His Impassioned Proposal (The Bridgethorpe Brides) (10 page)

 
“Your father would too,” Jane said softly. She read the emotions on Stephen’s face. Was he comfortable speaking of his parents? His features softened a bit, but his voice hadn’t changed, so she assumed he was healing.

Stephen cleared his throat. “Well, when do you all leave for London?”

“Mid-March,” the ladies replied in unison, before breaking out in laughter. Hannah continued. “Can you not tell how excited we are?”

“And you, Jane? Do you share her excitement?” Stephen’s gaze locked on hers.

“I have mixed feelings. I am determined this will be my last Season.”

David placed his hand over her gloved one on his sleeve and squeezed. “Does that decision please you? Or will you miss the assemblies and strolls through Hyde Park?”

“And the ices at Gunter’s,” Hannah added. “Mmmmm.”

“I admit it, I do enjoy the dancing. And the ices. But a part of me shall be quite content to become some man’s wife.”

“Hannah, what sort of man would please you as a husband?” Stephen asked.

“Why, he must be as handsome as my brothers, as kind as my father—”

With a burst of unexpected laughter, Stephen said, “I can see this will be a long quest!”

David groaned. “As long as I am not expected to be a party in the search, she may take as long as she wishes.”

Jane wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “It is colder than I had hoped. I believe we should all return to the parlor. I will ring for a fresh pot of tea to warm us.”

While they removed their coats and gloves, David asked Stephen, “When do you go to Sowerby?”

“Tomorrow. Mrs. Loughty is packing for me as we speak.”

Jane paused in untying her bonnet. “What takes you to Sowerby?”

“I will call on my mother’s brother and visit the mills we own.”

She handed her bonnet to the footman and hoped no one else noticed her hand shake. “Mills? Is this a recent investment?”

“As I understand it, my father invested in them about four years ago. He’s done quite well with them.”

“I hadn’t realized Mr. Lumley was involved in such a…well, questionable business.”

Hannah laughed and took Jane’s arm. “Jane, surely you aren’t the type of person to look down on someone whose income comes from trade.”

“Not from most businesses, no.” Jane’s throat felt tight, her stomach churning. She read the papers her father subscribed to and knew the conditions workers were expected to live and work under in the mills. “But those factories are horribly cruel. The number of hours the employees are forced to work. And the conditions, especially in cotton mills. Please tell me your mills aren’t in cotton.”

“Actually, one is, but—”

“Those are the worst. The air is unfit to breath. The children bear the brunt of it, with slowed growth and health problems. Please tell me you don’t employ children.” Jane wrung her hands together. Just when she had begun to hope Stephen might be as suitable as she’d always dreamed.

David jumped in. “Jane, what brings this on? Mrs. Lumley’s family has been in the woolen industry for many years. Why the sudden distress?”

She looked down at the polished marble floor. “I wasn’t aware of that. Indeed, why would I be?”

“My guess,” Stephen said softly, so only those present would hear and not the servants who hovered throughout the house, “is that my income and its sources have only become of interest of late.”

David’s eyebrows rose before he schooled his appearance. “I see.”

Hannah took a step toward the parlor, tugging Jane’s arm. “The source doesn’t change who Stephen is, though, does it? Let’s sit down again and have more cakes and tea.”

At that moment, her mother appeared at the parlor doors. “Jane, why do you keep your guests standing in the cold hall? Come warm yourselves, my dears.”

“A lovely suggestion.” Stephen offered his arm to Jane, his gaze daring her to refuse in front of her mother.

Jane knew better than to cause a bigger commotion than she’d begun. “How inconsiderate of me. Let us sit by the fire.” She glared back at Stephen as she accepted his escort. Let him challenge her in her mother’s presence and they would see who was the unreasonable one. Surely Mama would agree on the horrid conditions one found in mills.

Releasing Jane’s arm when they reached the grouping of chairs near the fire, Stephen turned to Lady Marwick. “Forgive me the short notice, my lady, but it occurs to me that you and Sir Perry might wish to join me in visiting Sowerby, where my father shared ownership of several fine mills. I have yet to see these mills myself, and would appreciate the observations of someone such as Sir Perry.”

Her mother blinked several times, a habit Jane knew meant she was searching for the correct response. “How kind of you to offer. I will check my husband’s schedule.”

“And perhaps Miss Marwick would care to join us. She tells me she has never seen that part of West Yorkshire.”

“That is true,” Mama said. “We’ve never had call to visit there. When do you leave?”

“I had planned my trip to begin in the morning, but that could be postponed a few days if you require more time to prepare.”

Mama caught Jane’s gaze, still looking uncertain. “I’m certain we can be ready for a short journey by morning, providing Sir Perry has no prior engagements.”

“Splendid.” Stephen smiled warmly and nodded. He turned toward the fire and raised his hands to the heat.

Jane rose from her chair. “I will ring for a fresh pot of tea.”

She needed distance to quell the panic blossoming in her. Why did Stephen wish for her parents to see these mills? He’d said he understood she would consider other gentlemen in her search for a husband. She’d known he’d likely carry an attachment for her for some time, if he had any feelings for her at all.

No, that was cruel. He had loved her as much as she had him. It had never been spoken, but one knew these things in one’s heart. Of course his feelings for her wouldn’t vanish once she’d rejected his offer.

Was he planning to renew his offer after they’d been to Sowerby and her parents had seen how successful his mills were? She couldn’t imagine her father would put her future financial stability above her need for love.

Her heart would have the final say about whom she would marry. And her heart wasn’t certain where her feelings lay.

Chapter Ten

Stephen and the Marwicks travelled in Sir Perry’s coach-and-four, as it was more comfortably fitted, and made reasonably good time over the muddy, rutted roads. Sir Perry insisted on a leisurely meal break at midday, not wishing to overtire his wife and daughter, which combined to add a full day of travel time.

Still, they arrived safely at the inn in Sowerby and after a good night’s sleep, they walked the few short blocks to meet Mr. Carr, Stephen’s uncle.

Mr. Carr rose from his desk and took Stephen’s hand in both of his, shaking it firmly. “How good it is to see you, my boy.”

“May I introduce Sir Peregrine Marwick, Lady Marwick and their daughter, Miss Marwick?”

“Ah, yes, Sir Perry. I believe we met when I was visiting my sister and her husband in ’04.”

Sir Perry nodded. “Yes, I recall. It would appear I should have taken your investment advice at the time.”

Mr. Carr motioned for his guests to sit. “There’s still time to reconsider. The machines we’ve installed have increased production satisfactorily. We’ve used some of the profits to build housing, and I have plans drawn up for a kitchen and school. Once the funding is received from our investors, we can take the steps necessary to move forward. I’m hoping to have the school in place in another five years.”

The two men spoke business for a short time and Stephen paid close attention. He knew nothing of the business, but he wasn’t the type to allow someone else to manage everything while he sat back and watched.

He kept a covert eye on Jane during the discussion. Her attention was on something outside the windows. He rose and walked toward the sunlight that somehow found its way between the closely set buildings on the narrow street. The hamlet was nestled into the hillsides, overlooking the marshy valley. It was nothing like he had imagined, he had to admit.

“Why don’t we go have a look at the workroom?” Mr. Carr suggested, calling Stephen’s attention back to the others.

“Splendid. Will you ladies join us?” Stephen asked.

“I should love to see where fabric comes from.” Lady Marwick rose and smoothed her skirts. “And you’ll come, also, won’t you Jane?”

Stephen heard that tone in Lady Marwick’s voice which reminded him of when his mother would pose an order in the form of a question, as if one had the choice of refusing but wouldn’t ever consider doing so.

“Of course.” Jane stood and tugged her gloves back onto her hands.

Offering his arm to Jane, Stephen let their elders leave the room first. His heart beat rapidly, not from her nearness, but fear of what she might think of what they were about to see. The workroom couldn’t be so horrid that she’d throw away all their years of friendship. Perhaps he could promise to improve the conditions. Increase the wages of the workers. Shorten the work days.

The noise of the workers grew louder, equaling the buzzing in his left ear. He was not young and foolish enough to think he could insist on any of those changes. Nor did he believe he could win Jane’s heart by doing so.

Stephen followed the small group, observing the steam-powered looms in use by the roomful of women. The space was quite warm, but clean, and not the hellish place he was certain Jane had imagined.

Mr. Carr took them outside, where he pointed out a large building of comparatively recent construction. “The workers and their families will be able to move into the new housing soon.”

“You mentioned a school. Am I to believe the children receive no schooling now?” Lady Marwick gazed pointedly at Jane, although Stephen wasn’t sure what her message might be.

“I insist on their having lessons. But we have no formal schoolroom. And few supplies. The vicar comes by daily and works with the children in reading and ciphering.”

“Did that come about after the labor laws?”

Mr. Carr hooked his thumbs in the arm openings of his waistcoat. “For some of the mills, it did. ‘Course, some mills ignore the laws. It’s not like the lawmakers come to see if they’re being upheld. But the Carrs felt it was their Christian duty to take care of the families that take care of us, and began to look for ways to make improvements before the reformers got involved.”

After visiting the mill, their small group returned to the inn. Stephen held Jane back, pretending to study the architecture of the shops. He paused in front of the large window of a milliner. “What do you think?”

“That hat is quite lovely, I suppose.”

“No, I meant the mill. Are you still concerned about the people who work there?”

She pulled her hand free of his arm and hugged herself. “I suppose not. The workroom didn’t appear as wretched as what I have read in the papers.”

“So there is a chance you might not feel my income is tainted?”

She flushed and looked away. “I never said that. And there are still the children. Why must they be forced to work?”

“It is the way of the world, Jane. How else will their families survive?”

“Perhaps the wages of their parents should be raised so they might afford a living. Children shouldn’t be made to work. They should be allowed to play, grow and learn.”

Her argument warmed him, which caught him by surprise. “Ah, dearest Jane. If only I had the power to make the world as you wish it. But if King George himself hasn’t the means, what hope do I have?”

“You don’t have to save them all, but couldn’t you save those in your mills?”

Offering his elbow again, he steered her toward the inn. “One cannot revolutionize the industry overnight. But you do see how my uncle and my family have attempted some improvements, don’t you?”

“I suppose.” She walked slowly beside him, a change from her vivacious self.

“Does it concern you that much? Enough to make you choose another man over me?”

Jane stopped. “There are many things I must consider in choosing a husband.”

Lifting her chin, he forced her to meet his gaze. “When did this decision become so complicated? Was I gone too long? Did our friendship fade over the years?”

Her eyes glistened and he longed to pull her to him, but they were on the street where anyone might pass by.

“Oh, Stephen. I cannot lie. My feelings changed the night you came home.”

Now it was his turn to hang his head. “Because I offered for you when I was bosky.”

“No. Well, that was part of it. But there is more. I wish we were at home where we might have some privacy.”

He searched the street but saw nowhere they could escape without causing her parents to seek them out. “Walk with me.”

They passed the inn where her parents had entered and continued down the road toward the edge of the town. Stephen slowed to a stroll. “Can you tell me now?”

Jane took her handkerchief from her reticule and patted her eyes. “I wish I never had to say it. I’ve never told anyone but Mama.”

“I see this is serious. You know you can count on my discretion.”

“Yes, I know. But I also know how much what I say will hurt you. But it’s too late to avoid that.” She drew in a shaky breath. “My mother’s sister married a man she loved passionately. She had known him for some time before their betrothal, my mother tells me. But she didn’t know him well enough. You see, when he drank to excess, he became quite mean.”

Again Stephen regretted his drunkenness, or at least, not waiting until he was in the privacy of his own bedchamber to drown himself as he had. “I understand.”

“No, that is not all of it. Once, when I was little, I visited them. At night he would yell, and she would cry. I heard him hit her. I saw her bruises.”

“Jane, surely you know I’d never—”

She continued on over his protestation. “A year later their son died. He was six. My aunt wrote that he’d fallen from a horse, but they didn’t own horses. At nine years old, I suddenly questioned the bruises Aiden always had. They said he was a clumsy child. That he took after his mother, always getting injured. But I knew, Stephen. I knew…”