A Woman of Substance. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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not a very admirable motto, Gerald, or a very farsighted policy either,’ Adam snapped. ‘But we shall discuss the mill later. In the meantime, I would like to point out that you’ve a lot to learn about human nature and the workers, my boy. They’ve been treated abominably in the past. More reform has to come, and I hope it does so without too much bloodshed.’
‘You’d better not let your friends in the wool trade hear you talking like that, or they’ll castigate you as a traitor to your class, sir,’ Gerald responded.
‘Don’t be impertinent!’ his father exclaimed, his eyes flashing with chilly silvery lights. Adam, who rarely lost his temper, was in danger of doing so now. But he took control of himself and poured another cup of tea. Because of his fatigue and mental weariness his patience was worn threadbare, and his nerves were far too close to the surface for his own comfort.
Gerald grinned and winked at Edwin, who was gazing at him in astonishment after this exceptional display of insolence. He was horrified at Gerald’s effrontery, and he looked from his father to Gerald, and then dropped his eyes.
Infuriated, but in command of himself, Adam opened the newspaper and was about to disappear behind it, when Edwin, conscious of his father’s disquiet and in an effort to distract him, said, ‘Did you know Kitchener when you were in the army, Father?’
‘No, I didn’t, Edwin. Why do you ask?’ Adam queried with impatience. He put the paper down, staring at Edwin curiously.
‘I read a story yesterday about him clashing with Lord Curzon in India. Did you see the story in The Times, Father? I wondered exactly why they are always at loggerheads? Do you know, sir?’
‘Yes, I did see the story, Edwin, and the chief reason those two are always arguing is because when Kitchener went to India as Commander in Chief of the British army he took it upon himself to redistribute the troops. He rapidly gained greater administrative control of the army and the Viceroy was opposed to that, and still opposes it, I might add. Curzon’s met his match there, I’m afraid. Kitchener’s not a man to be thwarted. He’ll have his way, come hell or high water.’
‘You don’t like Kitchener, do you, Father?’ Edwin suggested.
‘I wouldn’t say that, my boy. But why do you assume such a thing?’
‘You once told me, when I was little, that it was Kitchener’s fault that Gordon was killed at Khartoum.’
Adam gave Edwin a penetrating look. ‘You have a prodigious memory. But I didn’t quite say that. If I recall correctly, I said that Kitchener’s relief expedition arrived too late to save General Gordon. Khartoum had already been stormed by the Mahdists, who had brutally murdered Gordon. It wasn’t Kitchener’s fault exactly. In reality, it was Gladstone’s, because he delayed in sending relief to Gordon for too long. It caused quite a furore at the time. In fact, public indignation at Gordon’s abandonment actually contributed to the downfall of Gladstone’s government. But no, I don’t blame Kitchener for Gordon’s death, to answer your question. And Kitchener’s a good soldier, my boy, and devoted to duty.’
‘I see,’ Edwin said thoughtfully, vastly relieved that his father was calmer.
‘Are you interested in the army, or is it going to be politics for you, Edwin? I can see you are interested in both,’ Adam said. Not one to remain irritated for long, his anger with Gerald was beginning to lessen.
‘Oh no, Father. I think I would like to be a barrister.’ Edwin announced this with enthusiasm. But then his face fell as he noticed the fixed frown on Adam’s face. ‘Do you not approve, Father?’
Adam smiled quickly, sensing his son’s sudden disappointment. ‘Of course I approve. Anything you want, old chap. I was rather taken aback, that’s all. It didn’t occur to me that you would be interested in the law. However, I have always known you were not really cut out for the business. And anyway, Gerald seems to be at home at the mill.’ He threw a swift look at his elder son and his voice hardened as he went on, ‘Correct, Gerald?’
Gerald nodded and said, ‘Absolutely! I know Wilson will give you a good report on me.’ He paused and glanced at his brother slyly. ‘Anyway, Edwin would not like working in the mill and he’s far too delicate in health for the harsh conditions. I thought at one time he might be interested in the newspaper, but since he’s not, I heartily endorse his ambition to study law. And why not? It’s quite a good idea to have a legal brain in the family.’
This was uttered in the most dulcet of tones, the words artfully couched to hide Gerald’s cunning. He was inordinately jealous of his younger brother and the last thing he wanted was Edwin interfering in the business. By rights it was his, as the eldest son and heir, and he aimed to keep it for himself and himself alone.
Adam was not deceived. Gerald’s guile was all too apparent to him, and under the circumstances it was probably fortuitous that Edwin did not nurture any ambitions to enter the family business. Adam suspected Gerald could be a ruthless adversary when necessary. ‘Well, that seems to be settled then, Edwin,’ he said slowly, drumming his fingers lightly on the table. ‘It appears you have Gerald’s good wishes, too.’
Edwin beamed, first at Gerald, and then at his father. ‘I’m so glad you approve and that I have your consent, Father,’ he cried jubilantly. ‘I thought you might object, sir.’
‘Of course I don’t.’ Adam picked up the Yorkshire Morning Gazette and turned to the Bradford Wool Market. He perused the section quickly and said to Gerald, ‘Good. Wool prices are relatively steady and exports well up. We’re still cornering the world market. England’s cloth exports are averaging something like twenty-seven million running yards a year, the same as last year and the year before. Not bad at all.’
Gerald’s avaricious eyes glittered darkly in his flaccid face. ‘Wilson told me yesterday that we would have an excellent year ourselves. Business is booming. By the way, are you going to see that wool man from Australia this morning? Bruce McGill. You do know he’s coming to the mill.’
‘Damnation! I’d forgotten,’ Adam exclaimed with exasperation. ‘I can’t see him, I’m afraid. Wilson will have to deal with him.’
‘Yes, Father. Well, I’d better be going to the mill.’ Gerald rose and clattered out noisily.
Adam frowned at his retreating figure and then turned to Edwin. ‘I’ll have a word with my solicitor about you, my boy, when I see him next week. Perhaps he will have some ideas about your further education after public school. We’ll have to decide which university you will go to, Edwin.’
‘Yes, Father, and thank you so much. I do appreciate your interest in me, I really do, sir.’ He loved and respected his father.
At this moment Emma knocked and came into the room, carrying a large tray. She stared at Adam coldly and then glanced away quickly, fixing her eyes on the silver teapot. ‘Murgatroyd sent me up ter start clearing away, if yer’ve finished, Squire,’ she said in a hard voice, clutching the tray tightly and holding herself very still.
‘Yes, we have finished, thank you, Emma. You can take everything away, but leave the teapot. I may want another cup before I leave.’ Adam’s eyes were gentle and he smiled at her kindly.
Emma, who had partially turned to listen to him, had averted her head again and she did not see the kindness and compassion that illuminated his sensitive face. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said stonily, and went to the sideboard. She propped the tray against it and returned to the table to collect the dirty dishes.
Adam sighed and continued his conversation with Edwin.
Emma moved around the circular table quietly, gathering the used silver and the plates with as little fuss and noise as possible. This was protection in itself, for she believed the less people noticed your existence, the easier it was to get along without trouble. Unfortunately, and to her constant dismay, Master Gerald always noticed her and took great pleasure in picking on her, just as he had in the hall a few moments ago. He had jostled