Love Engineered (5 page)

He looked at her with a faint hint of intrigue. “I thought you might not miss this opportunity. Have you been analysing what I said all these days?”

“A little, but you need not worry, I'll not get into an argument with you.” She tried to stop herself smiling.

“You haven't brought your notebook – can you remember all the questions?”

“Of course, though do not assume I haven't concealed my notebook about my person.”

He inclined his head, indicating Louise should begin her questions. She felt awkward though as she did, especially as they were uninterrupted by the other guests as they discussed the bridge. Though several of the others seated nearby listened into their conversation, none were able to join in, such was the intensity of their discourse.

Eventually, Charles's attention was taken away from Louise by Mr Waters, who was seated opposite. Louise didn't mind, as she was seated next to Jane, and felt she had neglected her new friend. But her thoughts remained on Charles. She was even more impressed with him than ever. His depth of knowledge was outstanding, adding to his other appealing attributes. Those, she was not sure she should think about too much.

Later on, she was engaged in much conversation with Mr Ashton, who was nearly opposite her and listened to much of the previous talk. He continually spoke of engineering topics, but she decided Mr Lucas was the only man she would talk to on that subject, so she expertly steered the conversation to other matters. Quickly she found out about Mr Ashton. He was forty-five years old, widowed a few years ago with no children. She also discovered that while he was the administrator of the partnership and dealt with the day-to-day things, it was Mr Lucas who was the engineering brain, just as she had heard.

When it was time for the ladies to leave the room, Mr Ashton prevented Louise from going for a moment.

“It's a shame you must leave now, I was enjoying our conversation so much. We must continue shortly, I don't think we will be long.”

“Indeed,” Louise said. She rose from her seat and pushed the chair in, and though she liked Ashton, hoped that she would be able to speak more with Mr Lucas.

“One more thing,” Ashton said. “You come from Devonshire I hear?”

“Yes.”

“Do you happen to know a gentleman from that county called Mr Robert Adams?”

Louise grabbed the back of the chair as a moment of blind panic washed over her, and then she forced herself to answer. “Why, I . . . I have heard of him yes. Why do you ask?”

“Merely that he is a major investor in our partnership, but whenever we ask to meet him, he refuses. I wondered; have you met him?”

“Yes. Yes I know him,” she swallowed. “I know him – quite well.” She couldn't look Mr Ashton in the eye, and stared at the painting of a woman on the wall behind him, who had an annoyingly serene expression on her face. “He is the sort of man who prefers to keep himself to himself, if you understand my meaning?”

Ashton gave a curt nod.

She continued on, though she wasn't sure why. She should have escaped the room before his questions continued. “You have never had a problem communicating with Mr Adams? That is, he always answers your correspondence in a timely manner?”

“Yes, we've never had any issues in that respect. It's just that with all our investors we like to try and meet them. He is the only major one we haven't met. He must be a very busy man.”

“Yes, I believe he is. But Mr Adams does not like to meet his investments in person, he prefers hard facts and financial reports. Trust me, you're likely to receive a rebuff every time you ask to see him in person.”

“I will remember that, thank you. You seem to know a lot about him? For someone so unavailable I mean”

Louise glanced at the other men in the room. They were all staring at her. She blushed under the sudden scrutiny. It was time to leave.

She shut the dining room door behind her and sighed, pausing outside to gain her composure. For some reason, she held her ear against the door to try to hear the conversation going on in the dining room, but no sound penetrated out. She lifted her hand to her cheek. It was burning, she must be bright red. Why hadn't she been able to hide her agitation more?

After a few moments she decided a distraction was what she needed and she went to the drawing room to join the other ladies.

“I do apologise for not leaving the dining room with you all,” she said to no one in particular. “Mr Ashton wouldn't let me go.” she gave a small nervous laugh and cringed at the sound of it. “Sometimes I get so engrossed in conversations I forget where I am.”

“Do not worry yourself,” Jane linked her arm and lead her to the tea and coffee table. “I was about to come and rescue you – but here, would you like some tea?”

Louise took the cup and saucer from Jane and sipped it quickly. It was a little too cold for her liking, but she was grateful for the liquid to sooth her dry throat. She didn't allow herself any time for reflection on her parting words with Mr Ashton, but she chastened herself for not being ready for such questions. She should have known it was likely that Robert Adams's name would be mentioned tonight, but she had so far passed the evening so pleasantly she had let her guard drop. Indeed, the assembled family and guests made the evening most enchanting. She hoped that her hesitation in answering about Mr Adams hadn’t betrayed anything. Her mind ran over the conversation again. No, she was sure they could suspect nothing. Why would they? She was being ridiculous.

Louise stood next to Jane and Miss Hunter and they spoke of the house and of the area in London. Jane didn't appear to be as fond of Constance Hunter as Rose. She noticed the somewhat quiet Miss Hunter joined in with much conversation until the gentlemen came into the room, when she withdrew herself into a quiet corner on her own. She put it down to her age.

Louise was excused from further conversation with Mr Ashton when Jane pulled him away and demanded his opinion on some books she had recently purchased. A swift glance at her showed it was purposely orchestrated. A few moments later, Louise was approached by Edward Lucas. He was in looks similar to his younger brother, but it became clear that in personality he was very different. He had a seriousness about him that Louise didn't often come across and took every comment she made to him in an austere manner. Her playful comments, so often well-received in such social occasions, seemed to have no effect on him. Louise, an expert at conversation, managed to steer the dialogue towards Charles by explaining how she became acquainted with the family and in a few minutes found herself face to face with Charles again. Edward, still standing beside them both, asked Louise, “It's unusual for a woman to be so interested in engineering, how did you get such an enthusiasm?”

Louise hesitated for a moment. Should she reveal why? Would they be interested? More importantly, would they think her a simpleton? Despite her initial wish to evade the subject, she began to speak.

“When I was a girl, I traveled to Portsmouth with my father. He had business there, and decided to take me. One day on our way through the town, we walked to the river, where a new bridge was being built. I was fascinated by the construction scene. It wasn't a very big bridge, the river was low, and they were about halfway through. My father and I watched for some time, and in the end he dragged me away. I longed to watch more, and a few days later, my father took me back to see it. Ever since that day, I've had a great interest in engineering of all kinds, not only bridges.”

She turned to Charles. “I still wonder how gentlemen such as yourself can contrive to think how to achieve such feats. I sometimes wish I had been born a boy. I'm sure I would have pursued a career in engineering.”

Louise felt herself flush for a moment. She was rambling. She glanced at Charles, who was watching her. Then she looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer, knowing she had exposed something private, something she rarely spoke of. Did he sense that?

“I can understand your enthusiasm,” he said in a serious tone and after a long pause.

“You can?” she looked up at him again, grateful for not being laughed at.

“Yes, I had a similar experience. But I was a little older and at school. One of the masters arranged for a ship builder to visit us. He was an old pupil of the school, and only a few of us who showed aptitude in the sciences were allowed to listen. He talked to us about the process of designing and building ships, and from that moment on I knew the career I wanted.”

“You haven't designed any ships though?”

“None that have been constructed, but I have, in my own time, designed many.” He smiled, “Some made of paper for my nephews, and some made of wood as Christmas presents. But maybe one day I will design something bigger.” His voice drifted off and he took a sip of coffee.

Louise was amused at the thought of him sitting at an office desk making wooden boats. He was lucky to have nephews, and they were even luckier children to have such an uncle.

“Did your father oppose your decision to be an engineer?” she asked, and noticed that Edward moved away to the other side of the room.

“At first he did. He wanted me to be a lawyer like him, but I persisted in asking his approval to train as an engineer and he relented. My mother helped persuade him. She was always able to if she put her mind to it. Or so she tells me.”

“An ideal mother then.”

They both turned and looked at Mrs Lucas. She was standing at the other side of the room behind a small table that held the tea things, smiling and fussing, making sure all the guests were being seen to. She must have sensed Louise and Charles looking at her because she glanced across and acknowledged them with a nod.

“She is very proud of you.”

“She told you that?”

“Yes, but you need not be embarrassed. I think you're very lucky to have your mother still living. I can hardly remember mine.”

“How old were you when she died?”

“Ten.”

“My father died when I was twenty, so I still have fond memories of him.”

“I was also twenty when my father died.”

Louise thought this commonality between them a little morbid, and in a bid to change the subject to something brighter asked, “Has you mother never thought about re-marrying?”

“Not that I'm aware of. But if she chose to do that, I would be happy for her. I think my father would have wanted it.”

“But you take care of her for now.”

“Yes.”

Their gaze drifted over to Mrs Lucas again. She was busy again with serving her guests. Lucky woman, Louise thought.

. . .

Charles looked at his pocket watch. It was quarter to eleven and only fifteen minutes until the carriages arrived to take the guests away. This evening hadn't been too taxing. He felt sure he had done as Ashton instructed him; be amiable, polite and affable to Miss Thomas. In fact, he admired her intellect and her sharp observations. It was a shame she was gentry, otherwise he might be at liberty to admire her more. They had spoken for a further half hour and discussed the finer points of the growing steel industry in Sheffield, the working conditions of the steel workers, the quality of the steel needed for his bridge over the Tamar and the effort required to transport it from Yorkshire to Devon.

He tucked his watch away and took in the room with a single rapid glance. Miss Hunter was talking to Rose, instructing her in some sort of needlework. His sister and Miss Thomas were seated by the fire, deep in conversation. Edward moved to speak to Mr Ashton near the window and from the looks of it, they were discussing the port they were drinking.

His mother approached and whispered, “Miss Thomas and Jane seem to have become firm friends. She must be pleased with Jane, but then who wouldn't be? Mr Hunter said earlier that although she is famous for her Engineers’ Dinner, she does not usually court new friends.”

“What else does Mr Hunter say about her?”

“Nothing much.”

He gave his mother an enquiring look.

“Very well,” she relented. “You always seem to know when I'm keeping things back. He also said that she is very rich and has a large estate in Devonshire.”

“That much we knew already.”

“And that she is the richest woman in Devon.”

He looked at Miss Thomas again, who was laughing at something Jane said. She was one of the more open and amenable of the gentry he had met. But he had a suspicion she could be as equally awkward as the others if she chose to be. It seemed as though she was one of the more open-minded of her class.

“Are you pleased with Jane's new friend?” asked his mother, tentatively.

He thought for a moment. “She is a little unusual. She is knowledgeable.”

His mother scoffed. “Always the engineer, even in your description of a lady.”

“What do you mean? What's wrong with my description?”

“Knowledgeable! Unusual! She is by far the best woman I have met in years.”

“Do you think she is a good influence on Jane?” Charles said, ignoring his mother's comments.

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean. How can she be a bad influence? She is a genteel lady, and I'm glad they are becoming friends. I know your view of the gentry. We're well aware of your dislike of the intrusive way in which they conduct their business – especially after Mr Rustling – but she really is a most pleasing woman and unlike those that you claim to disapprove of so much.”

“I shall not stop Jane having any friend you approve of.”

Mrs Lucas gave a curt nod. “I'm a good judge of character, after all.”

Despite his words, he took a moment to fully evaluate the two friends sat at the fire. Both were confident and sanguine. Jane was blonde and pretty, smaller than Miss Thomas, and her face had the glow of youth. He wondered how old Miss Thomas was, and decided that she was probably almost thirty. She was still beautiful though, her black hair expertly tied in the latest fashion. Her brown eyes reflected the light and he noticed a gentle ease about her that she hadn't shown before, especially in those moments when he studied her at Mr Bagshawe's lecture, or even at the dinner table as they spoke. But he shook himself. Her beauty wasn't the greatest he had noticed amongst the women of his acquaintance. Perhaps, like many others who are admired for their beauty, such compliments lay in an underlying knowledge of the lady's wealth.