Master of His Fate

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  Clarence frowned. “Melton! Why ever did you go there?”

  “Because I remembered that there were three empty barns at Grove Farm, which belongs to Colin Fulton, as you’re well aware. All of the Falconers stayed there six years ago, if you remember. It suddenly occurred to me that Colin might rent out those empty barns to us. We could store the goods there. They would be dry and safe, and not too far away from Hull.”

  “Melton is no good to us,” Albert announced, giving James one of his ugly scowls. “How ridiculous can you get?”

  Clarence said, “Not so ridiculous, actually.” He focused his attention on James. “How long did it take you to get to Melton this afternoon?”

  “Forty minutes going there, sir, and thirty minutes coming back.”

  Clarence gave James a small, knowing smile, and continued, “What were the barns like? In good condition, I’ve no doubt. But the main question is this … was Colin willing to rent them to us?”

  “He is happy to rent them out, and they are in good condition, all three of them, Uncle. They’re bigger than I remembered, and I know they would hold all of our export merchandise, and also our imported goods.”

  “How do you propose to get the stuff there?” Albert asked, his voice sarcastic, a smirk lingering on his mouth.

  “By large carts, drays. Moving the goods by land doesn’t present a problem,” William cut in. “I trust James’s judgment, Pa. But if you wish, I would be happy to go to Melton. It can be done in half an hour, that I know.”

  “Melton,” Albert scoffed again. “What a stupid idea.”

  Clarence, irritated with Albert already, said coldly, “You’d better not let your mother hear you speak about Melton in such a derogatory tone. She was born and brought up there.”

  This comment rendered Albert speechless, and he sat back in his chair, the ugly expression lingering. The other three men ignored him. All of them knew he was not the brightest and that he disliked James Falconer. He was always on the ready to trip him up or humiliate him in some way.

  Clarence addressed James. “Did you actually make a deal with Colin? Come to terms about the barns?”

  “No, I didn’t. I said I would have to present the idea to you, get your reaction, and that no doubt you yourself would go out to Melton to negotiate with him. He said he looked forward to seeing you.”

  “Then I shall do that right now. We have no time to waste. William, you must come with me. James, I want you to go back to the warehouse and work with Joe to empty out that blasted wreck. And keep the men safe. The latter is the most important thing of all. I don’t want any dead bodies.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Clarence. I take it you will trust my judgment if I think I should pull all the men out at some point, and sacrifice the goods.”

  “Certainly! The men come first with me, as well as with you. Life is sacred. I couldn’t live with myself if anyone got injured or died.”

  “What shall I do, Papa?” Albert asked.

  Clarence held his temper, bit back the sarcastic comment at the tip of his tongue. He said in a steady tone, “I think you should check out the possibility of using barges from York to the Humber, down the River Ouse. You never know, we might have to use that method after all. It’s certainly better than focusing on Scunthorpe.”

  “I know the manager of the barge company,” Albert said. “Shall I go and see him then?”

  “Yes, do it now,” his father answered, and pushing back his chair, he motioned to James and William. “Let’s go. We’ve no time to waste. I want this problem settled by tonight, and with all our men standing.”

  Twenty-seven

  Alexis smiled to herself as she stared down at her engagement book, realizing it was a busy afternoon ahead. But then it was Wednesday, the day when she managed to pack in a great number of things after one o’clock.

  She noted the date. It was April 18, 1888. She had taken three meetings that morning, and very shortly, she would go down to Whitechapel, where Haven House was located. Wednesday afternoon was her time to visit the charity which she had started in the summer of last year.

  Claudia usually joined her, and they stayed there for several hours, helping in the kitchen, speaking to the battered women living there, and going over matters with Madeleine Thompson, the manager they had hired.

  Looking at the date, it instantly struck her that Claudia’s wedding was only weeks away now. She was to marry Cornelius Glendenning in early June, and it would take place at Sebastian’s great stately home, Courtland Priory, which had been in the Trevalian family for several centuries.

  It was a beautiful old house, and, of course, Sebastian had ensured it was well kept and well run. He had an efficient staff that followed all of his rules precisely.

  The first time he had taken her there he had made her laugh a great deal, comparing Courtland to the old farmhouse in Kent. It was true they were very different indeed.

  Although he kept telling her he enjoyed being in Kent more than at Courtland, she knew that deep down he loved his stately home as much as Goldenhurst. They were very different, that was obvious, but he truly enjoyed living different lives, whatever he said. And she enjoyed sharing them with him.

  She glanced at the small clock on her desk and realized she must set off for Whitechapel. Closing the engagement book, she rose and went to the cupboard, took out a dark green wool jacket, which matched her ankle-length skirt. Turning, she glanced at herself in the mirror, fluffed out the jabot of her white silk skirt. She picked up her handbag, her gloves, and left her office.

  Outside their office building on Piccadilly, her carriage was waiting. Her driver, Josh, spotted her as she came through the door and jumped down from his seat to greet her.

  Within minutes she was sitting back, many thoughts rolling around in her head as she traveled through the center of London. The traffic was heavy, filled with horse-drawn buses, carts, and carriages. The pavement was crowded with people rushing about their business. It seemed to her that there was a great sense of urgency everywhere as determined pedestrians traversed the streets and all types of vehicles jammed the roads. Was it busier than ever today? Or was it her imagination?

  Endeavoring to relax, she let her mind wander to her own wedding, which would be in September. She had proposed that month to Sebastian and he had seized on it. She knew he would hold her to it, and she wanted him to. It was the right time for them to marry, following Claudia’s footsteps rather than ahead of her and Cornelius.

  By the time they had reached the High Street in Whitechapel, Alexis was completely settled down, her mind calm. She smoothed her dark green jacket, knowing she was nicely dressed but understated. That was one of her rules for Haven House. Delia, Vera, Claudia, and herself must always be simply dressed in order not to offend the women.

  Claudia was already there, sitting in the office with Madeleine Thompson. Both women jumped up when she entered and came to greet her warmly.

  A moment later they were seated, the door closed, discussing the business of the charity. Alexis had good news for them. Their five thousand pounds, which Sebastian had invested for Alexis last year, had doubled in value and would continue to grow.

  “So you don’t have to worry about buying medicines, food, and small daily requirements the women need,” Alexis finished. “But I’m still going to cadge lots of things from my friends, and you must too, Claudia.”

  Her dearest friend nodded and opened her handbag. “My future mother-in-law has given me a check for three hundred pounds,” she said with a big smile. She handed it to Alexis. “Not only that, she’s promised to keep any unwanted bed linen and towels for us, rather than throwing them away.”

  “How lovely of her,” Alexis said.

  Claudia beamed. “I like her a lot. She’s a very nice woman and, of course, she’s thrilled Connie is marrying me.”

  Madeleine Thompson laughed, and so did Alexis, who then changed the subject and asked, “How many women are staying here this week, Madelein
e? It sounds a bit quiet out there in the communal sitting rooms.”

  “We’re not as full as usual, Alexis, but that doesn’t necessarily mean there’s been a drop in marital abuse. Perhaps some women haven’t found the courage to come here yet.”

  “I understand. However, my father says some of the stall holders at the Malvern Market think the more brutal men are trying to hold themselves in check.”

  “Oh, I do hope so,” Claudia exclaimed. “Will there ever be a day when we can actually close down Haven House? Because of a shortage of women in need?”

  “I doubt it,” Madeleine answered, suddenly looking dour. “There will always be brutes around. Some men might change, but not all of them. Now, shall we go over the books for the week? It won’t take long; everything’s in order.”

  Once they had done this, they went out of the office and made their way to the kitchen. The three women who lived in Haven House and worked there greeted them cheerfully. Within seconds they were all preparing tea sandwiches, bringing out pastries, cakes, and jam roll from the pantry, and making pots of tea.

  Alexis and Claudia enjoyed this part of the visit to Haven House. They got to chat amiably to the women in the kitchen, Mavis, Gladys, and Doreen, and share moments of female bonhomie with them.

  Claudia knew that it was Alexis who set this wonderful, friendly tone, made the women feel good, and equal to them. She genuinely admired her friend for doing this. Her quips, her laughter, her small confidences kept the women laughing and listening.

  What a gift Alexis has for making everyone feel as if they are the most important person in the world to her, Claudia thought. She smiled to herself, thinking what a wonderful stepmother Alexis was going to be … probably like no other in the world.

  Later on, when tea was served, both Claudia and Alexis were glad they had come this afternoon. They generally did experience this same sense of happiness that they had given safety and security to these helpless, battered women and brought hope to them.

  As she always did, Alexis had dismissed her driver and she went back to Mayfair with Claudia, sharing her carriage. As she did every night, she was having dinner with Sebastian.

  The women chatted about the visit and shared their thoughts about the success of Haven House. They were encouraged to keep it a financially stable charity. It meant a lot to both of them that they could give back something to women less fortunate than they were.

  After that they spoke about the next fitting for Claudia’s wedding gown and those for her two sisters, Lavinia and Marietta. Claudia had begged Alexis to be the third bridesmaid, but she had declined. Sebastian had backed her in this decision.

  A silence fell between them for a short while, and then suddenly Claudia took hold of Alexis’s hand, and lowered her voice. “I want you to do something for me,” she whispered.

  “What is it?” Alexis asked, also in a low voice.

  Claudia told her, and instantly Alexis froze in her seat.

  After a moment, she said, “No. No, that’s not possible. I can’t…”

  A chill swept through her and goosebumps flew up her arms. Someone just walked over my grave, she thought, remembering an old wives’ saying. She pushed this saying away, considering it silly. But the chill stayed within her and she was filled with a strange sense of foreboding.

  Part Four

  THE ROAD TO DESTINY

  HULL–LONDON

  1888

  Twenty-eight

  Marina Venables sat at the end of her garden, staring out at the North Sea. It was a sunny afternoon in the middle of May and the sea was glorious, almost as smooth as a lake. The deepest of blues were flecked with crests of white.

  She was in the middle of a painting of the sea and still held the paintbrush in her hand. She put it down on the palette and sat back in her chair.

  Thoughts of James Falconer had entered her head, and she was focused on him, still somewhat awed by the way he had managed the collapse of the warehouse, how he had led and handled the men, and had saved all of their lives.

  Just imagine, she thought, if he hadn’t gone outside to take off his jacket and roll up his sleeves and then walked back to the warehouse. He wouldn’t have seen that slight movement just under the roof. The men inside, and James himself, would have been killed, buried under bricks and mortar. But he had gone out and he had noticed the imperceptible shift, rushed back inside, yelling at the men to run for it. He had herded them out just in time. James and the crew had stood there dumbstruck, watching the warehouse slowly move, sway, and collapse in front of their eyes.

  She was well aware that the men who worked with him liked and respected him. Now he was their hero, and she wasn’t a bit surprised.

  No wonder Albert was full of hatred for him, but then her youngest son had been mean, jealous, and filled with envy since his childhood. William, his brother, could attest to that.

  Marina had tried to love her youngest son, but he was so vengeful and unpleasant she had held him at a distance. She had been civil, pleasant even, when he was growing up, but never felt close to him.

  Her happiest moment had been when he married Anne and moved out. Anne: a lovely young woman who appeared to dote on Albert. Marina had once mentioned their marriage to Georgiana Ward, wondered out loud why it worked. Georgiana had lifted a brow knowingly and laughed. She had said that the rumor was Albert was an artful lover, knew how to please a woman. Sex, she thought. It’s always about sex.

  Marina sighed, asking herself how she was going to warn James about Albert without causing any embarrassment to him. At the back of her mind, she heard her sister Esther’s voice telling her, when she was ten, that she must always tell the truth. Nothing less would do.

  That thought stayed with her when James came walking down the garden path, as handsome and well dressed as always on this Saturday afternoon.

  “Here I am, Aunt Marina, right on time,” James said, smiling, walking over to the seawall and sitting down to face her. “I hope you’ve enjoyed painting today. The weather’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

  “It is, James, and I am painting a seascape. Actually, it’s for you, because I know how much you’ve enjoyed living on the seafront, here in the house and on the ships, when you recently went to Le Havre with your uncle and William.”

  “What a wonderful surprise! Thank you so much. How thoughtful of you.”

  “I don’t want you to forget us,” Marina murmured, looking across at him, her expression loving. “You won’t, will you?”

  “Of course not! How could I? You’ve been so welcoming, kind, and loving to me. But I’m not leaving for some time yet. Unless you’re suddenly pushing me out.” He frowned. “You’re not, are you?”

  She began to laugh and shook her head. “No. You can stay as long as you wish. Forever, if you want. That would certainly make Clarence and me happy. He was so sad when you said you couldn’t accept his offer.”

  “Yes, I know. I explained all my reasons, and he was very understanding, if very disappointed.”

  “He told me, and my sister told me about some of your plans made long ago. Esther was very honest with me.”

  “Yes, I know.” He cleared his throat. After a moment, he said, “You had something you needed to talk to me about, Great-Aunt. You mentioned that this morning.”

  “Yes, I do.” Marina stood up and went and sat down next to James on the seawall. “It’s about Albert. He is my son, but I see him through very clear eyes. I always have, since he was a child. He is mean and vengeful, and not a very nice person at all. I’ve always known it, and I tried hard to encourage him to change when he was growing up. But he didn’t listen. I suppose character is bred in the bone. There’s nothing I can do with him and his life. However, I do know he is your enemy, and surely you know that.”

  “Yes, I do, and thankfully, I don’t have to see too much of him, Aunt Marina, although he was under our feet last month after the storm.” There was a pause. James turned, sat staring directly at her, his
blue eyes piercing. “What are you getting at?”

  “I want to alert you that he has started a rumor about you…” She paused, wondering how to continue tactfully.

  “Exactly what is he saying about me?” James asked quietly.

  “That you are involved … in a relationship with … Mrs. Ward.” There, it was out. She held her breath.

  James said in a cool, even tone, “That’s not true. I am friendly with her, as you know. I’ve been doing a bit of bookkeeping for her and have visited her at her home. But that’s all there is to it, Aunt Marina. He’s invented this.”

  “So you’re not having an affair with her?”

  Without any hesitation James said, “No, I am not. And how do I stop Albert from impugning a decent woman’s character, ruining her reputation?”

  “I don’t think you can do much,” Marina replied, filled with relief that she had brought this matter to his attention. “I suppose you have to rise above it, ignore it.”

  “You’re correct. However, perhaps you ought to alert Mrs. Ward. I think perhaps she should know, too, don’t you? She must protect her reputation.”

  “I agree. Still, I don’t think she can do much to curtail Albert’s chatter either.”

  James let out a long sigh, knowing his aunt was correct. After a moment he went on. “I suggested to Mrs. Ward a while ago that she come to see you and Uncle Clarence about her need for an accountant and a solicitor. It was regarding selling her shares in her late husband’s company. I haven’t seen her lately. Did she visit you? Were you able to help her?”

  “Indeed we were. Or rather, Clarence was,” Marina answered. “And she is in good hands. In fact, it is my understanding they are making excellent progress.”

  “At least she will have her financial affairs in order,” James murmured. He reached out and took hold of his aunt’s hand. “Thank you for alerting me, telling me about Albert’s venomous lies. I suppose I will just have to … rise above it, as you suggest.” A brow lifted quizzically. He gave her a wry smile. “I don’t think I have any alternative.”