Annie Burrows - Four Regency Rogues

He stood looking about him at the throng of people—dock workers, sailors, voyagers. Where next? What would he do in similar circumstances? Keeping the workforce supplied with raw materials must be her first consideration. He set off for the dockside warehouses. After plodding from one to the other, he finally tracked her down. There was no mistaking her working dress and the chestnut hair blowing about her face. She was pushing it out of her eyes with her hand and talking fast and furiously to a man standing beside a stack of bales of cotton. Roland walked slowly towards her. She had not seen him and continued to argue with the man. ‘How much will you take for it?’

‘Naught. It’s bought and paid for and only waits on the barges to deliver it.’

‘I’ll give you more, and you can take the cargo of the Fair Charlie when it arrives. Sugar from my plantation, cotton and tobacco from America.’

‘ If it arrives,’ he said with heavy emphasis. ‘I am not a gambling man, missus. Now, you go home to your husband and leave business matters to him.’

‘Husband!’ She was furious. ‘Do you know who I am?’

‘No, nor do I care.’

Roland stepped forward. ‘Mind your manners, sir. You are talking to a lady.’

Charlotte swivelled round to face him, her face a picture of astonishment, quickly followed by an expression of irritation, while the cotton trader turned to him in evident relief. ‘Ladies should keep out of what don’t concern them.’

‘This lady is the owner of Cartwright’s mill.’

‘I care not what she owns. I do not break a binding contract for anyone—I’d never get another. Take her away, back to her embroidery, and explain to her it cannot be done, not for all the money in Christendom.’

Roland took her elbow and drew her away. ‘Come, my dear, you will do no business with this fellow.’

‘What the devil are you doing here?’ she demanded as soon as they were out of earshot.

‘I came to buy timber.’

‘In a cotton warehouse! You are roasting me.’

‘No, I am not. I was on my way to the timber yards when I spotted you. You seemed to be having some difficulty…’

‘Not at all. I was simply bargaining for the cotton.’

‘So I perceived, but if the man has already been paid for it, you can hardly expect him to sell it again to you.’

‘No, I suppose not, but I have tried everywhere else, all my father’s old contacts, the ships unloading at the quay, and none have cotton to spare. I suppose it is that damned war.’

‘Shall we find somewhere to have some refreshment and talk?’ he said, smiling a little at her unladylike language, but making no comment on it. ‘You can tell me all about it.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Oh, do not be so independent, Charlotte. I only want to help.’ He was conducting her along the busy street, making a way for them through the crowds towards the centre of the town. ‘Where are you staying?’

She was too unsettled to notice his use of her given name. Unsure whether to hate him for his interference or to be thankful that he was there, his hand under her elbow, protecting her, she did nothing to pull herself from his grasp. ‘I stayed last night with the family of my ship’s captain. His poor wife is worried to death and I thought to comfort her. I hoped to have my business done and to start for home today.’

‘It is too late to make a start now, you would be travelling through the night.’

‘I do not mind that. I cannot impose on Mrs Scott a second night. Talbot is very capable.’

‘So he may be, but anything could happen. There has been prodigious rainfall lately and the potholes are ruinous.’ What he did not say was that if she insisted on going home in the dark, then he would have to follow. Bennett was considerably older than Talbot and could not be expected to do it. He could, of course, drive himself, but it would be safer if neither of them attempted it. ‘Where have you left your coach?’

‘At the livery stables next to the posting inn.’

‘Then we will go and fetch it and then go to my cousin’s. He lives but five miles out of Liverpool. He is a family man and I am sure his wife will make you comfortable. We will go home tomorrow.’

‘I cannot do that!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I cannot.’ It was said with little conviction.

‘Do you have a better idea?’

She did not, except to insist on Talbot driving her home in the dark. She might be able to doze in the coach, but he could not. He would have to keep all his wits alert to avoid the potholes and stay on the road, and supposing tiredness overcame him and he fell asleep? She hated admitting the Earl was right. ‘You are not bamming me?’ she asked. ‘Your cousin is a respectable married man and his wife is at home?’

‘I swear it,’ he said, crossing himself, though he could not help laughing.

‘It is not a laughing matter, my lord. I have two hundred workers who will be without employment in the next two days if I cannot produce some yarn from somewhere.’

‘Have you tried asking nearer to home?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Why, Sir Gordon Brandon. Surely as a friend he would help you out?’

‘He may be a friend, my lord, but he is also a competitor.’

‘Would you help him if he were in trouble?’

‘Of course.’

‘There you are, then.’ They had arrived at the coaching inn where Talbot was enjoying a tankard or two of ale in the parlour, waiting for his mistress to return. He was relieved to see her and even happier to find her in the company of the Earl. He was told to order the horses to be harnessed and ready to leave while the Earl and his mistress had something to eat and drink.

They did not dawdle over it and were soon sitting side by side in her luxurious coach on their way to Geoffrey’s. She was silent, her head full of problems that seemed insoluble, and all her senses alert to the man beside her. Why did he want to help her, when he held her in such contempt? What motive did he have except her utter humiliation? He had achieved that once before and though she was ready to concede that his father had perhaps driven him to it, since coming home he had given no indication that he was sorry for it. He was such a mixture of arrogance, obstinacy and old-fashioned chivalry, there was no understanding him. They worked together in complete harmony when it came to helping the villagers and teaching Tommy, and yet there was about him a hidden reserve, as if he were afraid to let her see anything of the inner man.

‘You have not done anything about your timber,’ she said.

‘It will do another time.’

‘There never was an errand for timber, was there?’

‘Indeed there was. I need new wainscot for the dining room at the Hall.’

‘I would have expected the builders to deal with it.’

‘That is the second time you have questioned my truthfulness, Miss Cartwright.’

‘No, only your common sense. You do not seem able to delegate, but must do everything yourself.’

‘It is as well I did on this occasion or you would have been in a scrape, thrown into a ditch somewhere and your coachman injured, if not killed.’

She began to shake with laughter.

‘I do not see how you can find such a prospect humorous,’ he said stiffly.

‘I was reminded of Mr Halliwell and his fat wife with the bright orange hair. She took you for a labourer and Tommy for your son.’

He found his own lips twitching. ‘But it could have been much worse, you know.’

‘I know.’

‘Then concede I am right and we would do well to delay our departure until daylight.’

‘I concede nothing. It would only puff you up.’ She turned towards him. ‘How did you know I was in Liverpool?’