Chapter 42
Forty-Two
As he had promised his cousin, Alec had risen especially early that morning so he could bid him farewell. He made sure to avoid Millicent. One part of him believed it was a cowardly way out, but he was still so angry that he did not trust himself.
Alec missed Aurora at the breakfast table, but any further musing was interrupted by the butler, who conveyed Mr. Hardcastle’s invitation to join him in a drive mid-morning to the manufactory.
After seeing his daughter settled for the day, he joined his future father-in-law in the carriage as they commenced the short ride.
After ensuring that his host was well seated, with the carriage rug firmly tucked around him, he leaned back in his seat, attempting to appear confident and comfortable in their mission.
He hoped he was delivering a passable performance.
The man opposite him cleared his throat, drawing Alec’s eyes to his face as he began to speak.
“Normally, Your Grace, that is, in the past, if the weather was fine, I would frequently walk directly to the manufactory from the house. As I am sure is completely obvious to you, such a feat is now beyond me.”
Alec only nodded. He was finding he liked Mr. Hardcastle—direct and to the point.
Like his daughter. No fawning or nonsense.
It was also clear the man was desperately ill and failing fast. Alec felt an unfamiliar wrench as he looked at him, realizing what this must be doing to Aurora.
He also recognized that today was an outing the older man believed to be necessary, which he respected.
The two were riding in a small and unostentatious carriage.
It was well built with comfortable seating inside, but not ornate.
Plain, simple, and functional. A man after his own heart, it appeared.
Mr. Hardcastle had insisted Alec take the forward-facing seat when they entered so he could see where they were going.
Alec realized he was studying the man to look for clues about Aurora, to better understand the woman he was planning to marry.
Mr. Hardcastle gave him a wry smile. With a touch of chagrin, Alec realized he had been found out.
The older man broke the silence. “You make a study of me, sir. Very good. You seek to know what kind of man I am and, thus, what kind of woman my daughter is. I cannot claim full credit for her—she did not spring fully formed from my head. Her mother definitely had a hand in the process.”
Then Aurora’s father turned serious. “I also wish to tell you about myself. As a man most decidedly not of your class, I believe it is especially important you know where I came from and who I have become.
“I was a clever boy who caught the eye of the local squire—Sir Ethelbert Wayland, may he rest in peace.
He sent me to Edinburgh for medical training.
Since your home is in Scotland, perhaps you will appreciate the location.
At the time, that was an eccentric thing to do, as London was considered the proper place for such an education.
It was perfect for me. On my return, I was apprenticed to our local physician, who taught me his trade and who, in time, passed on his practice.
“Through this work, I met my wife. She was the visiting cousin of one of my patients. Unexpected and happy results. Miss Rose Telford as she was then. We had five children. Sadly, only one of them survived childhood, and she is a child of our hearts. We had a small, comfortable life—our house was not as grand as the one we currently inhabit. And then, one day, everything changed.”
Mr. Hardcastle paused and looked away, clearly wrestling with the memory he was about to share.
He stared blindly out the window, his blank gaze not registering the lovely avenue of trees covering the long walk connecting his home with the public road.
Alec gave the man his moment and simply sat quietly, waiting for him to continue.
Which Mr. Hardcastle did, after clearing his throat a couple of times and returning his attention to his passenger.
“The youngest Wayland—Alfred,” he said, “came to me with a proposition: to assist with providing capital in the creation of a manufactory.
Alfred had already drawn up plans for the machinery that would need to be built to weave the cloth here in our little valley.
All he needed was a partner. It was a risk—a decided risk—but it was a well-thought-out plan, and my spirit of adventure sprang up to meet it.
“As lads, we had done everything together. In fact, that is how I first came to his father’s attention.
I would have trusted Alfred with my life.
Still, it was a gamble, and I am not a gambling man.
Nevertheless, I did. I was able to convince my Rose that this was what we needed to do.
The enterprise grew and flourished, and, upon Alfred Wayland’s early demise from consumption, I learned the business had been left wholly to me.
His father had passed away, and his older brother was only interested in managing their estate.
He had no desire to run a commercial entity such as our textile factory.
“It had become a substantial business at this point and required full-time attention. So, I put away my doctoring—I assumed it might be only for a brief time—and took up the reins. And those months became years. And here we are.”
Mr. Hardcastle stopped again and looked directly at Alec, who realized Aurora’s father was setting up a pair of scales, and a weighing was about to commence—with Alec himself as the object being weighed.
He supposed he could have been offended; he was a duke, after all.
But with this straightforward, plain-spoken man, there was no way he could stand on his title or his breeding as some form of inherent superiority.
Alec realized he was hoping he would be found acceptable.
“What you have heard is true,” Mr. Hardcastle stated bluntly.
“Workers at my manufactory are provided with a share in the profits.
I employ no child labor. We follow regular working hours—a ten-hour day, with a break for a meal midday.
If a special project is called, then workers may volunteer for additional pay to take it on.
“I am called rash and eccentric, and I do not think my ideas are catching on. Nevertheless, these are the people I grew up among.” He gave a small chuckle.
“I am sure you can hear that in my voice and accent. They are my community; I care about their well-being. I could not make money knowing I was depriving someone of their health and even their life. My physician’s oath to do no harm, well, it has refused to leave me. ”
Mr. Hardcastle stopped talking, and Alec felt the weight of the moment grow heavier. It was time for business, that is, Alec’s business of marriage, which he now realized was inextricably tied to Mr. Hardcastle’s own clearly cherished enterprise.
“My first requirement,” Mr. Hardcastle resumed, “and this will be written into any legal papers, is that whoever is to assume responsibility for the functioning of this manufactory will adhere to these principles. It will be extremely tempting to let them go when there are tight deadlines, and doing so would bring the owner more money. But it would be a betrayal of everything that has been built up here.” He stopped again, but this time, it was clear he was waiting for Alec’s response.
After an additional moment gathering his thoughts, Alec spoke.
“I understand, sir. While it is, I am sure, perfectly clear to you I know nothing about business of this sort, fair dealing with one’s community is close to my heart.
My father—” and here Alec found himself unable to continue, but the encouragement in Mr. Hardcastle’s eyes allowed him to swallow and go on.
“My father was not a good man. I knew this to be so even as I grew up. And I vowed, when I became a man and inherited the estate, I should not follow his example in how I treated those who lived and worked there. It has been a struggle to repair the decades of damage he caused. As I am also sure you know, to date I have not been very successful in making any serious headway in addressing the losses and harm he inflicted by his neglect, bad management, and appalling behavior. These people are also part of who I am. I owe them a great deal.”
Alec smiled. “I am not sure how well you know Scotland, sir. The system that has been in place for centuries leaves most people dependent on their laird for survival. A poor laird, a neglectful laird can mean actual starvation, misery, and death. It is not the romance of the minstrels, though I love my beautiful country.” He paused to take a deep breath.
“I did not choose my position in society; I was born into it.
It was not due to anything I did. I had, I have no special deserving.
So, I try to fulfill my role as best as I can.
“Mr. Hardcastle, you have been straightforward with me, and I am honored to return the favor. I am not a businessman, and I have no wish to drive your business into the ground. I would take my responsibility as your son-in-law seriously, you see. So, I must be blunt with you about that.”
Mr. Hardcastle reached across the small space separating them inside the carriage and patted Alec’s leg.
“Bless you, my lad. That is not necessarily an insurmountable obstacle. I may have a few ideas in that direction. But not today. Today I want to give you a tour of what I, and, yes, my workers, have built.”
With superb timing, the coachman pulled up to a large square building, with a wide courtyard in front of it for delivery vehicles or, in this instance, the carriage, to turn around.
When they stopped, Alec could hear the sound of looms clack-clacking inside and saw people loading bales of cloth onto wagons in an organized system.
A middle-aged man stepped out of the main door and approached the carriage.
“Ah, Calum! Good man! I have the Duke of Selkirk to meet you. Aurora’s husband-to-be.”
Without waiting for assistance, Mr. Hardcastle opened the door and lowered himself slowly and carefully to the ground. He then stepped forward to shake his employee’s hand. Alec followed right behind.
“Your Grace,” said Calum, giving a short bow, which Alec returned. “I am Calum Ambleside. I serve as Mr. Hardcastle’s factotum at the manufactory. Please, come in.”
And so, Alec entered a factory for the first time.
He expected it to be dark and dreary, but the ceilings were high with plenty of windows and natural light.
People passed to and fro in front of and around the looms, occasionally feeding thread and all manner of things which he did not understand.
There were no children present. A few older youths swept the floors to try and keep some of the fluff under control.
The noise prevented any sort of discussion of what was going on, so Mr. Ambleside simply took the Duke on a quick circuit before leading him into the office, where Mr. Hardcastle had already availed himself of a seat and was thumbing through a ledger.
“Stephen has already been by and reviewed the accounts, Mr. Hardcastle,” jumped in Mr. Ambleside. He seemed to catch himself and looked abashed and concluded more quietly. “Most pleased with the story that they told.”
“Stephen?” inquired Alec.
“My former apprentice,” stated Mr. Ambleside. “Away at school but is home for a while and could not resist coming by to ensure everything was operating according to plan.”
Mr. Hardcastle’s frown was there and gone so quickly, Alec doubted he had seen it. The older gentleman gave a wry smile and shook his head, but his eyes looked wary. “Sounds like Stephen,” was all he said. “I know you have missed the assistance from that quarter.”
Alec had noticed a young man exiting the office as they had entered the building. “Oh, I think I saw him leave the office as we were coming in. I wish he had stayed to introduce himself.”
“Another time, perhaps another time,” said Mr. Ambleside. “I don’t expect we shall see Stephen a great deal more on this visit. Yes, I rather think Stephen is needed at home.”
“I should say so,” interjected Mr. Hardcastle. Clearly changing the subject, he turned to Alec. “Well, sir? What do you think of your first glimpse of a proper factory?”
“I confess I do not understand all I have seen,” replied Alec.
“But I do know this. As my years in His Majesty’s Army showed me, organization and efficiency are paramount for any type of success.
And this is clearly a well-ordered enterprise.
Everyone looks healthy and as if they know what they are about.
It is clean. The light through the windows is an excellent part of the structural planning.
I am impressed, Mr. Hardcastle, though not necessarily more enlightened. As per our earlier conversation.”
“Well, sir,” returned Mr. Hardcastle, “I am happy to repeat this is not an insurmountable obstacle. There may be a solution at our fingertips. Come, we must get back to the house. I am sure I have some hosting duties to attend to, with the rest of the party. And on our ride back, you must tell me some more about your daughter. I know Aurora is very fond of her.”