by Georgie Lee
‘You can’t leave yet, Silas.’ His mother’s voice carried beneath the distant howl of a train whistle.
Silas stood, amazed to see her here, too. She wore the thick burgundy pelisse he’d sent her for Christmas a few years ago. She slowly approached him and the memory of that early morning ten years ago outside his father’s room echoed between them. Then Mary’s hand on his arm dispelled the pain and uncertainty of that awful day and the hesitation marking this one.
‘Ever since you were a little boy I knew you weren’t like Millie or Lottie or even your father,’ his mother said, coming to stand in front of him. ‘You care a great deal about those you love and the women that we’ve helped through the years, but it was obvious that this wasn’t the life for you.’
‘Then why did you and Father try to foist it on me?’
‘Because like you, your father loved what he did and he knew it would be far more difficult for his daughters to inherit the Foundation and keep it running than it would be for a son. With a man at the helm after his passing he felt certain that everything we’d accomplished would continue. He didn’t mean to dismiss your dreams, but he was perhaps too focused on his own to realise the pressure he’d placed on you, the way I did after he passed, but know this, Silas—he loved you and wanted you to grow up to be a forthright man and you have. He would be very proud to see you now.’
Silas drank in the words he’d longed to hear ever since the night his father had passed, but another care still weighted on him. ‘And you?’
‘I wanted you here because I love you and I wrongly believed that through you a part of your father could still be involved in his dream, but you aren’t your father and his dreams aren’t yours, and there is nothing wrong with that, nothing at fault and no one to blame. You are your own man, exactly how it should be, and I’m proud of you and everything you’ve done.’ She hugged him close and he held her, the noise of the train and London fading away until his mother stepped back, a wry smile decorating her lips. ‘Even when you sneak around the Foundation in the middle of the night to look through the ledgers.’
‘You knew about that?’
‘There isn’t much that happens at the Foundation that I don’t know about. I only wish I’d allowed you to look at the ledgers instead of stopping you from doing all you could to make sure we were taken care of, the way you always have. Starting today, the books are yours to examine. I want to put the issue of the bank drafts and everything else behind us for good.’
‘So do I.’
‘Then let’s go home. We still have a great deal of work to do.’ She linked her arm in Silas’s and the three of them made their way out of the train station towards home.
* * *
‘Mr Fairclough,’ Tibbs greeted when they arrived at the Fairclough house. ‘There’s a Mr Perkins and his clerk to see you in the sitting room.’
‘Who are they?’ Mary asked as she and Lilian removed their coats and handed them to the valet.
‘The bank manager and the one man who can give us some clue to the identity of the person who stole my money.’ Silas handed his coat to Tibbs, then whispered to him, ‘Send for the constable, I want him to take a full report of the clerk’s description of the thief.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Silas entered the sitting room where the bank manager and his reedy clerk waited.
‘Mr Fairclough, this is Mr Jones. He was the man who regularly cashed the bank drafts for Mr Smith. Mr Jones, tell Mr Fairclough what the gentleman who made the transactions looks like.’
‘Yes, sir, he came in once a month, he was of a medium build with a dapper way about him, dressing fine, but not too fine.’
‘Why did you allow him to cash the bank drafts?’
‘His papers were in order and I wasn’t from Mr Perkins’s bank, but the one they acquired. I wasn’t aware of the standing order of the double letters. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have allowed him to cash the drafts.’
‘Was there anything physically remarkable about him?’ Silas asked as the manager squirmed at realising how much he and his institution were responsible for the mishap. Let the man worry, it would encourage him to help more than he already was. ‘Were there any other distinguishing traits that can help us identify him?’
The clerk scratched his smooth chin, looking up at the ceiling a moment before he answered, ‘He had strange eyes, not quite the same colour.’
Silas and his mother exchanged stunned looks. There was one man they knew who matched that description and, as if hearing himself spoken of, he appeared at that moment, ledger in hand.
‘Mrs Fairclough, I wish to speak to you about settling the butcher’s account.’ Mr Edwards looked up from his ledger, dropping it on the floor in surprise at seeing Mr Jones in the sitting room.
‘That’s him.’ Mr Jones levelled a finger at Mr Edwards. ‘That’s Mr Smith, the man who signed for the bank drafts.’
Mr Edwards glanced about at the assembled people. Silas waited for him to defend himself or dispute the charge, to sputter out a string of excuse for what had happened. He did neither, but sprinted for the door. Silas was on him in a flash, tripping him in the entryway and pinning his arm behind his back so he couldn’t move.
The front door swung open and Tibbs entered with the constable.
‘What’s all this, then?’ the officer demanded, seeing Silas holding a fighting Mr Edwards against the floorboards.
‘I wish to press charges against this man for theft,’ Silas demanded, hauling Mr Edwards to his feet. In quick sentences he told the constable the story of the missing drafts and letters before Mr Jones and the bank manager offered their evidence.
‘After everything my mother did for you, how could you betray her like that?’ Silas demanded as the constable held a chastened Mr Edwards by the arm.
‘I wanted to get away, to get out of London. I’ve spent years in this stinking pit, scratching out a living, forced to keep books for other people like my last employer, who had no compunction about letting me sink because he frittered away his money on cards and women, leaving me with nothing, no future, no money, no reference, nothing. I wanted the country and the peace it offered.’
‘And you thought to get it by stealing my money and placing my mother and sisters and the women here at risk.’
‘They were never in real danger. I stopped your sisters’ letters from being posted while they lived here and burned yours after I took the bank drafts out. Once I was in the country, which I would have been if you hadn’t returned, your correspondence would have resumed.’
‘Not before my mother and the women here lost everything.’
‘You have enough money to save them, you always have. You don’t know what it’s like to be on the verge of failing completely, to not have enough to fill your stomach or sleep soundly at night.’
Silas stepped toe to toe with the unrepentant manager. ‘I know more about that than you will ever realise. Unlike you, I pulled myself out of that horrid situation by sheer will. I didn’t attempt to steal my way out of it. Where’s the money you took? I want it back.’
‘It’s in Tom Smith’s account,’ Mr Jones said. ‘He always deposited it there, saying it was for the Foundation.’
‘We’ll make sure it’s returned to you at once, Mr Fairclough,’ the bank manager promised.
‘Come along then,’ the constable said, dragging Mr Edwards out of the house.
The bank manager and his clerk left amid a torrent of apologies and assurance of the stability of the bank, none of which could assure Silas that his accounts and business would be safe with them.
* * *
By the time the sun began to set, Silas, Lilian and Mary were alone again in the sitting room, their tea growing cold on the table before them as they took in everything that had happened.
‘Septimus will be heartbroken when he hears of this,�
�� Lilian lamented. ‘He recommended Mr Edwards, but the man had us all fooled. Except you, Silas. You suspected him from the beginning. I should have listened to you.’
‘I had no proof, only the knowledge that he was closest to the drafts. I easily could have been mistaken. You gave him a second chance he didn’t deserve and he took advantage of your kindness to help himself. I’ll do everything I can to find a new manager before we return to Baltimore.’
Lilian rose, placed a kiss on Silas’s cheek and looked lovingly on him. ‘Thank you for all your help and everything you do for us, everything you’ve always done.’
‘You know you can always count on me.’
She patted his hand where she held it between hers. ‘I know.’
Lilian took her leave of Silas and Mary, the day as wearing on her as it was on them, but neither Mary nor Silas were ready to retire yet.
‘Thank you for bringing my mother to the station. It means the world to me to have heard what she said about her and my father.’ Silas pulled Mary close to him on the sofa, warming her against the chill of the encroaching evening. ‘Never in all my life could I have imagined coming to London and finding peace, but I have, thanks to you.’
‘And I you. I was afraid that everything here would take away what I’ve found with you, but it hasn’t.’
‘It never will. I love you, Mary, and I couldn’t imagine a life without you.’
She took his hand and led him upstairs to their room. He followed her through the dark house. When the door was closed he embraced her, savouring the sweet smell of her and the heat of her body against his. She remained close to him, the quiet between them like a comforting blanket before she spoke. ‘Watching you with your mother made me think that everything isn’t lost with my family, that there must be some way to see Jane and all I have to do is find it.’
‘Do you think it’s possible?’
She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him with a love to take his breath away. ‘With you beside me, I think anything is possible.’
Chapter Seventeen
‘Mr Fairclough, there’s a young gentleman here to see you,’ Tibbs announced as Mary and Silas sat in the dining room enjoying their breakfast.
‘Who is it?’ Silas asked. He’d been visiting a number of engineers over the last two weeks to review their work and find another engine, but he had no appointments with any of them today.
‘He said he’s an assistant of Mr Williams and would like to speak with you concerning the matter of locomotive engines.’
Silas and Mary exchanged hopeful glances.
‘Maybe Mr Williams finally grew a backbone and stood up to his investors,’ Silas mused. ‘Send the gentleman in at once.’
Tibbs left and a moment later returned with the young man who’d sat silently in Mr Williams’s office during Silas’s meetings with the engineer. He was dressed now as he had been before in a simple but well-cut suit that spoke of limited means, but a great deal of ambition, the way Silas had dressed in his early years in America. ‘Mr Cooper, sir.’
Silas rose and waved the man towards an empty seat on the far side of table. ‘Please, join us.’
Mr Cooper sat down, setting the rolled-up paper he carried under his left arm on the floor beside him. He made no move for the food.
‘Would you like some breakfast?’ Mary asked, pinning him with the same charming smile that she’d used to help win over the Baltimore investors what seemed like a lifetime ago.
‘No, ma’am, thank you.’
‘How can I help you?’ Silas tried to put the man at ease, wondering what it was he’d come all the way here to tell him.
‘As you know, Mr Fairclough, I was present during your initial conversation with Mr Williams involving the train-engine patent and again when he rejected your offer. I greatly apologise for his short-sightedness in denying you the patent. He’s a brilliant engineer, but a timid man more suited to his drafting board than the head of a corporation.’
‘Did Mr Williams send you here to apologise on his behalf?’
‘No, I’m here on similar but different business. You see, Mr Fairclough, I’m not simply Mr Williams’s clerk, but an engineer in my own right. I’ve been working with him these last few years to gain practical experience and knowledge and further develop my skills. However, due to Mr Williams and his investor’s tight control over their work, I’ve had very few opportunities to present mine.’ He lifted the roll of paper off the floor and held it up. ‘May I show you this?’
Silas and Mary moved the dishes on the table out of the way to allow Mr Cooper to unroll the paper to reveal the plans for a new steam locomotive. It was like nothing Silas had ever seen before. It was different and more advanced than even Mr Williams’s design.
‘This is my idea for a new type of engine. I’ve developed a special valve gear that can be opened and closed with a bar that requires fewer men to operate and gives the engineer greater control over the flow of steam. This allows the engine to support more weight and increases the freight hauling power, and for the speed to be better adjusted once the engine is in motion.’
Silas studied the plans, marvelling at the genius of the design. It was exactly the kind of engine he’d hoped to win the American patent for, but this one was larger and more advanced and would do twice as much as the engine Silas had originally sought, assuming it really was Mr Cooper’s idea.
‘You didn’t steal this from Mr Williams, did you?’ Silas demanded, unwilling to gain an advantage by such underhanded means. His father had raised him with more ethics than that.
‘No, Mr Fairclough, these designs and others I’ve been working on are entirely my own. I’ve never had the chance to test the designs and make any necessary refinements. Mr Williams is afraid not only of competition from others companies, but from men in his employ. It’s why I’ve come to you. I want the chance to show the world my work and my talents.’
Silas exchanged a knowing look with Mary. ‘That’s certainly something I can sympathise with.’
‘I believe that this is the locomotive you’re searching for to help propel the Baltimore Southern’s ambitions and that it will serve you better than any of Mr Williams’s designs, which an engine like this could easily make obsolete.’
Mary studied the drawings, but Silas could tell by the small crease of confusion between her brows that they meant very little to her. They meant a great deal to him, however. He could see the brilliance of Mr Cooper’s designs, where they had picked up on the flaws of previous engines including Mr Williams’s, and improved upon them.
‘This is excellent work,’ Silas complimented. ‘Where did you train?’
‘I have no formal training, I learned through books and watching other mechanics and engineers over the years. As a result, few people are willing to take me seriously, but I believe that you will. You have the vision that Mr Williams and so many others lack. I’d like very much to come with you to America and work for the Baltimore Southern and give you access to this plan and many others that I have in mind. All I ask is for the chance to prove to you and everyone that I’m a real and true engineer.’
The man spoke with the same passion for experience that Silas had expressed with Richard all those years ago, reminding him of himself when he’d landed in Baltimore. He would give him that chance the same way Richard had given Silas his. ‘Tell me more about your ideas.’
* * *
Silas and Mr Cooper discussed the plans and others he had for different mechanical components for well over an hour. Mary stayed with the gentlemen, playing the hostess and offering the young man tea and finally convincing him to accept food. When everything had been discussed and all the arrangements for Mr Cooper to join the railroad agreed upon, Silas stood and vigorously shook the young engineer’s hand. ‘Welcome to the Baltimore Southern Railway, Mr Cooper. I’ll purchase your Cunard steamer t
icket to America and write the necessary introduction letter for you to my manager and my business partner, Mr Richard Jackson.’
‘Thank you, Mr Fairclough. You won’t regret it.’
‘No, I won’t.’
Once Tibbs had shown Mr Cooper out, Mary came around the table, taking Silas in her arms and looking up at him with an adoration that was worth more than a thousand steam-engine plans. ‘I told you you’d find a new way.’
‘I can’t take credit for this one, it fell in my lap.’
‘But you have the vision to recognise his ideas and to act on them after people like Mr Williams didn’t.’
‘True, like I had the vision to make you my wife before some other Baltimore businessman snapped you up.’
‘And when will we follow Mr Cooper to Baltimore? I have a bachelor’s house there waiting for a woman’s touch, a wedding ball to arrange and a nursery to decorate.’
Silas jerked back, studying Mary to see if she had told him what he thought she had just told him. ‘Is it true?’
‘It is.’
He picked her up and whirled her around with a hoot before setting her on her feet as if she were a fragile porcelain statue. ‘You don’t know how happy this makes me.’
‘Me, too. Perhaps our child will have a marquess as a godfather?’ she said with as much self-satisfied plotting as he regularly employed. ‘You could ask him to do so when you suggest he come to America to see the railroad.’
‘All in good time. We’re here and I’m not ready to think about leaving my family or to miss the opportunity to see what other innovations and possibilities London has to offer, and I don’t think you are either.’
‘No, I’m not.’ She rose up on her toes, touching her forehead to his, her breath teasing him with the chance to be in her arms as completely as a man and wife could be. ‘I love you, Silas.’
