Wild Catriona

by Oliver, Marina

  'Susannah couldn't sing your praises highly enough,' he told Catriona. 'You explained so well to her she's fascinated, and has vowed to purchase some dress lengths. But I shall depend on you to explain the processes to other customers, those who will buy for their warehouses.'

  'Yes, Mistress MacNab has been here again, and told me what designs she wants on her fabric,' Catriona said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

  She wondered at herself. Normally, if anyone had tried to interfere in the way Susannah had, she'd have told Rory in no uncertain terms that she would not endure it. But she was unsure of his feelings for the girl. Did he mean to marry her? From what she could recall of the conversation in the hotel, it seemed his uncle was in favour of the marriage, and surely Mr MacNab would not be so complacent about Susannah's visits to the workshop if he objected? The idea disturbed Catriona. She knew that she cared for Rory more than was suitable. She was penniless now, apart from what she could earn, while he, though not nearly as wealthy as Mr MacNab, had money and was likely to inherit more from his uncle.

  She tried to convince herself that Susannah was a much better match for him than she could ever be. It was the way of the world. Men chose their brides amongst girls who matched them in wealth and status. Love had nothing to do with what was essentially a business arrangement. He would never even consider marriage with her, and until now she had never dared put the idea into words for herself. She'd been attracted to him from the start, but he treated her like a younger sister. He admired her expertise, and listened to her opinions on the processes of printing, and which dyes were effective, but that was all. He had his own social life, and had known Susannah for much longer than he had known her.

  'Humour her,' Rory said now, and Catriona turned away so that he wouldn't see the hurt in her eyes.

  'Very well, I'll do a special design for her, exactly how she says she wants it, but I'd rather you didn't ask me to use it for anyone else. It's much too heavy for a repeated pattern, and not the sort of thing I want to become known for.'

  'She'll like an exclusive pattern,' he said, and Catriona ground her teeth together in frustration. Why didn't he understand?

  Two days later all reticence was forgotten, and when Rory came to the workshop that evening, Catriona attacked him as soon as he was through the door.

  'Susannah MacNab has been here again, interfering!' she announced. 'I won't have it! For some reason she thinks she knows better than I do, and she comes here, interrupting the work, and tries to tell me what designs will sell, and what I must do to alter mine!'

  'Surely not,' Rory said, startled.

  'Do you disbelieve me?' Catriona demanded.

  'No, no, of course not. That wasn't what I meant. I imagine you must be mistaken, that's all.'

  'I am not mistaken,' Catriona said slowly, emphasising each word. 'She wants me to change the designs at her whim.'

  'She's very fashionable,' Rory put in. 'Perhaps she knows the sort of designs her friends would buy.'

  'Nonsense! Not only would she make them fiendishly difficult to do, she would unbalance them, the shape and the colours. It wouldn't work to add extra sprays of flowers and fill the entire background with overlapping leaves. She doesn't understand how they would look in repeated patterns, even though I've shown her.'

  'Could you not compromise, perhaps use some of her ideas but adapt them?'

  Catriona completely lost her temper. 'No, I could not! I'm your designer, and your manager here. If that interfering busybody sets foot in this workroom again, I shall leave. It's bad enough having people coming here all day long, interrupting what we are doing, but I won't endure being told how to do my job by some flighty girl who has never known what it is to do a day's work!'

  Rory stared at her, frowning. 'You don't mean that, Cat! You can't leave me!'

  'Yes, I do mean it! And I would not have any problems finding another position. Then you'd see how your dear Susannah would be able to produce her designs, and sell them, and control everything here!'

  'Another job?' Rory asked, startled. 'Surely you'd not go back to working at a hotel?'

  'I wouldn't need to. Your – or my designs, rather, are going to be a success. Already I'm known for them, and we have as many orders as we can cope with. Do you think your rivals are going to be content to let you have the advantage for long? They'll be setting up their own workshops soon. I've already been offered another position, doing what I do here, but with higher wages.'

  'Who? Cat, who's trying to lure you away? Is it Mackenzie?'

  Catriona shook her head. She was calmer now, and knew she had said too much. 'No, not him. It doesn't matter who. I turned it down. But I know I could always accept.'

  'As we are doing so well, I could increase your wages, if that's what you want.'

  'Oh, don't be so infuriating! I like working here, I enjoy what I'm doing, so long as I am allowed to do it without interference!'

  'Very well, I'll tell Susannah, and her father, that they must not come again.'

  'Thank you.'

  'So you won't leave me?'

  'No,' Catriona said. Not unless you drive me to it, she added under her breath. Not unless it became too painful to see him every day, knowing there was no hope for her.

  *****

  Rory walked slowly to the Tontine Hotel where he was due to dine with his uncle. Matthew had finally decided to return to Braemar, and was planning to set off on the following day.

  'You've done better than I expected,' Matthew admitted rather grudgingly as they sat over the meal. 'If you want to expand, and I can see that it might soon be necessary, I'll put up some money, and I know Silas will too.'

  Rory laughed. 'Do you and Silas ever give up? I started the printing workshop as my own business precisely so that I would have control, not be beholden to you or MacNab. As it is he's trying to interfere and upsetting Cat.'

  'Cat? The Duncan wench you've put in charge? Well, I suppose that's all right for the moment, and her designs are attractive, or at least the customers seem to think so. But when you expand you'll have to get a more experienced manager, a man who can do it properly. Silas has someone in mind.'

  Rory felt his good mood evaporating rapidly. 'Damn Silas! He can keep his ideas to himself!'

  Matthew chuckled. 'Young Susannah was looking very fetching at her ball. I'm astounded she hasn't given up on you and accepted some other lucky dog. Don't know what she sees in you, stubborn young fool that you are. But no doubt, like most women, she thinks that once the ring's on her finger she'll be able to twist you round it too.'

  'Forget Susannah!' Rory snapped. He was finding the pressure on him, Silas's demands, Susannah's hints and wistful glances, and now Matthew's insinuations, unendurable.

  'You'll have to settle it soon.'

  'There's nothing to settle. The business is more important. Joshua heard something interesting today. One of the weavers who left me to work for Mackenzie wants to come back. Apparently Mackenzie isn't paying them on time. He seems to have run through his money, and I also heard he was asking the British Linen Company for another loan.'

  'Then he'll be off our backs soon.'

  'Yes, and I want to ask his weavers to come back.'

  'Then you'll have more than we want,' Matthew said, looking alarmed.

  'We will pick up the markets he's losing, so we'll need more plain linens, and Cat says we can increase production of the printed ones faster now her workers are familiar with the processes. Are you happy if I expand?'

  Matthew protested, but after Rory produced some figures and estimates of profits if all went as he anticipated, he reluctantly gave his consent.

  'You'll not be happy until you ruin me,' he complained.

  'I won't do that.' Rory promised, and walked back to the office, hoping that most of his problems had been solved. Matthew was being more reasonable, and Cat, thank goodness, after her uncharacteristic outburst, had simmered down. He'd hate to lose her now, she was part of his
life as well as his business. In fact, she'd given him the excuse he needed to ask Silas to keep away. The man might protest, but if Rory pointed out that to interfere himself, or permit Susannah to, would probably ruin his new venture, he was sure they would be reasonable. Then Cat would be content, and he could anticipate profit ahead.

  *****

  Catriona locked the workshop and set off for home. It was late, cold and dark, but she'd been experimenting with a new, more complicated design which involved very thin strips of copper hammered into the block to produce finer lines than she could achieve by carving. It was a technique she had seen used in Holland, but until now had never used it herself. She had wanted to be on her own when she first tried it.

  As she turned towards the Cathedral a man stepped out from the wall against which he'd been lounging. She glanced at him, shadowy in the faint light from flares set in sconces on the far side of the street. He was smartly dressed, with a full wig, and the light caught the gleam of gold on his fingers as he raised his hat.

  'Mistress Duncan?' he asked, and his voice was quiet and cultured.

  'What do you want?'

  He was unlikely to be asking for employment. Over the past few weeks she had been approached on several occasions by both men and women who had heard of her workshop and thought she might be looking for workpeople.

  'You may have heard of me, Mistress Duncan. My name is Mackenzie, Angus Mackenzie, and I am a linen manufacturer. May I walk with you so that we can talk?'

  'Mr Mackenzie? Yes, I have heard your name,' Catriona replied slowly. What was the man doing here? Did he hope to spy on Rory, or persuade her to divulge information about the business? They had heard little about his own doings of late, apart from his delay in paying his weavers, and had decided he was no longer a threat to them.

  'And I imagine you have heard no good words about me, at least not from Rory Napier or his uncle.'

  He was laughing, and Catriona peered up into his face, intrigued, trying to read his expression. Was he as genuinely amused as he sounded?

  'What do you want with me?' she asked curtly, beginning to walk along the street.

  He kept pace with her. 'A business proposition, my dear Mistress Duncan. I have been told all about your artistic skills, and I have seen some of the printed fabrics Napier is selling. They are good, excellent, in fact, and I congratulate you.'

  'Thank you, sir.'

  She walked on for a while in silence, waiting, wondering what he intended, though she had an inkling what the proposition would be.

  'I plan to compete with Napier,' he said bluntly. 'I will offer you twice what he is paying you if you will come and design exclusively for me.'

  'Twice?' Catriona said, startled. Rory had only just increased what he gave her, once they had begun selling the fabrics and knew they were being successful, and he had been generous.

  'Isn't that enough?' he asked quickly. 'How much do you want? If it's at all reasonable I will endeavour to pay it.'

  'Tell me first why you need me,' Catriona said. 'Why me in particular, I mean. There must be many people who have my skills and can carve designs.'

  'None with your talent.'

  ''You flatter me, sir. Have you sold more horses?'

  'Horses? What the devil do you mean?'

  She stopped, right under a wall sconce where she could see his expression in the light from the flare. 'I believe, Mr Mackenzie, that you sold a pair of prized horses, and a carriage, some time ago. It was widely believed that you were in need of money. Also, it was believed you needed that money so that you could pay your spinners and weavers more than Mr Napier was able to pay his.'

  He looked startled at her bluntness. 'That's nonsense!'

  'Is it? You must admit that you tried to drive Mr Napier out of business by enticing his weavers with higher wages, then undercutting him in the price at which you sold your linen. You could not make the business profitable.'

  'I admit no such thing!' His voice dropped, and he spoke with great persuasiveness. 'There is room for us both, and what I choose to pay my workers is nothing to do with Napier! Surely the fact that I am offering you a large wage shows that I am generous to my workers, because I want to attract the best?'

  'It shows that you try to compete with Rory – Mr Napier, unfairly! Why, having stolen his weavers, you are now trying to entice me away, which proves what I say.'

  'No, no, you misunderstand me.'

  'I understand you very well indeed. No thank you, Mr Mackenzie, I have no wish to come and work for you, however tempting you make the offer.'

  Until now he had been smiling ingratiatingly, but in a flash his expression changed. His mouth thinned, he screwed up his eyes, and suddenly, instead of the mildly pleasant man he had seemed, he appeared vicious and mean.

  'You'll regret this!' he snarled. 'I don't let chits of females get the better of me!'

  For a few moments Catriona thought he was going to attack her as he clenched his hands into fists, then with a great effort he controlled himself and stepped away from her.

  'You're in love with Napier,' he sneered. 'You called him Rory. Don't you know he's promised to the MacNab wench? Or is he trying to get out of that? Are you the reason he hasn't offered all these months, when the clubs are running a book on when he'll come up to scratch? But I can't see him marrying a wench from nowhere, without money. Perhaps you don't hope for marriage, you're content to be his doxy! Well, I wish you joy of him when Silas finds out the truth. Take care, Mistress Duncan, walking home alone late at night. Your body might vanish into the Clyde.'

  *****

  Chapter 14

  April 1759

  Rory sat back and looked across the desk towards Catriona, sitting facing him. 'Congratulations,' he said.

  'It's working well, isn't it?' Catriona replied. In fact the results for March had been so exceptionally good she had been afraid she'd made a mistake in calculating the profit. Rory had checked her figures and agreed with them. He was delighted.

  'You're producing as much as you can, at the moment?' he asked thoughtfully.

  'We can increase the amount a little, but I have a suggestion which might make it even more profitable.'

  'You mean the printers can work more quickly? Can produce more each day as they get faster?'

  'No. They are already printing as fast as possible given the amount of room we have. Yes, I know it's possible to do more, but then the quality would probably be damaged.'

  'Then let's find larger premises, a bigger workshop, or even a second one if you don't want to move from here.'

  Catriona stared at him in astonishment. She was normally the one urging him to new ventures.

  'How would that help?'

  'We could have more tables, more room to spread out what is drying, so we'd produce faster and sell more, and yet more profit.'

  He didn't understand. It was the same problem as when they had been searching for this workroom, and he'd have been content with the first they saw. He couldn't see it all had to be exactly right for it to succeed.

  'And before that, I'd have to train more printers?' she asked.

  'You could do that.'

  'Maybe, but it would take time and energy, when I am fully occupied here.'

  Rory leaned across the desk and took her hands in his. 'Just consider it, Cat. Gordon could manage here, if we opened another workshop.'

  'No, he couldn't.'

  'Why not? Surely you're not against him, afraid he'd usurp your position?'

  Catriona laughed, and before she lost track of her thoughts she stood up, pulling her hands from Rory's grasp. The office was so small, almost filled with the desk and a cupboard, she had room only for a couple of paces in each direction. But she had to keep her distance. He was too attractive, too distracting. She couldn't afford to let her feelings for him override her commonsense, her instinct for what was realistic.

  'Of course not,' she said quietly. 'He's an excellent printer, when he's told what to do. Bu
t he needs telling, he can't make decisions on his own. He's not experienced enough. Maybe, in time, but not yet. And he doesn't know much about dyes, he just uses what I provide. If there were problems he would not be able to solve them.'

  'Then we'll employ someone who does.'

  She shook her head. 'It wouldn't work, Rory. I'd have to divide my time, and I've none to spare. If I had to spend time at another workshop, and were unable to oversee this one properly, we'd risk problems at both of them.'

  'I don't agree. You have to be willing to trust others, Cat. You're too independent. We could get two managers, and instead of your having to deal with the daily problems, you could do the carving, plan the work, and give advice.'

  Catriona closed her eyes briefly in exasperation. 'It's too soon. We may appear to be doing well now, but we still have to establish a reputation for reliability, as well as consistent quality for our fabric. You'd risk what we already have by expanding too rapidly. In any case, you haven't listened to my idea, which could bring in just as much extra profit.'

  He smiled at her, and she felt her heart turn over. When he looked like that she wanted nothing better than to touch him, feel his hands holding hers, and experience the occasional light kiss he dropped on her cheek when he was particularly pleased. And she'd stupidly imagined he'd be pleased with her new idea, not obsessed with this impractical one of his own.

  'Well, tell me. What do you want to do?'

  If only he knew, she thought, and dragged her wandering thoughts back to the business in hand.

  'When customers come here they are most complimentary about the designs. Several of them, like Mistress MacNab, have asked if we could produce exclusive designs for them. She wants a gown, but the others want them for furnishing fabrics, window and bed-hangings, mainly, and the advantage for us is that we could use a greater range of colours, since they would not fade so quickly or the ones which are not fast be washed out.'