Chapter Three

Three Days Later

Henry fidgeted in his uncomfortable best suit. He was already missing the relaxed fashions of the French countryside, along with his cool suits and loosened cravats. This was London, so comfort and freedom were not two words a gentlemen expected to encounter often.

The carriage was taking him deep into the city, to a particular warehouse attached to an office building. A leather folder, tied with a strip of narrow black ribbon, contained all the details Henry needed to know about Fairfax Porcelain Manufacturing, as well as the man who owned it. Charles Fairfax was a good businessman, that was generally agreed upon, although he had no sons, only two daughters. The business had been a good one for decades, but lately it had begun to struggle, according to Henry’s research.

What they needed was a man with money, one with ideas as to how to expand and renew their business.

Henry had one of those two things.

He was sure William would lend him the money, if need be. He had some money from the estate, and surely, he would marry soon enough. William knew his duty, as he liked to remind them all frequently.

The idea of marriage, as always, made Henry shift uncomfortably. He still hadn’t decided which was worse; joining the Season and marrying a woman who cared nothing for travel and had no original ideas beyond what she read in the gossip columns, or letting the year go by and resigning himself to a life of poverty and sponging off his brothers and sister.

I wish William and Alexander would marry first. Then there might be a sister-in-law or family friend for me to meet. Wouldn’t that be easier? A match built on friendship? Love is nonsense, after all. Nice to read about in novels, but it doesn’t exist.

The carriage slowed in a particularly busy part of London, in front of a tall, thin office building. Polite Society generally avoided the more industrial area of London, on account of it being vulgar and unbecoming to have an interest in trade or business. As a second son, Henry’s interest in entrepreneurship was mostly ignored, since he was not going to be a duke , after all. Second sons were allowed a great deal of freedom.

Generally speaking, of course.

Smoothing a hand over his cream-and-gold waistcoat and wondering why he cared so much about his appearance today, Henry stepped out of the carriage. The door to the offices was already open, and a thin, gray-haired man that he recognized as Charles Fairfax stood at the door, smiling nervously.

“Lord Henry!” Mr. Fairfax said, voice wobbling.

“I apologise for my lateness, sir,” Henry said, striding up the stairs and stepping past Mr. Fairfax into the high-ceilinged foyer inside. “There was a snarl of horses and carts on our road, and we were obliged to wait for it to clear.”

“No apology necessary, not at all!” Mr. Fairfax made an awkward bow which immediately made Henry feel uncomfortable. “A duke arrives when he means to, I’m sure!”

“I’m not a duke,” Henry said shortly. “ Lord Henry is an honorary title. My brother is the Duke of Dunleigh. I hope that is clear, Mr. Fairfax. If it is not, we can end our business here. I am no duke. Do you understand? Is this clear?”

“It is abundantly clear, Lord Henry,” came an unfamiliar feminine voice from behind Henry, making him jump.

He turned around, trying not to glare.

A young woman in her early twenties stood behind him, lips pressed together. She was remarkably pretty, with smooth auburn hair twisted back in a simple knot at the base of her neck, tendrils escaping around her face. She had large green eyes – real green, not hazel or blue-green – and a pale oval face. She wore a simple dress, nothing that Katherine would ever stoop to wear. She had a sheaf of papers tucked under her arm and was currently glaring balefully up at Henry.

He felt color rise to his cheeks.

“I didn’t mean…” he began but was interrupted.

“You meant that my father might not have done his research,” she said shortly. “That he did not understand who you were and might in fact be hoping to leverage the influence of the Duke of Dunleigh, who is not, of course, you.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“I can see that I’ve given offence,” Henry said at last. “I will confess, I initially thought… but please, I must beg for your forgiveness. I hate to be late, and my delay made me skittish. That’s no excuse, of course.”

“No apology necessary, my lord!” Mr. Fairfax said hastily, shooting a quick and warning glance at his daughter. “This is Miss Eleanor Fairfax, my… my daughter. I suppose that much is evident. My dear, there is no need for you to join us.”

The tension in the atmosphere intensified.

“It’s no trouble, Papa,” Miss Fairfax said smoothly. “See, I’ve prepared all the information Lord Henry will want to see. The accounts, our own future plans, and so on. A few sketches for new designs, that sort of thing.”

“Lord Henry does not want to waste his time with that.”

“Actually, I do,” Henry said apologetically. “Miss Fairfax, may I…?”

She wordlessly held out the papers to him, whisking back her hand as soon as he took it so that their fingers did not touch.

She does not like me, he thought grimly. Not a good start.

Mr. Fairfax glanced nervously between his guest and his daughter.

“Eleanor, do step aside with me for a moment. Excuse us, Lord Henry,” Mr. Fairfax said, his voice trembling a little.

Henry inclined his head. The older man drew his daughter away a few steps, and began to hiss sibilantly at her, quite loud enough for Henry to hear, no matter how pointedly he cleared his throat.

“Eleanor, do you know how much this gentleman plans to invest? His involvement could turn the business about! If you offend him…”

“Have a care, Papa, he can hear!”

“Mind your tongue, that’s all, my girl.”

When they turned back to face Henry, Miss Fairfax’s face was flushed, and Mr. Fairfax looked wearier than ever. Henry smiled, not showing any teeth, and tried to pretend that he hadn’t heard any of that .

“Shall we proceed with the tour, Lord Henry?” Mr. Fairfax said brightly.

Anything was better than standing in the foyer under Miss Fairfax’s baleful, unblinking eye, so Henry agreed enthusiastically.

He should have known better. Of course, Miss Fairfax came with them.

The warehouse behind the offices contained a good selection of the inventory, as well as the kilns and other apparatus. A great number of the workers were there, stepping aside from their work to bow or curtsey as Mr. Fairfax, his daughter, and his guest came by.

Henry couldn’t help but notice that Miss Fairfax greeted most of the workers by name, occasionally murmuring a few lines of conversation to one or the other, and they all smiled at her as she went by.

Mr. Fairfax, on the other hand, was visibly flagging. He was out of breath before they were halfway across the warehouse floor, and at one point, he seemed to forget entirely about a whole section of their new items, the ones that were just beginning to be sold. Miss Fairfax, of course, was there to step in, smoothly continuing what her father was saying. If Henry had been less experienced in the matters of business, he might have thought it was planned that way, and nothing to do with Mr. Fairfax forgetting things, and his watchful daughter stepping in to save his embarrassment.

Henry was nothing if not a gentleman, so he pretended to be convinced, nodding politely, even when Mr. Fairfax repeated himself, more than once. Even when he pointed out the obvious, and got the numbers wrong, and had to have his poor daughter whisper the correct thing in his ear. Occasionally, he shrugged her off angrily, or made a sharp comment, then the poor girl’s face flushed bright red – the curse of all red-heads, Henry thought – and she was obliged to step back, and Henry pretended again not to notice.

It was a relief when they passed out of the warehouse and went back up into the offices. Mr. Fairfax struggled on the stairs, panting for breath, but glared at his daughter when she quietly offered him her arm .

“Go on ahead of me,” he said at one point, leaning on the stair railing and gasping. “I’ll just have a word with one of the workers down here. Give Lord Henry some tea, Eleanor.”

It was clearly a ploy, one designed to let Mr. Fairfax take a break to catch his breath, but Henry politely bowed and carried on up the stairs.

Miss Fairfax wavered for a minute, then after some urgent whispering between them, followed Henry, face like thunder.

“I’ve rung for tea,” she said shortly, sailing past him into a medium-sized office, packed with books and papers. Ink and blank paper were set out by the empty chair, and the opposite chair was clearly never used, judging by the pile of books on it.

“Your father doesn’t have many visitors, does he?” Henry remarked, eyeing the book-laden chair.

Miss Fairfax glared at him, and Henry deduced that he’d once again said the wrong thing.

“This is not my father’s office. It is mine.”

“Yours?” Henry echoed, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.

The girl visibly bristled. “Yes, mine, Lord Henry. I daresay you’re shocked at the idea of a woman being able to handle matters of business, not to mention numbers and accounts.”

He recovered quickly. “Not at all, Miss Fairfax. I have a sister who is remarkably intelligent. More intelligent than me, I’d say.”

“Then perhaps I ought to be doing business with her.”

The smile crept across Henry’s face before he could smother it. Miss Fairfax didn’t seem to like that and eyed him with suspicion and dislike.

“What are you laughing at, Lord Henry?” she asked, voice tight.

“I am not laughing. I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to offend you, Miss Fairfax. I am not one of those men who thinks that ladies have smaller brains and can somehow not handle the sight of blood or of long numbers. Really, it matters little to me whether I do business with you or your father.”

Miss Fairfax looked slightly mollified, but not much.

“Right. Well. I understand you have a large amount of capital to invest in our business. Are you able to access that money right away? ”

“Oh, yes,” Henry lied. “I have a great many ideas to improve the business. It requires a lot of modernization, of course, not least of all…”

“I’ve already suggested modernization to my father,” she interrupted. “But perhaps he’ll be more inclined to listen to you. You are, after all, a man and a stranger.”

There was no ignoring the bitterness in her voice, simmering just beneath the surface. Henry shifted, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“Miss Fairfax, let me be clear. I have no intention of stepping on your toes. I have no intention of stopping your father from listening to you, or accepting your help, or…”

“Accepting my help ?” Miss Fairfax hissed, crossing the office in a trice and standing entirely too close to Henry for comfort. He found himself leaning backwards before the whirlwind of her anger, even though her head barely came up to his chin.

“I do not need your help , Lord Henry. I have been running this business, as much as my father will allow without relinquishing more control, and I can truthfully say that if it were not for me, we may well have gone under years ago. I am a good businesswoman, Lord Henry, but since I am a woman, I have to fight for every suggestion to be heard. If I had my way, Lord Henry, I would not…”

“Let me guess,” he interrupted, recovering himself a little. “You would never stoop to enticing an investor? Would never accept capital from a spoiled little lord like me?”

She had the grace to blush. However, Miss Fairfax had auburn hair and pale skin, and Henry guessed that she blushed at most things.

“I didn’t say that,” she said, losing some of her anger. “But I would not take capital from you in particular, sir. We need an investor, but I think a more established businessman would be required.”

“You must know that an established businessman would not stand here and bandy words with the owner’s daughter, no matter how hard she worked to keep the business afloat.”

“If nobody will listen to me, then I will be obliged to make myself heard,” she said shortly. “I’ve gotten good at it.”

For a moment, they glared at each other, her tilting her head to look up, him peering down. Henry was not a tall man, but Eleanor Fairfax could be no taller than five feet tall. In this light, her eyes were the most ethereal green he had ever seen. She hadn’t bothered with the discreet touches of powder and rouge some modern ladies favored, and her hair was slowly but surely coming undone around her temples.

As if sensing his gaze, she lifted her hand and tucked a few tendrils behind her ears. Some of the anger faded from her eyes.

“I… I should not have said all that,” she muttered, dropping her gaze. Henry let out a breath, not quite aware that he’d been holding it at all.

“I appreciate honesty, Miss Fairfax,” he murmured, but she wasn’t listening.

She turned, walking briskly over to the window. He suspected that she was trying to compose herself, before he said something else and she hurled a paperweight at his head.

Before another word could be exchanged, the door opened, and a breathless Mr. Fairfax appeared, smiling weakly.

“My apologies, the worker was quite chatty,” he said, for all the world as if Lord Henry and Miss Fairfax didn’t know that he’d spent the time slowly and painfully dragging himself up the stairs, not talking to anyone at all. The man glanced around the messy office and frowned.

“Oh, Eleanor, why did you bring Lord Henry in here? And where is the tea? Fetch some at once!”

Miss Fairfax wordlessly moved to obey, striding towards the exit. Without being asked, Henry stepped out of her way.

He suspected many people did that around Miss Fairfax. It was easier to just get out of her way, really.