"Excellent. We can begin modifying production procedures right away."
"Modifying production procedures?" Mara frowned at him. "Our system of production doesn't need modification. It works very well as it is."
"I'm sure it does," he answered, "but it won't work at all once we've made changes to the product line. When I was there, I noticed—"
"Wait!" Alarmed, Mara held up one gloved hand to halt his flow of words. "What do you mean? What changes to our product line?"
Mr. Chase lowered his feet to the floor and rose. "Let me show you."
He came around to the sofa and took her by the elbow, pulling her toward the table near the door. As she watched in bewilderment, he fastened a wire to the track of the toy train. The locomotive began to move, gathering speed as it pulled away from the miniature station.
He straightened and walked around to the other side of the table, watching the train move along the track. "See how it takes the curves? Rather marvelous, isn't it?"
Mara folded her arms beneath her breasts, uninterested in his toys. "What changes do you want to make in our product line?"
"You and I are embarking on a grand adventure, Mrs. Elliot." His eyes sparkled with the excitement of a boy as they met hers across the table. "We shall make dreams come true."
She shook her head impatiently. Did the man always have to speak in riddles? "I don't understand what you're talking about."
"Toys, Mrs. Elliot. We shall make toys."
Mara stared at him, stupefied. She looked down at the locomotive moving around the miniature track and swallowed hard as the sick feeling of dread returned to settle in her stomach like a stone. She had just signed over control of Elliot's to a madman. She groaned and pressed a gloved hand to her aching head. Elliot's was doomed.
Chapter Five
Percy looked worried. Mara studied his troubled face, and she couldn't help the tiny, secret satisfaction she felt at his lack of enthusiasm.
"Toys?" he repeated.
She nodded, and he groaned as he fell into the chair opposite her desk.
"I'm afraid so. The man wants to completely change our manufacturing to toys. Trains, mostly."
"But, Mrs. Elliot, we don't know anything about manufacturing toys."
"I know. But Mr. Chase is determined to do this."
"Does he know anything about making toys?"
She thought about the train and all the other gadgets in his flat. "I think so," she answered doubtfully.
Percy straightened in his chair, struck by a sudden realization. "Mr. Chase? He's the man who came to see Mr. Elliot. I made an appointment for you to meet with him. Remember? Yesterday, eleven o'clock."
Mara realized what Mr. Chase had been rambling on about with all his talk of important meetings. She'd been the important meeting he'd mentioned.
"Why didn't you tell me who he really was?"
Percy's question startled her out of her reverie and she gave him a blank look. "What do you mean?"
He gave his mustache another tug. "Chase Toy Company. Owned by Viscount Leyland, it is the largest toy maker in England. Surely you've heard of it."
Mara, who knew little about toys and less about titles, shook her head.
"Chase Toy Company," Percy went on. "Nathaniel Chase. They must be related somehow."
"He's related to a viscount?" Mara thought of his rumpled clothes and disheveled hair. She could hardly credit it.
"If I recall correctly," Percy went on, "the viscount had a brother who ran off to America. It must be at least ten years ago, now, but I don't remember his name. It could have been Nathaniel." He added, "Of course, I might be wrong. It might just be a coincidence."
"I don't care about his background," she said with an impatient shake of her head. "He arranged this meeting to discuss making toys, but I plan to explain to him that what he wants to do just isn't possible."
Percy glanced at the clock. "If he ever arrives. He's late."
Mara wasn't surprised. But as the minutes went by, and Mr. Chase still did not arrive, she began to wonder if something serious had delayed him. He'd probably wandered into the street and walked in front of an omnibus.
When the clock chimed nine, she stopped dictating correspondence to Percy and sent the secretary in search of him. "Find out if he sent word he would be detained," she said. "If not, he lives next door at Mrs. O'Brien's. Find him."
"Yes, ma'am."
Percy departed, and Mara went back to work.
It was only a few minutes before the door opened again and Percy entered her office with the startling pronouncement, "He's already here."
"What?" Mara rose to her feet. "Where?"
"I don't know, but I'm told he's been here for over half an hour, walking around the factory, introducing himself to the employees."
Mara tossed down her pencil. She strode out of the room, past Percy's desk, and into the corridor. "Of all the idiotic things to do," she muttered as she walked down the long corridor. "Call a meeting for eight o'clock and not even bother to let us know he's arrived."
She paused at the entrance to the production floor and scanned the room, then glanced up to the mezzanine. There was no mistaking the tall form standing by the worktables. She started up the stairs. "Keeping us waiting while he introduces himself to the employees. Presumptuous fellow. Couldn't he have waited?"
When she reached the top of the stairs, she came to a halt and glanced down the rows of tables, noticing that the women who were supposed to be assembling parts into motors were not doing so. Instead, they were watching Mr. Chase.
His tawny hair caught the sunlight coming through the windows as he leaned over the table beside Emma Logan, watching her work. He said something to her and smiled. Mara imagined there was a faint intake of feminine breath at the sight of that smile, although she couldn't actually hear any such thing over the roar of machinery below.
Immune to the devastating effects of male charm, Mara strode forward, ready to give him a piece of her mind. She was scowling.
Nathaniel wondered if Mara Elliot ever smiled. He doubted it. He watched her approach, and he noticed that as she came toward him all the women at the tables instantly resumed their work with industrious zeal. Their smiles disappeared, and their laughter faded away.
She came to a halt by the table and placed her hands on her hips. "Mr. Chase, when you demand a meeting for eight o'clock, you might at least have the courtesy to be there for it."
He smiled at her. "Good morning, Mrs. Elliot."
It didn't work. Her scowl deepened, bringing her raven brows together in a sharp line above her narrowed eyes, eyes which were as dark and turbulent as the thunderclouds of a summer storm. "It is not a good morning, sir, and I refuse to pretend that it is."
She lifted one gloved hand and grasped the pendant watch that lay against the tucks of her pristine white shirtwaist. Turning it in her hand, she checked the time. "It is now quarter past nine. Do you wish to start work, or would you prefer to fritter away the entire morning gossiping?"
Nathaniel straightened, glancing at the man by the stairs, recognizing him as the secretary he had met several days earlier. He looked at the women who had again stopped work to watch. A glance below told him the men were also watching. Most of them couldn't hear what was said, but they understood what was happening and were wondering what their new boss would do.
"Mrs. Elliot," he began, "why don't we—"
"Those who work here are expected to arrive on time, sir. Even you."
He stared into her determined, angry eyes, and knew that she was challenging his authority, trying to establish control. He couldn't really blame her. He was once in her position, and he'd done the same. Nonetheless, he couldn't allow it. He tried again. "Mrs. Elliot—"
"Your tardiness must not become a habit," she interrupted him a second time. "I must insist that you be punctual."
Nathaniel didn't like to humiliate anyone, especially a woman. He found that charm was usually more effective
than force. But she really hadn't left him any choice. If the employees saw him back down to her, he would never earn their respect. He had to make it clear in front of everyone that he was the boss. He pulled a snowy white handkerchief out of his pocket.
"Mr. Chase," she went on, "I realize that you have very little concern for time, but this is a factory. We have a schedule, we have quotas to meet."
He gave reason one last try. "Yes, I know, but—"
"I cannot permit you to set this kind of example. If I do, there will be nothing but problems. And as for your presumptuous behavior..."
He reached out with the handkerchief the moment she paused for breath, stuffing the center between her teeth and tying the ends behind her head, effectively cutting off her lecture. "You're quite right, Mrs. Elliot. It wouldn't do for us to set a bad example. It wouldn't do at all."
He smiled at her, ignoring the murderous look in her eyes. Amid the laughter that rose above the puff of steam engines, she whirled around and walked away, her hands reaching up to untie the knot of his handkerchief. She tore it from her lips and strode past Percy, then disappeared down the stairs.
Nathaniel followed her as far as the stairs and halted
before the man standing there. He held out his hand. "I'm Mrs. Elliot's new partner."
The other man continued to stare at him and said nothing.
Nathaniel glanced at the stairs leading to the next floor. "I'd like to see the rest of the factory. What's up there?"
"The first floor is used for storage. The second floor is empty."
Nathaniel looked around. "I've seen all there is to see on the ground floor." He gestured to the stairs. "Lead on."
Percy hesitated only a moment before he answered. "Of course."
The two men went up to the first floor, which consisted of one huge room. Nathaniel took a glance around, noting that there were plenty of tables and chairs. Packing crates and pieces of equipment that were no longer needed lined the walls. He continued up the stairs, and Percy followed.
The second floor was also one huge room. Columns rose to the high ceiling, supporting the flat roof, and a row of windows let in the light. A sink and faucet stood in the far corner, there was a view of the Thames in the distance, and stairs at the other end went up to the roof. He could have his office and laboratory here. He could even live here. It would be convenient, and he'd have plenty of room when the rest of his things arrived.
He faced the other man. "Is there any management staff employed here?"
There was a long pause before Percy answered. "No, sir."
"Not even a foreman?"
"No, sir."
Nathaniel sighed. "Percy, you don't have to call me sir. Who supervises production?"
"Mrs. Elliot handles that."
Before Nathaniel could ask any more questions, Percy asked one of his own. "Are you planning to turn Elliot Electrical into a toy company?"
"Yes."
"I see." Percy opened his mouth as if to ask another question, but closed it again without speaking.
"Percy, you may not believe this, but I know what I'm doing. I intend to make this company the most successful toy company in England. To do that, I need hardworking, honest people who aren't afraid to speak their minds. Whatever you want to ask me, just ask."
"Yes, sir. I was wondering—" He broke off, took a deep breath, and rushed on, "Perhaps you would tell me what you expect of me, sir."
"Well, I don't expect you to always agree with me. I'd be highly suspicious if you did. I don't expect you to say 'yes, sir,' and 'no, sir,' and, 'whatever you say, sir.' I don't expect you to work long hours just to impress me, but I expect you to do your best. Does that make it clear?"
"Yes, s—" He swallowed. "Yes, Mr. Chase."
"Laying down the law already?" a voice asked from the doorway.
Both men turned as Michael entered the room.
Nathaniel laughed. "You're late."
"I don't believe this. You lecturing me on punctuality." Michael looked around. "Not much of an office."
"Not yet." Nathaniel turned to the secretary. "Percy, this is Michael Lowenstein. I've hired him as my chief engineer. Michael, my secretary, Percy Sandborn."
Michael tugged at his cap. "Pleasure to meet you." He looked at Nathaniel. "Shall you show me around this place?"
"Not yet. We're meeting with my new partner this morning." He turned to the secretary. "Percy, downstairs a gentleman named Boggs is waiting with some of my things. Instruct him to bring them up here. Tell Mrs. Elliot that we're ready to begin our meeting. We'll have it here."
Percy nodded and left.
Michael waited until the secretary had left the room. "I witnessed your little tête-à-tête with Mrs. Elliot. Your tact and diplomacy never cease to amaze me."
"Thanks." He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "I'm afraid I'm running into some resistance from her."
"Does it matter? It's her husband you have to work with."
"Not anymore."
"What do you mean?"
Nathaniel told him about James's death and the deal he'd made with Mara.
Michael expressed surprise and sorrow at the news, and then commented, "A beautiful female partner. I should be so lucky."
"I don't feel lucky at the moment." Nathaniel frowned. "They laughed at her. I don't like to embarrass people in front of others."
"I know, but what else could you have done?"
Nathaniel thought about it. "Nothing," he admitted. "I couldn't let her call me on the carpet in front of everyone as if I were a recalcitrant schoolboy." He sighed and turned away, walking to one of the windows. "I want us to work together, but I have the feeling it will be difficult. Bad partnerships are my special gift."
He thought of all the fights he'd had with Adrian after their father's death, pointless arguments over company policy. It had been inevitable, he supposed, given that their father had made them partners. He and his father had worked side by side for a year while Adrian was finishing at Cambridge, and he'd known that they had reached an understanding of sorts, but he'd never expected to be given nearly half the company.
It hadn't mattered. Adrian had been given the controlling interest. For two years, Nathaniel had tried. He'd tried to work with his brother, he'd tried to compromise, but with Adrian, there had been no room for compromise.
For two years, he'd been forced to stand aside, helpless, watching as Adrian made shoddy products and shady deals, firing many of the talented people Nathaniel had brought into the company, including Michael. He could still remember countless nights of pacing across the floor of Mai Lin's rooms in Limehouse, pouring out his frustrations as she'd listened with all the placid decorum of her Chinese heritage, countless hours of losing himself in her arms, turning frustration into passion as she held him with all the sweet warmth a mistress could give.
But Mai Lin was gone, Adrian had won, and Nathaniel was still reaching for dreams.
He pushed his memories and regrets away. His brother was just a competitor now, and that was all. He'd asked Finch to make inquiries into all the other toy train manufacturers, including Adrian, so that he could deal with the future, but the past was dead and gone.
He turned away from the window. "So, did you tell your fiancée?"
"Yes."
"How did she take it?"
"Better than I expected. Her father was furious. My future in-laws are not happy with me just now." He sighed. "I don't know why I'm doing this."
Nathaniel grinned at him. "Because you have wisdom
beyond your years, Michael. Let's start work."
***
Mara never gave in to fits of temper. She prided herself on her ability to deal with any difficulty in cool, practical fashion. This partnership was no different from any other difficult situation, she reminded herself as she strode down the corridor to her office. She would be calm and logical, she would not give in to emotion.
She entered her office and slammed the door.
This partnership was a farce. Mara twisted his linen handkerchief around her fists, wishing he were standing in front of her now so she could wrap the piece of linen around his neck and choke that smile from his face.
The laughter of the workers still rang in her ears. It had taken four years of great effort for her to gain their tentative respect, and Mr. Chase had destroyed that respect in less than a minute. By taking him on as a partner she had saved her company, but what had that accomplished? She herself was no better off.
Buffeted about for eight years at one man's whim, suffering the consequences of one man's fancies. She'd fought so hard to distance herself from that, but now she was right back there again. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
The knock on her office door broke into Mara's thoughts. Dropping the handkerchief on the desk, she whirled around to find Percy in the doorway.
"Mrs. Elliot? Mr. Chase sent me down to tell you he's ready to begin our meeting. He's waiting for us up on the second floor."
"The second floor? Why does he want this meeting all the way up there?"
"I don't know, ma'am. But that's what he said."
Percy departed and Mara reached for the company's latest financial reports, knowing Mr. Chase would want to see them, but her hand paused over the handkerchief that lay on her desk. Now he was waiting for her, was he?
"Let him wait," she muttered, and circled her desk to sit down. She pulled out a sharp pencil and a fresh sheet of paper, then began to list all the reasons why making toys was impossible.
Thirty minutes later, she read over her list and felt more in control of the situation. Once she had presented her reasons, he would see that it was much more feasible for Elliot's to remain as it was. Mr. Chase would have to put this silly notion of toy making aside.
With a satisfied nod, she rose to her feet, tucked her pencil behind her ear, and carried the stack of reports upstairs, fully prepared to make her arguments in a calm, reasonable fashion.
But when she entered the room, all her rational arguments flew right out of her head. Mr. Chase and a dark-haired man she'd never seen before were sitting on the floor, surrounded by pieces of metal that they were putting together to form a miniature railroad track, looking like a pair of schoolboys with a set of building blocks. Percy sat close by, taking notes. Various toys lay on the floor, including Mr. Chase's train.
To Dream Again Page 6