Chapter 49
London
Lady Tremaine became Cam’s mentor. She planned Cam’s wardrobe for King’s Head and gowns for her social life in London when she visited her father’s house.
Summer clothes, fall clothes, riding habits, gloves, hats, the most wicked underclothes since, Lady Tremaine said, she had to spoil her husband, and on and on it went.
“When you return to London, we will shop for your gown for your sister’s wedding.
This is so pleasurable, Cam. I always wanted a daughter, but God sent me nothing but dirty little boys, who, thankfully, have grown up to be fine young gentlemen. So, I suppose I have adopted you.”
And Cam didn’t mind at all.
Because Lady Tremaine was sought after by every modiste in London, her custom was spread out amongst the most renowned three.
Cam’s wardrobe was completed in two weeks.
Since all the bills were sent to Graham, Cam never saw them or she would have fallen over in a dead faint.
Since Graham never said a word, just complimented her endlessly, kissed her whenever he found her alone or could pull her behind a curtain or a door, she never gave it a thought until Cilly said one evening as she fastened the exquisite silk-covered buttons down the back of Cam’s delicate gold silk dinner gown, “Mrs. Willig told me Lord Graham was a very generous husband, given all your clothes were designed and made by the finest dressmakers in London, no expense spared.”
Cam hadn’t realized, hadn’t thought, only nodded whenever Lady Tremaine had told her a particular item of clothing was going to be perfect on her—did he have sufficient funds?
“Oh dear,” Cam said. She planned to apologize to Graham, swear she would economize, but when Graham entered their bedchamber and she was ready to tell him she would never again buy a gown, he looked at her, leaned down and kissed her, told her she looked so beautiful every time he saw her he nearly swallowed his tongue.
Finally, she managed to draw back and clasp his face between her hands.
“I know I am close to losing my brain so I must get this out before I do. Thank you, Graham. You are the most generous husband. All my new clothes are lovely. But the cost, will my dowry cover it?”
He grinned down at her, like a bandit. “Please do not kiss your father as you just did me. He insisted on paying half and it wasn’t out of your dowry.”
When she thanked her father, she gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek, hugged him close.
He’d moved from numb shock at his wife’s betrayal to anger and now, thankfully, more to blessing his luck she was gone.
He was, she realized, once again looking to the future and that meant excitement.
He and Graham spent many hours not only with investors, but traveling by train to and from Manchester to meet with their local managers, both men with excellent experience that they’d managed to lure away with very fine wages indeed.
To Cam’s surprise and joy, Graham asked her to write out exact steps workers were to follow when building his designs or adapting existing machinery.
So many questions, answers, simplifying each instruction until finally both of them were pleased with the results.
As an experiment Graham gave the steps to building a steel cube of a specific size to hold a fire-boiler part to Whit’s valet.
He understood and managed, for the most part.
When thanked for his excellent understanding, Terrance said, “I have to admit, my lord, even though this was of vague interest, all in all, I still much prefer the steps in producing my special pomade for his lordship.”
And most days a letter arrived from Graham’s father, always filled with news—the spring planting of beans, corn and squash, the bean seeds grown indoors until there was no more chance of frost. He gave Graham news of their neighbors with the hope he could perhaps remember them, remember something.
But there was no memory. His father always signed his letters, Your loving father who misses you.
“A very smart man is my father. As you know from his letters, he and Ryder communicate often. They discussed how to improve this and that piece of equipment or a task that’s been performed for the past five hundred years to make his farmers’ methods more efficient and less backbreaking.
Ryder and my aunt Sophie have visited King’s Head, and my father, in turn, has visited Ryder’s home in Upper Slaughter in the Cotswolds.
” He paused, kissed her, couldn’t help himself.
“I can just see him surrounded by a dozen children. They’d all bow and curtsey to him, all proper, but stay back because, after all, even though he appears to be Ryder’s friend, they don’t know him.
Then my father would pull candies out of his pockets and spread them around with compliments to each child.
Believe me, to a child, that means a friend for all time.
As you know from his letters, they performed for him, singing, acted out plays written by the older children, and brought him into games of charades.
You and I will travel there in the summer.
I know Aunt Sophie wants to introduce you to the children.
Now—” Graham pulled out from the envelope a folded sheet of paper, spread it out.
“I wanted to show you this. Father wants to build a private train line from Dover with a terminus at King’s Head because Dover is still too distant.
This is a drawing of the topography of the land he considers most appropriate for rail lines and the best location for a terminus.
He would like my opinion.” Graham raised glowing eyes to her face.
“Imagine, Cam, we would ride in our own train from Dover to King’s Head and it would leave when we wanted it to.
” He paused a moment, frowning. “That would mean of course a separate set of tracks for the fifteen-mile trek to King’s Head—ah, the cost, I can’t begin to imagine what it would cost. And who would invest if it is only for us?
And why would they since the train would only go to King’s Head?
Hmm, I need to speak to your father, see what he thinks. ” He grinned. “It is a marvelous idea.”
There’d been so much change in her life.
Cam realized with something of a shock that she now accepted such a grandiose plan with equanimity.
Cam wanted to hug him, but she said matter-of-factly, “Of course he wants your opinion. Imagine, Graham, people could travel from London to King’s Head in a single day. It is amazing.”
Graham’s voice was thoughtful. “Father wrote he’d first considered a private line from London to King’s Head but realized soon enough the cost would be the size of a small nation’s yearly budget.
Imagine, Cam, a train car would remain at Dover and be only for our use.
Ah, the cost of the connecting track, the labor, the materials—well, no matter, when you and I are home—” His voice fell off a cliff.
He swallowed, stared at her out of wild blue eyes, and he paled.
She said matter-of-factly, “Yes, when we arrive home—?”
He shook his head at himself. “It is still all so foreign to me. For half my life Ryder’s Chadwyck House was my home. Now, well, I suppose King’s Head is indeed my home and yours as well—even though I have no memories. Not a single bloody one.”
Cam hugged him close. “Our home, Graham. Listen to me and believe me for I’m not lying to you.
All your memories will come when they’re meant to, you’ll see.
” She pulled back, cupped his face in her hands, kissed him, smoothed her fingertips over his brows, smiled.
“Imagine, our very own rail car all the way from Dover Station to our own private terminus at King’s Head.
You know our family and friends will drink champagne and eat the oysters prepared the French way. ”
He said slowly, “I’m picturing a train car with many wide windows to see the passing scenery, and leather seats, more comfortable than the usual ones even in first class.
” He paused a moment, shook his head. “Perhaps a private train car can’t happen now, but in the future?
Cam, I read about so many new ideas every day.
” He frowned. “I really don’t like oysters.
” He kissed her again, walked away, whistling, his father’s letter in his hand.
Cam looked after him, smiling, her heart full to bursting.