Authors: Judith Miller
When they entered the area where the warehouse women were dusting dirt from the ware, Rose looked in on women and children cleaning the ware while breathing the clay dust that filled the air. The whisking of brushes on bisqueware accompanied the labored breathing, coughing, and wheezing at each workbench.
“I thought the work areas at our pottery were terrible, but I believe your pottery is far worse, Joshua. Do you hire any janitors to clean?”
He leaned against the doorjamb, careful to keep his nose turned toward the fresh air. “My father wants me to turn this into a profitable business. I’ve cut expenses wherever I can. I’ve told the workers in each shop to clean up after themselves before they leave for the day. Seems they’d rather work in the dust and dirt than stay and clean the place.” He shrugged. “It’s their choice.”
Rose didn’t concur, but she remained silent. She wanted to see the remainder of the pottery. If she criticized too much, Joshua might curtail their tour. “I’m told that most of the potteries have difficulty keeping all but the skilled workers for long periods of time. Is that true for you, as well?”
“I don’t keep up with the comings and goings of those who work for the skilled workers. They hire their own unskilled workers and pay their wages, so I never see their names on my payroll. I do employ the rest of the unskilled workers, and they quit more often than I’d like. They don’t give a reason for why they’re leaving, but I think they find the work more tedious than they expected.”
Rose agreed that stamping the company trademark onto the bottom of the ware for ten hours a day would be tedious, but she suspected many of the unskilled workers became sick from breathing the clay dust or dipping the ware into glaze that contained lead. After touring Bancock Pottery, she’d spoken to Dr. Balch, their physician in Bartlett, and discovered there were already existing medical studies detailing the dangers of lead.
As they entered the decorating shop, Rose scanned and silently counted the number of workers. Unlike Bancock Pottery, the worktables in the Harkness Pottery employed more than twenty decorators, who were hand-painting intricate designs onto plates and serving pieces while several other employees gilded large urns and vases. She approached one of the worktables for a closer examination. Though she’d been impressed to see so many decorators, none of them possessed Mr. Wheeler’s creativity and skill.
“You have a lot of decorators. I believe there’s a good profit to be made selling high-quality items that are hand-painted by skilled artists.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Do you agree?”
He grasped her elbow and led her from the area. “I never express such ideas in front of the workers. If they believe I have a great need for their skills, they’ll want more money, and the decorators are already the highest-paid workers in the pottery.”
“That’s what Mr. Bancock said. I was disappointed to learn he’d dismissed all of his decorators but one. I’m hopeful we may be able to hire some of them back. And I plan to work on ideas in the decorating shop, as well. I believe we can create a market for unique patterns.”
“I’m not sure I agree with your concept. I dismissed most of my artists and replaced them with decorators willing to take lower wages. These decorators aren’t quite as talented, but they get the work out faster. I’ve decided producing in greater quantity is the answer to making money.”
Rose arched her brows. “So you believe quantity is more important than quality?”
Joshua tipped his head to one side. “I believe I’ll make more money by paying lower wages and producing more ware. I’ve set quotas that must be met each day. Simple as that.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I disagree. I believe quality will win.”
“I suppose only time will tell who is correct, but I intend to make a profit with this pottery as quickly as possible.”
She matched his stride as they returned to the office. “So you can move into an office in Wheeling or Pittsburgh?”
“Exactly. I don’t want this to be the final stop in my career. I know you and your brother have big dreams for your pottery, but my dreams take me far beyond Harkness Pottery.”
Rose wasn’t offended by his reply. She thought he would probably achieve his goal. Not because of his hard work and dedication, but because his father and grandfather before him had been willing to labor long hours and make the necessary sacrifices to gain success.
They were a short distance from the hotel when Joshua mentioned her graduation party and then inquired about their pending move to Grafton.
“Ewan’s recent letter stated he was negotiating to purchase a house he believed we would all enjoy. There’s some question about whether the owner will agree to Ewan’s offer. We’re all eager to be together again, so I’m hopeful they’ll come to an agreement.”
“And will Beatrice be moving to Grafton with the family?”
“As far as I know she will. Why do you ask?”
He fumbled with his jacket and finally withdrew his watch. Instead of snapping open the clasp to check the time, he rubbed the gold case back and forth between his thumb and fingertips. “I merely wondered. When our family has made moves in the past, some members of the staff didn’t care to leave the area. When we danced, Beatrice mentioned she has family in Bartlett. I thought she might want to remain close to them.”
Joshua’s question followed her as she climbed the hotel staircase and entered the rooms she shared with Mrs. Woodfield. He’d not inquired about any member of her family, yet he’d asked about Beatrice. Why he would care if Tessa’s nanny remained in Bartlett or came with them to Grafton mystified her.
Bartlett, West Virginia
W
hen Rose and Mrs. Woodfield arrived home, Laura met them at the front door. She held a letter in her hand. “Good news from Ewan. The house is ours. The owner finally agreed to the price he offered.” Laura tapped the envelope. “They haven’t yet moved out, but he wants us to prepare for our move.”
Mrs. Woodfield gave her daughter a firm nod. “I’m glad we had the servants begin packing as soon as Ewan departed for Grafton. I think we should make a trip to see the house for ourselves before we begin arranging for furniture shipment. What if our furniture doesn’t fit in the new house?” She looked around the parlor. “Since I don’t plan to sell Woodfield Manor just yet, I think we should leave most of the furnishings here. You and Ewan may grow weary of having me around, and I wouldn’t want to return to an unfurnished house. Besides, I think it would be lovely if you and Ewan purchased new furnishings for your home.”
“As long as there is a bed to sleep in and a dining table and chairs where we can take our meals, I doubt Ewan will care about furnishings. And I’m doubly certain he won’t want to spend precious hours choosing draperies and carpet.” Laura brightened and looked back and forth between Rose and her mother. “I do think a trip to Grafton is in order so we’ll know what we must purchase, but I’ll want to be frugal, Mother.”
Mrs. Woodfield gave a slight nod and stepped into the hallway as Joseph and Zeke carried in their baggage. “Don’t take those upstairs. We’re going to depart again.”
Zeke’s forehead creased, and his eyes shone with confusion. “You want me to lug these back out to the wagon and take you back to the train station, Mrs. Woodfield?”
“No, we won’t leave until tomorrow. Sally can unpack any of the personal items I’ll need and carry them upstairs.” She turned to Laura and Rose. “I best go upstairs and rest, or I’ll have a headache and have to stay home.”
Laura grasped Rose’s hand as the older woman marched upstairs. “Come sit down and tell me about your visit to the pottery. Did you discover anything that might be helpful with our pottery? Was Joshua attentive? Did he escort you and Mother to supper? Did the two of you have any time alone?”
Rose followed her into the parlor and sat down next to her on the divan. “Let me see if I can remember all of your questions. No, I don’t think visiting Joshua’s pottery was helpful. Yes, Joshua was attentive, and yes, he escorted us to supper, and yes we did have some time alone.” Rose giggled. “Was that everything?”
“Your memory is quite good, but I would enjoy some additional details. I’m surprised your visit didn’t yield any helpful ideas for the pottery. From what Joshua told Ewan during your graduation party, I expected to hear news of exciting innovations being made at their pottery.”
The comment caught Rose by surprise. Had she missed something during her tour of the pottery? Had Joshua intentionally withheld information? “I didn’t see anything I would consider new or original. He didn’t divulge any of his contracts or let me review his books.”
Laura tapped her index finger to her lips and stared into the distance. “No. I don’t think it was a contract. He said something about making changes at the pottery. Both Ewan and I wondered if he’d come upon some new piece of equipment or a unique process for making the ware.”
Rose shook her head. “Joshua wouldn’t spend money to purchase equipment for the pottery. He wants only to turn a profit so he can convince his father he can take over for him one day soon. The changes he’s making aren’t ones that Ewan would ever consider.”
Laura gasped as if shocked that Rose would make such a sweeping statement. “What do you mean? Ewan has never objected to trying new ideas.”
“Joshua’s ideas aren’t new. He’s decided the best way to make a profit is to lower costs, mostly on the backs of his workers.” Rose straightened her shoulders. “I disagree with him, but he believes his way will make him successful.”
“I’ve always known his father to be a good businessman, not overly sentimental but fair in his business dealings. My father conducted business with him for many years before the war.” Laura tucked a stray wisp of hair back in place. “And what about the social time you had with Joshua? Did you find him to be a gallant escort?”
Heat spread across Rose’s cheeks. “I did. He’s a true gentleman, and I do like him, even if I don’t agree with how he conducts his business and treats his workers.”
Laura leaned a bit closer. “Did you and Joshua make plans to see each other again?”
“He did say that he would come and visit once we’ve moved to Grafton. He said I could show him through our pottery.”
“Nothing more? Did he mention taking you to dinner?”
“Yes, but I said it wasn’t necessary.”
“Rose McKay! How do you intend to be courted when you tell a man his invitation is unnecessary?”
Rose shrugged. “I like Joshua, but if he merely wishes to visit the pottery, I don’t want him to feel obligated to see me socially.”
Laura sighed and massaged her forehead. “Dear, dear Rose. I fear your knowledge of men is quite limited. Men must gather their courage in order to ask a lady to accompany them on an outing.” She arched her brows. “Don’t you see?”
Rose wasn’t sure she did. It all sounded rather silly. Like a game of cat and mouse. “I have a bit of a better understanding. Thank you for taking time to explain, Laura. I promise to be more careful in the future.” Rose glanced toward the pounding of shoes on the staircase.
Ainslee soon appeared, her hair flying behind her. Though the twins would soon turn sixteen, they seldom took time to fashion their hair, both of them preferring no more than a loose ribbon tied around their locks. Both Ainslee and Adaira teetered between immaturity and adulthood, their behavior as unpredictable as the weather.
“Rose, you’re back! Did you have fun? Grandmother Woodfield says we’re going to Grafton. I can hardly wait.” Before allowing time for an answer, she turned to Laura. “Are we all going?”
“Yes, we’re all going. Even Tessa,” Laura said.
Ainslee turned to her older sister. “Well, did you have fun?” There was a trace of jealousy in her tone.
Rose decided she wouldn’t reference the hotel and fine meals she’d enjoyed. No need to say anything that could create envy. “It was nice to tour the pottery and learn more about how Joshua operates his business.”
“Visiting a pottery doesn’t sound like fun.” Ainslee wrinkled her nose. “I’m going upstairs to lay out my clothes to wear tomorrow.”
Laura’s gaze followed after Ainslee for a moment before she turned back toward Rose. “Would you ask Beatrice if she would pack a small bag for Tessa before you go to your room?”
Rose pushed up from the divan. “I’ll be happy to stop at the nursery. I missed Tessa.” She glanced over her shoulder as she strode toward the stairway. “Is Beatrice traveling with us to Grafton?”
Laura shook her head. “No. I think we can manage without her. I’m sure she’d enjoy an extra day off to visit with her family.”
Rose’s thoughts rushed back to Joshua’s recent inquiry. Resting her hand on the newel post, she stopped before ascending the steps. “Has Beatrice said if she plans to move to Grafton with us?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“I thought she might want to remain close to her family. ’Tis only a half-hour walk to her house now, but once we move, she’d need to ride the train to visit her relatives.” Rose continued up the stairs before Laura quizzed her further. It would be awkward to explain that it had been Joshua who’d asked about the nanny’s future plans.
As she topped the stairs leading to the nursery, Rose spied the small sampler hanging on the nursery door handle. Ignoring the
Visitors, Please Knock
message the nanny had embroidered on the sampler, Rose opened the door and stepped inside the nursery.
Beatrice’s features creased into a tight frown. “Did ya not see the sampler hanging on the door, Rose?”
Had the two of them not been distant relatives, Rose doubted Beatrice would have taken such a tone with her. The two young women had never met while living in Ireland, and they’d met only a time or two after Beatrice and her immediate family arrived in West Virginia. Yet Beatrice assumed a lack of formality toward Rose and the twins that she would never take with Laura or Mrs. Woodfield.
“Aye, but I’ve told you in the past, I do not consider myself a visitor. Besides, I think the message a bit of nonsense.”
Rose didn’t understand why anyone would need to knock. The doorway led directly into Tessa’s play area. The room where the toddler took her daily naps was separated by yet another door.