Despite the prestige of her dinners, she was nervous that her invitation would be accepted, and she had no real doubt that he would refuse, unless business took him out of London. In the six years she had been running the dinners in her father’s place, only once did someone refuse her invitation and afterwards they assured her it was because of illness.
Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long for her answer, which came the next day in the hand of Mr Ashton. She read the polite acceptance and knew how pleasant it would be to have Mr Lucas attend.
The day of the dinner arrived and she fretted over every detail. Everything was kept exactly as her father had done. How she missed him at this time of the year. She checked and re-checked every detail from the menu, the table and place settings, as well as the quality of the wine, bought from an exclusive importers. She couldn't let him down, and now years after his death, she believed she had perfected the dinners. He would be proud of her, she was sure. There were times in the past years when she wondered why she continued the tradition, but one glance at her father's portrait told her why.
There were some who frowned on what she did: a single woman hosting a group of men. She heard the whispers. She knew to some people, particularly women, it was shocking. But really, she enjoyed the company of men – especially when she was the means to bring together the great men of the age. The investors loved it too. They had a chance to meet the men who were the means of their profits. There were more reasons to continue with the dinner than not. She was sure if she didn't hold it, someone else would take over the task. Of course, it would never be as prestigious if they did.
Mr Lucas and Mr Ashton were amongst the first guests to arrive. Louise barely noticed Mr Ashton's compliments and gratitude at being amongst the lucky few, her attention, albeit covertly, was on one man. Mr Lucas bowed over her hand and greeted her formally and she noticed how smart he was in a cream waistcoat and matching cravat, a change from his usual dark ones. In his jacket pocket there was a small diamond pin and she wondered who had given it to him. Perhaps he bought it himself.
Charles Lucas wasn't one to gush, like his partner, but she discerned that he seemed pleased enough to be there, though a little awkward. She comforted herself that she was glad to have him in her house, and wore an air of happiness rarely displayed. But before their conversation could get any further, she was pulled away as more people arrived. She circulated round the guests with practiced ease, always acutely aware where he was in the room, and to whom he was speaking.
Soon enough the room was full and all the guests had arrived. Louise took a moment to cast her gaze over the room. Investors were talking with engineers. Mr Lucas wasn't far away and as a new guest, was being questioned by a number of old-timers. Louise smiled; she hoped he didn't get too many difficult questions. The conversation grew louder and for over an hour, the guests mixed. Louise made sure she spoke to everyone, excusing herself and moving to the next group with expert ease.
When dinner was served, Louise was at the head of the table, and she had placed Mr Lucas halfway down for her own sanity and presence of mind. Near to her, yet far enough away that she could concentrate on being hostess. Conversations between the gentlemen were as expected: engineering issues, and Louise noticed the usual amount of boasts displayed. Just as she had surmised, Mr Lucas wasn't one to join in with them.
Dinner was a lavish affair. Eight courses, all her own design. She had brought her cook especially from Glazebrook. Halfway through dinner, Mr Stephenson called a halt to all other conversation when he asked Louise in a booming voice, “Dear Louise, where is Mr Robert Adams this evening? You promised me he would be here tonight.”
A hush settled over the table and all heads turned towards her. She placed her napkin down, looked directly back and said in a playful tone, “Why, I made no promise of the kind, as you well know. I did of course invite Mr Adams, and he accepted at first. Unfortunately, I received a note yesterday that said he had urgent business and couldn't attend after all.”
“That is what you say every year,” Mr Stephenson replied with a broad grin. “Yet there is no empty seat for him here at the table.”
Louise closed her eyes for a moment. “I knew he wouldn't come, but if he had turned up, I would have made space for him. Besides, I cannot be responsible for Mr Adams's behaviour. If you wish to speak to him then I suggest you make an appointment.”
“I have tried that, and never yet succeeded,” he said.
“Aye, I have too,” Mr Ashton said from further down the table. “He is very elusive. Has anyone here met him?”
There was a general murmur and shaking of heads. Nobody, it seemed had met the man.
“There,” said Mr Stephenson. “None of us has ever seen him, yet everyone knows of him. Tell me, Miss Thomas, have you ever met him?”
“I suppose you could say that I have met him, yes,” she said.
“Do you know him very well?” Ashton interjected in an eager voice.
“Yes, quite well.”
“What sort of man is he?”
She cleared her throat. “He will be highly amused at this conversation when I tell him you are were all talking about him.”
“Is anyone close to winning his flying prize?” someone asked further down the table.
Louise looked in the general direction of the man who had spoken; the elderly Mr Purnell, an investor.
“Not as far as I'm aware. I think Mr Adams eagerly awaits the time he can award his prize money.”
“What prize is this?” Ashton asked.
“Mr Adams has a prize of ten thousand pounds for anyone who can invent a powered flying machine – that works.” Louise said.
“It can't be done,” someone murmured.
Louise spoke up in a forthright tone. “Mr Adams thinks it can be done, and I agree with him. One day, someone will invent it. Look at how far we have come in the last fifty years.” Some of the men nodded, and her gaze fell briefly on Mr Lucas, to see his reaction to her words. He was listening attentively. “It may not be in our lifetime – it may not be for a hundred years, but I'm sure one day mankind will take to the skies.”
“Ten thousand pounds is a lot of money,” Mr Stephenson commented.
“A big incentive,” someone else said.
“One thing is for sure,” Mr Purnell added, “I will invest in anything Mr Adams does. He has the luck of the devil. Anyone know what his latest projects are?”
All eyes turned to Louise again. “I believe he has invested a great deal of money in the dock extensions at Bristol.”
“That is Mr Lucas's project,” someone said.
All eyes turned to Charles, who was in the middle of taking a sip of wine. He gave a curt nod to acknowledge the accolade.
The conversation turned to how that work was progressing and Ashton seemed particularly pleased. Louise sat back and listened to those near her with a contented smile.
When they had all moved to the drawing room after dinner, Louise was approached by Mr Stephenson.
“I hope you didn't mind my little joke at the dinner table,” he said as he sipped his coffee.
“You mean regarding Mr Adams?” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Yes, of course I minded. It was a great liberty you took and if I didn't hold such a fondness for you and your wife, I would punish you accordingly.”
He laughed. “But how could I not mention Mr Adams?”
They glanced around the room. “Your choice of new blood tonight is interesting,” he said, looking over to Mr Lucas.
“You disapprove?”
“Not at all. I wonder what took you so long to invite him.”
“He has only recently risen above the parapet, I believe.”
“I've known him a while, and saw his potential immediately. Mr Adams may have to fight off other investors in that man now that you have identified him.”
Louise shook her head. “He has nurtured his own reputation, and does not need me to further it.”
&nbs
p; “Then you underestimate your influence, dear Louise.”
The evening ended after midnight and before it was over, Louise did got one more chance to speak to Mr Lucas, even though it was through coercion. Frustrated that she hadn't spoken to him – he always seemed to be in deep conversation with somebody else – she sought out Mr Ashton. She knew he would be more than willing to speak to her. She then proceeded to ask him questions about their work that only Mr Lucas could answer. Before long, Mr Ashton called over his partner. “Miss Thomas has been asking me all sorts of questions. You must speak to her so that I no longer appear stupid by not answering them.”
Mr Ashton retreated.
“More questions Miss Thomas? I thought we had exhausted the subject of all my current projects,” Mr Lucas said with a smile.
“Perhaps we have and I just have a bad memory,” she said nervously.
Their conversation lasted just a few short minutes, before she was pulled away by guests taking their leave. But for her those few minutes were enough. He had been in her house, he sat at her table, he spoke to her of his work. The fact that he treated her no differently from her middle-aged male guests quite escaped her notice. She would have to be content with the precious little time they could spend together.
Chapter 6
It was a rainy evening a few weeks later that Charles made his way to Perrivale's coffee house. A well established place, and frequented by many of the local businessmen, it was where Charles often met Ashton after hours to discuss business in a more relaxed atmosphere than their offices. They sometimes met with business associates, but were mostly on their own. He pushed the door open and immediately breathed in the close thick air of smoke mingled with coffee. Over in the corner at their usual table was Ashton.
He looked up over his newspaper as Charles approached. “I thought you'd be going straight home tonight.”
Charles pulled out the red leather-covered chair and sat down. “Later. Mother and Jane are out visiting friends until seven.”
Ashton placed his newspaper down, scrutinising Charles. “You look tired. What time did you start this morning?”
“Seven.”
Ashton waved his finger. “The problem , Charles, is that you're too good, and if we're not careful you will be spreading yourself too thin. I'm more than happy to look after the investors and the cash flow, but I'm afraid you will wear yourself out and then be no good for anything or anyone. What would we do without you? I don't want to see you working yourself into the ground like Brunel.”
“I can't refuse work, especially something that interests me like this new project. Besides, I do not have to be at the Tamar bridge all that often, Boyd is more than capable of looking after things.”
“Yes, yes – he is very capable. But we must be careful, he lacks some experience. He doesn't have your ability to motivate the workers, or your insight.”
“Not yet, but he'll learn. I'm sure we will not have any problem getting him to report back here in London.”
“No!” scoffed Ashton.
Charles frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He is quite taken with Jane.”
“He is?”
Ashton laughed at his partner. “You had no idea, did you?”
Charles shook his head.
“Hmm, too busy with work. Surely you couldn't have missed the blushes, the fluttering eyelashes and the giggles.” Ashton said in a dry tone. “And that was just Boyd. Would you approve of the match?”
“There is nothing to approve of. Yet. He has made no indication to me.” Charles was slightly unsettled. He thought back over the last few times Boyd had met with Jane. Why hadn't he noticed? “Are you sure there are feelings between them?”
“Oh yes. I think if he did decide to make his intentions known, they wouldn't be unwelcome by her.”
“Really?”
Ashton laughed. “You really didn't notice, did you?”
Charles shook his head again. “It's natural I suppose. Jane is, I believe, not an unattractive woman. She is sensible too. Though part of me thinks no man would be good enough for her, but I know Boyd well enough to know he is the sort of man who would put his wife above everything else. So I suppose I can see no objections.”
“You would approve of him putting his wife above the interests of our partnership and his work?”
“I would as a brother, of course. You would do well to remember that. It's what I would do too. I would always put my wife first.” He added as an afterthought, “Should I ever feel compelled to marry at all, that is.”
“Still no young lady can tempt you, then?” Ashton took a sip of coffee and looked at Charles with amused eyes.
“Nor you, it seems,” he retorted and then continued. “No, I haven't yet met with a woman I could marry.” His mind flashed to one woman but he suppressed the thought.
“And if I had a sister, I would watch over her in just the same way you do. But alas, despite my mother and father's efforts they would only have boys. I think after the sixth, mother decided enough was enough. Can't blame her really, being the only woman amongst all those men. And we were all boisterous – always fighting, always arguing.” Ashton shook his head at the memories.
Charles thought of his own childhood. He and Edward had argued occasionally, but were sent to different schools, so when they saw each other during the holidays they generally got on well enough. It must have been lonely for Jane being the only child at home. She never complained of it, but she was always pleased to see them both during the holidays.
His mind turned to other matters. “Boyd is away for the foreseeable future. Besides, I wouldn't interfere in Jane's matters of the heart. I dare not.” Charles thought for a moment. Jane would never make an unsuitable match. She was too careful for that. He looked across at Ashton. “We still have much business to discuss.”
Ashton was about to reply, when a gentleman approached them.
“Charles? Charles Lucas? I thought it was you!”
Charles stood up and shook the man's hand. “Why, William Risinger. What a surprise! What on earth are you doing in London? I heard you were gone to France.”
“I did, but I'm back,” the man said.
“Permanently?”
“Possibly, but I can't say for sure.”
Charles indicated that he should sit in the empty chair, and took a look at his old school friend. William Risinger was tanned and a little weather-beaten. His face was worn and lined, with deep set eyes. Was this really the same man he had known in his youth? What could have caused him to look so much older than his years?
“This is my business partner, Ashton.” The men shook hands.
“How long has it been since we last met?” Charles asked.
“It must be at least two years, maybe three years at least.”
“It's good to see you again, William.”
“Likewise.”
The two men talked for a time about Charles's work, old friends and what William was doing in London. Ashton went back to his newspaper when it became evident that Mr Risinger wasn't well-connected, and listened in to the odd remark the pair made.
Some time later, Ashton looked at his watch. “I hate to interrupt you both, but I must be going. I'm about to try Miss Thomas to see if she will invest in a number of projects.”
“Miss Thomas?” Risinger raised his eyebrows.
“Yes.” Ashton sat forward, an inquisitive look on his face.
“Miss Louise Thomas from Glazebrook, Devon?”
“Yes. You know her?”
“I used to know her.” His eyes shifted between Lucas and Ashton. “She used to be a friend of mine, but not any more.”
“Your friendship ended? Who broke it off?”
“She did. Most adamant about it too! Told me never to darken her door again,” he said with a sardonic smile.
“The friendship can't have meant much to you then – you look positively glowing that you're no longer friends.” Ashton commented, then
said after a pause, “Surely there must have been a reason, though?”
“I'd rather not talk of it. Rather a painful subject, but I'll tell you one day. Possibly.”
Charles wasn't sure what to say. Risinger looked uncomfortable, and Charles knew him well enough not to press the issue.
Ashton was more intrigued. “Come come, you can't give us a hint of something and then not follow through. Or at least tell me what you know of her.”
“I know she rarely invests in anything, so your efforts are probably in vain. She is one of those members of her class who despise the lower classes, and who think ill of the modern world.”
Charles couldn't help speaking up. “That is a very different picture of her than I have noticed. She seems to be enthralled with industry and all that it entails. She has taken a great interest in my work.“
Risinger was unconcerned. “Maybe she has changed since I last knew her. It has been three years.”
“She has been hosting her engineering dinner for longer than that.”
“Those dinners are just a tradition she has taken over from her deceased father. When I knew her, she was very good at saying one thing and doing another.”
“I don't know her well enough to argue that point,” Charles conceded. But he did think for a moment that Risinger must have the wrong person.
“You will have to rely on my word – as a friend. But if you know her, even a little, you will see she is somewhat different to other women.”
Charles thought for a moment. “Yes, she is. I cannot presume to know women all that well, or be a great judge of them. I know her so little.”
“You will have to trust me on this matter, then. I knew her when she was a child, as well as an adult. Our paths have crossed many times.” He shook his head. “She can't help the way she is – her father was a selfish tyrant. Underneath, she is much the same.”
Love Engineered Page 6