“It’s a little different than what you are used to, I think,” Mr. Bamber said with a grin at the stunned expression on the young man’s face.
“Yes. I have never seen anything like it. It almost feels as if the buildings are closing in on us,” Fitzwilliam admitted.
“This is the oldest area of the city. Thought I would bring you through this part, and then you can see the improvements we have made.”
“He likes to shock our delicate sensibilities,” Mr. Huxley said. He had been extremely quiet around Colonel Fitzwilliam since his arrival, but it was not through fear. He was determined to stand by Anne but knew he was powerless to help her whilst she was in such a precarious situation.
Mr. Bamber laughed. “I have to take my enjoyment from somewhere, and you were not half as shocked as the young Colonel here. You took it in your stride, my boy.” As both Mr. Huxley and Colonel Fitzwilliam were above the age of thirty, they exchanged an amused look that the older gentleman still considered them boys.
“Did you inherit a mill?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.
“No. I worked my business up from scratch. My father was a cotton worker, but that wasn’t going to be enough for me. The ability to work hard, learn quickly, and take a few risks meant that, when I met my lovely wife-to-be, I was a joint partner in my first mill. I soon branched out after we had wed and built my own. I was in the process of building the second when my lovely Charlotte died. I think I would have gone insane if it hadn’t been for little Prudence and the two mills.”
“I am surprised the family were so against the marriage if you were already successful,” Fitzwilliam said.
Laughing, Mr. Bamber shook his head at Fitzwilliam. “They didn’t want my tarnished credentials anywhere near their titled daughter. I suppose I cannot blame them. Now I am a man with a daughter myself, I can understand why they only wanted the best for Charlotte. I only want the best for Prudence, but that does not mean I’m foolish enough to want her to have a title.”
“She did mention you were hoping for a viscount,” Fitzwilliam could not resist pointing out.
“That was naught but a joke between father and daughter. I had already decided as long as she was happy, I would accept any man she chose. Unfortunately, she has not wished to marry any of the gentlemen who have offered for her.”
“She’s had many offers?” Fitzwilliam asked.
Mr. Bamber noticed the strangled tone Fitzwilliam failed to hide when he spoke, and it pleased him. It seemed his daughter’s chosen one was not as unaffected by her as he had first presumed. He would enjoy finding out more about the young man as he had already noticed how his eyes followed Prudence, especially when she hadn’t realised she was being observed. There was a longing in Fitzwilliam’s gaze that Prudence might not have noticed, but her father certainly had.
“Under ten but above five.” He grinned. “She has a lot to offer, and the fact that she’s a capable lass has only added to her appeal. A mill owner can’t go far wrong if he has a capable helpmate by his side.”
“I imagine not.” Fitzwilliam was devastated. He had lost hope after Darcy’s interference, but to be told that rich men sought the one he was still in love with had struck him as hard as if it had been a physical blow. He had little to offer her; he knew that, but to have it confirmed shattered the tiny fragment of hope he was clinging onto. His day had gone a little darker.
On arrival at the Bamber Mill, the three gentlemen alighted from the carriage. Fitzwilliam looked around. There was more space between the mill and houses than the others he had seen, but only slightly. The streets were about half the width of the streets he frequented in London, and yet there seemed to be about double the amount of traffic on them. Public houses and shops seemed to be on each street corner, with the residential houses spanning away in rigid lines of dark brick. A few people idly watched their arrival; they appeared to be older women, or women with babes in arms. One or two were scrubbing the front steps or cleaning windows. It was clear they noticed the carriage but weren’t interested enough in its occupants to stop their endeavours.
Mr. Bamber led the way through the bustling mill yard. Piles of products, from raw goods to boxes of finished items were stacked around the busy space. Mr. Bamber’s arrival in the yard was noticed, the men doffing their caps and the women calling out good morning to him. A few of the woman cat-called or whistled at Mr. Huxley and Fitzwilliam.
Mr. Huxley glanced at Fitzwilliam. “If Mr. Bamber wasn’t with us their calls would be far more raucous. I can say this with the voice of experience. It is terrifying.”
“They are good workers, but they don’t miss an opportunity to heckle,” Mr. Bamber said. “They would frighten most men.”
“We should have used them against the French,” Fitzwilliam said.
“It would have been over a lot quicker if we had. No disrespect to you all, of course, but I’ve seen these girls in action. It’s a shame what they put a callow youth through on his first day at work. He has to toughen up and fast if he is to survive their taunts.” Mr. Bamber shuddered.
“No offence taken at your comparison. I am already afraid of walking through this yard unescorted. How does Miss Bamber deal with them?”
“Oh, Prudence is treated with affection by them all, but they can and do tease her,” Mr. Bamber said. “She grew up around here, and a motherless child will always bring out the maternal streak in these girls. She was petted as a young girl, spoiled even.”
Fitzwilliam was amazed as he walked through the cotton-filled loom room and card room. The noise was unbelievable as the large machinery whirred and clanked in place, with workers moving in time to the mechanical dance. The cotton fibres made him choke, but he noticed large fans moving the white snow away from the workers and machinery.
He was stunned for a moment or two when the door to the office closed and the noise was muted somewhat.
“It is an impressive sight at first look isn’t it?” Mr. Huxley asked. “I was completely overawed.”
“I have never seen anything like it,” Fitzwilliam said.
“It warms my heart every time I walk through,” Mr. Bamber admitted. “I’ll never tire of the noise or the smell of the oil and cotton. However strange that sounds.”
“It just makes you sound like a man happy with his lot in life,” Fitzwilliam said.
“The only way to be. Why hanker after something we can’t achieve? I would never be accepted in your circles, even though I could buy and sell most of those who would look down their noses at my humble beginnings. Who are the fools in that situation?”
“You make a good point, sir.”
“Well I didn’t bring you here to start talking about the rights and wrongs of society. Come, Mr. Huxley, let’s show the Colonel what a working man’s day is like!”
They were half-way through the afternoon when a breathless Prudence burst into the office, animated and flushed. Fitzwilliam had been pouring over some paperwork but immediately moved towards her.
“Anne?” he asked.
“Yes! She woke! Only for a little time, but she opened her eyes. The doctor says the fever has broken!”
“Oh, thank God!” Mr. Huxley exclaimed, sinking into a chair.
Fitzwilliam walked over to Prudence and squeezed her outstretched hands. “Thank you for all you have done. Thank you most sincerely.”
Prudence returned the pressure of his fingers. “She managed to fight it. We didn’t think she would, but she is stronger than we all thought. The doctor says there is still a long way to go before she is completely out of danger, but it’s a start. I had to come tell you.”
“We owe you a real debt of gratitude.”
“I love Anne. Almost from the first moment I met her,” Prudence admitted. Her hands were still grasped in Fitzwilliam’s, and she made no effort to remove them.
“You brought out the best in her.”
“I think two of us did,” Prudence said, turning to Mr. Huxley. “Her journey north pr
oves how smitten she is with you.”
Fitzwilliam stiffened and took a step away from Prudence. He felt the loss of touching her but needed to dampen down what she was hinting at. “She could have been travelling to you,” he said to Prudence.
“She told Mr. Huxley to come here. She followed him. Yes, she knew she would find a welcome here, but it was not us she was seeking.”
Fitzwilliam looked as if to answer back but instead he turned to Mr. Bamber. “Do you wish me to leave immediately, sir, or am I able to remain until Anne shows further progress?”
“You can stay as long as you wish,” Mr. Bamber said. “I shall leave it up to you to make the decision. You will find no push from me to rid us of your company. It’s only natural you’d want to remain close by for a time.”
“Thank you for your continued hospitality. I would like to make sure Anne is stronger before leaving her,” Fitzwilliam said.
“Why don’t you two accompany Prudence home? I am hardly likely to get any sense out of you for the rest of the day now that you know Miss Anne is improved,” Mr. Bamber said.
As both men were indeed thinking about Anne, they jumped at the chance. Prudence led the way through the factory, acknowledging people as she went. There was no conversation as the noise was too great. Once in the yard their presence caused the same amount of interest as it had when the men had arrived.
“Oooh, Miss Prudence! Found yourself two fine gentlemen, have you? I don’t mind taking one off your hands!” came a cackling cat-call.
“Now, Mary, your Joseph won’t like that, but I will have either of those two,” another responded. “A fine pair. Fancy walking out with a girl who knows how to look after a man, my lovelies? We’ll not be prim and proper, I promise!”
Prudence choked on a laugh as Mr. Huxley and Fitzwilliam both looked abashed.
“Sally, you’re putting them to the blush! Stop your teasing,” Prudence chided.
“I ain’t teasing, Miss Prudence. We don’t often get fine fellows like those two visiting us. I am more than happy to give either of them a friendly welcome.”
“I shall inform Brendon when I next see him, shall I?”
“Ooh, getting territorial, Miss Prudence? Well I can’t blame you. Which one will you choose, or are you yet to make a decision?”
“I am not decided as yet,” Prudence said with a laugh.
“Good on you, girl!” The women laughed and cheered good-naturedly, which although Prudence flushed, she smiled along with them.
Leaving the mill yard, Fitzwilliam sighed. “I did not think we would get out unmauled. They make the women who follow the drum look positively meek and mild.”
“There’s no harm in them,” Prudence assured him.
“Not for you, but for a handsome beast like me…”
Prudence snorted. “Deluded man.”
“But they just pointed out how fine I am. How can you go against those astute women?”
“They say exactly the same to the coal merchant, the waggon boys, and anyone else who has the misfortune of crossing the yard whilst they are outside.”
“I am no better than a waggon boy?”
“Take comfort. She said you were on equal terms,” Mr. Huxley pointed out.
“In that case, I am reassured,” Fitzwilliam said as he climbed into the waiting carriage.
Chapter 17
Anne was still sleeping when the threesome arrived back in Stretford. There was a difference though. It was a natural slumber rather than an unconscious fever. Prudence took up her daily roll of nursemaid on her return and settled in for the afternoon.
Fitzwilliam joined her for a little while. They sat in silence, both watching Anne, but aware of every movement the other made. The atmosphere was not uncomfortable exactly, but there was an unresolved air to it.
After an hour, Prudence leaned forward in her seat. “Anne?” she whispered as a reaction to her cousin’s eyes fluttering slightly.
Both waited, watching and willing the young woman in the bed to awaken. Eventually, she obliged them with a blink and then opened her eyes.
“Prudence?” she croaked.
“Yes, I am here, my dear. Would you like a drop of water?”
Anne nodded slightly, but they could both see that the movement cost her. Prudence wet a cloth and squeezed a drop or two onto the dry, parched lips. “A little at a time,” she soothed when it seemed Anne would ask for more.
Fitzwilliam moved to the other side of his cousin’s bed. Touching Anne’s hand he smiled down at her when she looked at him. “Hello, sweetheart. It is so good to see you awake.”
“Mother?” Anne croaked.
“She is well. As demanding as usual, I am led to believe,” Fitzwilliam reassured her.
Anne smiled slightly. “M-Mr. Huxley?”
“He’s here,” Fitzwilliam said. “You must not worry about anything, Anne. The important thing is that you need to get better.”
“Yes,” Anne whispered. “Mr. Huxley.”
“I promise you shall see him the next time you awaken, but I can see you are very tired. Sleep now,” Prudence said.
Anne did not argue, but let her eyelids close and was soon breathing deeply.
Fitzwilliam watched her for a few minutes before he walked to the window and blindly looked out. Prudence left him a while but eventually his tense stance removed her inner battle with herself to remain at a distance from him.
Walking over to where he stood she rested a hand on his arm. “What troubles you?”
“I am terrified she will relapse,” he admitted, not looking at Prudence.
“She is over the worst. I know there is still a long way to go before she will be fully recovered, but she has overcome the first hurdle. Have faith.”
“It has only just struck me, but it has done so quite forcefully, that if Anne died, she has little experience of life. The restrictions she’s faced have meant she has not had a season, nor a trip abroad. She has barely been to any entertainments, all because of my aunt’s selfishness.”
“There was probably some fear on our aunt’s part,” Prudence said.
“What? That Anne would find a life without her?”
“Possibly. It is not something to completely condemn our aunt for. Think of it from Aunt Catherine’s perspective. Anne is all she has.”
“It’s the same with you and your father, but he hasn’t restricted your life.”
“No, he has not. But he has a business in which he can lose himself. Plus, I have always promised I would remain close by him. He knows I will live nearby, whereas Anne could have married someone and moved to the other end of the country,” Prudence admitted.
“Is that why you refused the offers of marriage you have received?” Fitzwilliam was torturing himself. He knew that, but it did not stop him uttering the words. He inwardly cursed when Prudence removed her hand from his arm.
“Not that it is any of your business, but no. That was not the reason I refused the offers I received,” came the cool response.
“I am sorry for asking.”
“You should be.”
“The reason for my impertinence is that I can think of little else other than what we shared and what I felt when I was with you. I will always damn my family to the devil for their interference.”
Prudence sighed and walked away from Fitzwilliam. “This is not the time nor the place to go over old ground. Thinking about what happened since my return home, I have come to the conclusion that we would not have suited anyway. Oh, there is an attraction between us. I am not trying to deny that, but there needs to be more. I can barely explain what I mean, but perhaps it is summed up by my wishing for a husband to want me above everything else and put me first when it really matters. I have not yet found a man who would be prepared to do that.”
“I am sorry that you feel that way. If it helps with your annoyance towards me, things will never be the same between myself and Darcy.”
“That does not please me, believe me.
It is not my hope that I would come between you and your family, but it is something between the two of you. It does not affect me, so do not remain estranged on my account.”
“I think of you constantly.”
Prudence closed her eyes. It would be so easy to go to him, to let him wrap her in his arms as he had done at Rosings. It was what she wanted. Unfortunately, her inner voice stopped her from acting though her heart wanted to capitulate. How could she risk his lack of support when they would start with his family clearly against the match? No. To face such censure as they would, the pair had to be completely in tune with each other, just as her parents had been. Fitzwilliam had shown that he was not that committed to her.
“I am going to inform Mr. Huxley that Anne has been awake and invite him to sit with me. It is clear that Anne wishes to see him, and I think it’s only fair that we abide by her wishes,” she said dully.
“As you wish,” Fitzwilliam answered. He moved to the door. “Let me send him up to you.”
Prudence sank into her chair when Fitzwilliam bowed and left the room. Blowing out her cheeks, she looked at Anne, who was still sleeping. “I cannot arrange my own happy ever after, for common sense will not let me, but I can certainly try and help yours,” she said.
*
The evening meal was a less tense affair than it had been over the previous evenings. Mr. Bamber, as usual, had asked of Anne’s progress.
“She is waking regularly and looking brighter each time,” Prudence said, tucking into the veal pie, which was nearest to her.
“That is good. The fresh air here will do her good once she’s up and about.”
“I should make arrangements for her removal as soon as possible,” Fitzwilliam said.
“I doubt she will be fit to travel for some time yet,” Prudence said quickly. “She would not be able to stand a relapse.”
“That would mean we shall be imposing on you for quite a while. We are already trespassing on you a great deal.”
The Colonel's Spinster: A Regency Romance (Tragic Characters in Classic Literature) Page 13