Satisfied with his plan, he thrust the Merchants’ Magazine aside and applied himself to his breakfast with renewed vigour.
~~~~~
Sera arrived at the manufactory as usual, to find the girls all waiting in their places expectantly. They all smiled when she walked in, and she felt oddly at home.
They were wondering, she knew, what they were to make now, with Saint Valentine’s Day gone. Truth to tell, she wasn’t entirely sure yet – heart shaped favours would always sell, albeit not in the quantities that they sold at Saint Valentine’s Day, but they needed more new ideas to sustain the business, and the girls’ employment, through the year.
Sera looked at their expectant and trusting faces, and felt both a deep sense of satisfaction at the impact that she had been able to have on their lives, and a somewhat frightening level of responsibility. Looking at them, she had a sudden idea.
“Good morning everyone. I am quite certain that you are all anxious to know what you are going to be making next.” They nodded, shifting in their seats a little. “First, we will be making more heart shaped favours, for love is never out of fashion, although the nobility may pretend it is.” The girls laughed. “But after that… I have not yet decided. I want your advice – I want to know what sort of favours you would enjoy receiving, when, and why. And I want you to all help me think of every possible occasion on which a wealthy man might give a woman a token.”
The girls looked at each other, rather startled – for a Lady to ask their advice was totally unexpected.
“A brilliant approach, Lady Serafine – I am sure that all of the young women in this room have dreamed, at one point or another, of receiving beautiful tokens of love from handsome young men.”
Raphael’s voice was warm and amused, but she knew that he meant what he said – there was no mockery in it. The sound of his voice heated her blood, as if he’d touched her, and the memory of that kiss rose unbidden to her mind. He bowed to the room, and said good morning to the girls. Sera pushed the sensations he raised in her aside, and concentrated on the matter at hand.
One of the girls spoke up, hesitant at first. “Well, my Lady, it’s a way off for now, but there’s always things given at Christmas. We could maybe make little cards for the wealthy to put on the charity boxes they give, as well as hearts for men to give their sweethearts.”
“A wonderful idea!” Sera sat at a table and made a note of it. “What else might work?”
Soon all of the girls were chattering away, wondering what sort of favours might be made for other holiday times, or significant seasons of the year. Sera made a list of those, wondering how favours might be woven into the traditions of things like Easter, Lady Day, May Day, Harvest Festival and more. She was certain that it would be possible. Then the girls, feeling braver at having their suggestions respected, talked about what they, personally, would appreciate. It was an interesting contrast between those who wanted pretty frivolities, because they never had such things in their lives, and those who wanted things that were pretty, but had some practical purpose.
Of those, the best idea was favours which had, as part of their decoration, a small pin or brooch, which could then be detached and worn by the recipient. Sera was very certain that such a product would sell. So involved had she become, that she had almost forgotten Raphael’s presence, until he spoke again, restarting all of those delightful sensations and memories.
“I have another idea. One which I think we can take advantage of immediately.”
Everyone turned to watch him. Raphael settled himself negligently, half seated on the corner of the table, next to Sera’s notebook. She felt a flush rise into her cheeks at his proximity. He seemed so calm – had he decided to pretend that their kiss had never happened? Doubt assailed her, but she focused on what he was saying.
“This morning my sister received some flowers.” There was some good-natured muttering amongst the girls. “I cannot say that I particularly like the young man who sent them, and I gathered, from Isabella’s expression, that the note in the card attached was perhaps not the most eloquent ever written,” the girls laughed a little, no doubt each imagining what it might have said, “but my sister was still pleased to have received them, and took the little card to put with her other keepsakes.”
Sera began to see where he might be going with this idea.
“And your idea relates to that card?”
“Yes. For, when I saw it, I realised that every single bouquet of flowers sent to a Lady of the ton has a card attached. And during the Season, literally thousands of bouquets are sent. Purveyors of hothouse flowers make fortunes as a result of the Season.”
“I see – I must admit that, when I was in a position to receive such tributes, I just accepted them, read the card and thought no more of it. But those cards must come from somewhere.”
“Exactly, and, from what I have seen, those cards are mostly rather plain and boring. What if we made them something more? We could make them a beautiful thing to collect in their own right. We could approach the flower merchants and design a unique range for each of them, so that their clients were all guaranteed to be giving something exclusive. And the gentlemen who buy the flowers would be sending the ladies not just the flowers, which last but a short time and fade away, but a card which was a decorated favour that the lady would keep, keeping the gentleman closer to her thoughts as a result.”
“That is remarkably clever. Already, I have ideas for designs, and ways to make sets of designs which would all show the mark of the flower merchant subtly, yet which would each be different.”
Sera’s pencil flew across the page of her notebook as she captured her ideas. Raphael smiled at her enthusiasm.
“The Season is not far off – the early activities will start in a few weeks, and things will become really busy after Easter. So, we had best begin now. What say you, my Lady, can you adapt some of your existing heart shaped designs to a smaller size, as our first flower cards, whilst you develop the new designs?”
“Of course, that will be easy – we can start making the first ones today.”
“Then I will be away to investigate which flower merchants we should approach first.”
Raphael bowed again to the excited girls, and to Sera, his eyes warm on her, yet somehow hesitant, and hurried out. Sera smiled to herself. He was a man who needed purpose, needed action, or he became bored. She was glad that he had arrived at such a wonderful, and easily implemented, idea for the next stage of their business together.
But she still had no sense of what the next stage would be in their personal relationship.
~~~~~
Raphael was glad to escape the manufactory, glad to have a task in hand and a purpose to his day. The moment that he had walked in the door and seen her, the morning light filtering through the dusty windows and sparking deep red highlights in her hair, which had, as always, escaped its pins and fallen in tendrils around her face, he had ached for her touch.
The hour or so that they had spent, discussing possible products with the girls, had been exquisite torture – with Sera so close that her unique scent of rose and sandalwood surrounded him. He had struggled to focus on the discussion, had found his mind wandering, again and again, back to that kiss they had shared, his body remembering the feel of hers against him. She had seemed so calm, perhaps she did not see it as so important as he did? Uncertainty filled him. The old doubts returned. She was a Lady born – why would she lower herself to take up with a man of the merchant classes, however wealthy? Yet perhaps he was a fool, making problems where there were none. He wouldn’t know until he spoke to her alone.
He set about researching flower merchants with a kind of grim determination – whatever happened between Sera and him, he would do everything in his power to make their business an even greater success.
That evening, at the end of the day, he made sure to return to the manufactory before the time when Alf would drive her home. He had never lacked courage, but pu
shing aside his doubts at that moment was one of the hardest things he had ever done.
She was just locking up as he arrived, the girls all gone home, and the young men who guarded the place overnight not yet there. Alf was in the stable, readying the horses and the small town-carriage. She turned from locking the door, and saw him.
She stopped, and for a moment her eyes were alight. She made as if to move towards him, but stopped herself. He wondered why, disappointed. Still, he was here to be brave. As she had been brave, on Saint Valentine’s Day eve, when she had given him a heart of lace, not knowing, truly, how he would react.
“Lady Serafine, Sera…” alarmingly, his voice was uneven. He cleared his throat and continued, disconcerted under the unwavering view of her golden toned eyes. “Tomorrow – would you care to accompany me for a drive?”
Sera contained her shock. He was asking her out! She felt giddy for a moment, full of hope, then the reality of her status in the world came crashing in. Her answer was cautious – she did not want him to suffer by being seen out and about with a woman like her, whose family was disgraced by scandal.
“I… would like that. But please, not Hyde Park, or anywhere fashionable. I could not bear to face the ton, and their condemnation, or to bring it upon you, by association.”
“Then perhaps – past the docks, where you can see my ships? Would that interest you? For I am quite certain that the ton are unlikely to be seen there.”
Sera laughed at the tone of his voice, suddenly more at ease.
“Yes, I would like to see your ships, and to see where all of the exotic things in your warehouses arrive.”
“Then I will collect you from here in the early afternoon.”
He bowed with an elegant, and intentionally overdone flourish, and she laughed again, responding with an equally exaggerated curtsey.
At that moment, Alf brought the carriage out, leading the horses. Raphael offered Sera his arm.
“May I escort you to your carriage, my Lady?”
She placed her hand on his arm, feeling the strength hidden by the perfectly tailored coat, and resisted the temptation to slide her fingers back and forth, just for the joy of touching him.
Raphael saw her seated in the carriage, and bowed again.
“Until tomorrow, my Lady.”
He stepped back, closing the door, and Alf urged the horses into motion. Raphael stood and watched them go. He felt foolishly light-hearted, almost giddy – she had agreed. It was a beginning. He had no idea how they would go on.
He realised, with a start, that he had never before done something that could be described as courting – and definitely not of a Lady of the upper classes. All of his previous associations with women had been rather… basic… in nature, as was common for soldiers in the field, and since returning, he’d not made any attachments (except this one… the thought rose – for he was, he had to admit, definitely ‘attached’ to Lady Serafine.).
Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he turned to walk back to his house.
Mrs Sophia Morton watched as her daughter climbed carefully onto the seat of the carriage beside Mr Porter Arbuthnot. It was a phaeton of an older style, with a narrow jump seat at the rear, just big enough for a tiger, a footman, or, in this case, Isabella’s maid Liza, who looked none too sure about the whole thing, but clung on grimly, doing her duty by her mistress.
At least it wasn’t one of those high perch phaetons which had become all the rage with the Corinthians of the ton – this one was somewhat lower to the ground and rather more stable, for which she was grateful. She still couldn’t find it in herself to like Porter Arbuthnot – it wasn’t just their strained relationship with his family over mercantile matters – there was simply something about him that set her nerves on edge. But he had, to date, always behaved appropriately, and Bella seemed to be entertained by his company, so she pushed her dislike aside.
This was their third outing in as many weeks – but she still wondered if he was serious in his intentions.
Sophia went back into the house as they drove off, wishing that Isabella had found some other young man to catch her interest.
~~~~~
Bella loved the feel of the sun on her skin, even though she knew that a proper young lady would be concerned for her complexion and, although the weather was still unseasonably cold, and the breeze was almost biting, it was good to get out and see the city from a different perspective. Porter was usually fairly good company, although he seemed often a bit surly of late, and he was happy to drive her through Hyde Park and along Rotten Row.
Whilst they were beneath the notice of the aristocracy who flocked there to see and be seen, Bella enjoyed watching them all – seeing the fashions, and the beautiful horses they rode (although, secretly, she was certain that Raphael’s Firefox was a better horse than all of them). This day, Porter was being cheerful at her, in a manner which she recognised as his attempt to be suave and charming.
“Why do you watch them so, Miss Morton? You are more beautiful than any of them.”
“Why Mr Arbuthnot, I believe you exaggerate. For, of a certainty, there are many women more beautiful than I, especially amongst the wealthy and titled who promenade here.”
“Perhaps I am biased, but I only state what seems the truth to me.”
Bella laughed, pleased with the compliments, even though she knew them untrue. Really, he seemed to think her a silly goose, to be totally swayed by flowers and pretty words, when, if truth be told, she was, perhaps, using him for her own ends, simply for companionship and a chance to get out. She had decided, after due consideration, that as a potential husband, he simply would not do. He had not the quality of conversation, the quality of manner, nor the respect for her intelligence that she required in any serious candidate.
“Do tell me about your week, Miss Morton, what exciting things have been happening?”
They swung into the Park past the imposing gates, perhaps a little faster than ideal, causing Liza to emit a startled squeak as the vehicle swayed, then settled to a more sedate pace amongst the other carriages and riders.
“Why Mr Arbuthnot, I wouldn’t exactly call my week exciting! Although… It is good to see the new things that arrive on the ships, and the new designs for the favours that are to be made. There are many new ones planned for throughout the year, but the first will be a new innovation. And again, it is through your actions that this has been inspired.”
Porter had been working hard not to grind his teeth when she mentioned many new designs planned for throughout the year, but her last words struck him almost like a blow. His hands twitched on the reins too hard and the horses jibbed before settling back to their pace.
“Inspired by my actions?”
“Yes. Do you remember those rather pretty flowers you sent me?”
Porter nodded. He remembered – they had been alarmingly expensive flowers, but they seemed to have done their job – she was here, and telling him the things he needed to know, after all.
“And what do the flowers have to do with your brother’s newest business product?”
“Oh, it was so obvious once we thought of it. Flowers have little cards on them, with messages from the sender.” Bella blushed a little, remembering the rather extravagant words that Porter had written on the card. “Well, we’re going to make prettier cards in special designs. I’ve seen the first of them, they’re quite lovely, I’m sure they’ll do well.”
This really would not do! All his efforts to undermine them, and his actions kept giving them ideas for successful products! There had to be a way to outdo them – but how? At least he now knew what product they were going to release next. Porter realised with a start that Isabella was still talking, prattling on about the Season, and girls getting flowers, and Balls and dresses and other inane girlish fluff. He forced himself to unlock his jaw, to smile and nod, and to be as charming as he could. Searching for something to say, he fell back on the weather.
“With this sp
ring so unseasonably cold, perhaps there won’t be as many flowers available as usual.”
Bella looked at him curiously, when he delivered this odd insertion to the conversation, then shrugged.
“I am sure that the places where they grow the hothouse flowers have heating that will manage, although I daresay their coal bills will be higher this year, and the price of the flowers will rise to cover it.”
From a merchant family, she was well acquainted with the basic realities of bringing a product to market. It surprised her that Porter had not thought it through. Perhaps he wasn’t as intelligent as he had seemed?
The day clouded over and, finding Porter’s conversation sadly lacking, Bella decided that home was more appealing.
“I’d like to go home now, thank you, Mr Arbuthnot. I find that, without the sun, I am rather chilled.”
“As you wish, Miss Morton.”
He did not sound at all put out, and Bella wondered, yet again, what he really thought of her. If he was truly interested, why did he seem so gruff and standoffish sometimes? Not that she cared all that much – she was enjoying his company less and less.
~~~~~
Once the new designs had been settled on, Sera had set the girls to making both normal heart shaped favours for general occasions, and the new cards for flowers. They had made a range of samples, and Raphael had set out to discuss their virtues with each of the most successful flower merchants. Orders had begun to roll in.
As the pace of production ramped up to fill those orders, Raphael and Sera still found time to carefully explore their feelings for each other. It was a strange sensation, to be courted by this man, who she knew so well in some ways, and not at all in others. Yet those excursions were a world apart from the day-to-day of the business.
That first carriage ride to see the docks had enthralled her – the ships seemed so huge, the quantity of goods being loaded and unloaded enormous, their variety beyond her expectations. He had shown her where the warehouses were, that housed the exotic results of his trading, and promised, for the future, a tour of one of the ships. He had seemed truly surprised that she was interested.
Winning the Merchant Earl: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 8) Page 2
