Dinner dragged on, and Jason did his best to endure it with a smile. Some members of parliament and even the king’s nephew were present. The conversation was full of flattery and gossip, none of which interested Jason. The only people he cared about were Lord and Lady Conrad and the potential business he could do with them.
Finally the dessert was cleared away, and Lord Conrad stood, tossing his napkin onto the table. “Ladies, if you will excuse us, I believe there are cigars and brandy awaiting us in the smoking room.” He nodded to the other gentleman, and they left.
Jason rose to join them, but on his way to the door, he stopped by Lady Conrad and took her hand, placing it to his lips. “Thank you for a most excellent evening, my lady. I enjoyed it immensely.” Her eyes sparkled at the compliment. Beneath the graying hair and soft wrinkles, she was a handsome woman. The perfect wife for a man of Lord Conrad’s standing.
Martin joined him on his way out. The feeling that his secretary looked down on him was accentuated by the fact that the man’s thin frame was several inches taller than Jason’s. His hair and eyes were an ordinary shade of brown, as if even they adhered to propriety by refusing to be an outlandish color. Those brown eyes were looking at him like Martin was surprised Jason knew how to behave in public. It was irritating. It seemed Martin would never understand the difference between business and pleasure.
In the smoking room, Jason accepted the cigar Lord Conrad handed him. He had never been fond of the habit; it reminded him of his father. Still, he knew how to smoke, and he wouldn’t turn away the generosity. Martin on the other hand, lit up at the offer. He loved to smoke, but Jason had forbidden it when the secretary came to live with him. At least someone would enjoy the evening.
After the small talk was over, Lord Conrad turned to Jason. “I assume you know why I invited you here tonight, other than for the pleasure of your company, of course.”
“Of course,” Jason said.
“I’m considering becoming a shipbuilder. I’ve always loved ships, and I want to build great big luxury liners, the likes of which no one has ever seen.”
“If there’s any man who can do it, it’s you.”
“I have my eye on a shipyard on the southern coast.”
Jason kept his expression neutral. “I had heard.”
“I noticed you have a new steel mill there.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’ll be needing a supplier; seems logical to talk to the man next door.” Conrad nodded at Jason.
“I am the closest, but that’s not why you’re going to do business with me.”
“Really?” A smile tugged at the corner of Lord Conrad’s mouth, and Jason could tell the lord found his arrogance amusing. It wasn’t arrogance, though; it was the confidence of knowledge.
“Really. You’re going to do business with me because I can supply you with enough steel to build a whole fleet. No one else can promise you that.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, as I’m sure you know, we don’t mine a lot of iron in Arine. We rely on foreign imports, mainly from Panea.”
“Panean mines account for over seventy percent of Arine’s iron,” Martin interjected. Jason grinned. This was why he kept the secretary around. He was always handy with the numbers and figures to support what Jason said.
“Exactly. Now, you may be aware that there’s some unrest in Panea. They’re on the brink of war over disputes at their northern border. The prime minister will soon be ordering that all iron stay in the country to support their own steel production. When that happens, the steel mills here in Arine are going to find themselves without an adequate supply. They can try to buy locally, or they can pay inflated prices from Naiara.”
“So how am I better off with you?”
“Ah, well a little over a year ago, I made an investment in an up and coming mining operation. The terms of my investment give me certain advantageous options in buying any resulting ore from the mine. They have just hit a new deposit, and production is going to far exceed their projections.” Jason leaned forward in his chair and waited until Lord Conrad mirrored the motion. “And I just bought it. All of it.”
The admiration in Lord Conrad’s eyes was impossible to miss. “It looks as if your youth hides a cunning mind, Mr. Wadsworth.”
Jason couldn’t help smiling as he sat back in his chair. “Thank you.”
Conrad laughed as he also leaned back, appraising Jason. “You’re good, boy. You’ve certainly given me a lot to think about tonight. And saints know you charmed my wife. I doubt I’ll hear the end of it until I invite you back.”
“I’d be delighted to visit any time.”
“Well, with business out of the way, what do you say we get a refill on our brandies?”
“I would love to. However, I’m afraid I must decline.” Jason set his glass down on a nearby table and stood. “Martin and I must set off early tomorrow for a mill inspection.” Martin rose with him.
“Quite right, I remember you telling me that. Still, what can one more hurt?”
Jason had to fight not to laugh. One more brandy wouldn’t hurt him a bit. He just wanted to get back to his room so he could polish off the bottle of whiskey he had brought. “I must keep this cunning mind clear, Lord Conrad.”
The older man chuckled and wagged his finger at Jason. “I admire your dedication, lad. There was a time when I was the same.” Lord Conrad looked over his shoulder at one of the slaves standing against the wall, ready to serve. “You there, show Mr. Wadsworth and Mr. Grimlock to their rooms.”
“Yes, Master.” The slave bowed and went for candles that were laid out on a side table for just this purpose. The wonders of electric lighting had yet to make it out to most country estates.
Lord Conrad stood and shook Jason’s hand. “Have a good night. I won’t see you in the morning, but you’ll be hearing from me.”
“Thank you, my lord. Please convey my thanks to your lovely wife for her hospitality.”
“I will.”
Jason nodded to the slave, who waited unobtrusively behind Martin with two candles, and they were led to their rooms.
Chapter Seven
“This is your room, Mr. Wadsworth.” The slave opened the door and handed him one of the two candles.
“Thank you,” Jason said. The small sparkle in the boy’s eye gave away that he wasn’t used to hearing those two words.
“I can find my own later.” Martin waved a dismissive hand at the slave and took the offered candle. Jason narrowed his eyes at Martin. Why couldn’t he just go to bed and let him be?
“Your room is the one next door, Mr. Grimlock,” the slave said with a bow.
Another impatient wave from Martin, and the slave was gone. Martin turned his attention to Jason and spoke. “Don’t give me that look. The last thing I need is you causing a scene with the slave who is undoubtedly waiting to attend you.”
“I don’t cause scenes with slaves. I’m more polite to them than you are.”
“Hmph.”
Jason pushed the door all the way open and entered the room. Standing in the middle of it was a man about his own age. Jason spoke directly to him. “Thank you, but your services are not needed tonight.”
The slave looked up, and Jason could see the worry in his eyes.
“Sir, my master wanted me to wait on you tonight. I can draw you a bath, set out your clothes for tomorrow, help you undress.”
“There’s no need.” The words didn’t seem to reassure the slave. “You’re in no trouble, I promise you. I just prefer to be alone.” The slave’s eyes darted to Martin, and Jason laughed. “Yes, my associate here has a hard time obeying orders. I’ll be kicking him out too.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you, sir?”
“I’m sure.” Jason went up to the man and put a hand on his arm. “Please, I promise I’ll make sure your master knows that it’s not your fault you were sent away.”
The slave bowed his head and lef
t.
“It’s going to be seen as a slight, you refusing Lord Conrad’s hospitality.” Martin spoke from just inside the doorway as Jason went about removing his waistcoat.
“What do I care? It’s not something that will affect our future business relationship, and that’s all you should be worried about.” Jason looked around the room for his valise and found it next to a desk. Inside was his bottle of whiskey. If only Martin would leave, he could get to drinking it.
“That slave has reason to fear. You can bet he’s the one who’s going to suffer for it.”
Jason strode to Martin, pointing a finger in his face. “No, because you’re going to make sure he doesn’t.” Jason stayed poised with his finger mere inches from Martin’s nose until Martin swallowed and nodded. Satisfied, Jason went to the bed and sat to take off his shoes.
“What is it you have against slaves?”
“I don’t have anything against them. We use them in the mills. I will not take a personal slave. It’s as simple as that. You’re welcome to avail yourself of the one provided for you.” Jason removed his shoes while Martin watched. When he was done, he made eye contact. Martin still didn’t say anything. “Is there any reason you’re still here, Martin?”
“Yes, I wanted to know how you knew about the Panean prime minister.”
Jason smirked as he removed one sock. “I didn’t, but it sounded about right.”
Martin laughed. “Aren’t you worried he’ll find out you were lying?”
Jason removed the other sock and laid both on top of his shoes. “No, he won’t check. We’ll have a deal before things get too bad in Panea. Rich people only fear one thing: not being as rich as they could be. The fear brought on by the possibility of missing out on a deal will drive him to act.”
“That’s an interesting opinion you have of the class to which you belong.” Listening to Martin, Jason couldn’t help thinking of the man who had taught him that opinion. “You don’t seem to share the fear of losing wealth.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t consider it my money. A wise man once told me that if you have nothing, you have nothing to fear.” Jason wondered how true that was. Fears still lurked in dark corners of his mind. Shaking his head to clear it, he set about undoing his cufflinks.
“Well, I’m not willing to bet on fear alone. I’ll have a thank you card ready to be mailed as soon as we get home. I’ll also find out Lady Conrad’s favorite wine and have it sent over.”
Jason’s mind was on the ghost who haunted him. Kale would have known Lady Conrad’s favorite wine already. He would have known the right thing to say, how to get exactly what he wanted. It came naturally to him in a way it never would to Jason. “Gods, I miss him.”
“Who?”
Jason whipped his head around toward Martin. Had he really spoken out loud? “Oh, no one.”
Martin’s eyes narrowed, and Jason knew he wouldn’t let it go.
“Kale.” It was peculiar hearing that name on Martin’s lips.
“What do you know about Kale?” His brow furrowed, and his voice was louder than it had been all night.
“Nothing, you won’t tell me anything. But I hear you say his name. Was he a friend?”
The pressure built up behind Jason’s eyes until something gave. He let out a breath, and his shoulders relaxed. “He was the best man I ever knew. He would have known exactly what to do tonight. He could read people like no one I’ve ever met.”
“So that’s where you learned it?”
The thought of comparing himself to Kale in any way was ludicrous, and Jason’s eyes focused on Martin. What was he doing? He was not talking to a confidant, and he needed to remember it. “That’s none of your business. Is that all, Martin?”
“Yes, sir. Remember we’re leaving early tomorrow. We’re scheduled to have lunch at the mill, and it’s several hours from here. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
“I’m sure you are,” Jason said dryly.
Finally, Martin was gone. Jason went to his valise, fishing out the bottle of whiskey. He gave a sardonic chuckle as he unscrewed the lid. He wasn’t anything like Kale. If he was, he wouldn’t take such pleasure in the burn of the whiskey going down his throat. And he certainly wouldn’t be planning to drink the rest of the bottle knowing the work ahead of him in the morning.
Chapter Eight
There was a tiny crease between Jason’s eyes, deeper than the usual worry lines that marked his face. Martin always wondered what had caused them. Probably the same life experiences that gave his brown eyes the depth of a much older man. It was as if he had undergone a great ordeal, and these were the scars he bore. They were incongruous with his creamy skin that spoke of a privileged life.
A bump in the road caused the carriage to lurch and the crease deepened. The jostling must be wreaking havoc on his headache, Martin thought. He had become proficient in discerning the signs of a hangover in Jason. His employer kept himself together and never let on that his head was pounding, but Martin could tell. A part of him had hoped that the change of scenery would be enough to get Jason out of this latest bout of depression, but it had been a naïve hope. The man must have packed his own alcohol for the trip.
Jason was an enigma. How could a man so self-destructive be so good at his work? Martin wished to someday be as good a businessman as Mr. Wadsworth. He felt no shame in admitting that a man six years younger had a world of knowledge to teach him. If only Jason would let him in, let him learn. Who sitting at that dinner table last night would have guessed what Jason had been up to after he got to his room, or that he had to be forcibly removed from seedy bars with more frequency than Martin was comfortable with?
More mysterious than Jason’s duality was his slip-up. Martin had heard the name Kale before, but only when Jason was either drunk or didn’t know Martin could hear him. The little exchange last night was more personal than Jason had ever been with him. Even if it had only lasted for a moment, it was something.
Who was this Kale, and what had happened to him? The easy answer was that he was a lost lover. The thought of Jason ever having an intimate relationship tried to enter Martin’s mind and failed. Perhaps Kale was a brother who had died. Martin knew nothing about Jason’s family, other than that he didn’t have contact with them. A dead sibling could be the reason for that.
“It’s not polite to stare.”
Martin hadn’t noticed Jason’s eyes settling on him. “I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t really. More like I was lost in thought.” He didn’t know where he was expected to rest his gaze. Jason’s bench had windows, but Martin’s didn’t. He could either look at the plain black walls or at Jason.
“Hmph. Thinking about what?”
“Our agenda for the day.” The truth could only make the next several hours in the small coach uncomfortable. “Wondering if we’ll really be working with Lord Conrad. What it will mean if we do. Those kinds of things.”
“Well, there’s no sense in thinking about Conrad. He’s either going to become a shipbuilder and buy from us, or he’s not. I think he is, but if you don’t, that’s fine. It doesn’t make a difference either way. If he buys from us, Arlington Steel will go from being the largest steel company in the country to the largest on the continent. Our lives won’t change at all, so there’s no use fretting about it.”
For a man who was so good at acquiring money, Jason was certainly blasé about it. He was right. Looking at Jason’s life, there was no way to tell he was one of the wealthiest men in Arine. If his lifestyle didn’t reflect his current fortune, there was no reason to think that adding to his wealth would cause any significant change.
“You’re right, as always. Would you like to go over today’s agenda?”
“If you feel it’s necessary.”
Jason didn’t look at all interested, but at least this way the conversation wouldn’t become awkward, and Martin wouldn’t go back to staring. He picked up his leather-bound planner and found
the appropriate pages.
“When we arrive, we’ll be having lunch with the general manager, Mr. Jones; his secretary, Mr. Walnick; and the head foreman, Mr. Pernicky, who is in charge of the floor. We will then review operational and financial reports. Next, we’ll hear how they’ve implemented changes since our last meeting and what they feel still needs to be addressed. At that time, we will also discuss plans for future expansion.”
“So we’re going to be in the offices all day?”
“Yes, sir. Tomorrow we’ll do the walkabout and inspect operations firsthand. You also expressed interest in surveying the surrounding properties as potential sites for expansion.”
“I want to do that first thing tomorrow. We’ll do the walkabout after.”
“Very well, sir.” Martin jotted a note to remind himself.
“I also want to meet with the shift supervisors and foremen after the walkabout. I want everyone to be on the same page with regard to how operations are to run.”
Martin made another note. “I’ll tell Mr. Jones as soon as we arrive.”
After that, Jason turned to look out the window, effectively ending their conversation and sending Martin back into his speculations about his mysterious employer.
Maybe Jason’s attitude toward Martin was a clue in itself. After all, if this Kale had been his secretary prior to Martin filling the post and things ended badly, some resentment toward the replacement would be understandable. Of course, Kale had to have been more than just a secretary. That was it! Kale had been Jason’s secretary, and they had started an affair. Then this Kale either left or died, leaving Jason a troubled man. It was the only explanation that made sense of everything: Jason’s drinking, his bouts of depression, and his attitude toward Martin and people in general.
It was comforting to have solved the puzzle. Martin rested his head against the carriage wall and smiled with pride. Jason, as usual, paid him no mind.
[Measure of Devotion 02.0] Measure of Strength Page 3
