CHAPTER NINETEEN

If dinner was a somewhat strained affair, the thought of what lay after it was sending Anna’s nerves into spasm. Apparently sensing this and aware that she would need a maid to help her undress, Daniel announced his intention of taking a glass of port while reading another chapter of the book on Chinese porcelain he’d taken from the library. Wanting to leave the dressing-room free for him and to be safely under the covers herself, Anna scampered through her night-time ritual with a speed that left the maid hiding a grin at what she took for eager impatience. As soon as she’d gone, Anna laid the bolster lengthways down the centre of the bed. Then, since she had no idea how her husband preferred to sleep, she dithered about which side to occupy until she heard his step outside the door and was forced to plunge into the one nearest to her.

Daniel entered the room to find her sitting bolt upright clutching the sheet to her chin, with her hair lying over one shoulder in a single, very long braid. A faint tremor of amusement stirred but he quelled it and said, ‘I hope you didn’t hurry on my account?’

‘Not at all,’ she lied. And awkwardly, ‘I don’t know which side you prefer …’

‘It’s of no consequence – either will do,’ he replied, disappearing into the dressing-room.

It wasn’t until he got there that amusement was banished by a thought that hadn’t occurred to him until now. Since he rarely wore a nightshirt and hadn’t expected to need one tonight, he hadn’t brought one with him. This made him wonder if it wasn’t time he engaged a valet. But mostly he realised that, even if Anna hadn’t been sitting there looking the picture of maidenly modesty, he couldn’t sleep naked tonight.

She wouldn’t be the only one blushing , he thought ruefully.

Well, the shirt he was currently wearing would have to do. It was long enough to cover the essentials and, provided he stayed tidily under the covers and on his own side of the bolster, all would be well. He pulled his chamber-robe over it and strolled back into the bedchamber, checking the fire and extinguishing a couple of candles on his way to the bed. Anna, he noticed was lying down, eyes shut tight and fingers still gripping the sheet. Daniel removed his robe, tossed it on to a nearby chair and, sitting on the side of the bed, said conversationally, ‘Relax, Anna. Nothing is going to happen. Or, to put it another way,’ he added, a smile evident in his voice, ‘I won’t pounce if you don’t.’

‘I know,’ she mumbled. And to herself, He doesn’t want you, you stupid creature. He never has and he never will. Wishing it was different won’t change that .

In fact, as he settled into bed and lay for a moment on his back, Daniel was conscious of a flicker of interest created, he thought, by a faint but pleasant scent of something he couldn’t identify. Then, telling himself this was merely the natural result of an extended period of celibacy, he turned over, wished Anna a ‘goodnight’ and composed himself for sleep.

On the other side of the bolster, Anna lay rigid, miserably unable to ignore his presence a mere two feet away in the dark. She listened to him breathing and wondered how on earth she could possibly sleep knowing that, if she but reached out her hand, she could touch him. The night was going to seem endless.

***

When she woke it was still early but the other side of the bed was empty and the open dressing-room door told her that Daniel was elsewhere. Anna slid from the bed, donned her robe and rang for the maid. Tea and hot water arrived promptly, along with the information that his lordship was exploring the grounds. This, Anna knew, was something he sometimes did at home on fine mornings. But she groaned at the thought of what Mama was likely to make of it.

In fact, Daniel joined her in the breakfast parlour before Mrs Hawthorne appeared and, for the benefit of the footman standing near the door said, as though this wasn’t the first time they’d spoken that day, ‘I met the peacocks. I think they expected to be fed.’

‘They did. Papa got them in order to perfect his design for the peacock scent bottle. He spent hours taming them and now they’ll eat out of your hand.’

‘I was a disappointment to them, then. Perhaps tomorrow,’ he said, sitting across from her and reaching for the coffee pot. ‘However … what is our schedule for today? Back to the manufactory, of course, but then what?’

‘I want to see the damaged kiln, speak to the men who work it and have further discussion with Nathaniel about the other recent problems.’ Then, smiling a little, ‘That done, we’ll see what progress has been made in the rooms set aside for the exhibition … and I’ll give you the half-crown tour – which, as the cost will tell you, is vastly superior to the sixpenny one.’

Daniel fished the necessary coin from his purse, slapped it on the table and pushed it towards her. ‘Done. Cheap at twice the price, I’m sure.’

***

Daniel found the kiln both fascinating and impressive. It was housed in a large brick-built structure resembling a squat bottle and, internally, was like nothing he had ever seen before. After his fifth question, Anna introduced him to the foreman while she spoke to the men who had been working with the kiln at the time of the disaster. She came away no wiser. Daniel walked away with a head full of unfamiliar terms and technical information that only increased his curiosity. As he and Anna walked back across the yard to the main building, he said, ‘I suppose you know all about saggars and blow-holes and bonts, don’t you?’

‘Yes. Papa started teaching me about the firing process when I was eight.’ She glanced sideways at him. ‘I didn’t think you’d be particularly interested.’

‘Neither did I,’ he shrugged. ‘But until today I had no idea how dangerous and complex the work is – such as the business of temperature, for example. I understand you use Mr Wedgwood’s invention for that.’

‘Yes. It isn’t always entirely accurate but it’s the best method anyone has come up with so far.’

‘So Roberts said. I asked if I could see inside the undamaged kiln but he said it’s sealed and mid-way through firing. Something which,’ he gestured to the black clouds billowing through the air above them, ‘I might perhaps have noticed for myself. Does it always generate so much smoke?’

‘Pot banks burn coal so, yes. With only Hawthorne’s and Worcester Porcelain, it’s not too bad here. But in Stoke-on-Trent where there are numerous potteries cheek-by-jowl, the people say it’s a fine day if you can see across the road.’ And, with a wry smile, ‘Like most things, pot banks have their downside.’

Inside, the two former offices were now linked by means of a large archway. Glass-fronted cabinets were already being fixed to the newly painted walls in one of them and Anna was informed that the larger showcases that would sit below them were almost ready for delivery.

She smiled, nodded and then, leading Daniel into the second, as yet empty room, ‘This is where your mother’s scent bottles will live – pride of place, I thought, in the centre of the floor, allowing visitors to see them from all angles.’

‘Mama will be delighted with that, I’m sure. What else will you put in here?’

‘We’re still deciding. But, if you want to see everything, we’d best get started. There’s a great deal of ground to cover.’

She took him first to the design rooms where some dozen men and women drew, discarded and re-drew everything from tableware to grand urns in the Chinese style. But none of them, Daniel noticed, were designing scent bottles. He said so.

‘That work is for limited edition wares and thus confidential. So the designers, master-potters and painters who do it occupy a separate area, off-limits to visitors and the rest of the workforce.’

‘And me?’ he asked.

‘Perhaps.’ She gave him an oddly disquieting smile. ‘If you last the course, I’ll think about it.’

At the end of an hour, Daniel had seen storehouses containing everything required in production, from china clay to paint pigments and been educated in the six stages of clay. He’d watched vases and articles of tableware rising from wheels under the magic hands of potters and walked past vast racks of these drying out prior to firing. At the end of two hours and a lesson on the metamorphosis that took place inside the kiln, he’d seen fired wares being decorated. Much of the tableware was done by means of transfers, virtually everything else was hand-painted; all of it had another drying period before being glazed. And mid-way through hour three, when his mind was overflowing with technical details and his body beginning to wilt, Anna unlocked a door at the end of a corridor and led him into a light, spacious room where three young men sat at large desks resembling those used by architects.

Immediately realising where he was, Daniel murmured, ‘I’m honoured.’

‘You are,’ she agreed.

Meanwhile, the designers had come to their feet, smiling, to bid her a good day. And one, a little older than the rest, said, ‘It’s always a pleasure to see you, Miss Anna – my lady, I should say. Been giving his lordship the tour, have you?’

‘I have – and this is the part of Hawthorne’s that he most wanted to see.’

‘Not entirely true. I wanted to see all of it … and my brain and my feet are telling me that surely I must have done so,’ said Daniel a shade ruefully, ‘But over the years, my late father purchased many Hawthorne scent bottles, so I have a particular interest in them.’ Then, turning to Anna, ‘But won’t you introduce us, my dear?’

The unexpected endearment made her heart turn over even though she knew it didn’t mean anything. She said, ‘Of course. Meet Messrs Dawkins, Barrow and Spencer; each of them is responsible for creating four designs a year, one for each season. These take time, are frequently revised and, because the actual production is lengthy, have to be begun well in advance. As you’ll see in a moment, next year’s spring collection is already in the latter stages of production – so it’s the designs for next summer that are currently in hand here.’

‘A pleasure to meet you, gentlemen,’ said Daniel. And gesturing to their work, ‘Do you mind if I look?’

‘Not at all, milord,’ replied Dawkins, apparently the group’s appointed spokesman. ‘Reckon her ladyship wouldn’t have brought you in here if’n she thought you was a spy.’

Daniel laughed and sauntered from one table to the next, chatting pleasantly with each man about the subject he had chosen and admiring their meticulous execution. Finally, addressing all of them, he said, ‘Some of your drawings are painted and some not. Why is that?’

‘The potters need to see every detail very clear, milord. And the painters need the complete picture. You’ll understand better when her ladyship takes you next door.’

‘Next door’ were two adjoining rooms, the first being occupied by the master-potters. Here, Daniel learned that the scent bottles were sculpted in wax, then in clay and fired before undergoing a process called ‘tooling’. This made his head spin since it involved taking the piece apart and remodelling the sections to make the inside as smooth as the outer one and finally fusing them back into the finished article.

‘Good Lord,’ he said, gazing from the shelves of everything from discarded moulds to the completed bottles and their caps, awaiting final firing. ‘I had no idea.’

‘People never do,’ replied Anna smugly. ‘But come to the next room and meet the painters. This winter’s collection has been decorated, fired and is being glazed. And leading the way through the door, ‘You’ll remember Mrs Thompson, I daresay? She is the forewoman here.’

Recognising the female who had assisted with the valuation, Daniel greeted her with a nod and a smile.

Anna said, ‘We won’t bother you for long, Sarah.’ And, again to Daniel, ‘As I told you, only three of each are made and no two are completely alike. You may enjoy trying to spot the differences.’

She was right. He did enjoy it though he didn’t find it easy. Then, since the caps were still separate from the body of the pieces, he said, ‘Who attaches these?’

‘The silversmith. For obvious reasons, we don’t allow the bottles to leave the premises. So when all the pieces of a season’s collection are ready, he comes here and completes the work in a secure area which is furnished with any non-transportable equipment he needs. After that, the completed wares are locked away until delivery is due. And that, my lord,’ she finished with a small smile, ‘is the end of the tour. Thank you for your kind attention.’

Daniel grinned back. ‘Is it customary to offer the guide a gratuity?’

‘It’s not obligatory. But you could reward me with tea at the Talbot where they will also be able to supply you with something stronger, if you feel the need for it.’

***

A short time later, comfortably ensconced in the coffee room of the inn and holding a tankard of ale whilst watching Anna pour a cup of tea, Daniel said, ‘Thank you for that. I really didn’t have any idea how complex it all is – but also suspect you may have simplified it quite a lot.’

‘A little, perhaps, but not so very much. We have a much shorter, watered-down version for chance visitors arriving on a whim.’

‘Which excludes the scent-bottles,’ he said with a smile.

‘Yes. Of course, if you really wanted to understand every element of the entire process – and I can’t imagine why you would – it would require several visits.’ She added sugar to her cup and stirred it thoughtfully before saying, ‘The winter collection becomes available on the first of December and is already fully subscribed or I would earmark one for your mother as a Yuletide gift. As it is, the best I can do is reserve the only bottle still available in the spring collection for her … if you think she might like it?’

‘Not only would she like it,’ he replied, ‘she would appreciate the kindness of the gesture – as do I.’

Anna flushed a little and sipped her tea instead of replying, thus giving Daniel the opportunity to say curiously, ‘I gather your own mother doesn’t collect them?’

‘No. She prefers Mr Wedgwood’s blue jasperware.’

‘Those would be the pieces with white emblems or whatever embossed on them?’

She nodded. ‘It’s very popular at present – there being nothing quite like it.’

‘But the same is true of your scent bottles, surely?’

‘Not quite. Other pot banks do manufacture those – though naturally we believe ours are superior. And, as with most things, the fact that there are so few available makes them highly desirable.’

‘Whose notion was that?’

‘My father’s. In addition to his manufacturing knowledge and artistic ability, he had a very sound business head.’

‘Which it appears you have inherited.’ This time his smile had an acidic edge. ‘You are to be congratulated on that. And envied.’

***

Back at Hawthorne Lodge and the instant Anna was through the door, the butler murmured, ‘May I have a word, my lady?’

‘Certainly. What is it?’

‘In private, perhaps?’

Her brows rose but she crossed to the visitors’ parlour. Then, seeing Daniel about to absent himself, she said, ‘Don’t go. Privacy doesn’t exclude you. Well, Sedley?’

‘There was an unexpected and – and somewhat awkward development during your absence this afternoon, my lady.’

‘Which was?’

‘A visitor. A gentleman you had instructed was not to be admitted.’

Before Anna could open her mouth, Daniel said sharply, ‘Harvill?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘And precisely how,’ queried Anna, ‘was that awkward?’

‘Because he did not ask for you, my lady,’ came the unhappy reply. ‘He was here to see Mrs Hawthorne.’

‘ What? ’ said Daniel and Anna in unison.

Sedley nodded. ‘Furthermore, he said his call would not be unexpected … so I was obliged to ask Mrs Hawthorne if that was so.’

‘And she said that it was?’ groaned Anna.

‘Yes. She demanded that I admit him. And when I explained that your ladyship had previously given orders not to do so, she pointed out that – that you no longer reside here.’ The butler all but wrung his hands. ‘What was I to do? I had no choice.’

‘No,’ agreed Anna crisply. ‘You didn’t. Very well, Sedley. Thank you.’

He bowed and made a more than usually hasty exit.

As soon as the door closed behind him, she said, ‘Where on earth can Harvill and Mama have met? And, more to the point, what game is he playing now?’

‘She can answer the first of those questions. I suspect we know the answer to the second,’ he replied. ‘Perhaps it would be best if I stay out of the way during your initial foray? And that is not cowardice talking – or not only that. I suspect you’ll get greater honesty if I’m not there.’

‘Probably,’ sighed Anna. Then, gloomily, ‘They say that these things come in threes. So what next, I wonder?’

‘They – whoever they are – say a good many frequently unhelpful things.’ Drawing her to the door and opening it, he said, ‘I’ll wait in the library. Good luck.’

As expected, Anna found her mother in the drawing-room and, coming directly to the point, said, ‘Sedley tells me that Mr Harvill called and you received him.’

‘I did. And why should I not , pray? What right have you to dictate what visitors I receive in my own home?’

‘At the time I gave orders to deny Mr Harvill it was my home, too and – ’

‘And now it is not,’ snapped Mrs Hawthorne. ‘So I will decide who is and who is not admitted.’

As yet, Anna could see no way around this so, taking the chair opposite to her mother and hoping she could prevent this turning into a full-blown argument, said, ‘Of course. May I ask when and where you and Mr Harvill met?’

‘Why on earth does that matter?’

‘Humour me, please.’

‘Oh, very well. First, at Mrs Denton-West’s card party last month and at several other events since then. He is a perfectly pleasant gentleman.’

‘I have found him otherwise,’ remarked Anna. ‘He has been plaguing me to – ’

‘I know what his business was with you! He has told me about it, although he would not have done so but for Sedley refusing to admit him today. So I know all about your foolishly obstinate attitude towards him and that he has made several very good offers for Hawthorne’s which you’ve refused to so much as discuss with him.’

So that’s it, is it? thought Anna, unsurprised. He thinks Mama will help him get what he wants. One would hope that, by now, he might have understood that, the more he pushes, the more determined he makes my refusal .

She said flatly, ‘And I will continue to do so – as you may tell him yourself when, as I’m sure it will, the subject comes up again. Hawthorne’s is not for sale.’

‘Don’t be so foolish, Anna! You are a viscountess now. What do you want with a manufactory? To be associated with trade? Selling is the perfect answer – and I’m sure his lordship will agree with me.’

‘No, he won’t. I will not sell, Mama. Not to Mr Harvill; not to anyone. You would do well to convince him of that if you intend to continue with this … friendship. Is that what you believe it is?’

‘Of course that’s what it is. And why not?’

‘Well, let’s think, shall we? I suppose there’s no point in stating the obvious. That he’s merely using you?’

‘He said you would say that.’

‘Of course he did. Sadly, that doesn’t make it any less true.’ Rising again, she turned to leave. ‘I’d recommend that you bear that in mind … but I don’t suppose you will.’

Mrs Hawthorne stared at her. ‘You’re going? Just like that?’

‘There seeming to be nothing else to say,’ remarked Anna caustically, ‘yes. I’m going. Just like that.’ And she walked out.

In the library, she shut the door behind her and leaned against it.

‘That was quick,’ said Daniel, setting aside the newspaper he’d been reading and coming to his feet. ‘How did it go?’

‘Much as one would expect. Harvill has worked his way into her social circle, which is how she met him. He’s told her about his dealings with me in such a way as to make himself sound perfectly reasonable and me the exact opposite.’ Anna crossed the room to sit down facing him. ‘And Mama has swallowed it all wholesale. Needless to say, she thinks his offer for Hawthorne’s is heaven-sent and that I should accept it. She is also confident that you will think the same.’

‘I assume you told her that I don’t?’

She nodded. Then, looking down at her hands, ‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Despite our agreement?’ he asked. ‘And after today? Yes. Completely sure. Don’t doubt that for so much as a second.’ He thought for a moment and then said, ‘I suggest we call on Mr Landry in the morning before setting off home. He can inform his investigator of Harvill’s latest ploy. I also suggest asking Sedley to keep a record of how many times he visits your mother here. It may be of no use whatsoever but one never knows.’

***

Their second night at Hawthorne Lodge might have passed in the same way as the first had not both of them forgotten about the bolster because they were too busy analysing the events of the day to remember it. The result was that each of them retired to their own side of the bed – whereupon Daniel fell asleep almost instantly and Anna, though still acutely conscious of his proximity, not very long after. Much later, as dawn was just beginning to creep through the curtains, she awoke to the sensation of a hard, warm body pressed against her back and an arm lying across her midriff trapping her there.

At that point, Anna lay mouse-still, half-afraid to breathe. Then she realised that Daniel must have turned over in his sleep and was unaware of his current position. When she managed to force her brain to work, she came to the conclusion that it might be best if he woke to suppose her equally ignorant. Meanwhile, however, she lay wide awake, determined to treasure these probably all-too-brief but utterly blissful moments of actually lying in his arms.

She knew when he woke … and also, a scant moment later, when he realised where he was. She lay perfectly still and tried, as best she was able, to breathe evenly as, very slowly and carefully, he uncoiled from her and left the bed. It wasn’t until Anna heard the dressing-room door quietly closing behind him that she dared let her rigid muscles relax. Then, groaning, she shoved her face into the pillow and prayed she had got away with it. If she hadn’t, the drive home was going to be either embarrassing or several steps beyond awkward if he asked why she hadn’t pushed him away.

Shaving in tepid water for the second day running, Daniel acknowledged and tried, with a minimum of success, not to dwell on the surge of pleasure of waking to find himself wrapped around a warm, soft woman; a woman, moreover, he was entitled to wrap himself around. But that wasn’t the point, was it? Anna had seemingly slept on, oblivious. But had she? Not entirely impossible, he thought … but unlikely. And if she hadn’t, she was clearly intent on making him think she had – probably to spare them both the embarrassment of having to talk about it. He didn’t want to do that any more than she did. Consequently, since she was giving him that option, it would be sensible to take it. Wouldn’t it?

Suddenly irritated with himself, he dried his face and reached for a clean shirt. This kind of mental tiptoeing wasn’t like him – and over what, for God’s sake? He’d cuddled her. Just that. Nothing had actually happened. He finished dressing and walked back into the bedchamber. Anna was sitting up in bed, giving an only slightly overdone appearance of having recently awoken.

‘Good morning,’ she said, sliding into her robe without looking at him.

And that was when Daniel knew.

But he simply said, ‘Good morning. Shall I ring for the maid?’

~**~** ~