Love Engineered

by Jenna Dawlish

  “But surely, a woman who has lived so independently would appear selfish at times. She only has herself to think of.”

  “Of course, but it has driven her to be excessively so,” Risinger said. “Now enough about that woman. Let's speak of cheerful things. How about a game of cards for a small wager? You play badly, I seem to remember.”

  Charles agreed, but he wondered what had taken place between his friend and Miss Thomas and whether it would make her a less suitable friend for his sister.

  Chapter 7

  Louise left London for Devon a few days later, after a fond farewell to Jane and Mrs Lucas. Her estate, situated in the eastern part of Devonshire near the Axe valley, used to be a task to get to. But after the railway had opened a few years earlier, the journey became relatively quick and easy.

  Her carriage was waiting for her at Axminster station. For a few years now, she had ideas for a branch line that would take passengers from Axminster, then ten miles to the sea. But there were still many locals unconvinced of its benefits.

  She lowered the carriage window, and let the cool breeze in on her face as she travelled on. Her eyes searched eagerly for the landscape she had missed these last few weeks, and eventually the houses turned into trees, fields and hills. The first signs of autumn had begun here too: the leaves were a gentle brown, and a few lay scattered on the roadside. The harvest was in full swing and the fields were full of horses, carts, threshers and other new machinery. She looked forward to speaking to the farmers near her to see how the new machinery was helping them and eagerly watched those at work as she passed.

  Eventually, the coach went under the ornate stone archway marking her estate’s entrance and the house. She was tired and hungry, but her heart was peaceful. She was home at last.

  The familiar three storey Portland stone building that dominated the landscape for miles was a welcome sight. There was only one thing that saddened her: the house would be empty. Yes, there were servants, loyal servants, but no family, and she felt her loneliness keenly at such a time as this. She should be used to it by now, but part of her still wished there was someone waiting for her to return.

  As soon as she was settled in, she made her way outside and across the garden to the familiar stone barn that was now converted to her workroom. She carried with her the most recent purchases from London: a number of books and the sketch of Mr Lucas's bridge. The room smelt a little musty, but after she lit a fire, it soon warmed. She checked her miniature steam engines; they were a little dusty. She wouldn't allow the servants into this private sanctuary to clean, so she set about dusting them herself.

  Afterward, she opened her new volume of chemical experiments, and picking one out, began to follow the instructions. A few hours later, she realised it was almost time for dinner, and pinning the sketch of the bridge onto the wall, she returned to her duties.

  The next day, after she had dealt with a myriad of business matters with her steward and housekeeper, she called on Miss Hill, one of the local elderly ladies. She had known Louise from childhood and was always pleased to see her. The object of the visit was to meet the lady's niece, Miss Lucy Potts, who was newly arrived for a long visit. The girl was out, and Miss Hill apologised that such a distinguished visitor as herself had been let down. Louise wasn't upset, though it was inconvenient, but invited Miss Potts to call the next day at Glazebrook.

  Before she left, Miss Hill entreated Louise to take the young girl under her wing, “Because her parents think her far too flighty and absent-minded at times. She needs someone to look up to who is the height of good breeding.” Louise reluctantly agreed – Miss Hill had been a fount of advice and support when Louise was younger and especially when her father died. She couldn't deny her this request. Her only hope was that the niece would be pleasant company.

  Niece and aunt came at the appointed time the next day and Miss Hill apologised again for at least ten minutes for Lucy being out the previous day, and explained she had been helping Mrs Barnes decorate the church for the harvest festival.

  Louise took to inspecting the girl while her aunt rattled on. She was thin and petite, and she wore a straight, practiced smile upon one of the prettiest faces Louise had ever seen. Strands of blonde hair had escaped her neat bun, but Louise supposed she must have to do her hair herself. She didn't say much, her light blue eyes dancing nervously around the room. Louise wondered if Lucy had been sent to her aunt’s because she was attracting the attention of too many young men. She would try and find out by asking subtle questions later.

  They drank tea, then when Lucy expressed a wish to see the estate grounds, set out for a walk.

  “Do you really live there?” Lucy asked when her aunt was out of earshot and they could see Glazebrook in the distance; the two of them being younger and faster on their feet.

  “Yes,” she answered, though she thought it an odd question.

  “What, all those rooms just for yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many bedrooms are there?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Fifteen! I would sleep in a different one each night. Is that what you do?”

  “No. I have had the very same bedchamber since I was a small girl.”

  “This is all so wonderful,” Lucy said as they reached the end of the landscaped gardens, and walked into the outer fields. She looked around enthusiastically. “I would love to paint these scenes so that when I'm gone back home I can remember it all. I have a particular talent at painting.”

  “I'm sure there are many other places with equal beauty, but you may come here at any time to paint. Would you like it if we painted together?”

  But Lucy’s attention was already diverted by something new. “Look! There's a lake!” She pointed and ran towards it.

  Louise caught her up.

  “What is in the lake?” Lucy demanded, peering into it.

  “What's in it?” Louise tried not to laugh. “All sorts of things. Though there are a lot of trout.”

  “How many fish are there?”

  “I'm not sure. Although I imagine a great many.”

  “I would love to have my own lake!” She clutched her hands together.

  “It's not that interesting surely,” Louise muttered to herself. “It's only a lake.”

  “But if I had a lake, I would catch fish, get a boat and oh, I don't know, do all sorts of things on it, every day. Have you got a boat?”

  They continued around the water to the boathouse until Louise grew weary and decided to head back.

  “Tell me about where you grew up,” Louise asked as they reached the walled garden.

  “It's a little place on the border in Bedfordshire; called Kensworth. Not very exciting.”

  “Did you enjoy growing up there?”

  “Well enough. It was a little dull at times. Near London but not near enough to stay long. I'd love to see more of London, but most of all I would love to see Paris. Have you been?”

  “Yes, once.”

  “I would love to travel to different places, see new towns, new countries, wouldn't you?”

  “I can't say I've ever thought of it. Besides, I have many duties to keep me here, so really it would be impossible for me to travel any distance or for a long time.”

  They parted a while later and arranged to go to a fair together in a few days’ time. Louise was glad to be alone after Lucy left. It wasn't that she disliked her, but the young girl talked incessantly and about so many different subjects, that Louise had hardly finished answering her first question, when Lucy asked another.

  The day of the fair, Louise collected Miss Hill and Lucy in her carriage. It was a cloudy day, and in previous years it had often rained on the day of the event. Rain or no, it would take more than water from the sky to prevent the locals from attending. The event was an important one in the calendar for all and the preparations took weeks.

  It was opened by the Mayor, who spoke at considerable length in a low drone and finally, to the
relief of everyone, declared that the festivities should begin. The men immediately made their way to the cider tent, and the ladies to the stalls where there was produce, food and drink for sale and which numbered at least thirty. There was an array of animals on display: sheep, goats, rabbits, horses, ponies, pigs and cows, and the Falconer was centre stage. Louise's gaze swept across the familiar layout of the tents. It was the same every year, and the field was a flat one high up so that there was a full command of the valley below.

  “What shall we do first?” Lucy said excitedly and looked around, completely ignoring the view.

  “Whatever you like,” Louise said.

  “I would like to try skittles. Have you ever played?”

  “Yes, many times. I have a set at Glazebrook.” Lucy ran forwards. They reached them and played a few matches.

  Louise won.

  Lucy soon became bored, and they headed around the stalls again. When they were about to reach the metalworker, Lucy stopped and grabbed Louise's arm, and whispered with bright eyes, “Look, there he is!”

  “Who?”

  “Mr Francis of course! The gentleman we spoke of the other day when we walked by the lake.”

  “Mr Francis? I don't recall you mentioning him, or any man.”

  Lucy gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Perhaps I didn't mention him, but he was on my mind. He is stood over there!”

  Louise peered over Lucy's shoulder to a group of men standing near the shire horse and cart.

  “Which one is he?”

  “The handsome one of course!”

  Louise's shoulders dropped. “My dear, your idea of handsome may well be very different to mine. You must give me more of an indication as to which one he is.”

  “He's the one stood in the middle, with the dark green waistcoat.”

  Louise was right, their idea of handsome was different.

  “Has he seen us?” Lucy whispered.

  “No, he's too busy talking with his companions.”

  “We must do something to attract his attention.” Her wide eyes fluttered. “I long to talk to him. Although I'm not sure what I would say!” She gave a small girlish giggle.

  “We're here to enjoy the fair, not talk to Mr Francis. Besides, I'm sure you will get the opportunity to speak to him today. And remember, we can hardly approach him. He must approach us.”

  “But I will die if I do not speak to him!”

  Louise pulled her to the bee-keeper's stall and made several purchases. When she turned around to speak to Lucy, she found that she had avoided certain death and was in fact in conversation with Mr Francis.

  She stood a little behind them as they talked, and wasn't close enough to hear what they said but it was clear by the blushes on both set of cheeks that the attraction was mutual. She noted that Mr Francis appeared a respectable young man: he was clean-shaven and not drinking cider; always a good sign, and he had a pleasant countenance. He looked young, probably little more than twenty-one. Just the right age for a man to fall for a pretty face.

  A few moments later, Mr Francis noticed Louise waiting for Lucy and whispered something to her. Lucy turned round and made the introduction. Mr Francis spoke quickly and nervously to her, and after a few observations on the fair, Louise decided the best course of action was to end the conversation. She was only getting in their way. “Would you excuse me Mr Francis? I have a great deal of people to see today.” He gave a short bow and Louise walked away saying, “Lucy, I'll see you later.”

  After watching these flirtations and signs of growing affection, her mind ran to a certain family in London. She had seen no outward sign that Mr Lucas liked her as Mr Francis so clearly liked Lucy, and she wondered if she ever betrayed such indications herself. She hoped not. It would be most embarrassing to blush and simper like Lucy. She must make sure it never happened. But how else was a woman to make her preference obvious?

  The fair ended at four o'clock when the stalls closed, and the main marquee opened for a dance, and it seemed as though everyone was there and in good spirits too. Even the Turner brothers were sitting together and seemed to have resolved their differences, temporarily at least.

  Lucy danced with many of the young men, including Mr Francis. Her beauty attracted many glances from the gentlemen, young and old. Louise danced a few times herself, having been drawn into the merriment. The lack of gentlemen didn't affect her ability to obtain a dance partner. As one of the most important people in the area she could dance with whomever she chose. During an interlude Lucy cornered Louise and demanded to know her opinion of Mr Francis.

  “Do you not think him an excellent gentleman?”

  “Yes, he seems very agreeable,” Louise replied. “But I haven't really spoken to him, so I really can't form a proper opinion just yet.”

  “Then I will go and get him immediately, and you can find out everything you need to know. But I warn you – he's ever so clever and talks about all sorts of things I haven't a clue about. He's tried to teach me a few things, but I'm a hopeless student. Still, he doesn't seem to mind and keeps telling me how pretty I am. That's a good thing isn't it?”

  Before Louise could stop her, Lucy marched off, and moments later returned with a somewhat confused Mr Francis. Not only that, but Lucy then walked away and left them alone.

  “Miss Potts tells me you're a scholar,” she asked.

  “Yes ma'am.”

  “What subjects have you studied?

  “Geology and archaeology.”

  “I see,” Louise said eying him. He swallowed hard under her obvious scrutiny. “And do you enjoy these subjects or were you forced into studying them by your parents?”

  Mr Francis's eyebrows raised in surprise. “No, I chose them myself.”

  “Are you an Oxford graduate?”

  “Cambridge. I have recently left and I'm spending a few months with my grandparents, before I start looking for a position in earnest.”

  “What sort of position are you looking for? Do you wish to field study, or are you going to teach?”

  “I was hoping to field study, but there are not many positions open, especially to someone with as little experience as myself.”

  His countenance relaxed, although Louise was by no means finished with her questions and started the onslaught again. “Well, you must start somewhere I suppose, and there must be plenty of apprenticeships. Are you taking the opportunity to study the geology and archaeology here in Devon?”

  “A little, I have had the good fortune to be involved in a dig near Exeter. They think they have found a Roman villa.”

  “Really? How interesting. And tell me, what are the theories they are teaching on Stonehenge at Cambridge?”

  They talked until Lucy claimed him for another dance. Louise had formed a good opinion of Mr Francis. He was intelligent, gentlemanly and his eyes frequently searched for Lucy as he spoke to Louise. He came from a good family line, his grandparents being well known in the area as respectable middle class. She might do far worse. So might he.

  . . .

  Louise saw little of Lucy for a few weeks. They were both busy in their own way; Lucy with trying to attract the attentions of Mr Francis, and Louise with the stewardship of her estate. It was on a dry Sunday afternoon after church that the two ladies met again.

  Louise found Lucy alone when she called, as her aunt, Miss Hill, was visiting a friend in a nearby village for the afternoon.

  “I'm so excited,” Lucy told Louise before she could enter the room properly. Without waiting for her to ask why, she continued, “Mr Francis is returning tomorrow from his trip to North Devon!” She grabbed both of Louise's hands tightly.

  “I had no idea he had gone away,” Louise commented.

  “Yes, only for a week. He was going to look at some of the cliffs or something. Anyway, he returns tomorrow.”

  Lucy let go of Louise's hands and they sat down.

  “You still like Mr Francis then?”

  “Very, very much. He calls at
least three times in a week to walk out with me and has come to tea several times. Aunt Hill thinks that he may make me an offer soon.” She gazed dreamily out of the window.

  Louise felt a little shocked, but made sure not to show it. “Does she?”

  “Yes. She said that all I need to do is encourage him as I have been and he will ask me before his six months' visit is over!”

  Louise hadn't observed the two together recently, but it all felt a bit too rushed. They hardly knew each other, and he had only just begun to work; how could he possibly afford to keep a wife and the myriad of children that were bound to follow?

  Louise's contemplations were interrupted after a while by Lucy's voice. “Have you ever had an offer of marriage?”

  “Well, yes I have.”

  “What was it like?”

  “It depends which one you mean. But all in all, I have received seven offers of marriage and each was very different.”

  “Seven!” Lucy gasped. “My goodness! And you must have refused them all, because you're not married.”

  “Yes, of course,” Louise said, as though it were the stupidest statement ever made.

  “Well, I'm not sure what I would do if I received that many offers. Were you never tempted to accept any of them?”

  “Goodness me, no. Never,” Louise gave a small laugh.

  “I can't believe it. Seven offers. You must be excessively smug to have received that many!”

  “Not at all. I found them rather exasperating really. In fact, if I were not the heir to my father’s estate, I rather think I wouldn't have received any.”

  “Tell me about some of them, tell me about the sort of gentlemen who have asked you. I would love to know.”

  “Well . . . ” Louise sat back in her chair. “Mr Newton: he was such a boring man I fell asleep every time he started to speak. Even when he was proposing I didn’t realise it. It was only when he was on one knee that I suddenly asked him what he was doing down there and I had to ask him to repeat what he had said! He didn't seem to mind me asking him to repeat himself, but was rather upset when I refused him.