by Rue Allyn
His gracious concession warmed her, and she smiled hopeful that even with bodyguards she could continue and perhaps increase her work. “Thank you. Will the estate replace the ruined equipment and supplies?”
James looked about the room once more. “That can be arranged within twenty-four hours. Now, let us meet with Mr. Carver.”
“I will remain here to determine if anything can be salvaged,” Hugh said. “Then I will order any necessary replacements. Shall I send the bills to your office, James?”
“By all means.”
“Perhaps the meeting with Mr. Carver should wait?” suggested Mae. “I must see to hiring workers to clean and repaint these rooms.”
James’s brow wrinkled. “Why? As the dispensary’s nominal landlord, the mill manager should arrange for that. After all, you are not responsible for the damage. He should have provided better doors and locks. I intend to speak with him on that matter specifically and mill safety in general.”
His assertive approach impressed Mae. She would do well to follow his example with the manager instead of being satisfied with imagined retribution. “Do you think he will see you? I requested a meeting with him today as we planned, but he never responded to my request.”
“That was excessively rude of him and rather dimwitted. I stand in place of his employer until the will has been completely executed. He will see us, or find himself looking for work elsewhere without a recommendation.”
Privately Mae agreed, but she felt it best not to say more to disparage the manager than she already had. His actions spoke loudly enough.
James took her arm. “Let me escort you to his office. Alvin, Tolley please remain here and assist Dr. Kerry.”
Minutes later she and James sat in the manager’s office sipping on tea and waiting for the man to answer James’s demand for explanations.
“Mr. Collins,” Carver folded his hands atop his desk, “I assure you that however admirable Miss Alden’s intentions, the mill premises are not an appropriate place for a dispensary such as she wishes to establish.”
“I beg your pardon, sir,” she objected. “The premises are the best location for my dispensary, which has already been established. There is no wishing about it. Administering aid to sick and injured workers at the earliest opportunity will allow them to recover faster and return to work more quickly.”
Carver smirked but kept his gaze squarely on James. “Miss Alden suffers from the delusion that we lack sufficient workers to keep the mill running if one or two employees are careless and injure themselves. Nothing could be further from the truth. We daily turn away a hundred or more indigents looking for work. Our employees are very careful. Were they not, they would lose their jobs.”
Mae opened her mouth to protest until James forestalled her with a glance.
“On average, how many workers are injured in a given week?” he asked of Carver.
“I have no idea.”
“Why not?”
“The foreman of each work area takes care of all problems occurring with the workers under his supervision.”
“Would you be told of any injurious incidents?”
“There would be no reason to report such things to me unless they caused a production problem. Since we have never had a problem with production during my years as manager, I can only conclude that our workers do not get injured.”
“I am certain your employees choose not to report injuries for fear of losing their jobs.” Carver was almost as bad as Grandfather with his refusal to see the needs of others. In the past, fear kept her from dealing with Grandfather. Now things were different. She was different.
James sent her a second quelling glance.
She refused to be silenced again. “I have witnessed this fear myself. A few women and children have been desperate enough to take time out of their workday to seek aid at the dispensary. Each of them insisted we not report their injuries to their foremen or say anything to anyone. That is no way to gain loyal workers. I’ve never run a business, and even I know that.”
“As Miss Alden says, she has never run a business. As a woman, she surely cannot comprehend the complexities of motivating employees to perform at the greatest rate while producing the highest quality goods with the least monetary outlay.”
Mr. Carver continued to behave as if she were not in the room, infuriating her with every word he spoke. The man was a rat. One did not hide from rats; one exterminated them.
James turned to her. “Would you mind leaving us for a moment?” She was about to refuse when he continued. “I have a few words to share with Mr. Carver that I think he would prefer to hear in private.”
The tight-lipped smile on James’s face, as much as his quiet words, persuaded her. “I’ll wait in the outer office.
“Thank you.”
Silence reigned as she gathered her skirts and left the room. However, she let the door remain slightly ajar. As a girl, she might have fled and hidden from Grandfather’s wrath, but she’d not been above eavesdropping whenever he summoned her sisters and vented his ire on them. She wanted to help once the storm was over, and to help them best she needed to know what transpired. She wasn’t about to help Mr. Carver, but neither was she willing to be left in the dark as to what was said.
“Mr. Carver, do you realize how close you are to being fired?” James’s voice held a fearsome, icy tone very much like Grandfather before his temper burst.
“Fired? But when we met the other day…”
“When you visited my office, I informed you I would see to the matter of Miss Alden’s charitable activities. Rest assured I am doing that. Whether you are satisfied with my efforts thus far or not, you have no reason to treat Miss Alden with anything other than the greatest courtesy and cooperation. Being responsible for the operation and maintenance of Alden Cloth Works, you are in the position of a landlord to her dispensary. As such, you will clean and paint those rooms today then arrange for better locks and doors. You will also ensure Miss Alden receives any and all assistance she requests or you may seek employment elsewhere. I believe I have made myself clear.”
Mae heard no response from Carver, but she did hear a chair scrape against the floorboards.
“Excellent,” continued James. “I will return within the week, at which time I will examine the manufactory books and expect a full accounting from you, your staff and each of the foremen concerning all mill activities.”
“But…”
Not caring about Carver’s objections, Mae moved away from the office door to examine a pastoral scene hanging on the wall. She did not wish to be caught eavesdropping. When she heard Carver’s door close and footsteps approach, she turned.
James wore a pleased expression, until he met her gaze and raised his brows. “Did you hear enough to satisfy you?”
“Oh. You knew I was listening.”
“My dear Mae, had you another purpose for leaving the door ajar?” He took her arm, escorting her from the room.
“Well, you can’t blame me, surely.”
“No, but I did ask you to leave for a reason.”
“What reason was that?” She shook off his hold to descend the stairs in front of him. A step in front of James Mae entered the swarm of workers and started across the mill yard to the dispensary.
“No man likes to be threatened, least of all in the presence of a woman.”
“You did threaten him very nicely. I would have been quaking in my shoes had you used that tone with me.” She sidestepped around a worker carrying a huge bale of raw cotton.
Lack of space forced James to skirt the worker on the opposite side. “Then perhaps I should use that tone with you, since you seem to be unaware of the problems you cause.”
She stopped in a narrow empty spot between workers and turned to face him. “Problems? I am not…”
Anger and something fierce contorted his face as he reached for her. “Get down.”
Alarmed, she dodged straight into him.
A dirt
clod thudded against her shoulder at the same moment his arms closed around her. He pushed her downward, bending his body over hers.
“Mind yer own business,” shouted a voice from behind her.
All she could see were the cobblestones beneath their feet and the shower of dirt and pebbles that accompanied several more thrown clods.
“Alvin, Tolley!” James yelled above her head.
“Here, sir.”
“Get us out of here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Before she could protest, she was seized around the waist and hoisted face down over one of James’s broad shoulders. She tried to raise her head to see what was happening but could only see Tolley’s backside as he threw punches at a number of men who tried to halt their progress.
How much time passed before they reached the dispensary she couldn’t say, but she was soon set on her feet and shoved into Hugh Kerry’s arms.
“What in the world?”
“Take care of her. I need to stop that fistfight before it becomes a full-fledged riot.”
“James?” Mae started after him.
Hugh’s hand on her arm held her back. “If you follow, there will be a riot.”
“But…”
“No. This time you must allow someone else to take care of you. James has Alvin and Tolley to help him. He’ll be back before you know it and everything will be under control. Now sit down and let me take a look at your cheek.”
“Cheek?” She put a hand to the spot on her face that stung more with each moment. Her fingers came away dotted with blood. She stared at it uncomprehendingly.
Hugh led her to a chair, then returned quickly with a bowl of water, rags and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
“I seem to have cut myself, but when? How?”
“Lean forward and let me clean this.”
She complied.
While he dabbed at the cut, Hugh told her what he’d seen. “I suspect you did not cut yourself. The dirt they threw at you must have contained sharp pebbles. Now hold this.”
He placed her hand over the cold square of cloth covering her abused cheek.
Hugh busied himself cleaning up the water and rags. “Fortunately the cut isn’t deep and won’t require stitches. It should heal well and not leave a mark.”
“That is fortunate. Why, do you suppose, was anyone throwing dirt and stones?”
“You can stop holding that compress now. I can guess, but I’d prefer to wait for James to return. Once he’s restored peace, he’ll know more than we can by speculation. Now sit very still while I disinfect this and get a bandage over it.”
She handed him the compress and waited as patiently as she could.
“This will sting,” Hugh warned at the same moment he touched an alcohol-soaked pad to her cut.
“Ow!” Instinctively she jerked away. “I could have used a little more warning than that.”
“Too much warning just causes worry. Soonest done, soonest mended. Concentrate on breathing and being still, and you won’t feel the sting quite so much.”
She did as he suggested and discovered he was right. Thinking about something basic and simple helped settle her nerves. She smiled. Hugh may have handed her a new technique to help her battle her fears.
As he stowed away his supplies, James, Alvin and Tolley entered the dispensary.
“Did you stop the riot?” Hugh asked.
“Yes, thank the Lord,” James muttered.
“Are any of you hurt?” Mae asked of all but kept her gaze on James.
He was grinning and covered in dust, but didn’t seem the worse for wear. “Fine. It’s been a long time since I had to settle an argument with my fists. I’d forgotten how satisfying it can be to throw a left uppercut.”
“Ye got a good right punch, too sir,” said Alvin.
“Good as any gent I ever seen.” Tolley nodded in agreement.
“Thank you, gentlemen, I appreciate your help in settling matters. Please see that Miss Alden’s carriage is brought around.”
“Yes sir.” The two men nodded and left.
Mae simmered through the entire male conversation, waiting until James looked at her. “Are you quite done admiring your mutual abilities in fisticuffs? Because I would like to know what that was all about.”
James raised his brows and glanced at Dr. Kerry. “I don’t know. Hugh, do we need to go over the events again? Perhaps a careful analysis will reveal ways in which I could improve my pugilistic science.”
Hugh smiled and nodded at Mae. “I think you’d best stop teasing, if you want any kind of peace during the drive to the manse.”
James sighed and focused on Mae. “True. The events that just occurred in the yard amount to a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?” Her gaze narrowed. “Since when are misunderstandings settled with dirt, stones and fists?”
“Since tempers run high due to poor working conditions and inaccurate perceptions as to who is responsible for those conditions.”
Mae sucked in a breath. “The workers blame me?”
James shook his head. “Not you personally, but the owners and managers. As an Alden, they believe you are an owner.”
“But I’m trying to help.”
“And the men involved in this incident understand that now.”
“Hopefully, they will tell the other workers.”
“Hopefully.” However, James did not sound as if he believed his own words.
“What can we do to prevent future incidents?”
Tolley appeared in the dispensary doorway.
“Let us discuss that, plus a few other matters at the manse. The carriage is here. I will accompany you home.”
They bid Hugh farewell, and James escorted her to the carriage. He saw her and her servants settled, arranged for Alvin and Tolley to take a hansom cab back to the manse, then joined her.
Mae wasn’t one hundred percent certain she wanted to discuss those other matters. No doubt he would attempt once more to discourage her from improving the lot of the Alden millworkers.
The coach had to traverse most of Boston, so the ride was long and somewhat uncomfortable, as they could exchange nothing but merest pleasantries before the servants. On arriving at the manse, Mae instructed her maid and footman to see that luncheon was served an hour hence. “Will you join me, James?”
“I have other commitments that prevent me from accepting your invitation. Shall we continue our talk in the study?”
“The study?” She hadn’t entered the room since her grandfather’s passing. It had never been a welcoming place, and Grandfather’s determination to punish the independence and womanhood out of his granddaughters had made the room an unpleasant retreat at best. She much preferred the back parlor, or even the excessive formality of the front parlor.
• • •
He followed her, watching the sway of her hips and her graceful movements. Whatever Carlton Alden had thought of his youngest granddaughter, James found her endlessly fascinating. Her idea to bring medical help and charity to the mill workers had been the prompting of a kind, thoughtful and generous spirit. It pained him to repress that impulse for her safety.
“I cannot understand how my small efforts can be misconstrued by anyone save for Mr. Carver, who seems to be a singularly narrow-minded man and a far from energetic manager. I have not seen him anywhere about the mill other than his office, and that is so luxurious, I must wonder if he isn’t misappropriating funds.”
Mae was as perceptive as she was generous. The excess in Carver’s office had not escaped James either, and he would have an accounting. “Sit down, please, Mae.”
“I would prefer to stand.”
“But I would not.”
“Oh.” Chastened, she took a chair near the windows.
He found a seat opposite her. “I suspect you cannot know the kind of consequences your charitable efforts are having all along the Charles River manufacturing district.”
“Then please tell me
.” Her expression was unreadable, but the tension in her shoulders and the grip of her clasped hands in her lap spoke volumes.
“You heard Mr. Carver refer to a visit he paid to my offices.”
“Yes.”
“He brought two gentlemen with him, from other enterprises operating near the Charles.”
She inclined her head. “I gather these gentlemen all had something to say to you.”
“Each one of them told me that since you opened your dispensary, workers in other manufactories and businesses have begun to demand similar services at the employers’ expense.”
Color flared in her cheeks, but she held herself still. “Do you think it is wrong for employers to provide for the well-being of their employees when it is in the employers’ best interests to do so? Employees will work more effectively if they are in good health and need not worry about food for their bellies or clothing for their children.”
“What I think is not germane. I am not responsible for cost effectively running those other facilities. What is pertinent is that workers who feel entitled to make demands are a threat to the progress of industry.”
Her lips thinned. “I fail to see the threat in workers requesting necessities that will improve their ability to work.”
James inhaled deeply. “If an employer acceded to every demand the workers make, the business’s profits would disappear. The employers would soon find themselves encumbered by debt so great they could not continue to provide employment. It is not the job of employers to see to the workers’ needs. That is what workers must do with the pay they earn.”
Her hands flew apart to grip the arms of her chair. She thrust herself upward, planted a fist on each hip and strode to him, leaning in and all but pointing her finger in his face.
“If that pay is insufficient to purchase food and clothing and is barely enough to cover the cost of housing, then the employers must either increase salaries or make up the resulting lack in some other way. Which will cost Alden Cloth Works more, increasing the salary of every employee or establishing a charitable dispensary?”
James rose as well. She was glorious in anger. Her eyes flaring, cheeks aflame, her hair a burnished halo with wisps of light trailing down the peach-tinted column of her throat. He was struck speechless, and his lower body turned harder than Monier’s reinforced concrete.