“A matter of public safety, ma’am. It has been submitted to the board that this building may present a hazard to persons assembling within it. A matter of structural integrity, adequacy of egress in the event of fire, and related concerns.” His voice carried to anyone on the street, which she was sure was his intent.
She took the papers then and unfolded them with deliberate calm. They were formally headed, with the crest of theMetropolitan Board of Works at the top, the date below, and beneath it several paragraphs of official language that she did not understand. At the foot of the page was a signature, and below that, a reference to the Metropolis Management Act of 1855.
“This is a notice regarding changes I must make by the end of the following month,” she said, reading to the end. “Then you will come and inspect my club. What will happen if you find my changes not in line with your compliance?”
Something shifted in Inspector Hartley’s expression, just the barest flicker. “You will be required to present yourself before the board’s surveyor at Spring Gardens within fourteen days, at which time you will be told of the consequences for noncompliance.”
“And may I ask who submitted this complaint?”
“The board does not disclose the identity of complainants.”
“No, I just bet it doesn’t, especially if it’s a man,” Tilly said, folding the papers back along their original creases.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Wilson, but we do not discriminate?—”
“Oh yes, you do.” She looked at him. This was not his fault. She knew that. He was just a man doing a job. “Thank you, Mr. Hartley. The board will have my response in due course.” She then looked at the papers again. “Where is the list of things I must improve?”
He hesitated briefly, and his eyes moved slightly to the right. “It’s there on the third page. Good day to you, Miss Wilson.” He touched the brim of the hat Tilly noted he had not removed in her presence and turned back down the front steps.
Tilly stood in the doorway a moment after he had gone, watching him leave, the folded notice in her hand.
She’d known, of course, that some were angry about herclub, but she’d been naive enough to believe they’d leave her alone once it was open.
She retreated inside and closed the door quietly, then went back to her office to place the papers on her desk. Tilly would deal with them later. Right now she was going downstairs to the lower floors to check all was well in the kitchen.
The club was still in its infancy, and she knew they would have problems and things to work through, but Tilly had high hopes and dreams, and she was going to fulfil every one. No one was stopping that from happening. If she weren’t to wed and have a family, she’d have the best women’s club in London, and no man was taking that from her.
She’d fight anyone who tried to stop her.
Descending the stairs with a lamp, as there was nothing to light the way, she found the cook up to her elbows in a bowl. Beside her were two young girls washing dishes.
“Everything all right, Pansy?” While she didn’t hire the woman because of her floral name, it certainly had helped, as had the sweet biscuits she’d baked for Tilly and Violet to try.
“All is well, Miss Wilson, I’m just making some scones.”
“Wonderful. At this early stage of proceedings, we don’t have a firm idea on what will be needed, so I thank you for understanding that.”
In direct contrast to her name, Pansy had a face that could stop ten oxen toeing a cart full of barrels. Her lips seemed always pressed into a hard line, and Tilly had yet to see her smile.
“We’ll be right, Miss Wilson. Between us, we’ll make it work. It’s a right good thing you’ve done here, giving those women up there a place to be themselves.”
“Thank you, Pansy. I am very grateful to you for those words,” she said solemnly. “Now we have quite a few ladies in the club today, so I’ll get you to organize some tea, and ifBetsy and Robyn could deliver it, I would be most grateful. Plus anything you have on hand for them to eat.”
“I’ve an apple cake, and some scones already in the oven. I’ll get a tray up to them shortly.”
She needed to hire a couple more maids, Tilly thought. Hopefully, Ruby could fill in there.
“I’m just going to have a look in those last two rooms, as Margaret needs one as her office.”
Members.The Iris Club had members. The thought sent a thrill of excitement through her.
“Right you are, and we’ll get that tea tray upstairs,” Pansy said.
Tilly’s father had said that the trick to having staff was treating them with kindness and always being fair. Just because someone is lucky enough to be born with extreme wealth does not make them any better than someone who was not, he said.
Leaving the kitchen, she went down the hallway and opened the first door. Not large, but big enough for a desk and a chair for Margaret. There was also a bookshelf against the far wall. As yet, she had not cleaned the room, but that wouldn’t take long. After setting the lamp onto the desk, Tilly went to the shelves and studied the titles. Most were in Latin. She pulled out the first volume and opened it, but as her Latin was adequate at best, she could only make out a few words without sitting down and really working at it. Tilly tucked it under her arm and pulled out the next one.
Violet could understood Latin, so perhaps she would like to read them. The next book was Latin also, but the fourth was another language. Tilly had no idea what it was.
