To Dream Again (21 page)

It would have been so easy. Mara paused on the corner and bought a Cornish pasty from the coster. Preoccupied with her thoughts, she didn't even grumble at the high price. Gloves on, she nibbled the meat pie as she walked down Whitechapel High Street, heading back toward Elliot's. Her thoughts returned again to that night on the roof a week before.

Yes, it would have been easy to lean back against Nathaniel, easy and tempting. Even the memory of it brought a blush to her cheeks. He had done nothing improper, but she had wanted him to. She had wanted him to hold her. She had wanted to lean back against him, feel his strength. She wanted to rely on him, trust him, and that was the most frightening thing of all.

Mara could not recall a time in her life when she'd had that luxury. She'd never had another person to depend upon. It seemed to be her role in life that others should depend upon her. She had never minded that before, preferring to be in control of things. But that night had been different. That night, she'd imagined for a brief moment that she could give him what he kept asking for. Her trust. Just imagining it had brought an incredible rush of relief. She wasn't alone anymore. She had a partner. For the first time, she was beginning to see the advantages in that, but it still frightened her.

Mara popped the last bite of her lunch into her mouth, brushed the crumbs from her gloves, and turned down her street. Her meeting with Halston Tin had gone well. When she had researched suppliers, their bid had been the lowest, lower even than Chesterfield's, and this morning they had promised her that they'd be able to supply all the tin she and Nathaniel required. They had assured her that thirty-day credit terms were not a problem, and the deal had been made.

As she opened the front door of the factory, she realized she didn't hear the roar of operating machinery. She entered the production floor and saw Michael up on a table, surrounded by men. Glancing up, she noticed the women leaning against the rail, looking down on the scene and listening to Michael talk. She could see Nathaniel's tall form quite close to the table.

Mara came to a halt at the edge of the crowd. Michael was telling the employees their plans to build trains and explaining some of the assembly-line changes they had discussed the week before.

He finished his explanations, thanked everyone, declared the meeting over, and jumped down from the table. She watched as Nathaniel clapped him on the back with a pleased nod, before they were engulfed by the men around them. Suddenly, a roar of laughter ran through the crowd, and Mara saw Nathaniel being lifted by several of the men.

Michael tried to stop them, but to no avail. The men clearly wanted their new boss to speak. She could see Nathaniel struggling in protest, but the men refused to let him go, and he was forced up onto the table. He rose to his feet and said something under his breath. She couldn't catch what it was, but those standing closest to him erupted again into laughter.

She moved through the crowd, drawing closer. She watched as Nathaniel looked around him, and she listened as the room grew silent. He drew a deep breath and raked a hand through his unruly hair. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and glanced around with an almost desperate air.

Mara came to an abrupt halt several feet away, staring up at him, sensing the apprehension emanating from him. He'd said he didn't like giving speeches, but this was more than dislike. This was fear. She could hardly believe it, and yet, there was no mistaking his sudden panic. It was as if all his brash confidence had chosen this moment to desert him. He looked suddenly and completely vulnerable.

"I...umm...really didn't want t...to do this," he said, stumbling over his words as if they were the most difficult ones he'd ever had to say. He cleared his throat, and glanced around again. She had the feeling that if he were not surrounded by men, he'd jump down from the table and flee like a startled animal.

I'll always back you up in front of others. That's what partnership is all about
.

Mara didn't know what had caused this sudden panic in him, and she didn't care. She had no idea what she could do, but she had to do something. She pushed her way through the crowd of men, edging around them until she was directly in Nathaniel's line of vision.

"As M...Michael's already told you, we're making a g...great many ch...changes around here," Nathaniel

went on, struggling valiantly, but she could tell he was sinking deeper into the mire of his own words. She lifted her hand, waving until she caught his attention. She met his eyes, and the misery in their depths twisted her heart. She lifted her hands, pointing to her own eyes with her fingers, and she mouthed the words, "Look at me, Nathaniel. Speak to
me
."

She nodded encouragingly, keeping his attention focused on her, hoping he understood. For a few breathless seconds, they looked at each other, and then she saw him give her a slow nod in return. He focused his gaze on her as if she were a lifeline, took another deep breath, and began to speak.

"I...umm...I told Michael that he sh...sh...should tell you what we're d...doing. I d...didn't plan to give a damn speech."

There was a fresh outburst of laughter. She smiled and gave him another nod of encouragement as he waited for the laughter to subside.

"I suppose the first thing we should d...discuss is what I'm doing here," he continued. "M...many of you knew James Elliot, but what most of you don't know is that I knew him, too."

He spoke slowly, enunciating every word with care, still looking at her. "James and I decided to form a partnership making toys. I c...came to London so that together we could turn Elliot's into a toy company."

Murmurs of surprise rippled through the crowd at this news, but Mara didn't take her eyes off Nathaniel. She held her breath, watching him watch her, listening as he went on, "James is dead, God rest his soul, but the dream of what he and I set out to do is still very much alive. Mrs. Elliot inherited this company from her husband, and she and I have formed a new partnership. As M...Michael's already explained, we will be changing Elliot's manufacturing to toys during the coming months. We shall start with toy trains, and gradually build from there, until we're also making boats and tops and games and all sorts of other things."

His words came faster now, and he wasn't stumbling over them, but he still kept his gaze fixed on Mara as if she were the only person in the room. "If we're to do this, we shall need the help of each and every one of you. Mrs. Elliot and I will be demanding all your cooperation and a lot of hard work, and some pretty long hours as we draw closer to Christmas. Now, if I were in your shoes, I'd be asking myself what's in it for me."

The crowd stirred a bit at those words, almost guiltily, as if that's exactly what they'd been thinking. Nathaniel took a deep, steadying breath. "You people know your own jobs better than anyone else does," he said. "If you see ways we can do things better, I want you to speak up. If you have a problem or a complaint, tell us about it, and tell us how you think we can solve it. You won't lose your job or be reprimanded. In fact, I'll pay you for it."

More murmurs ran through the crowd. Nathaniel waited for them to subside. "If you bring me an idea that will save us money, I'll pay you a pound. I wish I could tell you I'm doing this out of the goodness of my generous heart, but I'd be lying. I'm not that generous."

The confession was made with a rueful smile that seemed natural and easy, but Mara knew it was not. She took her eyes from him long enough for a quick glance around and was relieved to discover the faces in the crowd smiling back at him.

"I'm willing to do this for one simple reason," Nathaniel continued. "Your ideas can save us money. Your ideas will mean more money for the company and will help us to be successful, so it's only fair that those ideas also mean more money in your pockets."

Murmurs of approval greeted that statement, and Nathaniel seemed aware of it, for he tore his gaze from hers and lifted his head to look at the crowd for the first time.

"Michael is now your supervisor, but you can also bring your suggestions to me or to Mrs. Elliot. There's a great deal of work ahead, and it won’t be easy. But we can do it, if we all work together."

He jumped down from the table, and a round of cheers went up. He walked toward Mara, receiving approving slaps on the back from the men as he shouldered his way through the crowd. When he reached her, he grasped her hands in his before she could think of anything to say. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," she answered and smiled at him. "Partners, remember?"

He didn't smile back. He just looked down at her, and there was gratitude in his eyes, gratitude and promises and something more. "I stuttered when I was a boy."

Her hands tightened around his. "I know."

"I won't fail you."

"I know that, too."

His smile came then, slowly, and a strange sensation began in her midsection, a tremble of breathless excitement and anticipation, as if she had just jumped off a cliff. And just this once, for just this moment, she wished she could fly without thinking about what would happen when she hit the ground.

***

Nathaniel studied the pieces of machinery spread out before him on the worktable, forcing himself to concentrate on his latest idea. He was still trying to design a steam train that didn't leave trails of water all over the floor, but his thoughts kept straying from that task.

In his mind, he kept reliving the events of the preceding afternoon. He kept seeing the sea of faces, the rough workmen looking up at him, waiting for him to say something. He kept feeling the knot of sickening fear twist in his guts. He kept hearing his own stuttering words.

One face had been clear amid the blur. A face with the raven brows and mournful eyes of Shakespeare's sonnets. Bow-shaped lips forming the whispered words that had saved him. If Mara hadn't been there, he'd have jumped down from that table and run. Just like the frightened little boy of twenty years ago.

They were truly partners now. She had seen him foundering and had come to his aid, and he would never be able to tell her how much that meant to him.

She could have simply allowed him to drown in his own stuttering words. But she hadn't. She could have thwarted his plans, the plans she'd fought so hard against. But she hadn't.

Perhaps she was beginning to believe in what they were doing. There had been trust in the hands that had tightened around his. He knew how difficult it was for Mara to trust anyone. And she was trusting him with the only thing she had. Elliot's. He would not fail her.

A sound on the stairs caused Nathaniel to lift his head. Over the partition separating his laboratory from the office, he saw her walk through the door with a tray of tea and scones in her hands. The kitten followed her like a shadow.

Her gaze lifted to his as she walked toward him. "Good morning," she said with a smile. "This is a change. You're here early."

"So are you."

"I always come in early." She set the tray on the table. "I'm working on a proposal for us to take to the bank."

Her tacit agreement to seek a loan from the bank surprised Nathaniel. He watched as she clasped her hands behind her back. The schoolgirl gesture made him want to smile. She always did that when she was nervous or embarrassed.

"I...umm...assumed they'd want to know how we intend to spend the money. And I thought it would be prudent for us to present them with a proposed budget."

"Very prudent," he answered gravely.

"It will also give us an estimate of how much money we'll need to borrow. I want that done, but there's no time during the day, so I've been coming in a bit earlier than usual."

He left the laboratory, moving through the makeshift doorway into the office. He watched Mara sit down at the table, and he came up behind her to push in her chair. As he moved around to the opposite chair, he saw the kitten dive beneath the table, and he paused, bending down to take a look. He could see the kitten batting at the hem of Mara's skirt. "I believe our little alley cat has actually become a pet," he said as he straightened and took the chair across the table from her. "Have you named him yet?"

"I decided your suggestion was a good one," she admitted. "I've named him Algernon. But he isn't a pet, he's a nuisance."

Nathaniel leaned back in his chair. "A nuisance, is he?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes, he's always underfoot. He still won't let me pet him though."

"He will. He has to learn to trust you first." He paused and met her eyes. "It's odd how they're like people that way, isn't it?"

He could see that she didn't miss the reference to herself, but she didn't reply. She began to pour tea.

"Tea and scones again?" he asked, watching her.

"When I looked out my window this morning, I saw the lights on, and I knew you were up here. I thought it would be a nice idea."