But when he turned the corner, he felt better, noting how others gave way to him, as he had given way to better-dressed men in the past. Once more, he wondered who he was.
By the time he arrived at the warehouse, he had put those thoughts behind him again. Who he had been was not important. Who he would become was what filled his mind. He would work harder than anyone could expect of him, provide good value to Mr. Gardiner, and repay the man’s kindness to him.
He wondered how the niece had got on with her observations in the warehouse. She had an impertinent manner. He smiled, it was not for him to take any notice of her. She was very young yet, and perhaps her lively manner would calm with maturity.
It would be a pity. She was likely to grow up to be an arresting young woman, and a lively mind would also be an asset.
6
1811
London
* * *
Elizabeth sat at Mrs. Oliver’s desk with her as as the woman pointed out the changes which had been made over the last few years. She needed to concentrate on this, for it was becoming ever more likely she might need all the knowledge she could gain.
It was unfortunate she’d not been able to come to London recently. But Papa had insisted she remain at home. It seemed he had been lonely and as he became older, he wanted her company.
But earlier this week, Mama had finally lost patience. Elizabeth had enraged her by insisting Jane refuse Mr. Collins’ offer, and then refused to marry the man herself.
When Mr. Collins, disgusted, had transferred his attentions to Charlotte Lucas, and they’d become engaged, Papa had been resigned.
“You’ll be better in London for a few weeks, Lizzy,” he sighed. “Perhaps your mother will become reconciled to the facts soon.”
“Oh, Papa, I’m sorry.” Elizabeth had embraced him. “I didn’t do this in order to get sent away, but …” she stopped when he raised his hand.
“I know it, Lizzy. After all, you’d have had a lifetime with him, long after your mother and I are gone.” His smile was twisted. “But I’ll miss you. It’s been agreeable having so much more of your company these last few years.”
“Oh, Papa! Why don’t you come to London with me? You know the atmosphere is much more peaceful there.”
But her father had shaken his head. “You forget your aunt and uncle now have five small children. But the reason I will not is because the smog will only get worse as the winter draws in, Lizzy. No, I am better here, but I pray you write to me often. I will anticipate your news impatiently.”
Now Elizabeth wondered if she ought to have refused to comply with her mother’s demands and stayed at home with Papa. She hoped he would recover his spirits and feel improved soon.
But she could not fail to find her life here in town more interesting, and she turned her mind to Mrs. Oliver’s words as they pored over the newest patterns and the seamstress discussed her ordering intentions with Uncle Gardiner.
However, she had to admit to herself her mind wasn’t entirely on new fabrics. It had been a number of years since she’d been here. And over those years, she knew her memory had magnified the appearance of the handsome young working lad in her mind.
Her aunt rarely mentioned him in her letters, but what she did say told Elizabeth her uncle valued his insight and hard work immensely.
This summer, he’d taken Mr. Stoke into partnership with him, and also invested capital in the young man’s own business venture.
At dinner last night, she’d asked her uncle what it was about the man which had led him to mentor him so generously.
Her uncle had raised his eyebrows. “He never expected anything as a gift, but has worked prodigiously hard on anything he undertakes. He’s willing to study whatever I suggest might be of benefit to him, and has increased my income substantially with his ideas and energy.”
Elizabeth laughed. “It is a glowing report.” She’d turned to her aunt. “And what do you think of him yourself, Aunt?”
“I know nothing about him, Lizzy — except what your uncle tells me.” She nodded at the maid to clear the plates. “I’ve been busy, as you know, with the children.”
“I’m so lucky,” Elizabeth teased. “Three little girls to tell stories of fairies and princesses.”
Her uncle laughed. “The boys will be disappointed without some indulgence to their interests, too.”
Elizabeth pushed thoughts of the previous evening away. “So, how do you discover what is going to be fashionable next season, Mrs. Oliver?”
The seamstress’s desk was in an open corner of the warehouse. Workers were in constant passage past it, and Elizabeth felt an annoyance on behalf of Mrs. Oliver. Her work was important, and she deserved to have retained an office of her own, surely.
“I am content here, Miss Bennet.” The seamstress smiled. “I used to have an office, as you must remember, but it is better here. I give small pieces of fabric to some of the men to take home to their wives, and they bring back their opinions and preferences.” She looked at Elizabeth.
“It all helps when I can hear from other women what they like. They might not be ladies of the ton, but I find their views usually accord with those of the customers who bring their business.”
Elizabeth looked at her wonderingly. “I would never have thought of it.”
Mrs. Oliver laughed. “We have one man who has worked here for so long now, his wife has made a piecework coverlet for her new grandchild with scraps of the finest satin. When Mr. Gardiner heard of it, he authorised me to send her a few yards of petticoat silk to make the lining.” Her eyes glistened. “He is the best master to work for, and it makes his people very loyal.”
Footsteps going past the desk hesitated and stopped. “We are all able to attest to his generosity, Mrs. Oliver.”
Elizabeth glanced up at the voice. She’d not heard him speak last time, but knew without doubt the voice belonged to him. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sound of it. He must come from the highest society in all the land. His voice was flawless, the intonation perfect. She shivered.
His features were unmistakable. Good breeding showed in the lines of his jaw, his handsome mien, and his tall, upright posture. “Mr. Stoke, I seem to remember.” She rose to her feet, her heart still behaving in a peculiar fashion.
“Indeed.” He bowed to her. “Miss Bennet. Your uncle has been anticipating your return to London with great pleasure.”
She blushed. “Thank you.” His attire now matched his appearance very well. He looked every inch the gentleman, from his beautifully tied cravat to his silver-tipped cane.
She dropped her eyes, embarrassed by her blush. Even the tips of his highly polished boots gleamed, and she knew instantly why her uncle had made him a partner in the business.
He bowed again, and excused himself, and she watched him knock at the door of her uncle’s office. Surely, as his partner, he could just enter?
“The change in Mr. Stoke has been remarkable,” Mrs. Oliver commented, as she opened another great ledger. “Were you here when he first took up an apprenticeship?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I saw him briefly when he first called on my uncle, but not after that.”
The older woman laughed. “He never said anything, but he worked so hard himself, it reflected on us all. We all found ourselves wanting to work harder.” She shrugged slightly. “His appearance has changed most of all, but he is not proud and still talks to us as equals.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.” Elizabeth tried to push away the memory of those dark eyes with their intense gaze.
Later, in her bedchamber, her voice hoarse with telling stories, first to the tiny girls in the nursery, and then to the two boys in their chamber, Elizabeth looked thoughtfully out of the window.
It had been very difficult to concentrate on what Mrs. Oliver had said, because her heartbeat had been so disordered after Mr. Stoke had stopped to speak to her. But, eventually, she’d managed to push thoughts of him aside, although she
wondered what he and Uncle Gardiner talked about.
How much did her uncle know of him, she wondered? His first appearance had been unconventional, and his rapid rise within the business equally unusual. She was determined to know more of what had happened in his past.
Her lips twitched, she was determined not to arouse any suspicion in the minds of her relations. She would need to word her enquiry with discretion.
It would be a challenge over dinner to find out more. When the time came, she hurried downstairs to join her aunt and uncle.
She explained to her aunt what Mrs. Oliver had said about how she tried to find out what fabrics would be in fashion next season.
Aunt Gardiner nodded. “She regularly sends me quite large samples, asking for my thoughts. Those of my friends who are not too above themselves are also happy to assist me with their opinions.”
Elizabeth laughed, and waited while the maid served her. She turned to her uncle. “Mrs. Oliver also gave me examples of how all those who work for you are loyal and think you an admirable employer.”
“Get along with you, Lizzy!” Uncle Gardiner laughed, unembarrassed. “It is good business to treat employees well.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Certainly.” She watched him dish a few more potatoes onto his plate. “Mr. Stoke stopped and agreed with what Mrs. Oliver was saying.” She breathed carefully. “He’s changed very much since I last saw him.”
“Indeed.” Her uncle reached for the gravy boat. “I’m grateful every day that he is working with me, and not for any of my competitors.”
Elizabeth concentrated on her plate. “His appearance is very different now. It seems to go much better with his countenance.”
Her uncle nodded. “He is a very handsome young man.”
She kept her voice light and disinterested. “Did you ever find out his story, Uncle? It is obvious he was gently born, and his voice shows he was brought up to a high station.”
Her uncle glanced at her. “I have heard a little of what seems to have happened, but I am not at liberty to share what he has confided in me. Suffice it to say I believe him, and trust he has the best interests of my business at heart.”
Elizabeth was dismayed. “I did not mean to impute any suspicion of him.”
He smiled benevolently at her. “No, I’m sure you didn’t, Lizzy. Now, what was your aunt saying about taking you to the Royal Academy tomorrow?”
7
William dressed carefully in his tiny chamber. A few months ago, he had invested a few shillings to purchase a larger glass and had mounted it on the wall. It was important he could check his appearance before going to Cheapside.
Now he was able to dress as a prosperous tradesman, almost indistinguishable from a gentleman. He scrutinised his reflection, making sure all was in order, before turning on his heel and leaving the room. As he strode up the road, he wondered if Miss Bennet would accompany her uncle again today.
He smiled wryly, she was quite grown up. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t anticipated it. He strode along, oblivious to the jostling crowd. It seemed she had kept her impertinent air, and he wondered if he’d have the opportunity to engage her in conversation at all.
He rarely spoke to anyone outside the confines of business, and certainly never to a young lady of her class. His gut tightened, and he pushed away the emotion quickly, glancing round to ensure no one was paying him attention.
He must not demonstrate any untoward interest in Miss Bennet — he owed her uncle far too much to risk discomposing him. But, of course, his business and investments made him far more secure to begin family life than the hand-to-mouth existence of a stable lad. He smiled tightly, he’d certainly paid with many years of hard work to get to this point.
But Miss Bennet was a gentleman’s daughter. She ought to marry above her own level, marry a man who could make her more secure than even her own family, a gentleman who could afford to make a good settlement on her, to benefit their children.
He stopped, and stared out over the heads of the crowd. It was quite certain he ought not to be thinking in this way — especially not with regard to the niece of his benefactor.
He turned into the warehouse with relief. At least he was only here for a few hours this morning. Then he would take his leave. He’d be away for at least ten days, travelling to the north, and he was glad of it.
“Come in, William!” Gardiner’s voice boomed out as he entered the entrance vestibule, and he turned to smile at the man who was becoming his closest friend as well as his mentor. He turned into the office and bowed respectfully.
“Good morning, Mr. Gardiner.”
Gardiner rose from his desk and poked his head through the door. Once he’d sent for tea, he came back and sat in one of the comfortable chairs at the other end of the room, beckoning William to join him.
“Let’s talk about your trip to Yorkshire, William,” he began, before William had even taken his seat. “I know you will have done your research on the man you’re going to meet.”
William smiled. “Mr. Charles Bingley. Yes, sir. I’ve studied his business quite closely, and I think he will be able to take on our work if he wishes to.” He frowned slightly. “It seems his father passed about two years ago, and the son is not as involved in the business as much as the father. Instead he is living the life of a gentleman, although he is but three and twenty. It might be I see the foreman. But I will do what I can.”
Gardiner’s eyes were on him. “You have a secondary plan in reserve, I think.”
William nodded, but didn’t speak until Molly had brought the tea tray and left again, closing the door behind her. “I have, Mr. Gardiner. But I think it would be unlikely we could gain enough control of the company soon enough to benefit the proposal I have worked up. We may have to look elsewhere.” He reached out for his cup. “With the war as it is at present, I think it would be very easy now to convince the military procurement people that provision ought to be solely in British hands.”
Gardiner nodded, his eyes on William. “You’ve already secured the contract for the fleeces, haven’t you?”
William nodded. “Even if this proposal doesn’t win approval, it will be a good business. And Bingley’s mill is a secure one. I have invested a few pounds in it as an ordinary shareholder already, and will continue to do so when appropriate.” He frowned slightly.
“Tailoring is the one remaining issue before I ask you to assist me in gaining audience with the military. We will need, I think, to start two tailoring houses, one offering bespoke work for officers, and another, with more general sizing, for other ranks.” He shrugged.
“We know most of these houses outsource nearly all their work anyway. I doubt there will be an issue in gaining skilled workers.”
Gardiner nodded. “I think I can take on the tailoring houses. It’ll not be so very different to the work we do for the ladies. I’ll speak to my wife about whether ladies will think it appropriate for officers’ tailoring to be linked with their own modistes, or whether they ought to be linked under your own business name to appear to be separate.”
William nodded. “I’m concerned we do not delay this too long, sir. We cannot be the only people to have thought of security of provision. But I think we are further along than most.”
The older man put down his cup. “Are you certain you’ll travel by post? If you hire a coach, you can work while travelling.” His glance was astute. “And, dressed as you are now, the post is less appropriate for you, and less safe.”
William had nodded his head, but the man’s last words gave him pause. “I had decided so, but …” He lowered his cup. “I was going to wear my old suit, the very cheap one, and pack this for actually meeting Bingley. But if you think it better to do it the other way, I suppose I ought to reconsider.”
He frowned, looking down. He would far rather invest the money than spend it in such a frivolous manner, but when Gardiner had said less safe, William had shuddered, thinking at once of those long-ago da
ys. He looked up. “They must be convinced I am dead, this many years on.”
Gardiner nodded, knowing what he was talking about. “I agree, William, and I’m sorry if what I said caused you any anguish. But you do have a distinctive appearance, and, as you move up in social standing, you may come across someone from your past.”
He was the only man who knew any part of the story of William’s discovery, though he knew none of the identifying details. He leaned forward. “William, I think you ought to agree to hire a coach. In fact, I will book one for you. After all, this business will increase my profits greatly, too.”
William smiled. “And mine. But I would be well catching the post.”
Gardiner stood up. “No. You go and gather your paperwork, and dispose of whatever it was you were going to do this morning, and I will send for a coach. You can then depart at your own convenience, not that of the post.”
William bowed his head. “Well, I will not demur further. Thank you, sir, it’s very generous.”
The other man laughed. “Oh, if you wish to repay the favour, I have one I want to ask of you in return — when you get back.”
William raised his eyebrows. “Is it that much of a penance, to justify such expense to gain my agreement?”
“Not at all!” Gardiner smiled, almost mischievously. “Now, if you get away promptly, you will have some hours to explore the town before your appointments. I know you always say it is well to know the temper of a place before investing.”
He went to the door. “And take some general reading material. You will be at least three nights on the road getting there.”
William bowed. “I will take your advice. Thank you.”
8
It was nearly two weeks later when William wearily descended from the coach outside the warehouse. He knew Mr. Gardiner would be anxious to hear the details, for no sensitive detail could be trusted to a letter.
The Lost Heir Page 3
