These Tangled Threads

Home > Historical > These Tangled Threads > Page 3
These Tangled Threads Page 3

by Tracie Peterson


  “I understand, but I’m sure there are mill owners who visit London, just as members of the Associates travel between Boston and Lowell.”

  “Those men of importance didn’t know who John Farnsworth was even when he worked for them. I doubt they’ll remember me or bear a grievance after five years.”

  “Some wounds take a long time to heal, especially when they affect the financial investments of powerful people,” Matthew warned. “Remember, I have a stake in your welfare, too. I’m the one who convinced the Associates we could do without you and Taylor for this extended period. If you’ll not consider cautious behavior essential to your own well-being, then consider it a favor to me.”

  John leaned toward Matthew and rested his forearms on his thighs. “If it will cease your worrying, then you have my word I’ll remain alert.”

  “Thank you, John. And on a more pleasant note,” Matthew said, now turning his attention toward Taylor, “I wanted to let you know Kirk and I will be attending a meeting of the Associates next week in Boston. I plan to present your new designs, Taylor. I find them very exciting. I’m certain the owners will be impressed and eager to begin production of them once you’ve returned from England.”

  Taylor attempted to hide his pleasure, not wanting to appear portentous. He had spent a great deal of time on the drawings, discussing them with his uncle as he proceeded to ensure the machinery could be adjusted to accommodate the patterns. When both Addie and Bella had given their delighted approval to the designs, he had finally believed the plans were ready for production. He had anxiously awaited approval, but when none came, he believed they had been determined unacceptable.

  “I’m pleased you like them. I only hope the Associates will share your opinion.”

  John smiled broadly and rose from his chair. “I told you there was nothing to worry over. Those new designs are wonderful, innovative. They can’t help but like them—and if they express concern, Matthew, you need only call upon their wives to change their minds.”

  Matthew gave a hearty laugh. “I showed them to Lilly and she was enchanted, so I know you’re correct on that account, John. If need be, Kirk and I will insist upon interrupting the women in their music room and asking for their opinion,” he agreed.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Taylor said, rising from his chair, “I believe I’ll see if I can locate my bride. We really need to make our departure or we’ll miss our boat.”

  “Certainly, my boy. You don’t want to do that or you’ll be stuck here at home with us old folks.”

  Taylor gave his uncle a lopsided grin before leaving the men to continue their exchange. Stepping into the hallway, he glanced over his shoulder. The two men were once again deep in discussion, his uncle’s brows furrowed and his lips set in a narrow, tight line. Perhaps his uncle John was more concerned about their journey than he’d indicated earlier.

  Bella’s voice pulled him away from his thoughts, and he glanced up the stairway. She was a beautiful vision with her creamy yellow hair tucked under a bonnet trimmed in the same emerald green that was woven into the fabric of her dress. Suddenly spotting Taylor, she graced him with a bright smile as their guests gathered around. Upon reaching the final step, Taylor leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. She blushed uncontrollably, and Taylor knew he would love her forever. John and Matthew joined the crowd, and Taylor’s glance momentarily rested upon his uncle’s face. His thoughts returned to their earlier discussion, and a wave of concern overcame him. Surely this journey wouldn’t put any of them in jeopardy. He attempted to push thoughts of danger from his mind, but Matthew’s words of caution would not be silenced. Taylor looked back at his wife’s smiling face. He fervently prayed this journey would not place Bella in any peril.

  CHAPTER 3

  Boston, Massachusetts

  Tracy Jackson leveled a scowl directed at everyone in the room. Matthew Cheever shifted his gaze to Kirk Boott in an attempt to gauge Boott’s reaction. Tracy was obviously intent on imposing his will upon the other Associates. Kirk’s expression was indecipherable; however, Matthew was certain the stoic mask was a facade, for Kirk’s passion regarding anything that affected Lowell and its paternalistic operation was legendary.

  “Comments, gentlemen? Nathan? Josiah? Kirk—surely you have something to say,” Jackson urged.

  Swirling the small amount of port remaining in his glass, Kirk shook his head. “I’ll defer.” He tipped the glass to his lips and finished his drink.

  Josiah Baines cleared his throat. “Well, I vote to remain practical and move slowly. You all know I believe in the railroad, but I certainly don’t think we need to consider steam locomotion. We’re talking about transporting goods between Boston and Lowell. We can use horse-drawn wagons pulled on rail just as effectively.”

  “Now, why would we even want to consider such a proposition, Josiah?” Tracy rose from his chair and gave Baines an icy stare before turning toward the other men. “Could we all consider being a little more forward thinking?”

  “There’s no need to become offensive, Tracy. You asked for our opinions, but it’s obvious you really don’t want them unless they concur with your own. Well, I for one, have always believed in carefully calculating my risks and not taking unnecessary chances investing money.”

  “I haven’t noticed any unwillingness to share in the vast profits that have come from any of my previous suggestions or proposals, Josiah. You’re always against me in the vote but first in line for your money.”

  “Now, now, gentlemen,” Nathan Appleton interrupted, “let’s remain civilized. We can discuss this without coming to odds among ourselves. I understand your excitement over the prospect of using steam locomotion, Tracy. However, some of us aren’t as informed and enlightened. A calm examination of ideas will be much more helpful than exchanging barbs, don’t you think?”

  The cue was obvious to all in attendance, and Tracy nodded his agreement. “My apologies, Josiah. As you know, I tend to be overzealous when I’m trying to make a point.”

  “Apology accepted,” Josiah replied. “Anyone else care to voice an opinion? Surely some other member of this group has a view he’d wish to share.”

  Nathan rubbed his jaw and nodded. “You say Robert Stephenson had good results with the steam engine on the Liverpool and Manchester Railroad, and I don’t doubt your word, Tracy. But you must admit that making the huge financial investment required for steam locomotion is a bold stand, especially on an invention that hasn’t proven the test of time. I’m having difficulty justifying the capital outlay based upon the population and commerce of Lowell. We can’t compare the cities of Boston and Lowell to Manchester and Liverpool. Such a concept would be foolhardy, for our numbers are vastly dissimilar, both in trade and inhabitants.”

  “Our primary concern is to have reliable transportation during the winter months when the canals are frozen,” Thomas Clayborn commented.

  Tracy poured himself another glass of port before turning his attention to Clayborn. “We need to think beyond today’s needs. If we don’t make plans for the future before it arrives, we’ll never be the forerunner, the one to set the standard. I, for one, prefer taking the lead rather than playing catch-up.”

  “Come now, my good man. We’re hardly a bunch of backward bumpkins. Look at what we’ve accomplished over the past few years. I think you’ll have to agree that all of us have willingly cooperated with most anything you’ve presented. You ought not take us to task the first time we question a major decision,” Clayborn rebutted.

  Matthew glanced out the tall, narrow window where a golden autumn sun now rested upon the distant horizon. He wondered if an amicable agreement could possibly be reached among the members, and although he had a definite stance, the only opinions that mattered here were those of the Associates. Matthew’s stomach emitted a loud growl and he quickly pressed a hand to his midsection, hoping to silence the noise.

  Kirk shifted in his seat. “I’m going to weigh in on Tracy’s side
this time. Personally, I believe his concept will transform Lowell from a mercantile community to an industrial powerhouse—and create extraordinary wealth in the process. This is no time for diffidence. If we move forward with the railroad, we’ll no longer need to depend upon navigability of the canals. There’s no doubt steam is the direction of the future. I don’t see how we can decide against Tracy’s proposal and continue to think of ourselves as capitalists.”

  Clayborn rubbed the back of his neck as though the massaging motion would clear his head. “You’re probably correct, Kirk, but I think I’m going to need some additional time to decide. Tracy, if you could supply us with some definitive costs, it would be helpful.”

  “I think I can manage that within the next few weeks. Again, I apologize to those of you who think I’ve been overly aggressive with my proposal.”

  “Well, at least we haven’t been subjected to William Thurston’s legendary ranting about the Irish and their blight upon the town. I’d much rather listen to your fresh ideas than one of Thurston’s tirades. That man’s absence as a member of the Associates is refreshing as far as I’m concerned,” Josiah replied. A murmuring of agreement and a few guffaws followed the remark.

  “I concur with your assessment, but I would certainly like to see that man brought to justice,” Nathan stated. “Who would have ever thought someone as inept as William Thurston could have eluded the police and kept them at bay for this long? Rather unfair, I think, that J. P. Green is in jail while Thurston is probably involved in some other illegal scheme.”

  Josiah nodded. “However, with Thurston’s egotistical nature, there’s no telling when he might reappear and attempt to do further harm to the Corporation. My poor wife still can’t believe William was in the business of kidnapping and selling Yankee and Irish girls into the slave market. Of course, I didn’t reveal all of the unpleasant details, nor did I tell her that he hadn’t been captured. I fear she would have taken to her bed.”

  Henry Thorne scratched his head and grinned. “I think all this talk of William Thurston is nonsense. He associated with thugs and ruffians and has likely come to an early death. I’d guess he’s probably rotting in a shallow grave somewhere. Besides, even if he has escaped harm, I doubt if he’d be foolish enough to show his face in Lowell again.”

  Kirk selected a cigar from the box that was being passed and carefully clipped the end. He inhaled deeply on the imported extravagance before expelling a large cloud of grayish-blue smoke. Lips pursed into a tight pucker, he watched in obvious satisfaction as the haze lifted toward the ceiling. “Let’s don’t forget the matter of the doctor,” he reminded the others.

  “Thank you, Kirk. The matter had slipped my mind,” Nathan replied. “For those of you who may not know, Dr. Ivan Ketter has accepted our offer to set up his practice in Lowell the first of the year. With Dr. Fontaine’s departure some months ago and now Dr. Barnard retiring at the end of the year, the town will be without a physician. Dr. Ketter seems a good choice, and Matthew has agreed to find suitable accommodations. We had hoped he could commence his duties immediately. Unfortunately, he’s advised me he can’t accept the position until January.”

  “I take it Dr. Ketter isn’t interested in purchasing Dr. Barnard’s house?” Josiah inquired.

  Kirk flicked the ash from his cigar. “Dr. Barnard isn’t interested in selling. He plans to remain in Lowell. There are those of us who prefer Lowell to Boston,” he replied with an amused grin.

  “My apologies. The question wasn’t meant to be offensive,” Josiah replied.

  “No offense taken. Why don’t we adjourn? I’m famished,” Kirk said as he snuffed out his cigar.

  CHAPTER 4

  England

  October 5, 1833

  Bella quivered, unable to contain her excitement. After weeks at sea, the sails of the Sea Sprite were now finally furled and the passengers were jostling each other for a better view of England’s sights. A sharp elbow in her ribs and a heavy foot coming down upon her stamped kid shoe caused Bella to grimace and then move closer to Taylor’s side. He glanced down and gave her a broad smile.

  As a cool ocean breeze swirled across the deck of the boat, Taylor encircled her waist with his arm, pulling her close. “I can’t believe we’ve finally arrived. It seems an eternity since I left England and my family,” he said. “Of course, with Rowland and Edward off at sea and Beatrice now married to a Scotsman and living in the north, it leaves only my grandfather Farnsworth, grandmother Manning, and Elinor for you to meet.”

  “If we’re very fortunate, one of your brothers may be home between voyages, and perhaps your grandmother has written your sister Beatrice and she’ll come for a short visit while we’re here.”

  Taylor gave her a faint smile. “You are an optimistic young woman. I suppose anything is possible, but I’m not holding out much hope of seeing them. I fear Elinor will have to suffice.”

  A sigh of exasperation escaped Bella’s lips, and she gave him a look of mock indignation. “You should be every bit as anxious to see your little sister as your other siblings,” she lectured.

  “Elinor can be a pesky child, constantly vying for attention. Unless she’s changed—which I seriously doubt—I’m certain you’ll soon come to share my opinion.”

  “Little girls are known to adore their older brothers. You should feel honored. And she has grown older. Her letters to you have been enchanting.”

  Taylor made a snorting sound and then pointed toward the shoreline as the small ship drew closer to town. “I can hardly wait to show you the sights in London. Some of my fondest memories are the yearly visits to London with Uncle John. The summer each of us turned ten and every year thereafter, he would treat my brothers and me to a few days in London. What fun we would have.”

  “And your sisters? Were they ever included?”

  A chuckle escaped his lips. “You’re going to give me your equality speech again, aren’t you?”

  “No, but just remember—when we have our daughters, I’ll expect equal treatment for each of them.”

  “Each of them? I didn’t realize you were planning such a large family. However, since you are, I’d like to put in my bid for several boys.”

  “What’s this I hear, young man? You’re already expecting to father several sons?” John asked while maneuvering Addie close to Bella on the deck.

  “To be honest, it was more a discussion on equality that somehow took a turn,” Taylor admitted. “Thankfully we’ve finally arrived and can call a cessation to this conversation.”

  John laughed and slapped his nephew on the back. “I’d think that procreation is a topic you’d be happy to discuss with your wife.”

  “John! Such talk.” Addie gave him a stern look of admonition.

  Her husband smiled. “Well, we’re all married, and there’s . . .”

  Addie’s eyebrows arched and her lips formed a tight line. She moved her head back and forth in a quick, definitive movement. The conversation ceased.

  Bella stood beside Addie as they waited patiently while the men located their trunks. John motioned them forward, having wasted no time securing transportation to his father’s residence. Once the trunks were loaded, John gave the driver the address and settled down beside Addie.

  “I’m so excited I can hardly contain myself,” Bella said, gazing out the window. “I keep thinking of all the places you’ve told me about.”

  Taylor nodded but couldn’t get a word in edgewise as Addie took over the conversation. “John has shared so many descriptions of places. I just want to see them all.”

  The men chuckled as Bella adamantly agreed. “Yes. It hardly seems there will be time enough for everything.”

  “Then we’ll simply have to come back at a later time,” Taylor said, patting Bella’s hand, “for a person can do only so much in a day.”

  The carriage driver maneuvered them through the busy traffic while Bella and Addie continued to chatter and look for anything that matched the descriptio
ns their husbands had given during their storytelling. Addie leaned forward and peeked out of the carriage. “Oh, look! That’s St. Paul’s Cathedral, isn’t it?” She looked to John for confirmation. He followed her gaze and nodded.

  Addie clapped her gloved hands together. “This is so exciting. I must pen a letter to Mintie and let her know we’ve arrived safely and that I’ve already had a view of this glorious cathedral.”

  John emitted a loud guffaw. “The poor woman will likely keep herself in a state of distress the entire time you’re here in England.”

  “Now, John, it’s not kind to laugh at her. After all, Mintie is my sister,” Addie replied.

  “I know, I know. But you’d think the woman would finally accept the fact that the United States and England are no longer at war. She continues to see spies and traitors at every turn. Such nonsense!”

  “She’s gotten better. After all, she attended our wedding even though she had been certain you were a spy back when you were living at her boardinghouse,” Addie replied with a chuckle.

  “You see? That’s exactly what I mean. The minute Mintie realized I had recently arrived from England, she was certain I was in the country to spy on behalf of the English. Besides, we both know that if she could have talked you out of our marriage, she’d have done so. She conceded only after she realized you wouldn’t change your mind,” he reminded her.

  “True, but at least Mintie accepted the defeat graciously,” Addie said as the carriage came to a halt in front of a row of Georgian town houses. The white panel door, lined on either side by pillar-type facades, offered a cheery welcome behind the walkway’s wrought iron gate. Addie was already on the edge of her seat.

  “Oh, do hurry and help us down, John.”

  The men quickly complied, alighting the carriage in short order. Taylor stepped aside to allow John to help Addie down.

 

‹ Prev