Mrs Sommersby’s Second Chance. Laurie Benson
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making your way through the crowds at Almack’s on a Wednesday night. But do you know what I see now?’
Lane shook his head, wishing that he could tell Lyonsdale that he didn’t want to know. Those numbers on that page spoke louder to him.
‘Now I see a town fading somewhat in its glory as the most fashionable place to be outside of London. There are not nearly as many members of the ton here as there once were. Brighton is where the Regent is. Brighton is where the growth is. Do not mistake what I am saying. Bath is still a desirable destination, but for how much longer? It may be profitable now, but can you truly tell me it will continue to be profitable ten years from now...or twenty?’
While Lyonsdale, unlike many members of English Society, always treated Lane with respect, Lane had never felt the divide in class as acutely with the man as he did at this very moment.
‘There are no guarantees in business,’ Lane replied, looking Lyonsdale directly in the eye. ‘I cannot say with one hundred per cent certainty that this venture will be profitable ten years from now or twenty. But what I can guarantee is that right now...now, those numbers are sound. And while people of your class and position may not be flocking here the way they once were, people of my class are. The merchant class and those who are discovering ways to make money through industry, we are all here. And there are many more of us than there are of you.’
He liked the man. He truly did. But how could he not see what was right in front of him?
‘I didn’t mean to appear so singular in my vision.’
‘But you did.’
Hart shifted in his chair beside Lyonsdale. He was the one who possessed all the finesse and charm. He was always the one who would petition the members of the ton to invest with them. And this was part of the reason why. The look in Hart’s eye told Lane that he might have overstepped himself with the Duke. It told him he should stop talking, lest they lose the man’s help in the future.
Lyonsdale came from one of the most prestigious families in Britain. He was a well-respected member of the House of Lords. He was a duke and not the type of man who was accustomed to being talked to in this way. Yet Lane’s pride was too great. He might have been raised in a Foundling Hospital, but that didn’t mean that he and those like him were not important. They had a place in towns like Bath and Brighton and anywhere else they saw fit to inhabit.
Yes, the look in Hart’s eyes said to just shut up—but in this matter, Lane was not about to brush aside the Duke’s ignorance.
‘With that singular vision of yours you have discounted everyone who is not like you. We have our pleasures, too. We have our place in this world and in time you may find that we are the ones who possess the majority of wealth in this country. Your title and pedigree will not put food on your table for ever.’
There was a loud groan from Hart as he lowered his head and a lock of his black hair slid across his forehead as he pinched the bridge of his nose. By keeping his head lowered and not looking at Lane, it was apparent he was contemplating where he would hit Lane first, once Lyonsdale left.
Silence descended over them, cloaking the room with an air of foreboding.
Finally, the Duke let out a loud breath. ‘You can pick your head up, Hart. I’m not about to storm out. This is just becoming entertaining.’
While Hart’s head jerked up, Lane had the urge to reach across the table and plant a facer on Lyonsdale. He was not entertaining. None of this was entertaining. Why were people all of a sudden considering him entertaining? First Mrs Sommersby and now Lyonsdale.
‘And stand down, Lane. I did not mean to imply that the world outside my circle isn’t important. But certainly you know that the ton sets the fashion for the rest of England. If those of English Society move out of Bath completely, it will only be a matter of time before others follow suit. That was what I meant. My comments were not intended to disparage anyone with a position in Society under me.’
The tension in Lane’s shoulders began to ease a bit even though Lyonsdale was right. Lane was not an unreasonable man. To succeed in business, you had to have an open mind and view a situation from another point of view. ‘It is a valid point—however, I have been to the spas. They are filled with the infirm and aged. And they keep coming. This is not just a town that attracts people for the fashionable entertainments. This is a town that people believe will cure their ills. I cannot say if they are right or wrong. I have not witnessed it myself, but what I have seen is the look in the eyes of those who I have spoken to that shine with hope. A hope to be free of the aches and diseases that have plagued them. They believe the water works. And if it doesn’t cure them completely, soaking in it offers some relief. Even if for just a little while.’
Lyonsdale looked over at Hart and eyed him up and down. ‘Why are you the one who always tries to convince me to invest in these endeavours of yours? Lane is much more logical than you are.’
Hart appeared completely affronted. ‘Not true. I appeal to your need to make money. What is more logical than that?’
‘Lane has appealed to my sense of justice.’ He looked at Lane and arched his brow. ‘He has almost made me feel that by investing in this I will be performing some sort of civic duty.’
‘Well, we all know how much you pride yourself on your civic duty, so let’s go with that, shall we?’ Hart replied. ‘We can look to see how many widows and orphans take to the waters.’ After he said it he glanced at Lane and looked down, as if he realised immediately that he had spoken out of turn considering Lane was an orphan.
‘You really should let Lane speak to me about your future investments,’ Lyonsdale said, shaking his head.
‘Then what will I do? Stand around and exude silent encouragement?’
‘You should try that. I’d be interested to see how long you could stay in a room with the two of us and not say a word. Silence is such a foreign concept for you.’
‘Not true.’
‘True,’ both Lyonsdale and Lane said in unison.
Hart glanced between the two of them and pressed his lips together. ‘You are both wrong. And to prove it, I will sit here in silence while the two of you discuss how much money Lyonsdale will give us to build the spa.’ He raised a challenging brow at him and smirked.
Before his interest waned or Hart provoked him too far, Lane needed to secure Lyonsdale to this project. ‘Do you now see the potential we have here?’ he asked, taking the Duke’s attention away from Hart.
Lyonsdale drew the sheet of paper with the budget closer to him and his gaze slowly moved from side to side as he scanned the page. When he sat back, it was Lane whom he focused on. ‘I will fund some of this, but I am not willing to give you all the money you need. And it will be on loan to you for five years.’
When he told them the amount of what he was willing to give and the interest he would charge them, Lane’s heart sank. It was not an unusual arrangement that Lyonsdale had offered. Most of the time Lyonsdale preferred to be conservative in his investments. It was just that this time—with this opportunity—Lane had hoped Lyonsdale would see the full potential and take the risk.
‘Come now,’ Hart said, breaking his self-imposed silence. ‘If you give us the full amount we think we will need, then you can become a full partner and reap all the rewards when this spa becomes the sensation of all of Bath and word of it hits London and this town becomes fashionable again.’
‘I thought you were going to sit there and offer your silent support?’ Lyonsdale said, shifting his weight on his chair away from Hart.
‘You knew that was never going to happen, so there is no need to pretend you expected it to. It is early in the morning. You haven’t had your breakfast yet. Why don’t you go home, have something to eat and think about it some more?’
‘No amount of food is going to make me change my mind. While I do believe, for now, it is a sound investment, I