Chapter 9
Bert’s funeral was held at the Manchester Cathedral three days after he had died.
Mrs. Emerson, his secretary, helped Victoria to arrange it.
Victoria wrote the obituary herself, with her help, and Bert’s attorney’s.
William Eckles knew more of Bert’s personal information than anyone.
Much of it was unknown to Victoria, since Bert was a modest man and hadn’t mentioned many things to her.
She knew about his degree from Cambridge and the mills he owned, but there were many honors and awards that he had never talked about.
He was very philanthropic and had financed hospitals, orphanages, museums, homes for retired and injured factory workers, poverty programs, and many other charitable ventures in the Manchester area.
A thousand people attended Bert’s funeral and were seated inside the cathedral, including many of his foremen.
Outside, nearly four thousand factory workers were among the large crowd of people he had touched in some way, or who worked for him, or had benefited from his food programs for the poor and elderly.
Victoria had made a point of sending a message to Thor Lindqvist that one of the reserved seats for dignitaries would be held in his name, because she knew how much Bert had liked and respected him.
Bert was buried at his family mausoleum at the cemetery with his parents and his first wife, and all the relatives who had died before him.
Victoria had had the church filled with white flowers, and a blanket made of lily of the valley sent by her florist in London.
She had selected the music she thought Bert would have liked.
She did everything she could to honor him as the great man he was, and he had been genuinely admired and respected in Manchester, in his industry.
He was only sixty-three years old, at the height of his success, and happy with a woman he loved.
He was much too young to die. The several thousand people who could not fit into the cathedral stood respectfully outside for the length of the solemn service, followed the funeral cortege to the cemetery, and stood at a polite distance while the casket was placed in the wall of the mausoleum.
Victoria wore one of the plain black silk dresses she had worn while in mourning for her father.
Florence West had called her milliner in London and had her send an appropriately beautiful big black hat with the heavy black widow’s veil attached.
Victoria looked like an elegant and tragic figure as she sat in the front pew alone, walked behind the casket after the funeral, and stood watching Bert’s casket placed in the vault at the cemetery.
She felt as though her heart had been torn out of her chest and broken in a million pieces.
She didn’t know what to do and where to go now, or what would become of his mills and factories.
Bert had had a very efficient administrator named Hubert Maddox, who attended to all of his business.
He was seldom seen or heard from by the people Bert did business with, but Victoria knew that he was aware of every move Bert made in his business.
He was sort of a fail-safe system for when Bert was too busy himself, and he was a safeguard in case Bert ever fell ill, or couldn’t perform his duties.
Only Bert’s secretary, Victoria, and a few of his foremen were aware of the important role the administrator had.
Bert had thought of everything in order to keep things moving forward smoothly in the event that something unexpected would happen to him.
Maddox was the behind-the-scenes power behind the throne, which was an even more important role in an event such as this.
With no children and no heirs, Victoria had no idea what was to become of his business, but she was sure that Bert had made careful arrangements.
He was not someone who left things to chance, especially important ones.
He had taken his responsibilities very seriously, and she was sure that this would be no different.
She suspected that with no one to step into his shoes everything would have to be sold.
It made her sad to think of his life’s work and his greatest passion broken up and sold for parts, but there was no other choice.
The reading of the will was to take place on the Monday after the funeral.
Bert’s attorney William Eckles was coming to the house to do it, and all the people named in his will would be present.
Victoria didn’t know yet who they were. William Eckles hadn’t told her, and she hadn’t asked.
She didn’t care who inherited the money.
She would miss the man, not the money, and whoever he left his fortune to would undoubtedly need it more than she did.
Bert’s fortune had never been important to her, only the man she had come to know and love, as a result of the tragedy they had shared, which had brought them together.
After the burial at the cemetery, there was a reception at the house, by invitation only, which would give the mourners a chance to see friends and colleagues and talk about Bert.
The guests who came felt like an invading army to Victoria.
Many of them had never been to Bert’s home, so this was their one chance to satisfy their curiosity.
People asked her again and again what her plans were, and she didn’t know.
She had no reason to stay in Manchester.
She was loosely planning to move back to her own house in London, with no particular date in mind.
She wasn’t ready to leave yet, and wanted to hang on to things as they were for a while.
She wasn’t fully ready to separate from Bert yet, although she knew she had to in short order.
The house in Wilmslow was part of his estate, and the cottage in Yorkshire.
She didn’t belong there now without him.
Manchester was a bustling city to engage in the kind of industrial activity Bert was involved in.
Without him, it made no sense for her. She was a bystander, an observer, not an active player in the industry that was the life force of the city.
She was only his widow now, with no role to play.
She had seen familiar faces at the reception at the house, and caught a glimpse of Thor Lindqvist in the crowd in a proper suit, but he didn’t speak to her.
When their eyes met from the distance, he looked as devastated as she felt.
He had loved Bert for all he did and all he stood for, as she had, and they were both lost without him.
He had lost his protector, and she had lost hers, and the love of her life.
All of the other mill owners had come to the house afterward.
Each of them had respected Bert and had stories and experiences they’d shared.
She saw the Wheatons from the distance, and avoided them.
Florence West had tried to stay close to her as best she could, to lend her support.
Victoria had sent a telegram to Delphine as well, who had responded immediately that she was heartbroken for her, and urging her to come to New York, to start a new life.
Victoria had notified her households in London and Hampshire, who were expecting her imminent return, since she had no reason to stay in exile in Manchester now.
Everyone she knew in London from her past life had seen the obituary in The Times.
It was in the Manchester Evening News as well, prominently featured in both papers.
Letters of condolence were already arriving, many of which shocked her, from her old friends and acquaintances in London.
They extended their sympathy for her loss and made it clear that she was welcome to come back into the fold now, since Bert would no longer be with her.
She found their letters cruel, and she hated them for their rejection of him, even posthumously, as she read them.
He hadn’t deserved their refusal to accept him, and it made her more determined never to see them again, out of loyalty to the husband she had loved. They had never given him a chance.
When the reception was finally over and the house was quiet, she went upstairs to her study, and sat staring into space, still wearing her black silk dress.
She had no idea what to do now, where to go, or what she would fill her time with.
She had to pack for her return to London, and William Eckles and Hubert Maddox would dispose of the house.
Knowing Bert, she suspected that he had left large bequests to the charities he had supported during his lifetime.
Without children, he was free to dispose of his estate as he wished.
She was almost sorry now that she hadn’t had a child with him, to keep some part of him with her, but other than for that reason she still had no desire for children, and he had acceded to her wishes meticulously without complaint or regret.
He had done everything he could to honor her and make her happy.