Love Engineered (7 page)

He didn't reply, and withdrew to the fireplace to gather his thoughts. If the truth be known, to put as much space between himself and her. An engineer and a landowner; there couldn't be a greater difference. Perhaps he was biased. Of course he was. He knew he should not allow his previous dislike and experience of landowners to prejudice him, but he couldn't help it. He looked back at her – there was something about her that made him want to talk to her, made him want to believe she was different. He shook himself. What was he afraid of? That he might be attracted to her? It had been a long time since he had truly admired a woman.

A short time later, he was pleased when she approached him again.

“Mr Lucas, you and I are much the same, I feel.”

He looked down at her with a smile. “How so?”

“Well, we both have many livelihoods under our care and yet, we do not have the inclination to deal with those things that our dependents need us most for,” she replied.

“You do not care to sort out the details of these people's lives?”

“If I had a choice, no. But, alas, it's my duty to do these things. I was born to it, whether I like it or not, and very often I would prefer to not have the worry of it all.”

“I can't say I've ever wished to be one of my workers,” he acknowledged.

“You are stern with them?”

“Not that I'm aware of. A good principal engineer must gain his men's respect and prepare to get his hands dirty helping them. It's something I do whenever I can.”

“You like getting your hands dirty?” She raised her eyebrows and there was a sparkle in her eye.

“Yes I suppose I do.”

His mind ran to the image of this immaculately dressed lady in front of him helping move cows, or reaping wheat. He was sure she would never help her farmers in such a way. He suppressed his amusement at the thought of her knee deep in mud and turned the conversation to something she had previously said. “But I'm surprised to hear that you lack such an inclination to care for your tenants, it's something that you have never betrayed in anything you have said before.”

“What I wish for and what I have to do differ.”

The brothers left shortly afterwards, leaving Jane and Louise to themselves. She was sorry he was gone, even though their conversation had been vexing at times. He seemed to blow hot and cold. Perhaps the pressure of work had left him irritable.

A few weeks later, Charles hurried through the drizzling rain to his offices. He took the shortest route – behind a small parade of shops to a part of town where the rent was as modest as the building itself. Most days there were a constant flow of visitors, contractors, workers, and other tradesmen, all party to the projects the partners undertook. Today, the rain seemed to be keeping them away and he entered the offices without hindrance.

The junior clerks and engineers were already at their desks, neatly organised but cramped. They acknowledged the senior partner, then went back to their work.

Charles had his own office, and some time later he was seated behind his desk writing when the door flew open. Ashton hurried in and waved a card. “Today is a day to celebrate!” he grinned.

“Why?” Charles said, not looking up until he had finished his sentence.

“Because our invitation to Miss Thomas's Engineers’ Dinner has just arrived.”

He handed the printed card to Charles, who studied it briefly before he handed it back.

“That is the date we were supposed to be meeting Mr Tyler about the steel order,” Charles said in a nonchalant tone.

“Hang Mr Tyler. I will write to him straight away and change the date. We cannot refuse. If word got out we vetoed Miss Thomas we would never live it down. Indeed, there are several people who will be green with envy when they know we have been invited. I shall try and happen upon them accidentally as soon as I can.”

Charles frowned. “Can you not go on your own?”

“Certainly not! The invitation is specific, it's you and I who are invited.” He wagged his finger at his partner. “You're not getting out of this one, however much you would like to!”

“What if I were ill?”

“I'd still drag you there.”

“Dead?”

“Stop it. You are going and that is final.”

“But I have seen so much of Miss Thomas lately that I'm growing uncomfortable seeing her,” Charles said with a sigh and sank down into his chair. “She will start to believe the only reason I speak to her is to further my reputation and work.” The truth was, he couldn't stop thinking about her and wanted to keep his distance, but he was hardly going to tell that to Ashton.

“But that is precisely the reason we have this. Well, actually I think we can thank Jane for it too. You must tell her of my gratitude when you get home.”

“She will not get my thanks. And I think it very improper of Miss Thomas to send out invitations so late. It's only next week. Surely she should have sent the invitations weeks ago?”

“I don't care about that! Promise me you will behave on the night of the dinner? We're fortunate to have received it, they say that there are only thirty people invited each year and that an invitation one year does not necessarily mean an invitation the next.”

“Sounds very tiresome. I can't understand what all the fuss is about.”

“Investors my dear boy. Investors. There will be plenty of them there, too.”

“Well then, isn't it better that I do not go; I will only say something you will not like and turn the investors away.”

“No you will not. Stop trying to make excuses.” Ashton breathed in deeply. “If Jane stays friends with Miss Thomas, then I think we will be invited every year. You must do your best to encourage the friendship.”

Charles dipped his pen in the ink and began writing again. “You'd best do that yourself. If you have finished, I have work to do,” he said in a stern tone and without looking up.

When Ashton left, Charles stared at the closed door and pondered their conversation. He was annoyed by Ashton's continual praise and connivance regarding Miss Thomas and though he despised his partner’s constant fawning, he knew he was doing it for the best of reasons. But the fact that he had to include him in all his plans, and expect him to perform to order was disconcerting. He was sure he would do nothing to put himself out. In fact he was determined to treat Miss Thomas the same as any other friend of Jane's; with civility and courtesy but no other special treatment. For his own sanity, at least.

Mr Ashton was incorrect in his assumption that Jane's friendship with Louise was the reason they had received an invitation. The truth was, Louise had purposely put Charles's name at the top of the list for the dinner. She told herself that it was his skill and genius at work that put him there and that she would have added his name regardless of their recent acquaintance. But deep down she knew there was another reason. A reason she couldn't yet admit to herself.

Despite the prestige of her dinners, she was nervous that her invitation would be accepted, and she had no real doubt that he would refuse, unless business took him out of London. In the six years she had been running the dinners in her father’s place, only once did someone refuse her invitation and afterwards they assured her it was because of illness.

Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long for her answer, which came the next day in the hand of Mr Ashton. She read the polite acceptance and knew how pleasant it would be to have Mr Lucas attend.

The day of the dinner arrived and she fretted over every detail. Everything was kept exactly as her father had done. How she missed him at this time of the year. She checked and re-checked every detail from the menu, the table and place settings, as well as the quality of the wine, bought from an exclusive importers. She couldn't let him down, and now years after his death, she believed she had perfected the dinners. He would be proud of her, she was sure. There were times in the past years when she wondered why she continued the tradition, but one glance at her father's portrait told her why.

There were some who frowned on what she did: a single woman hosting a group of men. She heard the whispers. She knew to some people, particularly women, it was shocking. But really, she enjoyed the company of men – especially when she was the means to bring together the great men of the age. The investors loved it too. They had a chance to meet the men who were the means of their profits. There were more reasons to continue with the dinner than not. She was sure if she didn't hold it, someone else would take over the task. Of course, it would never be as prestigious if they did.

Mr Lucas and Mr Ashton were amongst the first guests to arrive. Louise barely noticed Mr Ashton's compliments and gratitude at being amongst the lucky few, her attention, albeit covertly, was on one man. Mr Lucas bowed over her hand and greeted her formally and she noticed how smart he was in a cream waistcoat and matching cravat, a change from his usual dark ones. In his jacket pocket there was a small diamond pin and she wondered who had given it to him. Perhaps he bought it himself.

Charles Lucas wasn't one to gush, like his partner, but she discerned that he seemed pleased enough to be there, though a little awkward. She comforted herself that she was glad to have him in her house, and wore an air of happiness rarely displayed. But before their conversation could get any further, she was pulled away as more people arrived. She circulated round the guests with practiced ease, always acutely aware where he was in the room, and to whom he was speaking.

Soon enough the room was full and all the guests had arrived. Louise took a moment to cast her gaze over the room. Investors were talking with engineers. Mr Lucas wasn't far away and as a new guest, was being questioned by a number of old-timers. Louise smiled; she hoped he didn't get too many difficult questions. The conversation grew louder and for over an hour, the guests mixed. Louise made sure she spoke to everyone, excusing herself and moving to the next group with expert ease.

When dinner was served, Louise was at the head of the table, and she had placed Mr Lucas halfway down for her own sanity and presence of mind. Near to her, yet far enough away that she could concentrate on being hostess. Conversations between the gentlemen were as expected: engineering issues, and Louise noticed the usual amount of boasts displayed. Just as she had surmised, Mr Lucas wasn't one to join in with them.

Dinner was a lavish affair. Eight courses, all her own design. She had brought her cook especially from Glazebrook. Halfway through dinner, Mr Stephenson called a halt to all other conversation when he asked Louise in a booming voice, “Dear Louise, where is Mr Robert Adams this evening? You promised me he would be here tonight.”

A hush settled over the table and all heads turned towards her. She placed her napkin down, looked directly back and said in a playful tone, “Why, I made no promise of the kind, as you well know. I did of course invite Mr Adams, and he accepted at first. Unfortunately, I received a note yesterday that said he had urgent business and couldn't attend after all.”

“That is what you say every year,” Mr Stephenson replied with a broad grin. “Yet there is no empty seat for him here at the table.”

Louise closed her eyes for a moment. “I knew he wouldn't come, but if he had turned up, I would have made space for him. Besides, I cannot be responsible for Mr Adams's behaviour. If you wish to speak to him then I suggest you make an appointment.”

“I have tried that, and never yet succeeded,” he said.

“Aye, I have too,” Mr Ashton said from further down the table. “He is very elusive. Has anyone here met him?”

There was a general murmur and shaking of heads. Nobody, it seemed had met the man.

“There,” said Mr Stephenson. “None of us has ever seen him, yet everyone knows of him. Tell me, Miss Thomas, have you ever met him?”

“I suppose you could say that I have met him, yes,” she said.

“Do you know him very well?” Ashton interjected in an eager voice.

“Yes, quite well.”

“What sort of man is he?”

She cleared her throat. “He will be highly amused at this conversation when I tell him you are were all talking about him.”

“Is anyone close to winning his flying prize?” someone asked further down the table.

Louise looked in the general direction of the man who had spoken; the elderly Mr Purnell, an investor.

“Not as far as I'm aware. I think Mr Adams eagerly awaits the time he can award his prize money.”

“What prize is this?” Ashton asked.

“Mr Adams has a prize of ten thousand pounds for anyone who can invent a powered flying machine – that works.” Louise said.

“It can't be done,” someone murmured.

Louise spoke up in a forthright tone. “Mr Adams thinks it can be done, and I agree with him. One day, someone will invent it. Look at how far we have come in the last fifty years.” Some of the men nodded, and her gaze fell briefly on Mr Lucas, to see his reaction to her words. He was listening attentively. “It may not be in our lifetime – it may not be for a hundred years, but I'm sure one day mankind will take to the skies.”

“Ten thousand pounds is a lot of money,” Mr Stephenson commented.

“A big incentive,” someone else said.

“One thing is for sure,” Mr Purnell added, “I will invest in anything Mr Adams does. He has the luck of the devil. Anyone know what his latest projects are?”

All eyes turned to Louise again. “I believe he has invested a great deal of money in the dock extensions at Bristol.”

“That is Mr Lucas's project,” someone said.

All eyes turned to Charles, who was in the middle of taking a sip of wine. He gave a curt nod to acknowledge the accolade.

The conversation turned to how that work was progressing and Ashton seemed particularly pleased. Louise sat back and listened to those near her with a contented smile.

When they had all moved to the drawing room after dinner, Louise was approached by Mr Stephenson.

“I hope you didn't mind my little joke at the dinner table,” he said as he sipped his coffee.

“You mean regarding Mr Adams?” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Yes, of course I minded. It was a great liberty you took and if I didn't hold such a fondness for you and your wife, I would punish you accordingly.”