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Edward had longed to carve even the smallest design on the bats, but he knew he’d be criticized. Instead, he’d branded his business name near the handle.

Steele and Son

Woodwork

He really ought to change that name. But what would the business be called without Father?

Steele and No Son?

One Steele and One Steele Alone?

“Will they suffice, my lord?” Edward asked, ready to be done with this whole affair.

Lord Ryecombe waited another moment to respond. “What type of wood is this?”

“Real English willow, my lord.” As if he’d use anything else.

Lord Ryecombe was clearly well-versed in cricket and knew exactly what wood was needed to prevent cracking under the pressure of hitting fast-moving balls. He was no doubt simply testing Edward with the question. Yet another condescending action often used by the upper class.

Finally, the man looked up with a nod, the ends of his eyebrows sticking out like a tomcat’s whiskers. “Yes. These will do. I admit, Mr. Steele, you’ve impressed me. I did not expect such high-quality work.”

Typical patronizing flattery. Edward was not one to unnecessarily boast of his capabilities, but he was also not unaware of his own talents. He could beautify a piece of wood with a dinner knife if he was required to do so.

Very well, that was a bit of a stretch. But still, it was not in his nature to perform half a job. He’d spent longer than he cared to admit studying depictions of cricket bats and staring at them through shop windows. He’d even expressed a feigned interest in purchasing one in order to hold it to recreate the latest style, size, and weight.

“I’m pleased they will do, my lord,” Edward responded as humbly as he was able to. It would not do to offend the man who had not yet paid him. Speaking of being paid. “If you are satisfied, Lord Ryecombe, shall we settle accounts so I can leave you to your guests?”

He’d always felt just a twinge of discomfort bringing up payment to his employers, but lately, he had to forgo his embarrassment. He couldn’t afford to be embarrassed.

“Certainly,” Lord Ryecombe said, wrapping up the bats in the leather once again, “just as soon as the match finishes and we are assured that the bats withstand the rigors of the game.”

Edward blinked. “My lord, I was under the impression that we had agreed for the payment to be settled the moment the package was delivered.”

Lord Ryecombe’s brow wrinkled, forming more layers on his forehead than Mother’s trifle. “Why in heaven’s name would I pay you before your work has proven itself?”

Edward’s chest tightened. He was already months behind in paying his rent for his woodshop. If he didn’t receive that payment, he would lose the shop and then bid farewell to his one source of income. He and Mother would have nothing. No food, no home, no prospects.

Edward drew in a steadying breath. “As you can see, I have already expended the wood and completed the bats. Should one of them fail, it would not be due to my craftsmanship.”

“Do you think the bats will falter?”

Edward straightened his spine. “No, my lord.”

Lore Ryecombe smiled wryly. “Then you really oughtn’t be concerned.”

“Lord Ryecombe, I—”

“Do not forget, Mr. Steele, that I am doing you a favor. After what has been said about your father, it is a miracle, indeed, that I even requested the job of you at all.”

Edward’s jaw twitched. All who knew him—inconsequential woodworker that he was—were not blind as to where he stood in regard to the rumors surrounding Father. Unfortunately, Lord Ryecombe was just like everyone else, listening to the tittle-tattle of gossips around Bath instead of knowing Father’s character and what he stood for.

Lord Ryecombe raised his chin in a challenge. What little remaining sprigs of hair he had atop his head floated about in the breeze like wheat in a field.

Would that Edward could tell him such a thing.

“Do you understand, Mr. Steele?”

If Edwarddid not need Lord Ryecombe’s commission—and if Mother did not wish to eat that evening—Edward would have very much liked to introduce the man’s pristinely tailored breeches to the lush grass they stood upon.