Love Engineered

by Jenna Dawlish

  She dressed wearily, tired due to lack of sleep. She snapped at her maid, but later after breakfast apologised to her. It wasn't Sophie's fault that she was fighting her feelings. She dreaded turning into one of those matriarchal women who treated her servants no better than slaves.

  She had felt attraction to men before, but the spark of admiration had been there from the moment she saw him. Almost before she met him. The expectation of meeting the man she had heard so much about had been immense. She admired his work as an engineer, but the man himself proved to be every bit as attractive as the work he did.

  For the first time she felt stupid; his intellect frightened her. But she tried not to shy away from his brilliance. It was endearing, and coupled with his caring attitude to his family, there was very little not to admire.

  She was due to see Jane again that morning, but excused herself with a note, and pleaded a headache. Her mind was too clouded, and seeing the sister would only serve as a reminder of the brother.

  A note written in a clear neat hand was returned within an hour of it having been sent:

  Dear Louise,

  I hope your ailment is temporary and that you will soon be better. I will go to the drapers this morning anyway and tell you when I next see you if the pink silk we talked of is as pretty as Miss Hunter said.

  Yours etc.

  Jane Lucas

  After the morning alone, her state of mind was no better. She now regretted having cancelled her arrangements with Jane and decided to walk out for a while. She began to wonder what her late father would have said about it all. Would he approve of such a man as Mr Lucas?

  There was no doubt he would understand her attraction to an engineer. From an early age, her father made many friends with those in trade and the professions. He had never, like many of his peers, shunned those who earned their money through hard work and expertise. Many were visitors to Glazebrook, including some of the top engineers, and as a girl, Louise had never been kept away from their company.

  The last night her father had been alive, she kept a vigil beside him, not willing to be away from him for one second before the inevitable happened. His illness had been mercifully quick, and he slipped in and out of consciousness many times. Each time he would instruct her, or sometimes he would call out his wife's name. In the early hours of his last morning he said to her:

  “If you marry, make sure he won't use you ill. Be careful. I couldn't bear it if you were trapped in a marriage where your husband squandered everything we have both worked for, or treated you badly.”

  “Father, I promise you I will try to do as you wish, but I'm sure I shall never marry.”

  “You will my dear. You will.” His cold, frail hand patted hers. “You wait and see. It will happen, you will fall in love, whether you mean to or not. But I know you're like your mother, you could never marry for anything but love.”

  An excellent father, he was never angry or fierce to her. He spoiled her a little when she was young, but with the guidance of his sensible-minded wife, they had managed to correct those character flaws early on.

  For many years she was the only child, and then when she was nine, a sibling was born. She could remember it well – a cold December night. Her mother recovered well from childbirth, but another unrelated ailment struck her and she died months later. The baby, healthy at first, had caught smallpox and, although he survived, was weakened and deteriorated over the course of a year. He died in his father's arms a few months after his mother.

  Louise and her father thereafter learnt to depend upon each other, and Sir Robert made sure that he passed as much knowledge on to her as he could. There was no time for frivolous learning; solid education was provided and the best tutors hired. He was never far from the classroom, and checked on her progress daily. She was a mild, receptive child, adolescence had been difficult at times; the absence of a mother meant that female companionship had to be sought through friends of her father's generation. She had been brought up almost as though she were a boy. Her indulgences had been learning those things that boys were taught: maths, history, business. But her real passion was inventions and engineering.

  She did have female friends, but she found them somewhat dull. Their parents didn't like their daughters to learn the things Louise did, and consequently through design and desire, most of her childhood friends were boys.

  No, she regretted nothing. Finally now, she had met Jane, a young woman closer to her own age whom she felt drawn to, despite their different natures and positions. She resolved to see Jane again the next day, and knew it was unlikely that she would see Charles Lucas much, if at all. His work must keep him away from home at those times she was most likely to visit.

  The next morning, Louise called on Jane and they made their way to the drapers.

  “Your headache didn't last long I trust?” Jane's eyes searched her face.

  “No. By the afternoon it had cleared, thankfully.” Louise looked away, and hoped her countenance didn't betray her.

  “I hope it wasn't caused by dining with us the night before.”

  “No, of course not!”

  Jane lowered her head. “I thought I had offended you.”

  Louise stopped walking and took hold of her hand. “No! How could you ever offend anyone?”

  They continued on, and arriving at the drapers, they entered to find it almost empty. Louise had never visited this particular shop before, it being not in the most fashionable part of town. But the assistant could clearly tell quality customers when he saw them and treated them with the utmost distinction and attention. They were shown an array of fabrics but both women admired the new pink silk imported from India a few days earlier.

  “The colour suits you much better than me.” Louise held the soft material up to Jane's face. They both turned to the small mirror on the counter.

  “I do like it,” Jane said. “But your dark hair matches it well too. I'm sure there are several shades of yellow and blue that I would love to wear but make me look washed out and sickly.”

  Louise smiled back at Jane's reflection. “If we all looked the same, it would be very boring.”

  They made their way home to the Lucas house to have afternoon tea and were interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Edward and Charles. Louise was secretly pleased and tried not to blush as they paid their respects to her.

  “I thought you were busy today?” Jane asked them both in a petulant tone.

  “We have a number of business matters to attend to here,” Charles said. “We can't stay for long.”

  Edward interrupted, “But not so pressing that we can't stay for some tea.”

  It was Edward who commandeered Louise's attention at first, whilst Charles went to his study, returning after fifteen minutes with a bundle of papers and, Louise noticed ink stains on his hand.

  “Miss Thomas has been telling me about her estate in Devon,” Edward said to his brother. “It seems she has to return there very soon due to estate matters.”

  “Indeed,” Charles said. “What sort of business matters do you have to deal with?”

  She gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “All sorts of things. Many of the tenants request my help in overseeing repairs and helping them deal with problems, such as floods or the disposal of diseased animals. Sometimes they need advice on farming methods, and several of them are trying new ways of improving their yields. The estate has a large amount of farming machinery that the tenants borrow. It's quite interesting, although I think you would probably think it somewhat primitive compared with the projects you undertake.”

  She assessed his response to what she told him. He seemed interested enough, so she continued. “Unfortunately, on the odd occasion I have to intervene when they have disputes.”

  “Really? Disputes?” He sat down near her. “What was the last dispute you had to deal with?” It was a serious question, yet she noticed he wore a small smile. She tried to ignore how much she liked him sitting so near.


  “Well,” she said seriously. “The latest dispute was immediately before I came to London a week or so ago. It was between two farmers. They are brothers and they both purchased six rare breed cows; each paid half of the amount to buy the animals. One of the brothers cared for the animals whilst the other refused to help. Eventually after much protest and threats, the first brother sold the animals because he grew tired of caring for them alone. The second brother, upon hearing of the sale, demanded half of the money. But he wouldn't pay him.”

  “And what happened?” asked Jane, who by now was listening intently to their conversation.

  “The first brother said he'd never pay him half of the money because he didn't deserve it after all of the work he put into the animals. The animals were sold for much more than the brothers had originally paid. Eventually, a few weeks later, they asked me to resolve the issue.”

  “How exactly?” Charles asked.

  “I spoke to both of them on their own, and heard their cases. Then, after thought and prayer for guidance and wisdom, I gave them my opinion.”

  “Which was?”

  “That the first should pay the second a third of the money he got for the sale of the cows.”

  “A wise decision,” Jane commented.

  “A fair judgment,” Edward agreed.

  Charles said nothing for a few seconds, his eyes full of amusement. “It must be nice for you to get away from such petty matters when you're in London,” he said eventually. She had hoped he would express his opinion of her judgment. But he was frustratingly silent on that matter.

  “I do not find them petty.” She shook her head and spoke in an earnest tone. “They are very important events in my tenants' lives. The two farmers I spoke of have little land, they are elderly and the cows they bought were a huge investment for them. No, I wouldn't call that petty.”

  He stared at her for a few moments. “Perhaps you are right. I wouldn't wish to upset you, as a guest in my house or a friend of Jane's.”

  He took a sip of his tea and stood up as though to go and sit with Jane, but Louise stopped him, saying, “Mr Lucas, do you not have disputes amongst your workers? You must have had some?”

  “Yes. And I see what you're going to argue. You're about to compare my work to yours, and tell me that we're just the same, that we must deal with similar issues.”

  “But surely we both have the authority to resolve such things, and I would never dare say that any aspect of ship building, or bridge construction, or anything else is petty. The whole item cannot be built without extreme care to the details. In the same way, farming cannot be run without care to each detail, however petty it seems or however small the herd.” She spoke the last words in a soft, gentle tone. If it were anyone else but him she would have put them in their place. But there was something alluring about arguing with him. She bore him no malice for having spoken what he thought. In fact, she would say anything, have any conversation with Charles Lucas, famous engineer, whatever the subject matter. But most of all she knew that he couldn't have any idea of the complexities of running an estate as large as Glazebrook, any more than she knew how to build a bridge across the Tamar.

  He didn't reply, and withdrew to the fireplace to gather his thoughts. If the truth be known, to put as much space between himself and her. An engineer and a landowner; there couldn't be a greater difference. Perhaps he was biased. Of course he was. He knew he should not allow his previous dislike and experience of landowners to prejudice him, but he couldn't help it. He looked back at her – there was something about her that made him want to talk to her, made him want to believe she was different. He shook himself. What was he afraid of? That he might be attracted to her? It had been a long time since he had truly admired a woman.

  A short time later, he was pleased when she approached him again.

  “Mr Lucas, you and I are much the same, I feel.”

  He looked down at her with a smile. “How so?”

  “Well, we both have many livelihoods under our care and yet, we do not have the inclination to deal with those things that our dependents need us most for,” she replied.

  “You do not care to sort out the details of these people's lives?”

  “If I had a choice, no. But, alas, it's my duty to do these things. I was born to it, whether I like it or not, and very often I would prefer to not have the worry of it all.”

  “I can't say I've ever wished to be one of my workers,” he acknowledged.

  “You are stern with them?”

  “Not that I'm aware of. A good principal engineer must gain his men's respect and prepare to get his hands dirty helping them. It's something I do whenever I can.”

  “You like getting your hands dirty?” She raised her eyebrows and there was a sparkle in her eye.

  “Yes I suppose I do.”

  His mind ran to the image of this immaculately dressed lady in front of him helping move cows, or reaping wheat. He was sure she would never help her farmers in such a way. He suppressed his amusement at the thought of her knee deep in mud and turned the conversation to something she had previously said. “But I'm surprised to hear that you lack such an inclination to care for your tenants, it's something that you have never betrayed in anything you have said before.”

  “What I wish for and what I have to do differ.”

  The brothers left shortly afterwards, leaving Jane and Louise to themselves. She was sorry he was gone, even though their conversation had been vexing at times. He seemed to blow hot and cold. Perhaps the pressure of work had left him irritable.

  Chapter 5

  A few weeks later, Charles hurried through the drizzling rain to his offices. He took the shortest route – behind a small parade of shops to a part of town where the rent was as modest as the building itself. Most days there were a constant flow of visitors, contractors, workers, and other tradesmen, all party to the projects the partners undertook. Today, the rain seemed to be keeping them away and he entered the offices without hindrance.

  The junior clerks and engineers were already at their desks, neatly organised but cramped. They acknowledged the senior partner, then went back to their work.

  Charles had his own office, and some time later he was seated behind his desk writing when the door flew open. Ashton hurried in and waved a card. “Today is a day to celebrate!” he grinned.

  “Why?” Charles said, not looking up until he had finished his sentence.

  “Because our invitation to Miss Thomas's Engineers’ Dinner has just arrived.”

  He handed the printed card to Charles, who studied it briefly before he handed it back.

  “That is the date we were supposed to be meeting Mr Tyler about the steel order,” Charles said in a nonchalant tone.

  “Hang Mr Tyler. I will write to him straight away and change the date. We cannot refuse. If word got out we vetoed Miss Thomas we would never live it down. Indeed, there are several people who will be green with envy when they know we have been invited. I shall try and happen upon them accidentally as soon as I can.”

  Charles frowned. “Can you not go on your own?”

  “Certainly not! The invitation is specific, it's you and I who are invited.” He wagged his finger at his partner. “You're not getting out of this one, however much you would like to!”

  “What if I were ill?”

  “I'd still drag you there.”

  “Dead?”

  “Stop it. You are going and that is final.”

  “But I have seen so much of Miss Thomas lately that I'm growing uncomfortable seeing her,” Charles said with a sigh and sank down into his chair. “She will start to believe the only reason I speak to her is to further my reputation and work.” The truth was, he couldn't stop thinking about her and wanted to keep his distance, but he was hardly going to tell that to Ashton.

  “But that is precisely the reason we have this. Well, actually I think we can thank Jane for it too. You must tell her of my gratitude when you get home.”


  “She will not get my thanks. And I think it very improper of Miss Thomas to send out invitations so late. It's only next week. Surely she should have sent the invitations weeks ago?”

  “I don't care about that! Promise me you will behave on the night of the dinner? We're fortunate to have received it, they say that there are only thirty people invited each year and that an invitation one year does not necessarily mean an invitation the next.”

  “Sounds very tiresome. I can't understand what all the fuss is about.”

  “Investors my dear boy. Investors. There will be plenty of them there, too.”

  “Well then, isn't it better that I do not go; I will only say something you will not like and turn the investors away.”

  “No you will not. Stop trying to make excuses.” Ashton breathed in deeply. “If Jane stays friends with Miss Thomas, then I think we will be invited every year. You must do your best to encourage the friendship.”

  Charles dipped his pen in the ink and began writing again. “You'd best do that yourself. If you have finished, I have work to do,” he said in a stern tone and without looking up.

  When Ashton left, Charles stared at the closed door and pondered their conversation. He was annoyed by Ashton's continual praise and connivance regarding Miss Thomas and though he despised his partner’s constant fawning, he knew he was doing it for the best of reasons. But the fact that he had to include him in all his plans, and expect him to perform to order was disconcerting. He was sure he would do nothing to put himself out. In fact he was determined to treat Miss Thomas the same as any other friend of Jane's; with civility and courtesy but no other special treatment. For his own sanity, at least.

  Mr Ashton was incorrect in his assumption that Jane's friendship with Louise was the reason they had received an invitation. The truth was, Louise had purposely put Charles's name at the top of the list for the dinner. She told herself that it was his skill and genius at work that put him there and that she would have added his name regardless of their recent acquaintance. But deep down she knew there was another reason. A reason she couldn't yet admit to herself.