Flights of Fancy

by Jen Turano

  “I haven’t taken in any orphans, Nigel,” Ian said shortly. “My aunt has. A commendable act of compassion, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Or yet more proof that you and yours are far too sympathetic to the very people who seem to think they deserve better compensation at the risk of digging into our profits.”

  Ian’s jaw clenched. “Whatever sympathies I may hold for the laborer have never affected my negotiation abilities, nor do I expect them to today.”

  “Then I suggest you get to negotiating, MacKenzie, because from what I understand, those laborers are close to going on strike. Do know that I, along with many others, will hold you personally responsible if that does indeed come to pass.”

  Rising from the chair, Nigel headed out of the tavern.

  “Such a pleasant man,” Victor said as Ian returned to his steak, realizing that it was almost time for his meeting and yet he’d barely made it halfway through his meal.

  Finishing a short time later, Ian paid the bill, leaving a large tip for Miss Norma, who’d stopped by the table once again to give him and Victor brown bags with large slices of pie in them.

  “You make sure to come back sooner this time,” Miss Norma said after Ian kissed her cheek, leaving her pink and smiling back at him.

  “I promise. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the union men. We’re in the midst of negotiating contracts.”

  Miss Norma’s smile faded. “You remember where you came from, my boy, when you’re in that meeting. Remember that you could very well have been one of those workers if God didn’t have grander plans for you, plans aided by your aunt and uncle.”

  Wondering if he’d soon be unable to breathe, what with the way his collar kept feeling tighter and tighter, Ian kissed Miss Norma’s cheek again, electing not to make any promises he might not be able to keep.

  Even though he’d always been driven, determined to amass a fortune that would never see him hungry again, he realized that there’d been a price required to achieve his current level of success—that price being setting aside what he knew to be right in order to obtain the success his business associates expected of him.

  Making his way out of the tavern, he shook Victor’s hand, pausing when Victor gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

  “You’ll do fine, Ian, and I expect you to fill me in on all the details soon.” He tilted his head. “Are you planning on traveling back to Glory Manor after your meeting?”

  “I’m afraid not. I have another matter to take care of for John Collingwood. He’s having difficulty with some transportation issues surrounding a shipment of ore. Something to do with the railroads trying to increase their fares. After I look into that situation, I have more meetings with other union men from the steel mills, and then after that, if nothing catastrophic develops, I’ll return to Glory Manor, hopefully within the week.”

  Wishing him good luck, Victor walked away as Ian turned and strode in the opposite direction.

  He soon found himself walking with men making their way toward the many factories that were located next to the river, soot and smog swirling around them as they walked.

  They were rough men, built like bulls from the manual labor they performed. But even though they were rough, and most of them uneducated, they were men he could relate to, and men he enjoyed speaking with whenever he had an opportunity to do so.

  Exchanging nods with a few of the men, Ian felt a trace of remorse run over him at the thought that he was off to negotiate contracts that would see money taken out of the pockets of possibly every man who walked near him.

  Men exactly like the ones surrounding him had always looked out for him after his father forced him to work in the mills as a child. And yet, after he’d risen far higher than he ever imagined he would within the iron and steel industries, instead of looking after these men as they’d looked after him, he was championing the industrialists—the wealthy few who earned vast sums of money—himself included in that list these days.

  After taking a moment to ask if anyone knew a Mr. Roy Duffy, which no one did, Ian watched the men walk toward a shift that was fraught with stifling heat and dangerous conditions. As he watched them, he couldn’t help but wonder if Nigel had the right measure of him after all.

  He was sympathetic toward the laborers, knowing what it took for them to return to the mills day after day where they faced long hours of backbreaking work and understanding exactly why they were considering going on strike—even if it meant they’d have no income until the strike was resolved.

  They were being asked once again to accept a decrease in their wage, while still being required to do the same amount of work. They were also undoubtedly aware that the investors and owners were still adding to their coffers, even with reduced orders for iron and steel.

  It was a business where supply and demand often saw profitability suffer, but because industry was alive and well in the country, profits were always reestablished at some point. That was exactly why he felt compromise was in order, but there was no telling whether the union men would agree to the compromises he was about to propose, or if the investors and owners of the mills would agree to those compromises if Ian was successful in his deliberations.

  He couldn’t help but wonder whether Aunt Birdie and her questions regarding whether he was truly following God’s purpose for his life held more merit than he’d considered. And if so . . . what was he supposed to do next?

  Reminding himself that he wasn’t representing the laborers at the meeting that was about to take place, but rather the investors and owners who’d entrusted him to see after their best interests, no matter the methods those interests might force Ian to take, he squared his shoulders, hoping he’d be able to end the day without losing a bit of his soul in the process.

  Chapter 19

  Taking the reins in a practiced hand, even though Clyde, the workhorse pulling the wagon, didn’t seem to need much guidance as he plodded down the dirt road, Isadora glanced over her shoulder.

  The sight that met her gaze had her lips curling into a smile. Three mutinous little faces were staring back at her, those faces remarkably dirt-free and rather pink from the scrubbing they’d recently experienced.

  “Isn’t this a lovely day for a drive?” she asked, earning an immediate nod from Daisy, who was sitting directly beside her. That nod was accompanied by a grin as the little girl scooted closer to Isadora on the wagon bench, pressing her tiny body against Isadora’s side and melting Isadora’s heart in the process.

  Out of the four children, Daisy had been the easiest to get into the bath. She’d put up a fuss at first, screaming so loudly Isadora was certain her hearing would never be the same. But unwilling to admit defeat before she’d gotten even one child clean, she’d plucked a squirming Daisy straight off the floor, stripped off her frock, then plopped her into the steaming bath, getting completely soaked in the process.

  Thankfully, it had taken only a minute for Daisy to realize she wasn’t going to suffer a horrible death from being in the bath, and before three minutes had passed, the little girl had made the monumental decision that baths were fun.

  After scrubbing the child with a lemon-scented soap Aunt Birdie had provided, she’d had every hope the three older children, after seeing how much fun Daisy had in the bath, would be more cooperative. Sadly, that had not been the case.

  Violet had cried throughout most of her bath, stating in between sobs that she could feel herself coming down with a cold. Primrose had chosen to remain mute during her time in the water, while sending Isadora glares as she’d scrubbed herself clean, and Henry, well, he’d been the most difficult of the bunch.

  Refusing to strip down in front of Isadora because he didn’t want her to see his “boy parts,” as he’d called them, he’d shut himself in the bathing room, and after a lot of splashing and loud muttering, he’d finally opened the door, revealing a clean face and hands. Upon closer inspection, though, Isadora had found his neck still filth
y, and when she peered down the back of his shirt, she’d realized that he’d not bathed at all, merely washed off the areas he thought would show.

  It had taken him three more trips into the bathing chamber, as well as the threat that she would assist him if he came out dirty again, before he’d finally taken a bath, his howls of outrage practically rattling the closed door as he went about what he’d evidently thought was torture.

  Now, over two hours later, and faced with three children who were still decidedly put out with her, Isadora felt as if she’d accomplished a feat worthy of praise. That she could finally cross off one of the items from Ian’s list also left her feeling relieved. And because she could say she’d completed the task of getting the children to bathe in a somewhat competent fashion, she was not feeling quite as useless as she had after she’d caught the biscuits on fire and allowed the goats to eat half the laundry.

  “Bird!” Daisy yelled, pointing to the sky as a red bird flew by.

  “It is a bird. A cardinal,” Isadora explained.

  Daisy tilted her head. “Card-in-al.”

  “Yes, cardinal. Very good.” Isadora smiled. “You’re a very curious little girl, Daisy, and incredibly bright as well.”

  “The ladies at the orphanage thought she was slow-witted because she doesn’t know many words.”

  Isadora turned on the seat and directed her attention to Primrose. “How do you know this?”

  Primrose shrugged. “The women at the orphanage used to say that about Daisy all the time. They also said that even though she’s young, her red hair would make it difficult to find her a permanent home, as well as for the rest of us, since we all have red hair.”

  Temper was swift. “There is nothing wrong with having red hair. One of my best friends has red hair, and she’s absolutely delightful.” Isadora drew in a breath and slowly released it. “As for those women saying that about Daisy, they were clearly mistaken. They were also horribly wrong for speaking such a thing with you anywhere near them.”

  Primrose wrinkled her nose. “Grown-ups never notice when children are around.”

  Since her own mother had rarely noticed Isadora throughout her youth, except when she’d had whatever governess had been employed at the time bring Isadora into the library at the end of the day to hear a progress report, Isadora couldn’t argue that point.

  “Even so,” she settled on saying, “it was not well done of these people to say such falsehoods about darling Daisy.” She put the reins in one hand, then reached out and patted Daisy’s arm. “Simply because Daisy doesn’t speak much doesn’t mean she’s slow-witted. My friend with the red hair, Beatrix, didn’t speak a single word until she was Daisy’s age but is now possessed of a most impressive vocabulary.” She smiled at Daisy, who was watching her with eyes as round as saucers. “You are a very smart girl, Daisy, and do not ever allow anyone to tell you differently.”

  Turning her attention back to the road, she squinted at what appeared to be a collection of buildings in the distance, a sure sign they were getting closer to the town of Canonsburg. Before she could point that out to the children, though, something Primrose had previously said distracted her. Turning around again, she frowned.

  “I thought there wasn’t room for you to stay in the orphanage, which makes it curious as to how those women were able to make such an absurd judgment about Daisy so quickly.”

  “There wasn’t room for us at the orphanage the second time,” Primrose said. “We spent a lot of months there the first time.”

  Isadora pulled the horse to a stop, turning around fully on the seat. “You were sent to the orphanage twice, and one of those times you stayed there for months?”

  “Pa tried to take care of us for as long as he could after Mama died,” Henry said, rubbing a finger over his nose. “But it got too much for him because he had to work all the time.”

  “He took us to the orphanage so that we’d all get to stay together,” Primrose added. “He had to pay money every week to make sure that happened, but then . . .” Her forehead puckered. “He ran on some hard times, and that’s when he couldn’t pay the fees no more.”

  “What happens when the orphanage doesn’t get their fees?” Isadora asked.

  “They split brothers and sisters up, send them to different orphanages that have room. They even send children out to work as indent something or other.”

  All the air seemed to get stuck in Isadora’s lungs. “Indentured servants?”

  “That’s it.” Primrose nodded. “I was lucky not to get sent away as a servant, but that’s only because one of the women who worked at the orphanage decided to try and run Pa down before they could send us away. She found him at the mill and he came lickety-split to fetch us.”

  “And were you happy to be able to go home?”

  Primrose exchanged a look with Violet and Henry before she looked back at Isadora. “We were happy to see Pa again. He’s not a bad man, no matter what anyone says about him.”

  “And would you want to go home to your father again, if that was a possibility?” Isadora asked.

  Primrose hesitated for just a second. “We want to see Pa again, but we love staying at Glory Manor. Pa’s just not real good with looking after us. That’s why we didn’t find it so awful bad to be sent off to the orphanage that first time. We got to take lessons with a real teacher and—”

  “They fed us,” Violet said softly, then pressed her lips together as if she’d said too much.

  Isadora’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t always have enough to eat when you lived with your father?”

  Primrose shook her head. “Pa tried his best, he really did. But he works all the time, and . . . he likes to drink when he says life gets too hard. We was used to him disappearing for a few days at a time. But then, a few weeks ago, he didn’t come back.” Her lip trembled ever so slightly. “He must not have remembered that the rent needed paid and that he’d left us with no money or that Mrs. Lyman wouldn’t check in on us no more once she wasn’t gettin’ paid.”

  “The man who collects the rent called the police when we told him we didn’t know where Pa was,” Henry said, his pale cheeks suddenly sporting two bright spots of color. “And then the police took us to the orphanage again, but it was full up.”

  Violet leaned forward. “But then Aunt Birdie wanted us. And we love it at Glory Manor. There’s food and animals, and Aunt Birdie said we was going to get to go to school come fall.” She smiled shyly. “I like school, and I’m hopin’ to learn how to read better this time.”

  Something uncomfortable began bubbling through Isadora. “Have you not been to school often?”

  Primrose shook her head. “After Mama died, Pa needed me and Henry to mind Violet and Daisy. There wasn’t time for schooling. But we did get some learning in the first time at the orphanage, like I said. I’m just hopin’ that the other children won’t make fun of us because we don’t know all that much.”

  The very idea that the children were fretting about being made fun of at school had Isadora squaring her shoulders. “There’s plenty of time before school starts in the fall to bring all of you up to snuff, or at least improve your reading and writing skills. And while I know that I’ve not made much of an impression with my abilities around the house, I’m more than capable of tutoring you in the basics. Perhaps the general store will have a few books we can put to good use as early as this evening after I finish my chores. Although I have to imagine Ian’s library also has some books we can use.” With that, she turned front and center, gave a flick of the reins, and they were off again.

  “So, you’re really takin’ us to shop in a store?” Henry asked, appearing directly behind her shoulder.

  “I didn’t realize that was in question. Why do you think I insisted all of you take a bath and comb your hair if we weren’t heading out to shop in a store?”

  “We thought you were just using the treat of getting some new clothes to get us into the tub,” Henry said. “Me and my sisters th
ought that you were really just gonna take us over to the church in town and see if Reverend Davis had some more clothing in the poor box he’d give us to wear.”

  “While I’m certain this Reverend Davis would be more than willing to share any clothing that might have been donated, we’re not going to the church. We’re off to purchase new clothing—as in never-worn-by-anyone-else-before clothing.”

  “They got clothing you can buy and walk out of the store with?” Primrose asked, joining her brother.

  “That’s what Aunt Birdie told me. I’m not certain how large the selection will be, though. But if we don’t find much, Aunt Birdie told me to purchase some fabric and she’ll sew some clothing for you.”

  “We’ve never had new clothes before,” Primrose said. “But that does explain why you were so determined to get us into the bath.”

  “Shopping for new clothing is meant to be an experience, one not to be undertaken lightly or . . . while dirty. However, even though I did want you to be well scrubbed for this occasion, I also promised Ian I’d do my best to get all of you to bathe, so I might have used the lure of shopping to convince you to get into the tub.”

  Primrose tilted her head. “You know you’re not supposed to tell children your tricks, don’t you?”

  Isadora’s lips curved. “I’m certain it will come as no surprise that I know next to nothing about children.”

  “You didn’t tell Ian that, did you?”

  Returning her attention to the road as the wagon crested a hill and the town of Canonsburg spread out in front of them, Isadora shrugged. “I don’t believe he was under the impression I have much experience with children.”

  “But what if he decides you’re not what he needs in a housekeeper and then decides since you don’t know much about children, he’ll need to bring in someone new to watch Daisy when the rest of us go off to school come fall?” Primrose asked.

  Knowing there was little likelihood that she’d still be at Glory Manor come fall, but not wanting to disappoint children who’d suffered far too much disappointment in their young lives, Isadora summoned up a smile. “I imagine there are far more competent women out there who’d be much better suited to looking after Daisy than me.”