Halwick set the cloth down with obvious reluctance. “I’ll take everything you can produce,” he said. “How much do you want for it?”
She opened her mouth?—
“Now, now,” Gerhard interrupted smoothly, stepping between them. “Let’s not be hasty. My niece is an artisan, not a merchant. She has no head for business, I’m afraid. Best to let me handle the negotiations.”
Halwick’s eyebrows rose slightly, his gaze flicking to her with something that might have been understanding, but he was a businessman, and her uncle clearly controlled the supply. Whatever sympathy he might have felt, profit would always come first.
“Very well,” Halwick said. “What terms do you propose?”
What followed was twenty minutes of negotiation that made her want to scream. Gerhard haggled over prices, demanded advances, promised quantities that would require her to work herself to exhaustion for months. He spoke of “our family enterprise” and “my niece’s special talents” as if he’d had any part in developing either.
And through it all, she stood silent, her eyes on the floor, feeling Dani’s worried gaze burning into her back.
Finally, a price was agreed upon—a sum that made her head spin. More money than she’d ever seen in her life. Enough money for her and Dani to live on for years. But she knew, with sickening certainty, that she would never see most of it.
“The medicine,” she said, the words escaping before she could stop them.
Both men turned to look at her. Gerhard’s expression flickered with warning, but Halwick nodded.
“Of course. I brought the shipment, as promised.” He reached into his coat and produced a small wooden case, opening it to reveal six glass bottles of pale blue liquid. “Enough to last several months, I should think.”
Relief flooded through Jessa so intensely she felt lightheaded. Six bottles. Six. Enough to keep Dani breathing easily through the winter, enough to?—
Gerhard’s hand closed around the case.
“I’ll take those,” he said smoothly. “For safekeeping, you understand. My niece is so focused on her work, she might forget to administer the doses properly. Better if I hold onto them and distribute as needed.”
No.
The word rose in her throat, hot and desperate, but Gerhard’s eyes met hers with unmistakable threat.Keep your mouth shut. Remember what’s at stake.
She looked at Dani, at her sister’s pale face and thin shoulders and fragile, precious life, and she said nothing.
Gerhard extracted one bottle from the case and handed it to her with a magnanimous smile. “There you are, my dear. That should see you through the next few weeks. When you need more, you know where to find me.”
After Halwick left—with promises to return in a month for more fabric and enthusiastic predictions about the fortune they would all make—Gerhard lingered.
He stood in the center of the cottage, the case of medicine tucked under his arm, regarding her with an expression of satisfied ownership.
“You did well today,” he said. “I was pleased to see you remembered our… understanding.”
Her jaw ached from clenching it. “I remembered.”
“Good. Good.” He moved towards the door, then paused. “About the payment from Halwick—I’ll be taking fifty percent, of course. For my assistance in securing the contract. And for administrative costs.”
“Fifty percent.” The words came out flat.
“It’s only fair.” His smile was all teeth, no warmth. “I’ve invested considerable effort in this venture. The introductions, the negotiations, the ongoing relationship with the trader—all ofthat takes time and skill. You should be grateful I’m not charging more.”
Grateful.She wanted to laugh, to cry, to take her mother’s spinning wheel and break it over his head.
But she thought of Dani and the single bottle of medicine on the table, of the five bottles her uncle was carrying away.
“I understand,” she said.
Gerhard’s smile widened. “I knew you would. You’re a practical girl, Jessa. Just like your mother.” He opened the door, letting in a gust of cold air. “I’ll expect the next batch of cloth in three weeks. Don’t disappoint me.”
Then he was gone, and she was left standing in the middle of her mother’s cottage, shaking with a rage she couldn’t express.
