The Lord of Lost Causes

by Kate Pearce

  The silence stretched between them, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the ticking clock before Francis let out his breath and turned away from the appalled pity in her eyes.

  “I don’t feel like fucking you after all, Mrs. Harding. Good night.”

  He gathered up his clothes and escaped back into his office where he hurriedly dressed again. He’d never told anyone exactly what he’d had to do to survive before and had no idea why he’d blurted it out to Mrs. Harding. The fact that he’d shared such a truth with her made him uneasy. He didn’t remember the last time he’d felt vulnerable, and he didn’t like it.

  He grabbed his hat and put it on his head and walked toward the stairs.

  “Captain Grafton?”

  He stopped walking and looked over his shoulder as Ruby came toward him. She looked as if she had been crying.

  “I didn’t mean to cause any harm. I was just jealous that Jon still likes Caroline more than me.”

  “Aren’t we all?” Francis muttered as he continued down the stairs without properly replying. Ruby would probably go and check on her sister to make sure he hadn’t beaten Caroline up in the grand tradition of Three Coins. He suspected he was the one who had emerged the loser in that particular encounter. But what he intended to do with that moment of clarity he wasn’t yet sure.

  He wasn’t used to examining his conscience or defending his choices. He’d made his decision to survive and never looked back. The notion that one determined woman could get under his skin and make him question himself was distinctly unpleasant.

  He walked into the kitchens at the George, took a bottle of brandy from the cellar and retired to his bedchamber where he intended to drink himself into such a stupor that he wouldn’t remember a single thing the next morning.

  Chapter 13

  “Captain Grafton?”

  Francis looked over his shoulder as he exited the bank and discovered Mr. Pilcher, the mill owner attempting to attract his attention. He had a terrible headache, and no real desire to speak to the man, but the common courtesy drilled into him during a lifetime dictated he pause to listen.

  “Yes. Mr. Pilcher? How can I assist you?”

  The older man came through the door and joined Francis in the square.

  “I wanted to inform you that there is a meeting being held at the Methodist Church Hall tonight where a known radical from London is going to speak.”

  “Who exactly would that be?”

  “A scoundrel of the first order who should be transported for life!” Mr. Pilcher snarled. “Stirring up my workforce, making them question their betters. I won’t stand for it, and neither will the town council.”

  “As I wasn’t expecting to attend such a meeting, I wonder why you are drawing it to my attention,” Francis asked, eager to return to the matter in hand and get on with his day.

  “We have alerted the local forces of the law, and the military, and Sir Ian will prosecute anyone who is deemed to have behaved in a treasonable or revolutionary manner.” Mr. Pilcher leaned in closer. “I have warned my workforce not to attend. You should avoid the square this evening and make sure your employers are not caught up in the melee.”

  “I will indeed do so.” Francis paused. “Are you expecting a riot?”

  Mr. Pilcher smiled. “Let’s just say that there are certain elements within the crowd who might cause one and allow us to get rid of many of the rabble rousers in Millcastle in one fell swoop.”

  “Paid agitators? How very unsporting of you, Mr. Pilcher. Who in particular are you keen to get rid of?”

  Mr. Pilcher reeled off a list of names. Francis recognized precisely three of them. He tipped his hat to the older man.

  “Well, I must be off. I will make sure I am not out and about this evening. Thank you for the information.”

  He walked back across to the George where he would make sure Nancy and Ned were aware of the potential for upcoming trouble. Mr. Pilcher’s glee at the idea of his workers being prosecuted and transported had left a bad taste in Francis’s mouth. He didn’t particularly believe that universal suffrage was important, but he didn’t appreciate the way the elite of Millcastle intended to deal with their own workforce.

  Nancy looked up as he came into the kitchen.

  “You back again? Did you forget your head?” She snorted. “Although, considering how much brandy you drank last night, I’m impressed you are standing upright.”

  He quickly repeated what Mr. Pilcher had told him, and Nancy’s face reddened.

  “What a disgusting old man he is—with his penchant for fifteen year old virgins and his prissy churchgoing ways.”

  “Likes them young, does he?” Francis winced. “I can’t say it surprises me, but regardless of the hypocrisy of the source, please do your best not to get caught up in this matter.”

  “I hear you, Captain.” Nancy pummeled her dough with unnecessary force. “You’d better tell the Delisle girls to stay in. If she can find a way to sneak into the hall, Ruby is always at those meetings.”

  “How do you know?” Francis inquired.

  “Because I’ve seen her arm in arm with Mr. Ford the overseer a couple of times. And in the eyes of the mill owners, he’s one of the chief agitators.” She thumped her dough again. “As if helping people learn to read and write is a bad thing.”

  “So I hear.” Francis turned to the stairs.

  “Is it true that you’re planning to throw out all your tenants in Three Coins?”

  Francis went still and looked over his shoulder. “Where the devil did you hear that?”

  Nancy raised an eyebrow. “So it’s true then?”

  “Who told you?” Francis repeated his question.

  “Some of the mill workers were muttering about it last night in the bar. They said one of the overseers had mentioned something.”

  “Then maybe they shouldn’t listen to gossip.” Francis turned back. “Is Mr. O’Brien on the premises?”

  “Yes, he’s upstairs in your old office.”

  “Then I’ll go and speak to him. Perhaps on his rounds today he can warn my tenants about the likely outcome of this meeting and urge them to stay away.”

  His reluctance to return to his new office was entirely due to his reluctance to encounter Mrs. Harding, but he’d have to speak to her and her sisters to ensure their safety. He paused on the stairs. The only overseer he knew by name at any of the mills happened to be Mr. Ford—the man Caroline had been closeted with on the previous day. Had she somehow found out about his deal with the railroad company? He’d hardly kept it a secret.

  Had she betrayed him to Mr. Ford?

  A cold anger gripped him as he considered all the possibilities and could only come up with negatives. Betrayal never sat easily with him and from this particular source? Francis went into his old office and Mr. O’Brien stood up to greet him. He’d leave it as late as possible and hope that maybe Mrs. Harding might be busy elsewhere. If that made him a coward he was perfectly willing to admit it. When he did face her, he intended to be fully prepared.

  “Mrs. Harding?”

  Caroline eyed the veiled figure in black who had asked to speak to her in the shop.

  “Yes? How can I help you?”

  The woman lifted the veil to reveal her familiar pale features.

  “Miss Rebecca Harding,” Caroline almost took a step back. “If you have come to berate me again, please don’t bother.”

  “I came to tell you that my father is dead.”

  “I am sorry for your loss,” Caroline murmured the words automatically. “I didn’t realize he was unwell.”

  “We didn’t realize he was, either. He had a heart attack in bed two nights ago and died shortly after the doctor arrived.” Miss Harding dabbed her eyes with a black edged handkerchief. “As you might imagine, it was a horrible shock for Mama and for me.”

  “Indeed,” Caroline replied. “I will write to your mother expressing my condolences. I am sure my late husband would have wanted th
at.”

  Miss Harding drew a quick breath. “I wanted to ask if you would come to the funeral.”

  “Forgive me, but why?” Caroline asked. “Your father made it very clear what he thought of me and how he valued my family.”

  “And my mother and I did not agree with his decision. We begged him not to turn you away but father was adamant.” Miss Harding met her gaze, suddenly reminding Caroline of her late husband. “We would like you to come for my brother’s sake, and for us.”

  “I will have to think about it,” Caroline said carefully. “Perhaps you might send me a note of the time and day of the funeral.”

  “I will certainly do that and thank you for not dismissing the notion out of hand.” Miss Harding managed to find a smile. “After the funeral, there will be a gathering at our home and, of course the reading of his will.” She hesitated. “Our solicitor asked if you could be present for that. I have no idea why.”

  Caroline curtsied. She could only imagine her father-in-law somehow wished to harangue her from beyond the grave. It would be just like him.

  “As I said, please send me the details and I will see if I can get the time off work.”

  “Thank you.” Miss Harding curtsied in return and drew her veil down over her bonnet again. “I appreciate you seeing me.”

  Caroline saw Miss Harding to her carriage, and then walked slowly into the back of the shop where her mother was busy with her embroidery.

  “What did that woman want?” Marie asked.

  “It was Miss Harding. Her father has just died.”

  “Good riddance,” Marie poked her needle into the satin. “She and her family treated us abominably.”

  Caroline perched on the corner of the table. “She wants me to attend the funeral and the reading of the will.”

  “Really?” Marie looked up her interest sparked by the mention of the will. “I assume the mother just wishes you to appear so that they don’t look like they abandoned their only son’s wife.”

  “That’s probably it.” Caroline sighed. “But I feel that Nigel would’ve expected me to attend.”

  “He’s dead, Caroline, and he made completely inadequate provision for you by not updating his will. He left us in a terrible situation.”

  The fact that her mother had spent all the money left to her by her late husband and her daughters’ dowries leaving them with nothing seemed to have conveniently been forgotten.

  “She said she would send me a formal invitation. I think I’ll wait and decide what to do when it arrives.” Caroline stood and brushed down her skirt. “Now I must get on. There are the monthly accounts to deal with.”

  She went back up the stairs where Captain Grafton’s office door stood open. He hadn’t appeared yet, and it was almost midday. Had their last encounter finally convinced him not to bed her any longer? He’d been furious with her, and yet she’d never felt quite so intimate with him as when he’d told her about his past. He’d hate himself for revealing anything so personal to her. She already knew that.

  “Ah, Mrs. Harding, just the person I wished to speak to.”

  She jumped as his voice came from behind her and moved quickly to one side so that he could get into his office.

  “Come in and sit down.”

  She did as he asked, covertly studying his face as she took the chair in front of his desk. He didn’t sit, but loomed over her, which made her feel at a disadvantage.

  He took a piece of paper from out of his pocket and placed it on the desk.

  “I meant to give you this the other day.”

  Caroline made no move to take the document, and he continued talking.

  “It’s a note confirming that your debt to me is paid in full.”

  “How can that be true?” Caroline blinked at him. “I’ve only been working for you for six months.”

  He shrugged. “I took into account not only the hours you worked for me, but the savings I have accrued from your honesty. In truth, they far exceed the paltry sum you owed me.”

  There was a tension in his body at odds with the calmness on his face, which made her nervous.

  “Are you dispensing with my services?” Caroline asked slowly, her heart beating so hard that she felt dizzy.

  “Not all of them.” He paused. “I would appreciate you remaining as my bookkeeper. I expect to be leaving for London next week, and I doubt I’ll return within the next six months. I will pay you an excellent salary for your continued diligence.”

  “What of your business commitments in Millcastle?”

  “Mr. O’Brien will take care of those.” He picked up the paper, brought it around the desk and dropped it on her lap. “If you need to communicate with me you can send any correspondence through him.”

  Caroline stared down at the letter until the figures swirled in front of her eyes. He was giving her everything that six months ago she had prayed for, and yet it felt terribly wrong.

  “Why?” she blurted out. “Why are you doing this?”

  He frowned. “I am not throwing you out of your lodgings, and despite the circumstances, I am keeping you on as my bookkeeper. What right do you have to be upset?”

  “What circumstances?” Caroline asked. “That I disagreed with you, that you told me things about yourself that you would prefer to have kept private? I will never betray your confidences.”

  “Ha!” His laugh was sharp. “Never betray me? I think you have already done that, ma’am when you conspired with Mr. Ford.”

  Caroline rose to her feet her hands curling into fists. “I told you the truth. I only kissed him to say thank you.”

  “For what, exactly?” His eyes were like chips of ice. “If that were the case one would imagine he would be the one kissing you.”

  “Ruby is rather fond of him,” Caroline explained. “He promised me he had not encouraged her… affections.”

  “Because he’s still hoping you’ll change your mind?”

  “No! I told him—”

  He cut across her. “I know what you told him, and now the whole bloody town is baying for my blood.”

  “What?” Caroline asked. “I don’t understand.”

  “Really.” He returned to stand behind his desk. “Did he tell you about the meeting tonight at the hall, which includes a rabble rousing speaker, and apparently a discussion on what will happen to the people of Three Coins when I throw them out of their hovels?”

  “Oh,” Caroline pressed her hand to the bodice of her dress. “I had no idea…”

  “That your snooping would create such an uproar? Oh come now, Mrs. Harding. You aren’t a fool. You must have known that sharing that particular piece of information with Mr. Ford would damage me greatly.”

  “I wasn’t the person—”

  He came around the desk so fast that she flinched away from him.

  “Don’t you dare.” He leaned in until she had to tilt her head back to see him, his hands on the arms of her chair caging her in. “Don’t you bloody dare defend yourself, or I will rescind my offer of a job and send you packing.”

  “With just the clothes on my back?” Caroline glared right back at him. “Why not do it now? You’re obviously willing to do it to hundreds of other people without a care in the world.”

  “Be quiet, Mrs. Harding.”

  “Why? What else can you do to me? I’ve been on the streets, I’ve been reduced to begging you to bed me for a shilling!” She swallowed hard as tears crowded her throat. “And how dare you criticize me when your sin is far worse? You’re willing to sacrifice all those people in Three Coins to make money.”

  “So you did know.” Captain Grafton sneered and moved away from her.

  “I spoke to Mr. Fletcher, he told me about your plan, and that’s all—”

  “I don’t believe you.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “And there’s nothing wrong with making a profit.”

  “There is at the expense of others.” Caroline said. “You are in the wrong.” She took a step away from him. “I
will leave immediately.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.” He sat down at his desk and looked down at his pile of morning post. “You’ve already lost one home because you acted before you thought things through. Perhaps this time you’ll use your common sense, stay here, and do your damned job.”

  “For a man who thinks I betrayed him?”

  “Why not?” He smiled, and it hurt her to the soul. “If you continue to perform your job adequately, why should I care what you think about me?”

  She turned and ran down to the kitchen, locked the door behind her and burst into tears, stifling the sobs with her hands as she shook with emotion. She wished she had told Jon Ford what she knew—that would have taught the arrogant bastard a lesson!

  Sitting down at the table she wiped her eyes. Why hadn’t she told Jon? Why hadn’t she even confirmed his suspicions? Because unlike her employer, she’d tried to remain loyal even when he assumed she wouldn’t. Could she continue to work for Captain Grafton knowing that? It hurt far more than she had anticipated. She’d foolishly imagined that they’d become closer, that he respected her, that he…

  Liked her? Loved her? She slowly raised her head and stared at the door. Well now she knew that she was as easy to discard as all the other women who had briefly featured in his life. Turning around she considered the clean kitchen and the warmth of the building surrounding her. Should she give it up? Part of her wanted to walk out just to show Captain Francis Grafton that she wouldn’t be intimidated, while the rest of her couldn’t imagine inflicting such a wound on her family again.

  She blew her nose and dried her eyes. Captain Grafton was leaving Millcastle soon. Perhaps she should take his unwanted advice and stay exactly where she was until she was able to leave on her own terms. Even though she felt as if her heart was broken, that would be the greatest victory of all.

  Chapter 14

  Francis dressed warmly and checked the time on his pocket watch. He reckoned that the meeting would be well underway by this point, and that the audience would be focused on the speakers. As soon as the factory shift had let out, some workers had ignored the order not to attend the meeting and headed for the hall early to get a good seat. Francis knew that every business owner worth his salt would have an informer in there writing down or remembering the names of those men.