Picking up the whisky bottle, he splashed some liquor into her cup and his, and then filled their cups with tea. “This is the best medicine in the world, on a cold, wet night like this.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Georgiana picked up her cup and took a long swallow. “Oh, that does feel good! It warms the cockles of my heart.”
James laughed, and then glanced across at the windows as bolts of lightning flashed and there was a long roll of thunder. “I’m afraid Mrs. Mulvaney and Sonya won’t be able to make it back tonight, Mrs. Ward. I hope they haven’t tried and been thwarted, and they’ve stayed with Mrs. Mulvaney’s daughter.”
“I’m sure they have. Mrs. Mulvaney is a very practical woman.”
James stood up and strode across to the windows, peering out of one of them. In the distance, he could see many big ships anchored farther down the shoreline, moving hard and bobbing about, but obviously well secured. The sea itself was rough and raging, the waves high.
He shivered slightly and turned around to find Mrs. Ward walking toward him.
“You’re shivering, James,” she said as she came up to stand next to him. “You should come back to the fire.”
“Look out of the window, and you’ll shiver yourself,” he replied. “I’m afraid the storm is more enormous than ever, and God knows what’s happened to your garden.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Everything can be replanted.” Edging closer to him, she went on, “Can I ask you a personal question, James?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a lady friend? Some lovely young woman in your life?”
“No, I don’t, Mrs. Ward.” A smile slid onto his face. He knew exactly where this situation was leading, liking the idea, and well prepared for it. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. After all, you are a stunning young man and everyone says young girls drop at your feet.” Her tone had been teasing and she began to laugh.
He chuckled with her. “They may drop at my feet, but I haven’t picked any of them up.”
“And why is that, may I ask?” Her eyes were riveted on him.
“I haven’t fancied any of them.”
“Oh, really, and why is that? They must have all been pretty, from what I hear.”
“I prefer older women.”
“What’s older to you?”
“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, thirty.”
She was silent, stood gazing up at him, her blue eyes blazing with desire …
“You see, I acquired a taste for older women when I was sixteen. My uncle Harry introduced me to a former girlfriend of his. He thought I ought to know about sex. Her name was Fiona. She was twenty-eight, and very, very good to me.”
“You’re seventeen now, aren’t you?”
“Yes, eighteen next month. But much more mature than my age in many ways. My grandfather once told me numbers don’t matter and the only age a man should be interested in is on a bottle of wine.”
“I must remember that.” There was a pause. “I am thirty.”
“I know.”
“Do you fancy me rather than those young girls?”
“See for yourself.”
As he spoke, he took off the dressing gown he was wearing and threw it on the floor, then reached for her, untying the belt of her robe. When she stood before him naked, he pulled her closer, bent his head, and kissed her on the mouth. He then fondled her breast. A moment later he placed his hands on her back and drew her into him, closer to his body. They clung together.
“Oh, James,” she whispered against his chest.
“What is it, Mrs. Ward? Tell me.”
“I want you. Desperately.”
After a moment he pulled away from her and walked across the floor.
Startled, she stared after him. “Where are you going?”
“Mrs. Mulvaney might get back after all.” He turned the key and locked the door. “I don’t want to be interrupted when we’re making love.”
Georgiana Ward stood waiting for him, watching him walk back to her, thinking what a wonderful specimen of manhood he was. She felt a tiny prickle of fear, knowing he would entrance her and that she would become besotted with him.
Twenty-six
The entire area of Hull and Humberside had been devastated by the gigantic storm, the worst in years. It had hit on Sunday afternoon and finished twenty-four hours later on Monday afternoon, almost to the minute.
The damage was enormous. Private gardens were destroyed. Public parks, woods, and acres and acres of land were ripped apart by its impact. Homes and public buildings crashed and tumbled down. Worse, many people were injured. It was the biggest disaster in decades.
Now, on Wednesday afternoon, James Falconer was inspecting the large Venables warehouse, which housed a considerable amount of goods for export. He was there at the behest of his great-uncle Clarence.
Within only a few minutes, James was fully aware that the warehouse could not be repaired. It had suffered too much damage, and it was a very old building to begin with. Half the roof was gone; windows had been smashed and cracks had appeared on all the walls. As he walked back to the huge open door, hanging on its hinges, it occurred to him that it might not be safe for the men even to be inside the warehouse anymore. It seemed to him that there was considerable risk involved since the violent storm. Anything might happen which could kill or cripple them.
Joe Turner, the foreman, was standing outside against a pile of boxes which had recently been removed from the warehouse. He was smoking a cigarette. “I can see from yer face that yer agree, Mr. James. Repairs won’t work. In fact, the whole bleedin’ thing can topple any minute.” He shook his head, scowling. “Mr. Albert’s gor it wrong. Best we can do is get the bloody building emptied out, save summat.”
“I do agree with you, Joe,” James answered, and went and sat down near the foreman on another pile of large wooden boxes. “Mr. William is currently trying to find some empty warehouses which we can rent, but he’s not been successful so far.”
“He won’t be either, there’s nowt around,” Joe muttered. “He might as well ask the vicar if we can store our stuff in the church, all the good he’ll do looking to find space. There ain’t none.”
James blew out air. “I know what you mean. A lot of other shipping companies have had bad hits and are stuck with demolished warehouses … we’re all in the same position. Let me just think a moment.”
At the back of his mind something flickered. James tried to grasp on to it, but he couldn’t quite reach it. Something he’d seen, a few years ago …
Joe said, “Can I set the men ter work, Mr. James? Get goods out quick like? Bricks can come falling down like snowflakes afore yer knows it.”
“Yes, you’d better do that. I suppose the best way we can protect the goods is to cover them with tarpaulins and arrange for a few guards to keep the yard safe.”
“That’s it. Macy’s allus in the gatehouse, got his eyes peeled at night. Nobody’ll tek owt.” Joe dropped his cigarette on the ground, stamped his foot on it, and added, “Pity the boss didn’t tek a look at this bloody old thing six years ago, when t’other warehouse was given a goin’ over.”
Six years ago. That was it. The memory jumped back in his mind, and James exclaimed, “Barns! That’s it. Barns, Joe!”
The foreman gaped at him, frowning. “Wot are yer saying, Mr. James? I’m not follering yer.”
“I’m sorry. I realize I’m not making sense to you. I know where there are some barns we could rent and use to store the export goods. That’s the solution.”
“Bleedin’ barns in Hull? Yer not serious, are yer, sir?”
“Not in Hull, no. But in Melton.”
“Melton? Yer don’t mean that there little village, do yer? Yer can’t be serious; it’s miles from ’ere.”
“No, it’s not. It’s about an hour. And what does that matter, if the goods are safe and protected?”
The foreman took out a cigarette and str
uck a match, puffed on his Woodbine for a few seconds. After a moment he muttered, “Mebbe yer’ve got an idea, Mr. James.”
“I know I do. Where else can we store this merchandise knowing it’s safe and not sitting under tarpaulins, getting wet? I just hope nobody got there before me.”
Observing the excitement on James Falconer’s face, and knowing how clever he was, Joe suddenly exclaimed, “Go get the barns, sir. Nobody’s had a better idea. The boss’ll be ’appy with yer.”
“Any pitfalls to look out for, Joe?” James gave the old-timer a questioning look.
“Be sure the stuff’ll be safe, that yer knows ter do. Check out roofs and walls. Mek sure there’s no rotting wood, poor locks. Yer don’t need me ter tell yer, sir. That’s a certainty.”
James shook his hand and hurried out of the yard and up into the street. Within seconds he had hailed a hansom cab and was instructing the driver to head for the village of Melton. When the driver appeared to hesitate, James said, “I’ll make it well worth your while, and you’ll be waiting for me, bringing me back. A double fare, a good deal for you.”
“Aye, it is, sir. Off we go then.” The driver flicked the reins, and the horses set off at a quick trot.
Sitting back against the leather seat, James laughed to himself. Six years ago he had come with the entire Falconer clan to stay at the farm in Melton, which was owned by his grandmother’s cousin, Colin Fulton. Grove Farm. That was where he had seen the big barns, which were empty because Colin no longer had use for them. Colin did very little farming these days, having sold a large tract of land for a huge amount of money. James now prayed he wasn’t too rich, and so would refuse to rent out the barns.
* * *
As it turned out, Colin Fulton was happy to see James. He came out to greet him as he was alighting from the hansom cab.
“James! Lovely to see you! Esther wrote and told me you were staying with Marina and Clarence, learning the shipping business. What a surprise. Come on in and tell me why you’ve arrived out of the blue, so to speak.”
After shaking Colin’s hand and greeting him with his usual amiability and charm, James followed Colin into the farmhouse.
He noticed at once that it had been spruced up quite a lot, and there were flowers and other touches that suggested a woman’s influence.
And at that moment, a woman did appear, and a rather pretty woman at that.
She smiled at James as she walked toward him, and Colin said, “This is my wife, Arlette, James. Arlette, meet James Falconer, my cousin twice removed.” He grinned at James. “I think that’s what we are, isn’t it?”
“I just don’t know,” James admitted, shaking Arlette’s hand, smiling. He took the seat Colin indicated.
Arlette said, “May we offer you some refreshment? A cup of tea, perhaps?”
“Thank you, that would be nice,” James answered. As Arlette disappeared, James said with his typical gallantry, “What a lovely woman, congratulations. You’re a lucky man indeed.”
Colin preened a little and sat down. “I am lucky, yes. She came into my life very unexpectedly, two years ago, and we married last year. She’s half French, and she’s put a new spring in my step.”
James nodded, then said, “I thought I detected a slight accent. But I meant it, you are lucky to have found her.”
Sitting back, a small, pleased smile shining in his gray eyes, Colin now asked, “What can I do for you, James?”
“I want to know if you’ll rent out your three barns to me.”
“Why on earth do you want to rent my barns, for God’s sake?”
“They’re not for me personally, Colin, but for Marina’s husband, Clarence.” Without wasting any time, James explained everything about the storm and how he had come upon the idea of driving out to Grove Farm only an hour ago, desperate for a solution.
Colin listened carefully, asked a few questions, and then nodded. “Normally I wouldn’t want to bother with all this, but Marina was extremely kind to me when I was ill, after my first wife died. I owe her one, and I do truly understand your predicament. I bet there isn’t a warehouse available within a hundred miles of Hull.”
“I think you’ve just hit the nail on the head.”
“It’s a bit out of the way, though, here in Melton, isn’t it?”
“No, I got here in forty minutes at a medium trot. Anyway, you’re family and so this is a safe place. And that’s a truly important point, as far as I’m concerned.”
“From the way you told the story, I suspect you haven’t spoken to Clarence yet.”
“No, I haven’t, but I know he’ll go along with it. No reason why not. Or is there?” James gave him a long, hard look.
“None at all. Let’s have a nice cup of tea, and then I’ll show you the barns. See what you think, and if they’ll work for your purpose.”
* * *
On the way back to Hull, James was pleased to realize that they made it into the city in thirty minutes. Alighting at the warehouse, he paid off the cabdriver, gave him a generous tip, and went down the steps into the yard.
The moment Joe saw him he hurried forward and exclaimed, “Glad yer back, sir. A big piece of t’roof fell off, just missed me. I’d been a goner if Ernie hadn’t pulled me away just in time.”
A worried expression filled James’s eyes and he shook his head, took hold of Joe’s arm and squeezed. “Thank God you’re all right!”
He glanced around and saw that men were still bringing out boxes and crates of merchandise. They were stacking them next to the newer but smaller warehouse, which luckily had not been damaged by the storm.
“What’s your assessment, Joe? How long will it take them to empty the big warehouse?”
“A few hours. I asked Benny Baxter, who manages the smaller one, to lend me a few chaps and he obliged.”
“Can you finish the job before dark?” James raised a brow.
“Bloody well ’ope so, Mr. James. That bleedin’ thing will topple by then, mark me words.”
“Right! I’m going to see Mr. Clarence and bring him here if necessary. Mr. Albert’s wrong, I’m afraid. This warehouse cannot be repaired.”
“True. And let’s ’ope there’ll be no weeping widows later on today.”
When James arrived at the Venables shipping company ten minutes later, he walked into his office. William followed him in immediately. He had been hovering, waiting for him.
“Hello, James. I’m relieved you’re back. Papa is waiting for you. He thinks you’ve taken rather a long time.”
“I have. Because I took a side trip,” James replied, and said, “I’ll go right to his office now. You’d better come with me to hear what I have to report.”
“He might not like that. I think he wants to see you alone.”
“Have you found any warehouses to rent?” James asked.
“No such luck.” A morose look settled on William’s face. “There isn’t such a thing to be found in Hull.”
“Then you must come along.” James strode out of his office, William at his side, and a moment later he was knocking on Clarence’s door.
His uncle called out, “Come in.”
As he did so, James exclaimed, “Sorry I took a while, Uncle Clarence, but I had to take a side trip. More of that in a moment. My assessment is extremely bleak. The warehouse cannot be repaired. In fact, it could fall down at any moment.”
Clarence Venables sat up straighter in his chair, and nodded vehemently. “As I suspected. It is very old, perhaps ninety years old. What shall we do, James?”
Before James could answer, William’s younger brother, Albert, stepped forward and joined them near his father’s desk. “It can be repaired!” he exclaimed in a sharp tone. “Rebuilding is not necessary, a waste of good money.”
James, who had not seen Albert lurking in the background, swung around to face him. He said in a steady, impartial voice, “I beg to differ, Albert. There are huge cracks in the walls, pieces of the roof are still falling off,
and Joe almost got hit with debris a while ago.”
Turning to look at his uncle, James finished, “That warehouse has to be emptied as quickly as possible. Men are at risk in there. They could be injured, or worse, killed. We don’t want any deaths on our hands, now do we, sir?”
Clarence nodded his understanding, his voice solemn when he said, “You’re correct. We must not take any chances.” He glanced at William. “So what is your opinion? You went there, too?”
“I have to agree with James, Papa. The warehouse should be demolished. We do have to ensure the safety of our men. To do otherwise would be unconscionable.”
“Joe has borrowed a few workers from the smaller warehouse. He has them helping to move out the merchandise as fast as they can,” James volunteered.
“Come and sit down, the two of you, and you as well, Albert. Let’s talk about the storage of the merchandise.”
“I haven’t found any available warehouses in Hull,” William said. “I might have to go farther afield.”
“What about Scunthorpe?” Albert suggested. “Or Grimsby?”
William snapped, “Grimsby is on the Humber. It’s been as damaged as we have. As for Scunthorpe, it’s miles away. York might be better, since it’s on the River Ouse.”
“That’s not such a bad idea, William,” Clarence responded, nodding. “I presume you would use barges on the river to move the merchandise down from York to the ships on the Humber, which flows into the North Sea.”
“That was my thought,” William said.
“Scunthorpe’s closer,” Albert announced, throwing his brother an angry stare.
There was a silence.
Clarence sat back in his chair, his hands steepled against his mouth, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. It was obvious he was pondering the situation.
Clearing his throat after a moment, James said, “I do have a suggestion, Uncle Clarence. I’d like to tell you about it.”
Blinking, placing his hands on the desk, his uncle stared at him. “I hope it’s better than the ones I’ve just heard, which really don’t work for me, except York. Perhaps.”
“I hope so,” James answered. “After realizing how bad the condition of the warehouse was, I asked Joe to start moving the merchandise out as fast as possible. Then I took a hansom cab to Melton.”
Master of His Fate Page 17