To Dream Again (30 page)

Mara and Nathaniel met with Michael the next morning after tea. Quotas were assigned. Michael agreed to place their first order for parts, hire the additional staff, and arrange for a company insignia and sign. Nathaniel would continue receiving orders for trains, while it would be Mara's job to oversee finances.

Nathaniel and Mara promised Michael a final decision on which train accessories to put in production. Percy said he'd have Nathaniel's things moved out of the warehouse and put in storage immediately. Then the meeting was adjourned.

Billy Styles came to visit that afternoon. Nathaniel took him around the factory and showed him all the equipment, stressing what was safe and what was not. At the same time, he kept his promise to Mara, and checked all the machinery again, but everything was in perfect working order.

Nathaniel showed Billy their office, and Mara watched, glad that he explained the fire escape to the child. He then showed Billy the train, and Mara went back to work. But she paused often, lifting her head to watch as Billy asked Nathaniel question after question.

"Bloody smashin'!" the boy pronounced as the train came to a stop. Nathaniel then took Billy into the other room to show him the laboratory, and Mara watched them go, feeling both gratified and relieved.

Although she didn't approve of the language he used, his positive endorsement of the toy reassured her. If Billy's opinion was any indication, the trains were sure to do very well indeed.

"What's that?" Billy's voice floated to her over the top of the partition as he asked his favorite question, and Mara smiled, again lifting her head from her work to listen.

"These are the parts of a steam engine just like the ones downstairs, only smaller," Nathaniel's voice answered. "You see? Here's the cylinder and the piston."

"What are ye goin' to do with 'em?"

"Put them together."

"Can I 'elp?"

"You can be my assistant. See this little wheel here? That's called a gear. If you'll hold it in place, I can fasten the screw."

"Like that?"

"Just like that."

Mara couldn't resist taking a peek. She crossed the room and stepped around the partition to watch. Nathaniel had placed a stool in front of his worktable and Billy was standing on it. Their backs to her, man and boy worked side by side, and she was able to enjoy the sight unobserved.

She listened as Nathaniel continued to give instructions. His "assistant" complied with eagerness, and Mara knew a situation of clear and obvious hero worship was developing right before her eyes.

But it wasn't just Billy who responded to Nathaniel that way. Everyone at Elliot's felt the same. Perhaps it was because people could sense that Nathaniel truly believed in their abilities, or perhaps it was the compliments that seemed to come from his lips so easily. And yet, it was more than that. There was some indefinable quality of leadership about him that inspired people, gave them hope and confidence, made them work harder than they had ever worked before, just to receive a smile from him and a word of praise.

Mara studied Nathaniel's back, her gaze following the Y-shape of his braces along the contours of his body, from his wide shoulders to his narrow waist, and she thought again of the night he had taught her to dance, when he'd led her blindfolded through the steps of the waltz, when he had forced her to rely on him for guidance, made her relinquish control and put her trust in him. She closed her eyes and savored again the feel of his hands at her neck, the warmth of his mouth on hers. The shock and wonder of a kiss that left her breathless. The magical intimacy of a smile that filled her with the ache of longing. He had left her wanting to risk all she had for one more kiss, one more smile.

"Now what?"

Billy's voice intruded on her reverie. Mara opened her eyes and came to her senses, realizing she'd been standing here daydreaming like a schoolgirl. Intent on their task, neither Nathaniel nor his pint-sized assistant had noticed her presence, and for that, Mara was grateful.

"Now we have to put the engine inside a train," Nathaniel explained. "When we light the wick, it makes the water boil and the steam from the water makes the train go."

"Show me, please," Billy pleaded. "I 'elped make it. I want to see it go."

Mara stepped forward, pushing aside memories of a waltz and a kiss. They turned their heads at the sound of her footsteps. "Not tonight, Billy," she said. "It's late."

"But I want to see the train go around."

Nathaniel put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Mrs. Elliot's right. It'll be dark soon. We'd best take you home."

Billy's face showed his disappointment, but he didn't argue. He jumped down from the stool. "Can I come back tomorrow?"

Nathaniel shot Mara an inquiring glance, clearly asking her to make the decision.

She thought it over. She knew Nathaniel had checked all the equipment and had assured her that Billy understood what was safe. She still had misgivings, but she looked down into Billy's hopeful eyes, and she couldn't say no. "All right," she agreed, but added firmly, "after school."

"Can't I come in the mornin'? I don't go to school."

Mara frowned with concern, meeting Nathaniel's eyes over the boy's head. "Why not? Haven't you ever gone to school?" she asked Billy.

"I used to go, when me mum was around. She made me. But I don't go no more, since she died. So I can come in the mornin', can't I?"

"Billy, you should be in school," she said gently. "You can come here afterward."

Billy's chin jutted out stubbornly. "I don't like school, an' me dad says I don't need it anyway."

"But—" Mara started to protest, but she caught sight of Nathaniel shaking his head at her, silently asking her not to argue with the boy, and she complied.

Nathaniel hunkered down to Billy's eye level and smoothed back the tousled red hair that fell over his eyes. "Mrs. Elliot and I have to work in the morning. If we don't accomplish our work, we won't be able to make any trains. So, you have to come in the afternoon."

"I want to 'elp. Can't I make trains, too?"

"Of course you can, but there's all sorts of other stuff we have to do that you can't help with until we show you how. So you come in the afternoon, and I'll show you some of the things you can do to help, all right?"

"All right."

He ruffled the boy's hair. "C'mon, Scrapper. Let's take you home."

He grabbed the boy around the waist and slung him over one shoulder. Billy laughed and wrapped his fingers around the back strap of Nathaniel's braces to hang on. He looked up, grinning at Mara as Nathaniel carried him out of the laboratory.

She followed, smiling as she watched them head for the door.

"'Night, ma'am," Billy called, releasing his grip on Nathaniel's braces with one hand to wave at her as he was carried out of the room. "See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Billy."

She watched them go. Billy's wariness the day of their first meeting was gone, and Mara marveled at the change one afternoon with Nathaniel had made in the boy's life. It was a miraculous thing indeed.

But then, Nathaniel had a way about him, a way of making miracles happen. She thought again of the night they had waltzed, the kiss they had shared. Oh, yes. He had a very special way about him.

***

Adrian knew Joslyn Brothers had granted Nathaniel his loan the previous afternoon. Owen Rutherford had given him the news only a few hours before. He settled back in his seat, the music of the opera below scarcely penetrating his thoughts.

He could have prevented the loan, of course, but he had chosen to wait, preferring to allow his little brother to fall deeply into debt, knowing that would be the most effective way to destroy him in the end. He knew that if he had prevented the loan, Nathaniel would simply have gone to another bank.

Nothing Nathaniel had done thus far surprised him. He did find it interesting, however, that Nathaniel had borrowed seven thousand pounds when the proposal he'd seen on the young woman's desk had requested three.

He stared down at the stage below with unseeing eyes. He found Mara Elliot much more interesting than Carmen at the moment.

Their conversation had been brief, but he had learned a great deal about her nonetheless. The proposal on her desk told him she was conservative, which meant she wasn't necessarily willing to go along with Nathaniel's reckless schemes. She was shrewd, an appalling quality in a woman, but then, Adrian wasn't interested in bedding her. Her shrewdness might be a problem.

She wasn't beautiful, but there was a haunting quality about her that probably appealed to Nathaniel's misplaced sense of the romantic. She blushed at compliments, which meant she wasn't used to receiving them and indicated that she wasn't as cold as she liked to appear. If Nathaniel cared about the woman at all, she might be useful.

Carmen's lover was dying. Adrian glanced down at the scene below, then to the woman beside him. Honoria was totally engrossed in the opera, unaware that he was not. He observed the tear that glistened on one of her pudgy cheeks, and he rolled his eyes. Americans were so ridiculously sentimental, Honoria especially so. He returned his attention to more important matters.

His first suspicion had been correct. Nathaniel was planning to build toy trains again. It had been bad enough when Nathaniel had dared to declare himself a rival from thousands of miles away, and he had easily taken care of that. But now Nathaniel had the gall to try it here in England, right under his nose. His brother had even hired back that Jewish engineer to help him. Adrian intended to destroy those plans before they reached fruition.

He began to consider possibilities. This time, there was another factor that might provide him with an additional advantage. Mara Elliot. She just might prove to be Nathaniel's most vulnerable point.

There was also the loan. He nodded to himself, satisfied. There were many ways to smash Nathaniel's ambitions, and by the time he was done, his little brother wouldn't have a brass farthing. He'd go running off once again with his tail between his legs. Defeating him would be so easy.

Adrian knew the first step was to change banks. Tomorrow, he would have all his accounts transferred to Joslyn Brothers. Then he would find out who Nathaniel's suppliers were and what credit terms they offered. With a little luck and a little money in the right hands, those terms would be changed.

***

"We'll spread ourselves too thin." Mara looked up from the notes she was scribbling and glared across the table at her partner as a crack of thunder sounded outside.

Nathaniel shook his head. "We have to have some accessories available for sale immediately, or what's the point?"

"Some, yes, but seventeen different items is a bit excessive, don't you think?" She studied his set expression and sighed. "All right, all right, we'll keep the two bridges, but we don't need to offer three stations!"

"Done," he agreed promptly. "We'll offer two. But I want all four types of passenger car."

Mara groaned and set down her pencil. They had been at this for over three hours. The numbers were running together, and all the ideas he was tossing out at her, one after another, were making her dizzy. She rested her forehead on one hand and began to rub the tense muscles in her neck with the other, listening as the heavy rain began to drum against the roof.

"Headache?"

She nodded. "Yes, and it's your fault," she grumbled. "You gave it to me."

He pushed back his chair. "Then it's up to me to rid you of it," he said and moved to stand behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders.

She stiffened, and all her muscles tensed even more. "What are you doing?"

"Relax," he ordered and brushed his thumbs across the muscles beneath her neck.

She could feel the warmth of his touch through the white linen of her shirtwaist, and she realized he actually intended to massage her neck.

She leaned forward and shrugged her shoulders in discouragement, hoping he would move away. "No, really, this isn't necessary," she protested, feeling a hot blush creep up her cheeks at the familiar feel of his touch and memories of two nights before.

He paid no attention, of course. "Why do you always have to argue with me?" he asked, the tips of his fingers caressing her collarbone, sliding the linen back and forth across her skin.

She wriggled uncomfortably in her chair, wishing she could escape. But she was trapped by the table in front of her, the arms of her chair, and the man behind her. "I don't always argue with you."

"Yes, you do. All the time."

"I do not."

"Stop fidgeting," he ordered, unperturbed by her struggles. His hands tightened on her shoulders, and his thumbs suddenly pressed hard into the muscles below the nape of her neck.

An excruciating pain shot through her, and she cried out. "That hurts!"

"I'm not surprised." His thumbs pressed even harder, moving in slow circles. "You're a bundle of knots. It's no wonder your head aches."

Mara gritted her teeth against the pain, but after a few minutes, the tenseness in her muscles eased, the pain dissolved, and a warm, pleasurable sensation began to take its place. Her eyes fluttered shut as she listened to the soothing sound of the rain on the roof and enjoyed the comforting feel of Nathaniel's fingers massaging her neck. A groan escaped her.

"Feeling better?"

Mara nodded and made a tiny affirmative sound, so relaxed by the magic touch of his fingers she couldn't speak.

He slid one hand around her neck, and before she realized what he intended, he untied the ribbon at her throat and unfastened the top button of her shirtwaist. Dazed, she felt his hand slide beneath her collar and around to span the back of her neck, caressing gently, bare skin to bare skin.

She felt another shot of pain as he began to massage the tiny muscles on either side of her neck, but she was more relaxed now, and it didn't seem so bad. In fact, it began to feel quite nice. She let out her breath on a contented sigh.

Nathaniel heard the sound, somewhere past the pounding of his heart and the roar in his ears and the desire clogging his senses. This had not been one of his best ideas, and he cursed his own impulsiveness. He could see only two inches of ivory skin, tinged with pink, between the dark upsweep of her hair and the white linen of her collar, but he could feel all the softness of it beneath his fingers. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand back, away from the heat of her skin to the safer territory of her shoulders.