Chapter Eight
The day the member of Parliament, Giles Liddell, was set to arrive at Milton House was one of pure madness.
Jane had never witnessed the speed with which Mrs. Milton moved about the house, like a busy little worker bee, buzzing back and forth in a massive hive.
In fact, everyone was moving with such speed and determination, Jane felt likely to be run over if she got in the way.
“Jane!” Mrs. Milton shouted, startling her as she exited the dining room after breakfast. “There you are. My dear, I need you to go with Sam to Dr. Hall’s office, to bring the monthly deliveries.”
“I beg your pardon?” Jane asked, unsure. “What deliveries?”
“Oh, dear, I haven’t explained it yet. Here,” she said as Samuel came hurrying down the staircase, buttoning his vest as he did so. “Samuel, Jane will have to go with you today. Mr. Liddell will be here by teatime, and I have too much to handle here.”
“I could manage it alone,” he said evenly, without looking at Jane. “There’s no need to drag Miss Atherton out into the rain today.”
Mrs. Harris shook her head.
“No, I really would rather her go with you, so that she can get a handle on it. I’m hoping she will take charge of the monthly deliveries to Gallowgate from now on.”
“Oh, right,” Samuel said, glancing at Jane. “Very well then. I’ll grab an umbrella.”
Jane’s cloak was then foisted upon her by an unseen maid, who all but pushed her toward the front door.
This house certainly did not dawdle.
Samuel took her arm into his as he escorted her out of the house beneath his umbrella, though the slanted freezing rain blasted them as they made the short journey to the waiting carriage.
Upon entering it, Jane was stunned to see that it had been packed nearly completely with baskets filled with all sorts of fare.
Foods, threads, ribbons, fabric, tonics, soaps, and the like had been carefully packed and stacked inside the carriage so that only one seat remained open.
She and Samuel would have to sit next to one another.
As soon as they were seated, the carriage took off, causing Jane to come off balance as she practically fell into Samuel’s lap. For a brief moment, neither moved, until she came to her senses and scrambled off him as his hands helped to set her right. She gave him a sheepish glance.
“So sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” he said evenly, though the color in his cheeks appeared to be somewhat heightened. “Delivery day is always a bit frantic.”
It appeared he had shaved this morning, which had been something Jane had unwittingly started to take note of.
Though his black mustache was always immaculately kept, he often would let the rest of his face become scruffy, sometimes for several days in a row, before his cheeks and chin were shaved clean.
There appeared to be no rhyme or reason to when he shaved, but Jane wondered if perhaps one of the staff had to remind him to do so.
“May I ask,” she started as she tried to lean as far away from him as possible, though their legs were pressed together due to the cramped space. “What exactly is delivery day?”
“Milton Enterprises runs a charity for the less fortunate members of Glasgow. Once a month, baskets are made up to be delivered to the workhouses in Gallowgate, among others. Usually, the baskets are retrieved after a week and the cycle begins again.”
“That’s very generous of you,” Jane said evenly.
Though she had tried to sound indifferent, Samuel tilted his head to the side.
“Do you not believe in charity, Miss Atherton?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then why do you sound so irritated about it?”
Jane leveled a suspicious gaze at him, though her brain had been working to figure him out for days.
She wasn’t sure why someone of his standing would be so invested in charity.
Everything he did seemed to be tied to some noble reason or pursuit, and frankly, Jane didn’t believe that it was purely altruistic.
“Because I’ve never known a person to be so concerned with his fellow man. It makes me question your intent.”
His brows lifted.
“And what do you think I’m intending to accomplish through my charitable work?”
“I do not pretend to know why you do the things you do.”
His expression was dubious, and though she was trying to remain emotionless, she couldn’t ignore the fact that the way his mustache twitched whenever he was challenged clawed at the back of her mind. Did she find it annoying? Attractive? She couldn’t quite say and yet, it was distracting.
“But isn’t that what they teach in the church? To be a compassionate person and to be good to your counterparts.”
“Are you a religious man, Mr. Milton?”
“On the contrary, I don’t believe in God.”
That stunned her. She gaped at him for a moment before finding her voice.
“I beg your pardon. What do you mean you don’t believe in God?”
“Just that. I don’t believe in him. Nor do I believe that the good of man should be reduced to the idea that virtuous deeds will lead to rewards in the hereafter.” He glanced at her. “We shouldn’t need promises of heaven to treat each other with respect. We should do it regardless.”
She squinted at him.
“So that everyone else might see you as some sort of hero?”
He grinned at her and she had to beat down the sudden surge of temptation that flooded her. He smiled too easily and the logical part of her needed to remember that.
“Why are you so sure that everything I do is weighed down with some ulterior motive? Mr. Tompkins told me you were asking him questions the other day.”
“Yes. I was going through the larder with your mother, and I was curious as to why the house had ordered nearly twice as much flour as is fitting for a house this size.”
“How do you know about household stores?”
“My mother did run Atherton Hall for most of my life. It was part of my education in that house to know how to take inventory and decide what could be afforded per month. Which is why I took issue with the amount of flour Harris House goes through. There’s no conceivable way the house goes through a single ton of flour every month.
That’s over two thousand pounds of flour. ”
“Is it?” She nodded. “Well, why wouldn’t we be able to go through that amount?”
“Because, it doesn’t add up. You have a staff of thirty, plus you, your parents, each of whom has personal secretaries. That’s only thirty-six people.”
“You’re forgetting the clerks. There are thirty of them as well.”
“Yes, I discussed as much with Mr. Tompkins. But even if you fed them breakfast as well as dinner, as opposed to just luncheon, you’d still have some left over, yet when I pointed that out, Mr. Tompkins informed me that there was never any left over.
” She inhaled slowly before saying the next part. “I’m afraid someone might be stealing.”
If she had expected Samuel to be surprised or even mildly concerned, she had expected wrong.
Samuel’s mouth curved beneath his dark mustache and Jane had to hold tightly to her words, because at that moment, she nearly forgot what she was talking about.
Why would the hint of a smile from him make her feel so warm and confused?
“While I appreciate your concern for the house’s budget, Miss Atherton, I can assure you that no one is stealing.”
She shook her head.
“Then where did the last six hundred pounds of flour go to?” she asked.
Samuel tipped his head slowly, from side to side, his eyes bouncing all around the carriage. Jane looked around, confused at first, until she realized it. There were breads, scones and other baked goods in the baskets around them.
Instantly, Jane’s face began to warm. The extra flour had been used to make baked goods for the less fortunate.
“I see. You use the rest for your charities.”
“Well, not me personally, but the cook, Mrs. Walker does.”
Embarrassed that she had jumped to conclusions and hadn’t taken into account his charitable nature, Jane pressed herself back into the seat.
“Well, don’t I look like a fool now.”
“You aren’t a fool, Miss Atherton. Suspicious, maybe, but not a fool.”
“I suppose all my conversations with your staff are reported back to you?”
“No, not all of them,” he said with a wink. Jane bit her tongue to stop herself from smiling. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his jovial nature. “Just the ones that are interesting. Or critical.”
“Critical? If I were guessing as myself, I would say that you want to know about criticisms so that you could reprimand your staff, but somehow I feel you’re going to tell me I’m wrong about that as well?”
He gave her a puzzled look.
“Reprimand them? No, not at all. If you or anyone on my staff has an idea for improving some part of our operation, I’d like to know about it as soon as possible.”
She shook her head and laughed in spite of herself.
“I don’t understand you.”
His mustache twitched again and Jane had to look down at her hands in her lap. It shouldn’t be so difficult to look at a man. After a considerable amount of silence, Jane was sure she had offended him. But not a moment after thinking that thought, Samuel leaned toward her and whispered in her ear.
“It’s nice to trust people, Miss Atherton.
I personally know each and every person on my staff, from Mr. Tompkins all the way down to the scullery maids, Cathrine and Elise.
I know about their families, their friends, their celebrations, and their hardships.
And I trust each and every one of them implicitly.
Even if they were to steal, I know it wouldn’t be out of desire, but necessity.
And if their necessities aren’t being met, isn’t that my responsibility as their employer? ”
“So, you just trust your employees? All of them?”
“Absolutely.”