whatever happened to them, they remained wealthy in other ways. Their family was intact and they loved each other. They would take care of each other; she could rely on their support. And their love. Somehow she had lost sight of that. It was back in sharp focus now.
Hester hugged her, patting her back, murmuring that she would be all right, they all would be. They would adjust.
At last, Victoria calmed enough to raise her ravaged face from her mother’s lap. “Will you help me tell Georgina?”
Her mother smiled at her and shook her head. “No, dear. You are to go upstairs and take a long bath. You must be exhausted from your journey and your efforts on our behalf. I will explain the circumstances to Georgina. I will also ask cook to delay supper by thirty minutes to allow you the time you need to rest and freshen up.”
“But—”
“No, Victoria. You’ve done enough for now. Let others help too. I can manage this. Georgina will understand.”
* * *
Georgina did indeed appear to understand as the family lingered over their evening meal, debating suitable neighbourhoods where reasonable but inexpensive lodgings might be secured. They would look for somewhere near the mill, perhaps even take one of the workers’ cottages should a property become vacant. The largest ones had two bedrooms, which they could manage if the two sisters shared. They would retain a maid if their means stretched to it, though she would not live in.
“I could work too. Perhaps as a governess.” Georgina made the offer in good faith, though neither her sister nor her mother was inclined to seize upon the suggestion. The youngest Wynne was an artist by natural leaning, a talented one at that. She specialised in water colours. Georgina could perhaps offer private art lessons, should matters come to that. Meanwhile Victoria retained a healthy optimism that her proposal to Mr. Luke would be their salvation. She was relying on it.
* * *
The morning after her return from London, Victoria made her way to the mill as usual. She entered through her private door at the rear and ascended the steps to her office. She had no sooner seated herself behind her desk than Mr. Timmins appeared at her door. He did not knock, just entered and sat down opposite her.
“So?” He did not stand on ceremony.
Victoria did not expect him to. “So, it went well. I think.”
“The mill is ours once more?”
She did not correct his possessive pronoun. Mr. Timmins was as much engaged in this as the rest of her family were. “Not yet, though I hope to be able to rectify that situation in due course. I have made an offer to buy the mill back.”
“I see. Are we in a position to identify sufficient funds for this?”
“You know that we are not. I have offered to work for Mr. Luke, for a salary, and a share in the profits.” She went on to outline her proposition, and Mr. Luke’s reaction to it. She made no mention of his other, less formal suggestions to her regarding sleeping arrangements, nor her conflicted response to them.
“Do you trust him? If he is to be your business partner, that will be essential.”
“I find myself with little choice in the matter, but yes, I do trust him.” It was true, she did. This fact surprised her somewhat, but there it was. “He even said he would restore any personal funds I might have invested in the business, though I had not asked for that. It will be a considerable sum and may prove very useful in the coming months. I am thinking I might ask to take my money in shares, at least in part, once my family’s removal expenses are met.”
Her clerk nodded, seemingly in full accord with her need to regain a hold, however slender, on the property she adored and considered rightly hers. “On a related subject, we have received word from the bank that our accounts are unfrozen. Mr. Norman offers his apologies for any inconvenience.”
Victoria nodded, pleased at this further evidence in support of
Hester hugged her, patting her back, murmuring that she would be all right, they all would be. They would adjust.
At last, Victoria calmed enough to raise her ravaged face from her mother’s lap. “Will you help me tell Georgina?”
Her mother smiled at her and shook her head. “No, dear. You are to go upstairs and take a long bath. You must be exhausted from your journey and your efforts on our behalf. I will explain the circumstances to Georgina. I will also ask cook to delay supper by thirty minutes to allow you the time you need to rest and freshen up.”
“But—”
“No, Victoria. You’ve done enough for now. Let others help too. I can manage this. Georgina will understand.”
* * *
Georgina did indeed appear to understand as the family lingered over their evening meal, debating suitable neighbourhoods where reasonable but inexpensive lodgings might be secured. They would look for somewhere near the mill, perhaps even take one of the workers’ cottages should a property become vacant. The largest ones had two bedrooms, which they could manage if the two sisters shared. They would retain a maid if their means stretched to it, though she would not live in.
“I could work too. Perhaps as a governess.” Georgina made the offer in good faith, though neither her sister nor her mother was inclined to seize upon the suggestion. The youngest Wynne was an artist by natural leaning, a talented one at that. She specialised in water colours. Georgina could perhaps offer private art lessons, should matters come to that. Meanwhile Victoria retained a healthy optimism that her proposal to Mr. Luke would be their salvation. She was relying on it.
* * *
The morning after her return from London, Victoria made her way to the mill as usual. She entered through her private door at the rear and ascended the steps to her office. She had no sooner seated herself behind her desk than Mr. Timmins appeared at her door. He did not knock, just entered and sat down opposite her.
“So?” He did not stand on ceremony.
Victoria did not expect him to. “So, it went well. I think.”
“The mill is ours once more?”
She did not correct his possessive pronoun. Mr. Timmins was as much engaged in this as the rest of her family were. “Not yet, though I hope to be able to rectify that situation in due course. I have made an offer to buy the mill back.”
“I see. Are we in a position to identify sufficient funds for this?”
“You know that we are not. I have offered to work for Mr. Luke, for a salary, and a share in the profits.” She went on to outline her proposition, and Mr. Luke’s reaction to it. She made no mention of his other, less formal suggestions to her regarding sleeping arrangements, nor her conflicted response to them.
“Do you trust him? If he is to be your business partner, that will be essential.”
“I find myself with little choice in the matter, but yes, I do trust him.” It was true, she did. This fact surprised her somewhat, but there it was. “He even said he would restore any personal funds I might have invested in the business, though I had not asked for that. It will be a considerable sum and may prove very useful in the coming months. I am thinking I might ask to take my money in shares, at least in part, once my family’s removal expenses are met.”
Her clerk nodded, seemingly in full accord with her need to regain a hold, however slender, on the property she adored and considered rightly hers. “On a related subject, we have received word from the bank that our accounts are unfrozen. Mr. Norman offers his apologies for any inconvenience.”
Victoria nodded, pleased at this further evidence in support of
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