Love Engineered (6 page)

She had interesting conversation though, and certainly knew more than most women and men. He didn't object to that. He disliked stupid women. No, he was sure his examination of her was more than just functional. He could admire a woman just for being a woman, like most men did.

Ashton was one of those men who was obviously dazzled by her wealth, and had been most adamant that they should entertain and flatter this woman so that they received an invitation to her Engineers’ Dinner.

He was interrupted from these reflections by Ashton murmuring in his ear, “I wonder if your sister's new friend would be interested in our more recent investment opportunities?”

Charles's eyes narrowed. “I'll leave all the investments to you, unless you want to start designing bridges.”

“No fear! But you cannot blame me for asking.”

“Good. But I doubt if she would be interested, despite her interest in engineering, I get the impression she wouldn't want to risk her money on such things. She's certainly never spoken about such things to me tonight, has she you?”

“No. We've only had the one conversation anyway, and I certainly wouldn't raise such an issue after the first few meetings, and to a lady. Whatever her elevated station in life.”

Charles stepped away from Ashton. His partner's continual and unabated pursuit of funding made him weary at times. He knew his partner’s work was equally important as his own; without the money he wouldn't be able to do any work. But he hated it when Ashton brought it so obviously into his own home.

. . .

When Louise arrived home, she was sorry that the evening ended even though she was exhausted. The journey home in the carriage only took twenty minutes, but she didn't allow herself the opportunity to think over all that was said, preferring to wait until she was safely inside her bedroom. It was unfortunate that Robert Adams was mentioned, but luckily it had only been for a short time and he hadn't been mentioned again. As her maid helped her undress, she reflected on the events of the night, the closeness of the family, the interdependency they often exhibited in small gestures to one another and the ease with which they talked made her suddenly aware of being alone. Although it never worried her much these days because she had come accustomed to it, tonight for the first time she wanted to be part of a family such as that. To have a brother, a sister, a mother. She closed her eyes as she sat at her dressing table, and for the first time she could remember, she imagined herself married. Yes, she wanted to be part of a family such as the Lucases, but it wasn't simply the family that drew her in – it was him. Charles Lucas. To be his wife, to share his family, to end the loneliness, was all she could think of. To be loved by him would be wonderful.

The next day, Louise tried not to dwell on the feelings that surfaced the previous night and kept her awake for many hours. She wasn't often one to linger over such things and learnt a long time ago to suppress many of those wishes and desires she may have. It was her duty as mistress – the sole responsibility of her estate as the prominent reason for her self-inflicted self-denial. But still . . . however she tried to suppress her growing feelings, a part of her couldn't help but indulge in those sentiments.

She dressed wearily, tired due to lack of sleep. She snapped at her maid, but later after breakfast apologised to her. It wasn't Sophie's fault that she was fighting her feelings. She dreaded turning into one of those matriarchal women who treated her servants no better than slaves.

She had felt attraction to men before, but the spark of admiration had been there from the moment she saw him. Almost before she met him. The expectation of meeting the man she had heard so much about had been immense. She admired his work as an engineer, but the man himself proved to be every bit as attractive as the work he did.

For the first time she felt stupid; his intellect frightened her. But she tried not to shy away from his brilliance. It was endearing, and coupled with his caring attitude to his family, there was very little not to admire.

She was due to see Jane again that morning, but excused herself with a note, and pleaded a headache. Her mind was too clouded, and seeing the sister would only serve as a reminder of the brother.

A note written in a clear neat hand was returned within an hour of it having been sent:

Dear Louise,

I hope your ailment is temporary and that you will soon be better. I will go to the drapers this morning anyway and tell you when I next see you if the pink silk we talked of is as pretty as Miss Hunter said.

Yours etc.

Jane Lucas

After the morning alone, her state of mind was no better. She now regretted having cancelled her arrangements with Jane and decided to walk out for a while. She began to wonder what her late father would have said about it all. Would he approve of such a man as Mr Lucas?

There was no doubt he would understand her attraction to an engineer. From an early age, her father made many friends with those in trade and the professions. He had never, like many of his peers, shunned those who earned their money through hard work and expertise. Many were visitors to Glazebrook, including some of the top engineers, and as a girl, Louise had never been kept away from their company.

The last night her father had been alive, she kept a vigil beside him, not willing to be away from him for one second before the inevitable happened. His illness had been mercifully quick, and he slipped in and out of consciousness many times. Each time he would instruct her, or sometimes he would call out his wife's name. In the early hours of his last morning he said to her:

“If you marry, make sure he won't use you ill. Be careful. I couldn't bear it if you were trapped in a marriage where your husband squandered everything we have both worked for, or treated you badly.”

“Father, I promise you I will try to do as you wish, but I'm sure I shall never marry.”

“You will my dear. You will.” His cold, frail hand patted hers. “You wait and see. It will happen, you will fall in love, whether you mean to or not. But I know you're like your mother, you could never marry for anything but love.”

An excellent father, he was never angry or fierce to her. He spoiled her a little when she was young, but with the guidance of his sensible-minded wife, they had managed to correct those character flaws early on.

For many years she was the only child, and then when she was nine, a sibling was born. She could remember it well – a cold December night. Her mother recovered well from childbirth, but another unrelated ailment struck her and she died months later. The baby, healthy at first, had caught smallpox and, although he survived, was weakened and deteriorated over the course of a year. He died in his father's arms a few months after his mother.

Louise and her father thereafter learnt to depend upon each other, and Sir Robert made sure that he passed as much knowledge on to her as he could. There was no time for frivolous learning; solid education was provided and the best tutors hired. He was never far from the classroom, and checked on her progress daily. She was a mild, receptive child, adolescence had been difficult at times; the absence of a mother meant that female companionship had to be sought through friends of her father's generation. She had been brought up almost as though she were a boy. Her indulgences had been learning those things that boys were taught: maths, history, business. But her real passion was inventions and engineering.

She did have female friends, but she found them somewhat dull. Their parents didn't like their daughters to learn the things Louise did, and consequently through design and desire, most of her childhood friends were boys.

No, she regretted nothing. Finally now, she had met Jane, a young woman closer to her own age whom she felt drawn to, despite their different natures and positions. She resolved to see Jane again the next day, and knew it was unlikely that she would see Charles Lucas much, if at all. His work must keep him away from home at those times she was most likely to visit.

The next morning, Louise called on Jane and they made their way to the drapers.

“Your headache didn't last long I trust?” Jane's eyes searched her face.

“No. By the afternoon it had cleared, thankfully.” Louise looked away, and hoped her countenance didn't betray her.

“I hope it wasn't caused by dining with us the night before.”

“No, of course not!”

Jane lowered her head. “I thought I had offended you.”

Louise stopped walking and took hold of her hand. “No! How could you ever offend anyone?”

They continued on, and arriving at the drapers, they entered to find it almost empty. Louise had never visited this particular shop before, it being not in the most fashionable part of town. But the assistant could clearly tell quality customers when he saw them and treated them with the utmost distinction and attention. They were shown an array of fabrics but both women admired the new pink silk imported from India a few days earlier.

“The colour suits you much better than me.” Louise held the soft material up to Jane's face. They both turned to the small mirror on the counter.

“I do like it,” Jane said. “But your dark hair matches it well too. I'm sure there are several shades of yellow and blue that I would love to wear but make me look washed out and sickly.”

Louise smiled back at Jane's reflection. “If we all looked the same, it would be very boring.”

They made their way home to the Lucas house to have afternoon tea and were interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Edward and Charles. Louise was secretly pleased and tried not to blush as they paid their respects to her.

“I thought you were busy today?” Jane asked them both in a petulant tone.

“We have a number of business matters to attend to here,” Charles said. “We can't stay for long.”

Edward interrupted, “But not so pressing that we can't stay for some tea.”

It was Edward who commandeered Louise's attention at first, whilst Charles went to his study, returning after fifteen minutes with a bundle of papers and, Louise noticed ink stains on his hand.

“Miss Thomas has been telling me about her estate in Devon,” Edward said to his brother. “It seems she has to return there very soon due to estate matters.”

“Indeed,” Charles said. “What sort of business matters do you have to deal with?”

She gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “All sorts of things. Many of the tenants request my help in overseeing repairs and helping them deal with problems, such as floods or the disposal of diseased animals. Sometimes they need advice on farming methods, and several of them are trying new ways of improving their yields. The estate has a large amount of farming machinery that the tenants borrow. It's quite interesting, although I think you would probably think it somewhat primitive compared with the projects you undertake.”

She assessed his response to what she told him. He seemed interested enough, so she continued. “Unfortunately, on the odd occasion I have to intervene when they have disputes.”

“Really? Disputes?” He sat down near her. “What was the last dispute you had to deal with?” It was a serious question, yet she noticed he wore a small smile. She tried to ignore how much she liked him sitting so near.

“Well,” she said seriously. “The latest dispute was immediately before I came to London a week or so ago. It was between two farmers. They are brothers and they both purchased six rare breed cows; each paid half of the amount to buy the animals. One of the brothers cared for the animals whilst the other refused to help. Eventually after much protest and threats, the first brother sold the animals because he grew tired of caring for them alone. The second brother, upon hearing of the sale, demanded half of the money. But he wouldn't pay him.”

“And what happened?” asked Jane, who by now was listening intently to their conversation.

“The first brother said he'd never pay him half of the money because he didn't deserve it after all of the work he put into the animals. The animals were sold for much more than the brothers had originally paid. Eventually, a few weeks later, they asked me to resolve the issue.”

“How exactly?” Charles asked.

“I spoke to both of them on their own, and heard their cases. Then, after thought and prayer for guidance and wisdom, I gave them my opinion.”

“Which was?”

“That the first should pay the second a third of the money he got for the sale of the cows.”

“A wise decision,” Jane commented.

“A fair judgment,” Edward agreed.

Charles said nothing for a few seconds, his eyes full of amusement. “It must be nice for you to get away from such petty matters when you're in London,” he said eventually. She had hoped he would express his opinion of her judgment. But he was frustratingly silent on that matter.

“I do not find them petty.” She shook her head and spoke in an earnest tone. “They are very important events in my tenants' lives. The two farmers I spoke of have little land, they are elderly and the cows they bought were a huge investment for them. No, I wouldn't call that petty.”

He stared at her for a few moments. “Perhaps you are right. I wouldn't wish to upset you, as a guest in my house or a friend of Jane's.”

He took a sip of his tea and stood up as though to go and sit with Jane, but Louise stopped him, saying, “Mr Lucas, do you not have disputes amongst your workers? You must have had some?”

“Yes. And I see what you're going to argue. You're about to compare my work to yours, and tell me that we're just the same, that we must deal with similar issues.”

“But surely we both have the authority to resolve such things, and I would never dare say that any aspect of ship building, or bridge construction, or anything else is petty. The whole item cannot be built without extreme care to the details. In the same way, farming cannot be run without care to each detail, however petty it seems or however small the herd.” She spoke the last words in a soft, gentle tone. If it were anyone else but him she would have put them in their place. But there was something alluring about arguing with him. She bore him no malice for having spoken what he thought. In fact, she would say anything, have any conversation with Charles Lucas, famous engineer, whatever the subject matter. But most of all she knew that he couldn't have any idea of the complexities of running an estate as large as Glazebrook, any more than she knew how to build a bridge across the Tamar.