Ewan shook his head. “I think I should go with you. My horse is still at Woodfield Manor. I can escort you the rest of the way and ride my horse back. It won’t take long.” He glanced at his aunt, but she merely pursed her lips in a tight knot and remained silent.
“I’ll have Zeke bring your horse over. He won’t mind. That way you can return to Bartlett with your aunt and uncle.”
The knot in Mrs. Crothers’s lips relaxed and then disappeared. “I think that’s the best idea, Ewan. Come along and let me have a look at the hovel your uncle has provided for me.” Sarcasm coated her words.
Before turning to leave, Laura said, “Should you have any questions after you’ve toured your new home, please stop at Woodfield Manor. I’m sure my mother would enjoy visiting with you, Mrs. Crothers.”
“Indeed we will. In fact, you may count on it. I believe your lawyer is going to be speaking with your mother about several matters that need attention.”
Laura forced a smile and strode away without another word. She didn’t want to make an unkind remark, but when she couldn’t think of a pleasant response, she decided it best to head toward home. No need to fuel the woman’s fire of hostility.
When she entered the house, muffled voices drifted from the parlor and she followed the sound.
Her mother looked up and smiled. “Ah, Laura. I’m pleased to see you’re back. I was beginning to get a little worried. Winston said he’d stopped and spoken with you. We both thought you would have returned before now.”
Why had Winston needlessly worried her mother? “There was no need for concern. Besides, I’m sure Winston would have sought me had he been concerned about my safety.” She turned her narrowed eyes on him. “Wouldn’t you, Winston?”
“Yes, of course. And where is Mr. McKay? Has he ridden off without as much as a thank-you or good-bye for your mother?”
Laura crossed the room and sat down beside her mother. “No. His horse is still tied out front. His aunt and uncle met us on the path, and he went back to the house with them. I told him I would have Zeke take the horse over to the other house.”
“I do hope she’ll like it.” Laura’s mother set aside her needlework. “Winston tells me he had quite a time with Mrs. Crothers after they returned to Bartlett. She’s insisting that I lower the price they had already agreed to pay. What do you think?”
“I’m your lawyer, Mrs. Woodfield, and it’s my advice that you lower the price and we complete this matter as expeditiously as possible. There is no pleasing that woman unless she gets her way.”
“I disagree.” Laura folded her hands in her lap and met Winston’s gaze. “They had every opportunity to go over all terms of the contract. The fact that they didn’t inquire about the house is no fault of ours. Surely she realizes we would have been asking a far greater price had this house been included.”
“Do you think I haven’t already told her that, Laura? I am, after all, accustomed to negotiating contracts.”
Laura frowned. Winston’s condescending tone startled her. “I’m aware you have a greater knowledge of contract law, Winston, but I don’t think Mrs. Crothers comprehends the fact that our sale price is fair.”
“Laura wasn’t questioning your ability as a lawyer, Winston. She’s merely stating what we all know: Mr. and Mrs. Crothers hope to gain the very most for their money.” Mrs. Woodfield patted Laura’s hand. “Of course, Laura and I want a fair price for our property, and I believe that is what we received under the terms of our contract.”
Winston frowned and shook his head. “But Mr. Crothers signed the contract believing this house was included, so I think you should renegotiate, Mrs. Woodfield.”
The older woman leaned forward. “Perhaps you should return to Bartlett, Winston. If Mr. and Mrs. Crothers return, I don’t think there’s any need for a lawyer. I believe we’ll be able to come to an agreement that will satisfy all of us.”
Winston argued against such a plan, but when Laura’s mother didn’t relent, he stalked from the room. “When this entire sale falls apart, don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”
Mrs. Woodfield followed him to the door. “To tell you the truth, I don’t understand why you think the sale could go amiss, Winston. We have a signed and witnessed contract that you prepared. With your expertise, I’m sure any court would find in my favor.” Mrs. Woodfield handed him his hat. “I think that after I’ve spoken with Mr. Crothers, he’ll see things my way.”
Winston shook his head. “You may convince him, but you’ll never convince his wife.”
Laura didn’t want to agree with Winston but feared he could be right. Maybe they should lower their price a little. Then again, she’d wait and see what transpired when Mr. and Mrs. Crothers arrived on their doorstep.
When a knock finally sounded at the front door, Catherine was preparing supper. Laura jumped to her feet. “I’ll go to the door, Catherine.”
Mrs. Woodfield patted her hair. “I was beginning to think they weren’t going to come. Shall I invite them for supper?”
Laura shook her head. “Not immediately. Let’s first see what they have to say.” She hurried down the hallway to the front door and stopped short when she saw Ewan and Mrs. Crothers departing in the carriage. “Mr. Crothers, your wife is not joining us?”
He doffed his cap. “Nay. Ewan said you wanted to speak with me, and I thought it might be better if my wife went back to town. She has a way about her that sometimes makes conversation difficult, especially when it comes to business.”
Mrs. Woodfield waved him inside. “Do come in. I’m glad Ewan passed along my message.” She gestured toward Laura. “I believe you saw my daughter not long ago.”
“Aye, that I did.” He nodded to Laura and then sat down. “The other house is to my liking, though it doesn’t much please my wife. She wants something grand like this house. But the frame house will suit us until we build.” He cleared his throat. “I think you’d have to agree that a man who thinks he’s buying this fine mansion and then ends up with a small frame house might feel like he’d been cheated a bit, wouldn’t you?”
Laura stiffened, but her mother only smiled. “I am not sure how I would feel, Mr. Crothers. I do know you had every opportunity to examine the contract, and you could have easily had another lawyer look at the papers and explain them, if you’d so desired.”
“I don’t hold much stock in lawyers. Most of the ones I’ve met are just like that Hawkins fella. They say what they think you want to hear, but later deny what they told ya. I’ve been around my share of double-dealers, and Hawkins fits in with the rest of those charlatans.”
As Laura listened to Mr. Crothers disparage Winston, a surge of irritation swelled inside her like a river overflowing its banks. “Mr. Hawkins is a fine lawyer, and he’s highly respected by members of the surrounding area. In fact, he has been nominated to run for a seat in our state senate.”
Mr. Crothers tipped his head to the side. “Looks like I stepped on your toes, Miss Woodfield. You sound like a woman in love. I wouldn’t have spoken so plain if I’d known you and Mr. Hawkins were . . .” He let the sentence hang there like a preacher waiting to hear I do.
“I defended Mr. Hawkins because your generalizations do not apply to him. He prepared a contract that was fair. You read and signed it. Rather than making him a charlatan, I believe you’ve shown yourself to be a poor businessman.”
“Laura!” Mrs. Woodfield frowned and shook her head. “Mr. Crothers is our guest, and you will treat him with respect. If you cannot do so, please go out to the kitchen and help Catherine, or go up to your room.”
Laura leaned back in her chair. “I plan to stay here. I won’t say anything more, but I do want to listen so that Mr. Crothers can’t later accuse you of double-dealing.”
Hugh laughed. “You’re a feisty young woman, Miss Woodfield, but you’re no match for the likes of me. I don’t plan on anyone double-dealing this evening, but I do plan on getting matters settled so that everyone is happy. R
ight now, my wife is unhappy, and so am I.”
“Perhaps I can help with that, Mr. Crothers. Though I don’t feel you’ve been cheated, I do believe I can help ease your unhappiness.”
“You going to give me some of my money back?” He rubbed his thick hands together.
“No, not one cent. However, I do have two fine Percherons that are trained to work the pug mill. You are welcome to look them over. They’re worth their weight in gold in that brickyard—unless you’ve already purchased horses.” Her mother’s lips curved in a gentle smile.
“No matter how fine the horses, I don’t know that they make up for the difference between the two houses. No offense, but I was hoping to hear something better than what you’ve offered.”
Laura clenched her fists, then forced them to relax. Open and closed, open and closed. Over and over, she repeated the movement until she regained a sense of calm. Her father had taught her the maneuver years ago. Though Laura had never imagined her father a man with a quick temper, he’d told her otherwise. When he’d seen her become angry with a worker at the brickyard, he’d gently chastised her and then explained his past. The facts had alarmed her. Never had she pictured her father attempting to resolve disagreements with his fists, but she’d learned that during his early years he’d given and received many a blow. Only after he’d studied the Bible and made a choice to follow the teachings of Jesus had he changed.
Her father had gone on to demonstrate the method he’d learned to use when anger began to take hold of him. The same movement she was now using to control her temper and her tongue. Though she liked to justify her temper by telling herself she’d inherited it from her father, she knew that wasn’t true. Resorting to anger was a choice that generally ended with poor results, another fact her father had explained to her years ago.
Laura’s temper didn’t flare when she was being wronged. But when she believed others were being treated unjustly, she was quick to anger. When the residents of western Virginia voted to pull away and form the state of West Virginia in support of the Union, she’d celebrated with her parents at a huge gathering in Wheeling, thankful to be among those who opposed the unjust practice of slavery. Her anger had swelled and she’d pressed local and state officials to action when the widows and orphans and returning soldiers of the War Between the States needed aid and none was forthcoming.
Although Mr. Crothers’s actions were insignificant by comparison, the man was attempting to take advantage of her mother. His tasteless scheming stuck in her craw.
How she’d love to tell Mr. Crothers that Charlie and Jack were more than any other person would offer once a contract had been signed. Instead, she tightened her lips into a thin line and continued the exercise with her hands.
Laura’s mother cleared her throat. “I believe the only other thing my daughter and I can offer you is a great deal of advice on how to make your brickworks successful.” Mr. Crothers’s mouth dropped open at the suggestion, but Laura’s mother quickly continued. “Before you hasten to tell me that what I’m offering is of little worth, let me explain something to you. While I’m sure both you and Mr. McKay are capable of operating a brickyard, there is more to becoming successful than knowing how to burn excellent bricks. Laura and I can provide you with the names of men who are well trained in brickwork. We can also introduce you to my husband’s business contacts in Fairmont, Wheeling, Pittsburgh, and Allegheny City—men who decide from whom they will purchase bricks. And I’m sure Laura would be willing to provide your bookkeeper and timekeepers with any assistance needed until they’ve become accustomed to their positions.” Laura’s mother leaned back in her chair. “Does any of this sound appealing to you, Mr. Crothers?”
“Aye. There’s no denying we could use a bit of help securing contracts. If we can spend the winter months meetin’ with these men you mentioned, we could begin making money come spring. I do believe my wife would take to the idea of meeting some of the wives, as well.”
Laura flinched. Mrs. Crothers and her haughty attitude wouldn’t enhance Mr. Crothers’s opportunity to make a good impression and secure contracts. Then again, Mr. Crothers didn’t possess much refinement, either. Did her mother truly expect these meetings to go well?
“For these initial meetings, I believe Mr. McKay would be a better choice. I know you are the owner, but I sense that Mr. McKay possesses a greater degree of passion about the brickworks. His excitement is rather spontaneous, and I think he would make a fine impression upon these men.”
“And y’er saying I would not?” Mr. Crothers tugged on his vest. “There’s an insult if ever I heard one.”
Mrs. Woodfield twirled a handkerchief between her fingers, a sure sign her nerves were taking hold. At times it seemed her mother had become stalwart and strong, able to make difficult decisions and meet criticism without faltering. At other times, with only a word or two, men like Mr. Crothers managed to obliterate all the gumption she’d acquired since her husband’s death.
Though she’d agreed to remain quiet, Laura couldn’t sit by and do nothing. “My mother would never intentionally insult anyone, Mr. Crothers. She’s merely offering you her very best advice, and you must admit that you and Mr. McKay possess very different dispositions.” She watched Mr. Crothers for any sign of offense, but seeing none, she continued. “Given Mr. McKay’s thoughtful temperament, Mother believes he would best represent your brickworks. Of course, you are not bound to take her advice.”
Her mother nodded in agreement. “Laura is right. You may do as you wish.” She inhaled a deep breath. “But I know I am correct about this.”
Mr. Crothers slapped his thigh and guffawed. “I think you may be as spirited as your daughter, Mrs. Woodfield.”
“I don’t believe that’s true.” The aroma of roasted beef drifted into the room, and Mr. Crothers lifted his nose in the air. Mrs. Woodfield glanced toward the dining room. “Would you care to join us for supper, Mr. Crothers? We haven’t completed our discussion, and Catherine will be unhappy if the meal is ruined.”
“I thank you for the invitation. ’Twould be my pleasure to join you. I’m sure the rest of my family will have finished supper and gone to bed by the time I return to Bartlett.”
Laura winced at his response. Did Mr. Crothers intend to remain and wear her mother down so she would relent and agree to return a portion of his money? If so, he didn’t know the women of Woodfield Manor.
Chapter 7
Ewan hurried down the hotel steps and into the dining room, eager to visit with his uncle. After supper last night, he’d waited in the lobby, but when his uncle hadn’t returned by nine o’clock, Ewan surmised the older man had chosen to spend the night at their new house. He caught sight of his uncle seated at one of the dining tables and was pleased to see he was alone. Whenever Margaret and Kathleen were present, discussions regarding the brickworks quickly changed to talk of houses or furniture.
His uncle waved him into the hotel restaurant and motioned to an empty chair next to him. “Sit down, my boy. We need to talk.”
Before Ewan had settled in his chair, a waitress hurried to the table and filled his coffee cup while his uncle slathered a biscuit with butter. The man appeared in good spirits, a sign things had gone his way yesterday afternoon.
After swallowing a bite of the biscuit, he wiped his mouth. “One thing is for sure, Ewan: Business dealings with men are a lot easier than with women. I’m thinkin’ those two women had no need of a lawyer. They know how to fend for themselves.”
Ewan’s earlier optimism was now replaced by dread. His stomach roiled and he swallowed hard to keep the acidic taste of his morning coffee at bay. He was sure to receive a rebuke for suggesting the meeting with Mrs. Woodfield. Yet to ignore the woman’s request would have been offensive.
“I’m sorry to hear you had a difficult time. So what do you plan to do? Meet with them again today?”
Uncle Hugh shook his head. “No need. I stayed last night, and we finally came to a meetin’ of
the minds. There’s no way I’ll convince ’em they should be giving me some of my money back, but I managed to talk them out of two good horses for the pug mill.” He finished off his eggs and downed a gulp of coffee. “Also got ’em to give me names of experienced workers still in the area. Miss Woodfield agreed to help with the books and timekeeping for a spell. It took a bit of persuading, but she finally agreed we could take a look at all their records and contracts, too.”
Ewan didn’t mention that most of that had been offered to him yesterday. His uncle wanted him to think he’d come out ahead in the negotiations, and Ewan would let him. “Sounds like you struck a good deal, Uncle Hugh. There’s real value in having access to those contracts and business papers from the Woodfield Brickworks.”
His uncle stroked his mustache. “’Course there is. That’s why I went ahead and settled.” His uncle leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “One more thing. They’re willing to give us introductions to some of the big businessmen up in Wheeling and Pittsburgh.” He grinned. “How’s that for twisting their arms? I don’t think they were real happy, but I insisted they take you along with ’em on their next visit. That way you can start to negotiate contracts before next spring. You’ll need to be back here once we begin firing the kilns, but there’s no reason you can’t spend some time away from Bartlett during the winter.”
His uncle had certainly put his own slant on the negotiations. He wondered what Mrs. Woodfield had said to convince his uncle. “So you don’t want to travel to Wheeling or Pittsburgh to meet with the contractors? You think it should be me?”
“Aye. That’s what I said, isn’t it?” He withdrew a paper from his pocket. “This here’s a list of clay cutters and other workers.” His uncle pushed the sheet of paper across the table. “We need to go and see about hiring as many of them as we can get. Thought you could begin today. The names with a check beside ’em are the men who still live in these parts.”
The Brickmaker's Bride Page 7