Chapter Fifteen #2
“It is not quite that simple,” Jasper protested, surprising Libba enough that she paused, spoon halfway to her lips, to turn to see what he would say. “Limestone also produces quicklime and lime wash. The byproducts include quartz and chalk. It’s a robust operation, outside of just stone.”
“Is that so?” Libba murmured, blinking rapidly.
“Yes, of course, dear. Any good industrialist knows the value of a multi-pronged product,” Mrs. Templeton-Rath said, nodding. “Even if it is rather dusty. What do you know of our operations, young man?”
“Cinnamon, gemstones, and tea,” he said, blinking at her. “And most recently, the influx of demand for quality veined graphite, which I expect will continue to grow.”
Mrs. Templeton-Rath’s eyes narrowed a little as she took a dainty bite of her soup and took her time chewing and swallowing. “Is that so? What has led to this expectation, Mr. Townsend?”
“Oh,” he replied, looking warily down at the swirling colors in his bowl.
“Crucibles are already preferred in your material, for items spanning the whole of commerce. Pencils are gaining popularity with the common folk, given they are far more convenient than ink pots for mobility, but it is the experimentalists who are always trying to get to shipments first. There is apparently great potential for the conductivity of heat and electricity through the purer forms of graphite, and with research comes innovation and with innovation comes fascination and demand. One must be prepared for it.”
“My wife is a great champion of the sciences,” Mr. Templeton-Rath said with a chuckle. “Aren’t you, Aggie? And you’re right, we’ve had direct orders from many men of science.”
“Imagine how many more you will have,” Jasper said, dabbing his lips with a napkin, “when they have created something miraculous with it.”
Libba withdrew her slippered toes from under his heel while he was distracted and dipped her spoon back into the soup. Her eyes met Lem’s across the table, where his brows raised just a smidgen in acknowledgement.
Jasper’s sudden competence had surprised them both.
And, as much as she wished to continue tormenting him, now that he’d demonstrated viability to these people, she knew she could not sabotage it.
She let him continue to discuss graphite trade through the main course, another glass of wine, and a syrupy dessert with crisp edges, only entering the conversation when addressed directly.
When the meal adjourned, they were instructed to stay for port and a parlor game.
Jasper’s quick acceptance meant she had no choice but to accept as well. Something had overtaken him after that fiery swallow of soup and she wasn’t certain that she liked it.
Christ. This might actually work.
They were folding him into their operation already.
“We wouldn’t ask you to leave your post just yet, of course,” Mrs. Templeton-Rath said as they all made to stand and brush themselves off around the table. “But you will be compensated for any assistance you’re willing to give us. We’ll need a few day laborers first and foremost.”
“I can get you those,” he said, so confidently with just a little hint of a smirk that Libba wanted to slap him until he was a panicky, bumbling mess again. “How many?”
“A dozen?” suggested Mr. Templeton-Rath, winning a nod from his brother. “A dozen.”
“I can get you a roster by tomorrow,” Jasper assured them.
“Excellent,” said their hostess. “This way, if you please.”
Libba straightened her shoulders, assuming her most regal posture, and moved to follow them, only to be stopped by Jasper’s hand on her arm, a quiet squeeze just to the spot below her elbow.
She turned to look at him askance as Lem filed past them, apparently unconcerned with whatever they were up to now, and the servants began to swarm toward the table to clear up the remains of dinner.
He paused only a moment, then nodded forward toward the hall.
Ahead of them, Mrs. Templeton-Rath was talking about the house.
“It belongs to a family friend, you see,” she was saying, assuming they were all in close quarter behind her.
“But is often closed for most of the year. They only summer here to attend the Prince Regent, but it has kept the old place lived in!”
“What,” Jasper’s voice hissed, warm and breathy against the back of her neck, “are you doing?!”
She shivered, turning her head slightly and slowing her gait so that the others would pull farther ahead of them.
“Exactly what you asked me to do,” she replied, turning and gazing up into his face, which was blazing down at her, those eyes narrowed into tilted, golden slits. “And look. It’s working.”
In this light, she could hardly tell he was bruised anymore. Ah, but she could smell him again. She took a step closer, fascinated with how the scents of dinner and dessert danced around the almond cherry notes in the warmth of his skin.
“Libba, you … You can’t just …” He cut himself off, running the tip of his tongue over his teeth and shaking his head, his hair glinting in the low light. “You can’t just walk around like that!”
“I believe that I can,” she replied, looking down at herself with a little smile. “Don’t you like it?”
Something flashed over his face. Something new and a little dark. His eyes glinted like firelit treasure and followed her own gaze, caressing down the effect of her body in the costume, lingering over the flash of bare skin exposed over her hip.
He took a shallow, little breath, blinking all those pale lashes, and opened his mouth, presumably to tell her exactly what he thought of her outfit. His eyes flicked back up to meet hers, the color opaque in this light, like rich, heavy ingots.
“Mr. Townsend?” called Mrs. Templeton-Rath’s voice down the hall. “Princess? Did we lose you?”
“We are just negotiating my proposal!” Libba called cheerily without turning around. “My apologies. We are coming.”
She gave him a little smile before turning around and beckoning him to follow over her shoulder.
“We can always talk later, my hero,” she added, low and purring, and only for his benefit.
And she hoped it unsettled him, even if only a little.