by Sally Orr
Lady Sarah hid a smirk. “Did you prick your finger, Meta?”
Several ladies chuckled discreetly.
One whispered, “On a rake?”
As the Learned Ladies laughed, Meta glared at her friends.
Lady Sarah appeared genuinely sorry for her comment and endeavored to quickly change the subject. “Clara, tell Mr. Drexel about the children.”
Clara brushed her curls aside, then smiled at James and said, “We have also come here to inspect the school for children of lost seamen, just over there by the watchhouse.” She pointed to a tall building across the street. “Our governesses don’t need schooling, of course,” she reddened, “but we do appreciate learning new ways to house them and keep our costs down.”
After that remark, conversation lagged and everyone randomly glanced around them.
Mr. Drexel unsettled Meta by his continued unwavering stare in her direction, one that the others must have noticed too.
Lady Sarah broke the silence. “I understand from Mrs. Russell that you earned a significant profit from the sale of your field guide. Is that true?”
Mr. Drexel sat upright and turned to Lady Sarah. He clenched his teeth slightly, enough that Meta thought that she might be the only person aware of it. Then he raised a brow. “A tolerable amount.”
“Ladies,” Grizel said, “think of what we could do for our governesses with a tolerable amount of additional funds.”
Mr. Drexel remained calm. “Not as much money as you think, I can assure you.” He turned to address the group. “I hope your journey today is a success and that you will consider buying shares in the Thames Tunnel Company when issued next month.”
“Please, sir, I think you have changed the subject,” Lady Sarah countered. “How many copies of the field guide have you sold?”
He sighed, stood, and waited a minute to answer. “A few.”
Clearly, he would never reveal the details in relation to his profits. So Meta switched the conversation back to the tunnel and the schedule for completion.
After several more questions tendered by her friends, and answers he fielded in a lazy, confident attitude, Lady Sarah and several others admitted that they were very impressed and indeed would speak to their relatives about financial support.
Grizel withheld her immediate approval and decided to obtain as much information as possible. She then grilled Mr. Drexel about every detail.
Throughout it all, he remained standing, a smile lingering on his lips.
His explanations appeared to please Lady Sarah. “I cannot tell you how impressed I am with this tunnel. I have always appreciated science and mechanical progress more than any other woman I know. In fact, more than any other person in my circle of acquaintance. My father in particular seems adept at keeping his head under a rock.”
The company chuckled. Many of the ladies spoke of their amazement and approval too.
Following praise for the tunnel, Lady Sarah became quite animated. “Indeed, sir, I have been so impressed by Mr. Brunel and his tunnel, I may have a surprise in store for you. I will arrange things, in coordination with Meta, of course. If my plan comes to pass, I promise you will benefit greatly and be very pleased with the result.”
“Thank you, Lady Sarah.” He bowed in her direction. “I am exceeding grateful that I have made your acquaintance.”
Grizel appeared hesitant. “I really do not see what is so impressive. Ladies, please forgive me, but you all seem too taken with your admiration of the site and fail to consider the risk of such a project. Need I remind you that we are taking about investing in a tunnel under a river. A feat that has never been successful.” She addressed Mr. Drexel in a forcible manner. “What about water leaks? There are rumors that the band of blue clay fluctuates in depth and may become too thin for the size of the tunnel. So when you reach the end of the clay and enter the quicksand, you will become inundated, like the Travistock project. Have you had any significant water leaks, sir?”
His brilliant, wicked smile bloomed. “We are splashed now and then.”
A small, very dirty boy of about twelve ran up to Mr. Drexel. “Brunel needs you now, sir. There’s a leak in number three.” The boy almost hopped in place.
Mr. Drexel did not even blush. “Right, here’s an example of a splash.” He stood and bowed. “Forgive me, ladies, Codlington, my services are needed elsewhere. Believe my sincerity when I say it has been an honor to meet you all.” He moved over to Meta and reached for her hand.
She gave it to him, and he pulled her to her feet. Then he lightly squeezed it a few seconds longer than considered appropriate. “Thank you for inviting your lovely friends to visit our little dig.” After a quick bow to the group, he spun and ran after the boy in the direction of the tunnel.
“Well,” Grizel exclaimed, “splash, indeed. He appears a little loose with the facts. I wonder if we can trust anything he said?”
“Ah, I believe him,” Meta said. “I’m sure a little water is a natural occurrence, like rats in the cellar. They use straw to stop these leaks on regular occasions, but it does not mean the project will be a failure.”
Lady Sarah stood. “I agree with Meta. From what he already told us, water appears on the dirt face when the miners remove the three inches of dirt. But take note of the drainage plans, and the massive steam pump, and cistern. I think Mr. Marc Brunel is a genius. We are very lucky to have his services applied on our behalf here in England.”
“I agree,” Meta said, clapping first.
“Well said, Lady Sarah,” James replied, joining in the applause and turning to Clara. “A most impressive fellow.”
Sybella spoke to Grizel. “Your concern, however, may become justified. Too many leaks might prove costly to complete the tunnel in the long run. But I’ll have to check the numbers first.”
Now that the picnic ended, and their guest of honor had returned to the tunnel, everyone gathered their belongings and headed to the carriages for the return journey across the river.
Meta noticed James offer his arm to Clara, instead of Lily.
Her sister’s frown and wide eyes suggested Lily noticed his compliment too.
Ten
“Oh, how wonderful,” Meta exclaimed, sitting in Lady Sarah’s private drawing room. She leaped up and gave her friend a hug. “I cannot thank you enough. Mr. Drexel works very hard, you understand. He has also been so kind to both James and Fitzy, I’m delighted that we can give him this moment to impress his superiors. But how can we keep this event a secret? Surely with the involvement of such a distinguished personage, our surprise might be prematurely revealed.”
Lady Sarah motioned for Meta to take her seat again on a small gilded sofa and glanced toward the door.
The housekeeper entered with an ornate silver tray filled with various sweets and a sterling tea server resting on a large hinged stand.
Once the housemaid had closed the door behind her, Lady Sarah picked up a sugarcoated puffed treat filled with clotted cream. “Forgive me.” She stuck her finger into the sweet and swiped a large amount of cream on her forefinger. Briefly glancing somewhat guiltily over her shoulder at the door, she licked the cream off in a single motion. “You should have no worries that our surprise will be revealed. I expressly told His Grace’s secretary that we would like to keep this a secret. Given the regimental nature of our interested party, you must put your fears of our surprise being spoiled behind you.”
Meta took a bite of her confection. The melting sweetness of the cream’s vanilla flavor on her tongue could only be described as divine. She softly moaned in pleasure. “Please compliment your staff. I have never tasted a finer sweet.”
“I will,” Lady Sarah said, pouring tea for both of them. “Mrs. Wilson makes these when Father leaves town to visit Swithin. It seems there is a competition between her and Mrs. Handbury in the country.” She giggled. “Both cooks know that when I write to his lordship, I always mention the culinary treats served in his absence. My letters make
Father jealous, hungry, and eager to return home to London. In other words, it is a competition between the two cooks to best one another in tempting my father to return.”
Both women laughed.
“I’m delighted your father is away then,” Meta said, smiling. “I must remember to call whenever I hear he is not in London.” She attempted a sip of tea, but it was too hot. So she blew air across the surface of the satin black brew lapping on the side of a pink floral teacup.
Lady Sarah put down her empty plate on the tea table. “So what do you make of Clara walking off on James’s arm? Lily looked as mad as a March hare.”
Meta giggled. “It will do her good, as far as I’m concerned. She has been hurt; I understand that. But I still believe both James and Lily love each other without reservation. My guess is that Mr. Drexel put James up to paying his attentions to Clara. Some sort of manly scheme to bring Lily up to scratch.”
“I thought you said Mr. Drexel would rather cut off his arm than deal with emotional subjects like romantic love.”
“Indeed, I know for sure he would do so. Any words like feelings, plead, love, and affection bring out his masculine defenses. But in this case, I have a hunch James’s behavior is a result of some sort of pact between the two men. Once gentlemen have interests in common, they bond in such a way that they will readily team up to oppose whatever they consider feminine nonsense. The two of them will engage in any far-fetched scheme as long as they consider the result to be to their advantage.”
“Silly creatures,” Lady Sarah said, focused on another confection lying undisturbed on the tea tray. “Why does Cook put so many of these on the plate? She knows I lack any hope of resisting temptation when these are in sight.” A long sigh escaped her.
Meta smiled. “I lack the ability to resist treats too. So let’s divide this one in half. Then we will feel quite satisfied for not eating the whole thing.”
“Excellent idea,” Lady Sarah said, cutting the sweet into two pieces and handing Meta one. “And then when we are finished, we will cut the last one in half too.”
Meta burst out laughing. “Of course, that way we can congratulate ourselves on our rectitude.”
“Of course.”
Both ladies giggled and consumed the entire plate of sweets.
Later, when Meta stood by the door putting on her straw bonnet and kid gloves, Lady Sarah asked her, “Do you think Mr. Drexel will do as you ask? Our guest will be disappointed otherwise.”
“You mean ensure that the tunnel’s board, including both Mr. Brunels, is at the site that day?”
“Yes, it is a tall order, since the board of the Thames Tunnel Company would have to assemble at a moment’s notice. Does Mr. Drexel trust you enough to do your bidding?”
Meta did not know the answer to her friend’s question. But if she dwelled on the negative side—that he would refuse—she’d become upset. Besides, the promise of new investors was at stake, so she decided his response would likely be an eager, positive one. “I’ll call upon him at home today. So I guess we’ll be able to judge what he thinks of my request soon.”
That afternoon, Meta decided she couldn’t wait to have a word with Mr. Drexel to arrange for the Learned Ladies’ surprise. Fitzy had mentioned he would like to examine more technical drawings, so she invited him to accompany her. While she would normally be more circumspect, and had no desire to raise false hopes, she was too excited not to tell Mr. Drexel the good news. After all, she wished to assist him in any way possible for many reasons. Besides easing her guilt over Lily’s stubbornness, she needed to thank him for his efforts in regard to Fitzy’s interactions with professional men—not to mention her interest in the outcome of the leak.
She found Fitzy in the schoolroom. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his arms appeared almost white from a thin layer of plaster. His expression seemed far too serious. “Ah, what have you cast today?” She could only see the smooth plaster layer at the top of the mold, which gave her a good excuse to not realize this was the treasured bolt. “From the size, I’d say it’s a cast of a hand.”
“No, don’t be silly,” Fitzy said, poking the smooth top of the plaster to determine if it had dried.
“An apple?”
He looked at her like she had become a simpleton. “I have more imagination, and more skills, than to cast something as easy as an apple.” A streak of plaster across his cheeks moved with his broad smile. “It is a bolt used on the tunnel’s shield.”
“You used all that plaster just to cast a bolt?”
“Ladies are ignorant about bolts and mechanical whatnots. This bolt is the size of Drexel’s fist, maybe larger. Honestly, Meta, you have never seen anything like it. Truly amazing. I cannot wait to show him the final result.”
Meta had never seen him happier. “How long before it sets?”
“It is set now, but I’ll probably need another hour to trim it properly. I don’t want you to see it until it is presentable and professional.” He grabbed a towel and tried to wipe the lingering plaster off his forearms.
Meta took a cloth too and dampened it in the nearby washstand. While he struggled with removing the large amount of plaster on his arm, she gently wiped away the streak and little spots of plaster on his cheeks, forehead, and chin. “Let’s pay a call on Mr. Drexel in an hour then. You can show him your bolt, and I can inform his that the picnic was a success. Indeed, at the monthly meeting, at least three ladies promised funds for the tunnel. But most of all, Lady Sarah spoke with her father and arranged a surprise. I know this news should please Mr. Drexel.”
Fitzy’s eyes brightened. “Oh yes, let’s do. I want to show his father my bolt too. Both men will appreciate it equally, I’m sure.”
Later that day, Fitzy and Meta entered the Drexels’ town house and were shown into the drawing room. Young Mr. Drexel stood by the large desk, tapping his pencil on a drawing. He wore his greatcoat, so he had either just arrived or was ready to leave.
“Right, Mrs. Russell,” Mr. Drexel said as he bowed in proper greeting. “Why am I not surprised to see you here? You have become a fixture, have you not? Greetings, Fitzhenry, always a delight. Exactly to what do I owe the honor of your visit today?”
Meta could not get the words out fast enough. “Well, the ladies were so impressed, you now have three more people interested in buying shares at the next offering. Well? Well?”
His eyes widened, and he shook his head in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“New subscribers—your tunnel—funds—fathers—husbands—they said yes.”
He turned his head sideways and peered down at her feet. “Did you just hop?” He turned to her brother. “Fitzhenry, can you translate your sister for me?”
Before Fitzy could open his mouth, she explained. “The Learned Ladies Society was so impressed after the picnic, three of them will be confirmed subscribers. What do you think about that?”
The smile that broke across his face was not the wicked one. No, this smile had warmth as the main ingredient and could likely charm any observer at twenty paces. “Thank you.” He nodded. “Right, I must admit I had my doubts. Thought I was on a fool’s errand. But it appears I was in error. Thank you again, madam.”
“Oh, but there is more news. Lady Sarah and I have arranged a surprise for you—for the entire Thames Tunnel Company. We would like to schedule a meeting with both Brunels and most of the board present. Can you arrange that?”
“What sort of surprise?”
Fitzy broke into the conversation. “Then it would not be a surprise, sir. Would it?”
Mr. Drexel frowned at Fitzy.
“Oh, sir, I have brought a casting you might be interested in.” He started to unwrap his bolt, but Meta stopped him.
“Let me finish my request first, dear.” She turned to Mr. Drexel. “In fact, I do not plan to leave this residence until I get a promise for what I seek, a meeting with all of the board at the site to receive…visitors.”
“I’m skepti
cal about this plan. Do not mistake me. I’m delighted you managed to obtain more investors. But as I have noted before, if you bring investors by to observe the workings and something adverse happens, like a leak, it may damage our reputation even further. Just yesterday I saw a caricature by Robert Cruikshank mocking our efforts.”
“Please. Trust me.”
He stared at her for at least half a minute.
“I’ll consider it.”
“Thank you. You will not be sorry.”
“I said consider, madam, not agree. Fitzhenry, how do you manage to live in a household full of females?”
“Um, I never thought about that subject before. But now that I’m thinking about it, it’s a great advantage. The food is likely better, isn’t it?”
Mr. Drexel laughed. He then asked to see Fitzy’s bolt and admired her brother’s work without reservation. “Now if the two of you will excuse me, I must be on my way. There is a meeting of the board in an hour, and I am presenting a new plan for a drainage system.”
The door to the drawing room opened, and the older Mr. Drexel entered. “Mrs. Russell, Fitzhenry, I am delighted to see you both. To what do we owe the honor of your call?”
Both Meta and Fitzy eagerly greeted him, but Meta got her words out first.
“We are here to inform your son that we obtained three more investors for the tunnel.”
“Well, I’ll be.” Michael turned to his son. “Congratulations, that should help your promotion.”
Meta had never heard a promotion was at stake. She turned to George. “You did not tell me about a promotion. Is that why you are reluctant to arrange a meeting of the tunnels primaries for our surprise?”
“There is more than my promotion at stake.”
Michael Drexel chuckled. “Ignore George. He sounds surly when something is on his mind. He is just on his way to a meeting of the Tunnel’s board of directors. He sits in my place, since I do not wish to leave my wife alone. She is eagerly looking forward to continuing the ghost story we started yesterday.”