The girls had mentioned something about Turner Textiles, but Althea hadn’t given it much thought. They certainly hadn’t mentioned that he was part owner.
“Join me for tea and I’ll explain.”
She would like nothing more, especially since the topic was something other than his nieces. Speaking of which, “Where are the girls?” She assumed they’d returned with him.
“At Mrs. Hawthorn’s home,” he answered, then tugged on the bellpull just inside the parlor.
“Charlotte is an artist and gives the girls lessons when she is available. Today is one of those days.”
Yet, he still hadn’t explained why he was not with them when Mrs. Hawthorn had clearly been anticipating his presence. Did she press and ask?
Did it really matter? They were free of the nieces and even though Althea adored them, it was nice to know that she could enjoy a conversation with Lord Melcombe without fear of interruption, not that they ever interrupted following dinner, but this was a different circumstance.
Mrs. Wilson appeared at the entry of the parlor.
“Could you please have tea delivered?” Melcombe asked.
“Of course, Lord Melcombe.” She slipped from the parlor as Althea settled into a chair.
“The mill had been in the Turner family for decades, but when Mr. Turner lost his son in battle, he decided to sell. My cousin and I decided to purchase the mill instead of allowing a stranger to do so, which would have left an uncertain future for the residents who are employed at the mill.”
“I’m assuming the textiles produced are wool.” It would explain the abundance of sheep she’d seen on his property and during her walk into the village.
He nodded. “Our wool was mostly used for military uniforms, and it was rare that anything wasn’t dyed to match the regimental red, grey, black or white. Now that Napoleon has been defeated, the demand for uniforms isn’t so great.
“I assume you’ve changed production.”
“We hope to not only improve on the quality of wool but colors and patterns as well, which is why Charlotte was delivering the swatches to Monique.”
She understood the need to change their manufacturing, but it still didn’t explain Mrs. Hawthorn’s role.
“In order to transition, Charlotte, being an artist, has been creating new and unusual dyes and patterns for weaving.”
Now she understood. “Being an artist, she has an eye for what is pleasing.”
“At least with regard to women’s fashion. Alec nor I have any idea what is fashionable, and between Charlotte and Monique, they guide us in what should be produced.”
Althea found the entire enterprise quite fascinating, especially since two men were asking for and accepting the opinions of women. Such was unheard of in most parts of England, and certainly in London. In fact, Althea couldn’t remember the last time anyone had asked her opinion on anything, but her male cousins were consulted often.
Chapter Nine
Thiswasthemomenthe’d been waiting for. He and Miss Claywell were alone and talking on a topic that did not involve his nieces. If they could spend the afternoon in this manner, it would go far in helping him in furthering their relationship beyond their current association.
“Preston are you about?” a voice called, and Preston groaned. His cousin had the worst timing.
“I’ve just come from luncheon with Charlotte and as your nieces are there…” Alec trailed off when he noted Miss Claywell.
“Ah, Miss Claywell, so it is true,” Alec greeted. “I learned today that you were the new governess. Is that so?”
“Lord Harwich, it’s pleasant to see you again. Yes, you are correct.”
His cousin turned and offered a questioning glance to Preston before he strode for the sideboard and began to pour a brandy.
“Why are you here, Alec?” Preston ground out.
“As the children are painting, I thought we could go for a ride, but since you are entertaining, I’ll simply enjoy your brandy.”
In that instant, Preston recalled the night not long after his brother’s funeral when the two of them had sat and drank far too much brandy. Preston had confessed his desire for Miss Claywell. Each time they shared a glass since that evening, Alec always returned to the subject of Miss Claywell, which eventually had led to Preston asking his uncle to make an offer of marriage.
