Scandal

by Heather Cullman

  "Yes, I can see how she might feel that way," Julia said, and she did. From what Gideon had told her, everyone Bliss had ever trusted to care for her had failed her in one way or another. Her anger with the child now diluted by sympathy, she murmured, "I wish there were something I could do to help her."

  "You could discuss the problem with Gideon, and persuade him to spend more time with her." Bethany suggested.

  It was all Julia could do to refrain from sniffing at the notion of Gideon allowing her to persuade him to do anything, much less listening to anything she had to say. Though she considered it highly unlikely that he would ever do either, she dutifully inquired, "Do you really think that that would help?"

  Bethany nodded. "I am sure it would. You see, Julia, it is my belief that much of Bliss's fear stems from the fact that Gideon is never here. I do not know if you are aware of the fact, but these past three weeks is the longest period of time he has spent with us since returning to England. Before this we were fortunate to see him for a day or two once every fortnight, and then he was off to tend business elsewhere, or traveling the country in search of Caleb."

  "He does have a great many responsibilities," Julia pointed out, though why she should feel compelled to come to Gideon's defense, she could not even begin to imagine.

  "Oh, I was not criticizing him," Bethany countered with a smile. "How could I when so much of what he does is to benefit Bliss and me? I was simply trying to explain matters."

  Julia smiled back. "And you are doing a splendid job of it." That said, she returned to the business at hand. "So you truly believe that Gideon's frequent absences make Bliss feel vulnerable?"

  Bethany nodded. "After all the people she has lost, she cannot bear to have those she loves out of her sight for any length of time. It is almost as if she believes that nothing bad can befall her, or them, if they are near." She paused, as if to consider the matter, then shook her head and continued. "My guess is that her naughty behavior is a bid for Gideon's attention. After all, if she drives off her governesses, throws tantrums, and is utterly impossible, he must come home and deal with the problems she has created. Once he is near, she is all that is good and agreeable. Though you may find it hard to believe, Bliss is by nature a very agreeable child. Indeed, I cannot recall her having a single tantrum before Gideon's return from India."

  "Well, she has certainly been having plenty lately, violent ones, and having Gideon home seems to have done nothing to curb them," Julia commented, heaving a frustrated sigh.

  "My guess is that she is terrified."

  "Terrified? Of what?"

  "You, of course."

  "Of me?" Julia pointed to herself, completely caught off guard. "Why ever would she be terrified of me?"

  "Because you are Gideon's wife. And as his wife, you have it in your power to take him away from her, if you so choose. She also understands that a wife commands far more of a man's attention than his sister. I would say that she is afraid that he will abandon her for you."

  "But-but that is absurd," Julia sputtered. And it was. As Bliss, herself, had pointed out, Gideon hated her and could not bear to be near her. It was the reason he was never at home.

  Never at home? Understanding dawned then. While Bliss might have hated her for the reason Bethany suspected, had she indeed been the adored wife, the child most probably despised her for driving Gideon away. After all, when he fled from her, he fled from them all.

  "Of course it is absurd," Bethany said, her voice penetrating Julia's thoughts. "Unfortunately, Bliss cannot see that, nor is she likely to do so unless Gideon shows her that her fears are unfounded."

  "Have you told your brother any of this?" Julia asked. If she had not, she must convince her to do so. After all, Gideon loved Bethany, which meant that she would have a far better chance of persuading him to the plan than she could hope to have.

  "Yes. I talked to him shortly after your arrival, but"- she sighed and shook her head-"it seems to have done no good. He is still almost always gone from the manor."

  And of course it was all Julia's fault. Indeed, there was not a doubt in her mind that he would have heeded his sister's plea if he could have been assured of avoiding Julia's company while doing so. As it was, be seemed to think that what Julia had to offer Bliss was more important to her well-being than the measure of security his presence would give her, and had thus chosen to absent himself from both their lives. What he did not realize was that Bliss would not accept what Julia was trying to give her until he gave his sister what she needed from him.

  "Since you are his wife, I thought that he might be more inclined to listen to you," Bethany was saying.

  "I am not sure that my efforts would meet with any better success than yours," Julia said, her stomach knotting at the mere thought of trying to talk to Gideon. Not only would he not listen, but her attempt could easily result in an ugly scene. And she hated scenes of any kind.

  "All I ask is that you try," Bethany persisted. "Do say you will try, Julia." She pressed her palms together in a gesture of desperate pleading, her face eager and her eyes beseeching.

  "Well," Julia murmured, her mind spinning as she tried to decide what to do. She would like to help Bliss, very much, but could she? Was it even possible to make Gideon listen to her? She had tried so many times to talk to him, to explain what had happened on their wedding night and make him understand her side of the episode. But it had been to no avail. He had refused to hear her out.

  "Please?" Bethany entreated.

  Julia sighed. Something she had not tried yet was an apology. She considered the idea for a moment, then decided that it had merit. Perhaps if she apologized and confessed the truth, rather than trying to rationalize and excuse her actions, she might disarm him enough that he would listen. Once she had his ear, she could address the problem with Bliss. Surely he would not refuse to hear what she had to say on behalf of his sister? Who knew? If she were able to break through the icy wall between them, they might be able to someday come to terms and find a measure of peace together.

  "Say yes, Julia," Bethany urged.

  Julia sighed again. It was worth a try. "Yes," she finally conceded. "I will try, but I cannot promise that doing so will achieve anything."

  "Of course it will-I am certain of it!" Bethany exclaimed, her cheeks flushing a glorious shade of pink in her happiness.

  Julia smiled back. She had promised to love the Harwood sisters as much as she did her own. Now was her chance to prove that she did.

  Chapter 16

  "Well done, Gideon!" Christian commended, guiding his bay gelding left at the fork in the road they traveled on their ride home from the village meeting. "Judging from the outcome of the assembly tonight, it seems that you were correct in that your tenants needed only to discuss their differences to see how silly their bickering has been."

  Gideon smiled and nodded, well pleased with his evening's work. "Yes, once I showed them that they have been working at cross-purposes, matters progressed far better than I could have hoped. So much so, that I feel safe in predicting that from hereafter life in Low Brindle will be decidedly more peaceful than it has been in many a year."

  "If the rampant goodwill displayed tonight is any indicator of the village's future climate, I would venture to say that we run the risk of becoming dreadfully dull in our harmony," Christian returned with a chuckle.

  Gideon made a wry face. "I, for one, will take harmonious dullness over the stimulation of strife any day of the week. Indeed, at this point in time, I can think of nothing more gratifying than to have a market day pass without being called into the village to marshal a dispute."

  "Well, I daresay that you will get your wish, now that you have acquainted your tenants with the benefits to be had in working together." Christian shook his head, again chuckling. "There is nothing like the lure of prosperity to make men put aside their petty squabbles and pull together."

  The squabbles to which Christian referred were the product of a fierce p
rice competition that had cropped up among Gideon's tenants, in which each of the weavers attempted to monopolize the traveling cloth merchants' business by underselling his neighbors, more often than not at a sacrifice to himself. Exactly who had started the nefarious practice and why were fodder for frequent and violent debate. Whatever the truth, the resulting enmity was regularly played out in the marketplace, with insults and accusations of inferior goods invariably sparking bouts of fisticuffs that sometimes escalated into a village brawl.

  Needless to say, the feud succeeded only in driving away any merchant who ventured to the village in search of goods. For in spite of the fact that Low Brindle cloth was of good quality and could be had at a ludicrously low price, few men wished to risk life and limb to obtain it. Of course, each weaver blamed the others for their dwindling trade, which merely exacerbated matters. Thus, what had once been a thriving textile community had soon degenerated into a financially embarrassed battleground. And by the time Gideon had purchased the estate, the cottagers were struggling to meet their rents and the village had ceased to flourish.

  Gideon, who had discerned the potential lying dormant beneath Low Brindle's pall of conflict, had spent several weeks analyzing the situation before finally devising a plan calculated to tempt the weavers into a truce and revitalize the stagnating village. Tonight had merely been the first step in that direction. By the time his plan reached fruition, Low Brindle would be a reckoning force in the cloth industry.

  "So, what do you intend to do with all the goodwill you created tonight?" Christian inquired conversationally, shattering the companionable silence into which they had lapsed.

  Gideon waited until a rapidly approaching dray wagon rattled past before responding, "My immediate goal is to form a village cloth guild, which all the weavers will be welcome to join. From what I have observed, guilds promote a strong sense of common purpose among their members."

  "And that sense cannot help but further foster the unity you created tonight," Christian deduced with a nod.

  Gideon nodded back. "Yes. And I intend to continue fostering it by showing them the power to be had in their combined number."

  "Indeed?" Christian's voice reflected genuine interest.

  Gideon nodded again, more than willing to introduce his brainchild. "My first order of business will be to suggest that the members pool their funds and purchase cotton in bulk. Not only will doing so allow them to buy it at a cheaper price, but it will also enable them to procure a much better grade than is currently available to them."

  "Are you saying that as individuals, your weavers are restricted to buying certain grades of cotton?"

  "It would seem so. After sending inquiries to several cotton brokers in Liverpool, I have discovered that the finest grades are available for sale only to those willing to buy in sizeable lots."

  "But how will the per-bale cost of those finer cottons compare to that the weavers are presently using? Will it not be much more expensive?" Christian asked.

  Gideon shook his head. "If we purchase several lots at once and are clever in our negotiations, the cost per weaver will be less than what they are now paying for an inferior grade. Furthermore, the finer cotton will allow for the production of the delicate muslins and calicos that are all the rage in London. And there is a much greater profit to be made from fancy goods than from the plain fustian most of my tenants are now producing."

  Christian seemed to consider the idea for a moment, then said, "I believe that the weavers are currently selling their goods unfinished. Do you plan to advise the guild to continue the practice, or are you of a mind to employ finishers so as to keep the entire production confined to the village?" Finished as opposed to unfinished goods was cloth that had been bleached, dyed, printed, and/or whatever other treatment was required to make the newly woven fabric suitable for its designated purpose. It was a process that was commonly undertaken by cloth merchants, thus allowing them to create the colors and print patterns that best suited their particular markets.

  Gideon grinned at Christian's response. It appeared that he was not the only one who had been studying the textile trade of late. Pleased to have someone with whom he could discuss the subject, he replied, "I would like to finish the cloth here, so as to allow us to sell directly to London shops and exporters. That, of course, will require an army of finishers and a properly outfitted factory."

  "Hmmm. I daresay it will," Christian said. "Have you selected a location for a factory?"

  "I had thought to convert the old mill. Not only is its size and floor plan suitable for the purpose, but the old waterwheels will provide power for the printing machine I intend to acquire."

  "Yes, and the ready access to the stream will also prove invaluable should you or your weavers someday decide to invest in a steam-engine-powered loom," Christian pointed out thoughtfully.

  "That too," Gideon replied.

  "I daresay that you will eventually be required to purchase a London warehouse and showroom-and you will need salesmen who are familiar with the fancy trade." It was clear from the unbridled enthusiasm in Christian's voice that he was now fully warmed to their subject.

  "I already own several London properties that would be appropriate for both purposes. As for salesmen"-Gideon shrugged one shoulder-"I am certain that Lord Shepley can direct me to an agency that will give me recommendations."

  "Speaking of lords and such, will you not need someone in London to observe the ton? Your weavers cannot hope to supply society's cloth demands unless they are informed of each new rage the instant it takes hold. They must-" Christian broke off, chuckling. "But how mutton-headed of me! As a ton member, your wife can most certainly help you there."

  It was all Gideon could do to refrain from snorting at that notion. Julia, help him? A mere commoner? Ha! His light mood darkening at the mere mention of his haughty, treacherous wife, he tersely replied, "I do not think that we can count on help from that quarter. Julia is far too preoccupied with her own affairs to take an interest in mine."

  Though Christian's expression was lost in the shadow of his broad hat brim, it was clear from his abrupt head motion that he shot Gideon a sharp glance, as if startled by his response. At length, he murmured, "How very odd. She struck me as most interested in all of your affairs when I made her acquaintance this afternoon. Indeed, I cannot recall meeting a wife so involved with her husband and his family; nor have I ever had the pleasure of being presented to a more gracious lady. I must confess that I quite like your lovely Julia."

  Bristling at his friend's blind admiration of the woman he judged worthy only of contempt, Gideon almost pointed out that Christian could not recall much of anything at all and was thus unqualified to judge any woman's merit. Squelching the ugly impulse in the next instant, he instead responded, "Yes? Well, I suppose that that should come as no surprise. Julia is a master in the art of appearances."

  Again, Christian cast him a quick look. This time, however, his head tipped to an angle, allowing the light from the full moon to wash over his face in a way that clearly illuminated his features. He was frowning, as if deeply troubled. "I say, Gideon. A master of appearances is hardly the glowing picture one expects a happy groom to paint of his new bride. I do hope that you and Julia have not quarreled so very soon after your wedding?"

  Gideon uttered a silent profanity, cursing himself for allowing his animosity toward Julia to show. For all that she deserved his scorn, she was still his wife and it was his duty to see to it that the rest of the world viewed her with respect. Thus reminded of his obligation, he carefully clarified, "My remark was not meant as a slur, but as a simple statement of fact. Julia is indeed well schooled in the art of appearances, as she is in every art the ton dictates a woman must master in order to be worthy of the title 'lady.' Since her expertise in such matters is one of the reasons I wed her, I daresay that my remark can be viewed as a recommendation to her credit."

  They had reached the crossroad at the edge of the manor grounds now, whe
re they usually parted company since Christian was required to go left to the dowager cottage, and Gideon to continue straight ahead to the manor. Both reined their mounts to a halt. Christian's docile gelding came to an immediate standstill while Abhaya restlessly danced and snorted beneath Gideon's restraint, his nostrils flaring at the scent of something he detected on the soft night breeze.

  "While your recommendation of your wife's accomplishments speaks of a certain admiration for her person, I notice that you have yet to mention love," Christian observed, leaning forward in his saddle to reward his horse's obedience with a pat on the neck. "As you no doubt know, Bethany is of the opinion that you and Julia fell in love at first sight, and that you wed in haste because your passion for each other was such that it would not allow you to wait. But I-"

  "But you do not believe it," Gideon interjected softly.

  Christian shook his head. "No. It is hardly in your nature to be so impetuous about anything, much less something that is bound to have such a profound effect on the rest of your life."

  "Well, you know what they say about love," Gideon replied flippantly, trying to decide whether or not to confide in Christian. For all that they were friends, the best of friends, in truth, he was hesitant to divulge to anyone the extent of the trouble in his marriage.

  "A great many people say a great many things about love, most of them quite foolish," Christian retorted. "But are we really talking about love in this instance? You can tell me that it is none of my affair if you wish-hell, you can tell me to go to the devil and I shan't blame you a whit if you do, but I feel I must ask: do you love Julia?"

  For a moment Gideon was tempted to take Christian at his word and tell him that it was indeed none of his affair.

  Then he remembered all that they had been through together in India, and all the private, painful confidences that Christian had shared with him about his enslavement. Sighing, he admitted, "No. I do not love her." He owed his friend at least that much of the truth.