” Cornelius offered gently, taking a drink.
“It's more than that.” Kenneth sighed again. “I don't want it to swallow me whole. I don't want to be found dead at my desk one day down the road because I never made it home.”
“That shall not be your fate, Nephew. Not unless you make it so. But it seems will you have someone to help you along the way.”
“Come again?”
“A poor jest.” Cornelius confessed. “This Miss Benson, tell me more of her.”
“What of her?”
“I know only what you have told me thus far, which we may together admit is a slight collection. What is she like? Where is she from? Give me anything, man.” Cornelius ended with a chuckle, clearing trying to uplift Kenneth's mood.
Kenneth was upset to concede that thinking of Leah and changing the conversation did, in fact, make him more at ease.
“What is there to say?” Kenneth began, sitting back and letting his shoulders relax as he spoke. “She is recovering well from the attack.”
“Which you so gallantly saved her from.” Cornelius raised his eyebrows.
“In so many words.” Kenneth rolled his eyes. “Leah, is her name.”
“Leah Benson?” Cornelius seemed to catch on the name.
“Quite. She's from London proper originally, White Chapel.”
“White Chapel?” Cornelius scoffed, but ceased after a look from Kenneth.
“An orphan, you see. She is a survivor, and with a quick mind for it too. She had the most remarkable gift of knowing whether someone is telling the truth or not.”
“You refer to her analytical deduction.” Cornelius slyly commented.
“I do, indeed.” Kenneth laughed out over a sip of ale.
“So, she is of the world, much like yourself?”
“In different ways,” Kenneth shrugged. “In some regards we share some values and perspective I suppose. Although largely I feel completely distant to her history. There is little she ever says that I find relatable. And yet I enjoy conversing with her more than I have ever known to be the case.”
“You find her pleasing?” Cornelius asked in his old-world way.
“Well, of course, but that is not what I mean to say,” Kenneth protested.
“Go on then.” Cornelius smiled.
“I suppose I find such value in her because I find so much value in the broadening of one's world view. I feel she could prove an immense assistance to the passing of my bill in parliament.”
/> “So, she will help you with both the business and politics?” Cornelius affirmed. “I must meet this industrious woman.”
“I'm sure she would be pleased.” Kenneth grew excited.
“Speaking of your bill, what has become of it? I hear that it will still fall far short on the floor.”
“They will come around to my side. Leah will bring to their ears a perspective of poverty that they had never before known or sought to learn of. When so clearly confronted by the brutalities of our world, surely they will be forced to reconsider my proposal.”
“Leah? Not Miss Benson?”
“What of it?”
“You cannot be so confident.” Cornelius cautioned, shrugging aside his last comment. “The House of Lords may not be so fast to see your point of view. Many of them are more familiar with brutality than you know, and many more of them simply won't put any stock in it.”
“How can they be so close minded?”
“Because they are older than you, and that is the way it will always be,” Cornelius raised his mug. “to the old and the young.”
“The old and the young.” Kenneth echoed, toasting his uncle. “I only hope that Leah can make them see reason.”
“If you want to accomplish that, you should refer to her as Miss Benson.” Cornelius suggested.
“Fair enough.” Kenneth smiled. “You mentioned that you ought to meet her, since she will be working for me.”
“I did.” Cornelius cocked his head. “And it seems since you can't cease thinking of her.”
“How is that?”
“Come now Kenneth, I am not your mother. I won't take offenses to you taking sweet on someone below your stature. Do you think I ever stayed within the lines?”
“Uncle, honestly I have no idea what you have done most of your life, save the past five years,” Kenneth admitted, much to his own surprise. He had never truly thought it through or considered the strangeness of his uncle’s anonymity. The sudden bluntness also shocked him a bit; it was most out of Cornelius's character.
Cornelius would appear for family gatherings, he was always a joy, but beyond that, Kenneth had no clue of his uncle's life while he was growing up. Only since his father's death had his uncle taken such a role in his life.
“What is it you think I do?” Cornelius asked, setting down his fork for a spell.
“I don't know,” Kenneth pondered. Before he could say anything else, Cornelius abruptly cut in.
“You were saying, about me meeting her.”
“Yes, yes I was.,” Kenneth was a bit rattled. His uncle's mysterious boast had taken him by surprise. “I think you should come back to the manor with me, for a proper meal with mother, and you can meet Leah, Miss Benson.” Kenneth corrected himself at the end. “So, I might prove her a valuable employee.” he added as an afterthought.
“Very well, I shall accept your invitation.” Cornelius said.
“Splendid.” Kenneth was overjoyed. “We will have a feast.”
“Tell me,” Cornelius said as they again toasted their drinks and returned to their food. “did you ever learn the nature of her attack? This Miss Benson?”
“What relevance is that?”
“Was the crime targeted, or was it a random act?”
“What are you saying, Uncle?”
“I mean only to say that if someone is after her, then they may still be after her, no?”
“Is she not safe on my estate? I am a Duke.”
“That you are.” Cornelius admitted. “But keep your eyes and ears alert. Something tells me that this business is not yet finished, not by some many miles.
Chapter 15
Francis was living between a cold sweat and a strange stone calmness as he rolled up the way to the Worthington manor. The house atop the hill stared down on him like an imposing nun, scolding down at him for the thoughts and plans he carried with him.
He felt as if his entire life had led to this fateful moment. As the coach came into the drive, he could see yard workers moving to bring in the horses. They were waving them in, and no matter how much Francis wished to pound on the roof and tell the driver that he had made a mistake, that in fact he should be returning to London, he could not.
He had set his course against the storm, and now the winds had come overtop him, and there was nowhere to go but forward lest he risk capsizing completely.
He felt the coach make its complete stop, and he watched the door intently until it swung wide open. He was greeted by the jovial faces of those enjoying the late summer weather.
“Good morning, Doctor.” Daniel said, walking to the top of the stairs overlooking the drive.
“And to you.” Francis climbed warily down from his perch. I must not let my emotions betray me. I must remain calm.
“Was the drive pleasant enough?” Daniel inquired as he met Dr. Fowler on the steps.
“It was the haul from London, at the very least.” Francis remarked, crossing into the entryway.
“It can be such a tedious ride.” Daniel added, shutting the front doors behind them. They waited there in the tiled room for a pause and then Daniel said, “May I take your hat and coat, Doctor?”
“Yes of course.” Francis slid his jacket off and handed Daniel his hat. How could I be so foolish? Such an action should have been routine and unacknowledged. Francis felt as if he were not off to a particularly good start.
“This way, Doctor. The Duchess is expecting you.” Daniel began to lead him into the house.
“And the Duke?”
“Away on business, I am afraid.”
“Away?” Francis felt his heart jump with hope. If Worthington is not here, it will be far easier to accomplish my goal. “Any word on when he will return?”
“None, I'm afraid. His Grace certainly has his own mind for his schedule.” Daniel remarked.
“Indeed.” Francis replied, glancing nervously between the expensive paintings that adorned the walls all around him. The angels and Christian martyrs of the Renaissance-style art stared down at him, ever judging his actions and thoughts. He could feel St. Sebastian's penetrating gaze cutting deep into him, like the arrows that protruded from his own, holy body.
“Here we are, Doctor.” Daniel pushed open a set of double doors, leading them into the east sitting room.
Francis saw the table made up and the Duchess standing by, ready as ever to receive some company from the city. On any other day, this would have been a most welcome sight that Francis rejoiced in. However, that day, it only brought him a taller tidal wave of anxiety.
“Doctor Fowler!” the Duchess exclaimed, gleefully. “Come in, come in, please make yourself comfortable.
“Your Grace, so good to see you.” Francis offered, walking towards the tea setting like a man walking to the gallows.
“I am so sorry that my spirited son is not here to see you in as well.” she remarked, gesturing to Daniel to pull a chair out for Francis.
“He is a busy man, Your Grace, I can take no offense.” Francis sunk heavily into the delicate chair.
“So, tell me of the city.” the Duchess went on. “How is your wife, well, I hope? It has been far too long since I have paid London a visit.”
“My wife is as well as she ever was.” Francis said, sucking in his breath. The thought of her untarnished grace, filling his house with her unique radiance, nearly brought him to tears.
“Are you quite alright, Doctor?” the Duchess cocked her head to the side. “You seem a bit pale, you haven't touched your crumpets.”
“Oh, I am well.” Francis shook himself. You will give yourself away! Get a hold of yourself, man! “I am only plagued by a lack of proper sleep, Your Grace. You see the previous evening I had cause to take out on a house call in the city, and as such, I was not afforded the hours of sleep the body requires, nor my fine wife's supper.”
“Poor thing.” the Duchess gawked. As Francis had suspected, that sort of lie went a long way with her sort of folk. There you are, you old rasca
l, the devil on his shoulder sneered. “Well come, eat, drink. You must regain your strength, much like our patient.” she rolled her eyes upwards as she spoke.
“And how is our patient, speaking of such?” Francis inquired, raising the tea cup to his lips and sipping down some of the hot brew. “Has she shown signs of improvement?”
“I cannot say that I have paid her any of my attention.” the Duchess confessed. “But between Mrs. Redford and my son, I have been assured that she is recovering steadily.”
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