Sea Mistress (7 page)

The reason she was here now, making for the offices of Marchant and James shipping line, was because of Jubilee's fussiness that his payments for goods delivered be made on time.

He had lately sold stocks of leather to Paul Marchant, undertaking to deliver the skins to the saddler and thereafter to pick up the finished goods and have his waggons deliver the horse-collars directly to the docks.

Jubilee's orders were that Matthew should accompany Ellie on the journey to the shipping office but Matthew had been out with one of the wagons collecting more timber. In any case, Ellie didn't want to give the man any encouragement at all, though she could hardly tell Jubilee that. So she had come alone and now she was feeling a little foolish and at a loss.

She looked up at the elegant buildings, at the ornately decorated porticos and felt intimidated. She wasn't used to doing business, she usually left all that to Jubilee. Still, it was about time she took some responsibilities from the shoulders of her husband.

The tannery at Glyn Hir, though not a large one, was flourishing and had a reputation surpassed by none in Swansea or its environs. He was probably speaking the truth when Jubilee claimed that the leather from Glyn Hir was among the finest in the entire Principality.

The offices of Marchant and James were smaller than she had imagined, less imposing. But the woodwork was newly painted and the sign above the door was bold, striking a chord of confidence in Ellie that gave her some measure of relief. At least she would not be dealing with charlatans.

She knocked on the door and a masculine voice called for her to step inside. If she had expected to see Bridie or her husband Paul Marchant she was disappointed. An elderly man with huge side whiskers sat behind a desk, looking at her in obvious surprise. She saw him rise to his feet in an excess of politeness and gesture to the rather capacious wooden chair that stood facing him.

‘I'm sorry, young lady,' his eyes, set deep in plump creases, sparkled. ‘We don't see very many of the fairer sex in this office. I'm Mr Elias, by the way.'

Ellie felt foolish. ‘My husband hasn't been well,' she said, feeling the need to make excuses for her presence there. ‘It was necessary for me to come to see you. It's rather embarrassing, it's about an outstanding bill, as a matter of fact.'

‘I see, sorry to hear it indeed. Well can you give me some details Mrs . . . ?'

‘Mrs Hopkins,' Ellie supplied, ‘I'm sorry to have to come to the offices but the bill has been outstanding for some time and now, it seems, Mr Marchant needs more stocks of leather. I'm sure it's all just a mistake, an oversight on Mr Marchant's part.'

‘How much leather?' Mr Elias turned some papers over on his desk. ‘I need to know a little more about this before I can look in to it. When was the load delivered and what was its destination? Do you have a bill with you stating the amount owed?'

Ellie felt foolish, she could see now that she had come to town ill prepared, she should have been business-like, had all the necessary information at her fingertips.

‘I haven't brought anything with me, I haven't gone into it very thoroughly, I'm afraid, I can see that now.'

‘Well, Mr Marchant would not want the leather for delivery to France, that's for sure.' Mr Elias leaned back in his chair, ‘They send us the most lovely calfskin, want to export more, not import any leather, that's the French for you.'

Ellie was feeling more foolish by the minute. ‘I think I should go, it was silly of me to have come here so unprepared.'

The outer door opened and the rush of salt breeze carried with it the tang of the sea. Paul Marchant was suddenly in the office filling it with his presence. ‘Elias, we'll be sailing soon and . . .' his eyebrows lifted when he saw Ellie sitting there, looking up at him in some agitation.

He was a handsome man, broad of shoulder and with the healthy complexion earned by years of weathering in the sun and sea air. ‘Good morning.' He stood beside Ellie's chair, looking down at her, his eyes full of interest. ‘I wasn't expecting to see anything so lovely when I walked into my office this morning.'

Ellie felt her colour rising, she was used to Matthew's rather blunt approaches, but coming from a gentleman of Paul Marchant's standing, such charm disconcerted her.

‘I'm afraid I may have wasted Mr Elias's time,' she said. She moved her bag on her lap, uncertain whether to leave and after a moment's hesitation, she rose to her feet.

‘The young lady, Mrs Hopkins,' Mr Elias paused, was there an emphasis on her married name, Ellie wondered? ‘Mrs Hopkins was enquiring about an unpaid bill. Her husband owns a tannery, you see, sir.'

‘Yes, I do see,' Paul thrust his hands into his pockets and studied her, he had a subtle air about him which managed to convey the impression that Ellie was the one woman in the world he wanted to talk to. At this moment, she certainly seemed to be the sole object of his interest. His charm was palpable and what's more he was aware of it. He was the same type as Matthew Hewson except he was garbed in gentleman's clothes.

‘How much leather are we talking about and in what quantity?' Paul smiled disarmingly. ‘When was the delivery date?'

‘I'm afraid I came here quite unprepared.' Ellie's embarrassment increased, ‘I'm sorry, I don't know answers to any of your questions.'

‘Don't look so worried, I'm sure we can sort this out.' Paul leaned slightly closer and Ellie resisted the temptation to step away from him.

‘Our tannery is called Glyn Hir, we . . .'

‘Ah, yes, of course, very good stuff comes out of your place. Old Jubilee Hopkins is well known around Swansea, his name is synonymous with quality. Think no more about it, the matter will be dealt with as soon as I return from my trip to Ireland.'

‘I'd better go,' Ellie moved towards the door, ‘I'll speak to Jubilee, he hasn't been well or he'd have called to see you himself. He knows much more about the business side of things than I do,' she added apologetically.

‘I insist I accompany you past the entrance of the docks,' Paul's voice indicated it was a casual gesture. Somehow, Ellie knew that the move was quite calculated.

‘Can't have you being carried off by any of the foreign sailors who come ashore here, can we?' Paul was exerting his charm, smiling down at her, his strangely violet eyes full of meaning.

‘It's all right, really.' Ellie drew her gloves more tightly over her fingers, she was ill at ease with this man, she was aware that he posed a threat without really knowing why.

Mr Elias rose from his chair, ‘Good day to you, Mrs Hopkins.' His practical attitude broke the tension, ‘I trust you'll soon sort matters out to your satisfaction.'

There was nothing for it but to allow Paul Marchant to accompany her on her departure from his office. But as Ellie walked along the cobbled roadway with Paul Marchant at her side she was feeling far from comfortable with the situation. She could think of nothing to say but that didn't seem to matter, Paul Marchant was in complete control of the moment.

‘I shall make it my business to come to Glyn Hir and see Jubilee Hopkins for myself. I shall also make it my business to ensure the bills are paid on time in future.' His smile inferred that the oversight was not his own. Ellie found him far too confident of his own charm and she was beginning to be irritated by him.

‘I need your leather,' Paul said more seriously, ‘it's a very important part of my trade. As is the extra service done by Mr Hopkins. It saves me so much time to have the skins delivered to the saddler's and made up into the required loads of tack.'

‘But surely there are larger tanneries than ours?' Ellie said, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. Why was Paul Marchant bothering to flatter her? Glyn Hir's contribution to his business enterprise must be very small indeed.

He seemed to read her mind. ‘Your price is competitive and your goods are of an excellent quality, that's why I need to buy your leather.'

Perhaps he was right but Ellie doubted it. She wished she had never come, it was embarrassing walking along with this man who was a stranger to her and who was so sure of his own ability to charm her. There must be something in the transaction for him, he was the type who never did anything without good reason. Still, he was a customer and she must not be downright rude to him.

As they passed the entrance to the docks, where, thankfully, Ellie could take her leave of Paul Marchant, a carriage drew to a sudden halt and a woman alighted. Her face was flushed, her eyes narrowed.

‘Paul!' Her voice was harsh, her features so contorted with anger that for a moment Ellie didn't realize she was face to face with Bridie Marchant. ‘And what may I ask are you doing walking openly along the docks with some cheap whore? You thought you'd fooled me didn't you?' She was gasping with anger. ‘I knew you were up to something, I felt in my bones that there was another woman in the offing somewhere.'

Ellie felt herself blanch, how dare Bridie Marchant assume she was a loose woman?

‘Excuse me, you're quite mistaken,' she forced herself to speak. ‘I came here on business, I . . .'

‘You are alone, aren't you, here on the dockside with a sailor? And what sort of business are you conducting, I wonder?'

‘I came to see about a bill for leather, an unpaid bill for money owed by your firm.' Ellie was growing angry, she had asked for none of this.

‘A likely story, you're acting more like a prostitute than a lady out and about on business. Oh you may talk in a fancy voice but that doesn't make you a lady.'

‘I'm a respectable married woman.' Ellie was outraged by Bridie Marchant's attitude, ‘I don't deserve this . . . abuse.'

Bridie rounded on her. ‘I know who you are, you're the wife of the tannery owner aren't you? Shows what sort you are, married to improve yourself did you? Well you just keep your hands off my husband if you know what's good for you. Go back to your disgusting old man.'

Incensed beyond reason, Ellie found herself lashing out, the flat of her open hand catching Bridie full across the face. Immediately, Ellie was appalled by her own reaction, by responding in such a way to the woman's goading she had lowered herself to Bridie Marchant's level.

‘How dare you touch me,' Bridie put her hand to her cheek, ‘you bitch!'

‘Bridie,' Paul stepped forward, his face set, ‘you are making an exhibition of yourself. Be calm, let's all get a grip on our tempers. I assure you Mrs Hopkins came to see me on a business matter.'

‘On what business matter? The business of how much she was going to charge you for her services, I suppose. You disappoint me Paul, I didn't think you were the sort to pay for your pleasures.'

‘Be reasonable, Bridie,' Paul urged again. ‘Let me just explain things to you.'

Suddenly Bridie shot a question at Ellie, her voice full of venom. ‘Very well, explain, then, what sort of load did you have in mind, how many tons of leather are involved and where is this leather being taken?'

‘I don't really know . . .' Ellie realized how feeble her story must seem.

‘So you want me to believe that your husband sent you alone to see my husband about a so-called load that you know very little about, is that it?' Bridie's voice was bordering on the hysterical.

‘I know it sounds strange but it's the truth,' Ellie said, feeling her hands begin to tremble.

Bridie came close to her face, there was sheer hate in her eyes. ‘Leave my husband alone, you might think it great fun to be his doxy, profitable too, but you are going to find out it doesn't do to cross Bridie Marchant, you'll pay dearly for what you've done this day.'

With a shake of her head, Ellie moved a step backwards. ‘There's nothing to say, you're obviously not prepared to listen to reason so I might as well go.'

‘Aye, go, run home but you won't be safe from me, not anywhere, be warned.'

Paul Marchant caught his wife's arm trying his best to restrain her. He looked apologetically towards Ellie and shook his head.

She hurried across the roadway and headed into the centre of town, finding that she was trembling from head to toe. How appalling to be involved in such a scene. Bridie Marchant had provoked her but losing her temper and lashing out was unforgivable. Ellie's hand stung from the strength of the blow, she must have really hurt Bridie Marchant and she was ashamed.

Bridie was to be pitied, she must really be frightened of losing her husband and she must have good reason. Well Ellie was well out of it, she wouldn't ever go near the docks alone again, it had been a foolish move on her part. Had she taken Matthew as her husband suggested, all this wouldn't have happened. Now she had roused Bridie Marchant's bitterest anger, and in that instant, Ellie felt a deep sense of unease.

‘I must go Bridie, be reasonable, I want to catch the tide.' Paul's voice was soft, he was attempting to conciliate her but Bridie was beside herself with anger, she was past being reasonable.

‘If you don't come home with me now and sort this all out then it's over between us.' Her voice was raised and people were turning to look at them.

‘But, Bridie, I—'

‘No buts, you come home right now.'

‘All right, if it means that much to you, I'll come home. It was just a short trip anyway, I seem to be doing quite a few of those lately. You go home and I'll follow as soon as I can.'

Bridie hesitated and Paul seeing his advantage spoke again. ‘What has given you this foolish idea that I am interested in another woman, Bridie?'