Authors: Judith Miller
She continued across the room with her attention focused upon the child. The little girl lifted a rag doll in one hand and swung it around. The doll hit a stack of blocks that topped to the floor. Rose smiled as she knelt down beside Tessa. “I hope you haven’t hurt your baby. Maybe she needs a hug.” Rose lifted Tessa’s arms to surround the doll. “There. Give your baby a big hug.”
Tessa squeezed the doll and giggled.
“’Tis time for her nap. If you’re wantin’ to play with her, you’ll need to come back later.” Beatrice strode toward them and grasped the child’s hand.
Tessa cried in protest, and Rose pushed to her feet. “Why don’t you let me put her down for her nap? We’re going to be leaving for Grafton in the morning, and Laura asked that you pack a change of clothing for Tessa and a few small toys.”
Beatrice’s eyebrows dipped low on her forehead. “Is the missus expectin’ me to come along?”
“Nay. You’re to have the day off. We’ll leave on the early morning train and won’t return until evening.”
Beatrice brightened and immediately released her hold on Tessa’s hand. “Fine it is, then. I’ll see to packin’ a bag while you put her to bed.”
Rose held Tessa’s chubby hand as she stepped into the child’s sleeping room. Though it was an adequate size for a small bed, rocking chair, and table, there was space for little else. While she quietly read a fairy tale to the child, Rose could hear Beatrice shuffling about in the other room. Soon, Tessa’s eyelids drooped closed, and her soft snores signaled she was fast asleep.
She quietly tiptoed out of the room and pulled the door behind her, leaving it slightly ajar so Beatrice could hear the child when she wakened. As Rose entered the playroom, Beatrice closed the small bag and glanced up at Rose. “She asleep?”
Rose nodded. “I’ll stop by later after she’s awakened from her nap.”
“Would ya have a few minutes to sit here and listen for Tessa? I’d like to fetch myself a bite of food. I’m guessin’ that what with fussin’ over the old missus, Catherine forgot to bring me my tray.”
Rose nodded her agreement, but Beatrice’s reference to Mrs. Woodfield as the “old missus” annoyed her. No matter what privileges Beatrice received, she continued to remain sullen and unappreciative. And though Rose hadn’t expected special thanks for having extended an invitation to her graduation party, Beatrice’s behavior toward her sometimes reminded Rose of the insufferable behavior she’d received from her classmates. For a moment, she thought of speaking to Beatrice about her conduct but doubted anything she said would be taken well. After all, she didn’t pay the nanny’s wages.
As she opened the door leading into the hallway, Beatrice looked over her shoulder. “How was Joshua?”
The hairs on the back of Rose’s neck prickled. Was Beatrice determined to offend? First the remark about Mrs. Woodfield and now her question regarding Joshua. Beatrice flashed a fleeting smirk.
Determined to avoid conflict, Rose forced a smile. “He was quite well. We enjoyed dinner on several occasions, and I toured his pottery. The visit proved most helpful.”
“All under the watchful eye of the old missus, I’m guessin’.”
Rose bristled. “Both of us were pleased to have Grandmother Woodfield join us on our outings.”
“Sure, and I’m believin’ that.” Beatrice flung the remark at Rose and then yanked the door closed behind her with a thud.
Rose stared at the door for several moments and attempted to sort through the last half hour. What had begun as a simple request to pack Tessa’s clothing had turned into something much different. Something Rose didn’t understand.
While Rose leaned down to pick up Tessa’s toys, pieces of the recent conversation with Beatrice popped into her thoughts. After gathering the child’s scattered belongings into her arms, Rose placed them in the hand-carved toy box. She’d never owned a beautiful toy box, but then again she’d had few toys—none of them worthy of such a beautiful container. She traced her fingers over the intricate design, thankful that Tessa would grow up without the scars caused by poverty and hardship. Advantages enjoyed by those living in Woodfield Manor had caused Beatrice to become jealous and bitter.
She sat down near the small bookcase filled with books. Some had belonged to Laura, but others had been purchased since Tessa’s birth. Most were far beyond the understanding of a two-year-old, but Mrs. Woodfield said a child was never too young to learn. “You can never know what is captured in a young child’s mind. That’s why the books we read to her must be of excellent quality.”
Rose thought the little girl would rather play peekaboo than hear one of Shakespeare’s sonnets, so whenever she visited, she read a sonnet before playing. Beatrice’s ability to read was limited, so Rose doubted she would ever choose anything written by Shakespeare. After tracing her fingers along the spines of several books, her fingers stilled and she removed a leather-bound volume. As she lifted the book from the shelf, she turned toward the window and noticed an envelope on the windowsill.
She stretched forward until her fingers touched the envelope. With a claw-like motion, she inched the missive into her grasp and turned it over. Her breath caught at the sight. The envelope bore the return address of Harkness Pottery Works and was addressed to Beatrice at the address of her family’s home rather than Woodfield Manor. She stared at the envelope, her disbelief increasing by the second. The pounding of her heart sounded like a thousand drums, each one keeping time to a different beat.
The envelope had already been opened and left in plain sight. After only a brief moment, Rose convinced herself it wouldn’t be so terrible to examine the contents. She slipped one finger beneath the flap, but before she could remove the pages from their hiding place, the door opened.
Beatrice gaped at the letter in Rose’s hand before releasing a blood-curdling screech. “What are you doing reading my personal mail?” Her features twisted in an angry contortion as she dashed across the room and snatched the letter from Rose’s hand. “You may be related to the Woodfields, but it don’t give ya no right to read my mail.”
Rose blanched. “I didn’t read it. All I saw was the outside of the envelope, but I’ll not deny that I’m more than a little interested in why Joshua Harkness would be writing to you.”
“Are ya thinkin’ I’m not worthy of a letter from him? Is that why you’re asking? Or is it because you think he took more than a passing interest in me the night of your party?” Beatrice’s questions were spewed with a huge dose of venom.
Granted, the nanny had a right to be angry, but Rose was shocked by her rancor. She hadn’t read the letter, but surely her curiosity as to why Joshua was writing to Beatrice was understandable.
Rose inhaled a cleansing breath. “I apologize for touching your letter, Beatrice, but it was lying out in the open, and I did not read it. You may recall that I introduced you to Joshua and insisted he dance with you. I am not jealous, merely curious why he was writing to you.”
“The only reason you didn’t read it is because I walked in on you.” Beatrice tipped her nose toward the ceiling as though she’d suddenly become the lady of the house rather than a servant. “How can I forget you
insisted
Joshua dance with me when I have you around to remind me?” She shoved the letter into her apron pocket. “Ya need not be worried. The letter was to tell me my brother might find work at the Harkness Lumber Mill. When we talked at your party, I told him my brother, Liam, was looking for work.”
Though she’d told Beatrice she wasn’t jealous, Rose experienced an unexpected sense of relief upon hearing why Joshua had written. “Then it’s good that you have the day off tomorrow. I’m sure your brother will be pleased you heard from Joshua.”
Beatrice’s lips tipped up on one side. “Not near as pleased as me.”
The nanny’s words replayed in Rose’s mind as she strode down the hallway. Her fingers tightened around the glass doorknob leading into her room as she recalled Joshua’s inquiry regarding Beatrice’s plans to move to Grafton. With a deep sigh, Rose turned the knob and pushed open the door. She was making a mountain out of a molehill.
Grafton, West Virginia
Mid-July 1872
T
he move to Grafton had gone more easily than anticipated because several relatives who had worked for Ewan at the brickyard agreed to help pack and load the families’ belongings. Since Laura and Mrs. Woodfield agreed they would leave most of the furniture at Woodfield Manor, the task proved more manageable than originally planned.
Now that they were settled and Rose had begun her position at the McKay Pottery Works, she could barely contain her enthusiasm. Since his arrival, Ewan hadn’t changed the operation, but now the two of them were going to sit down with Rylan and the various foremen to discuss modifications and additions to the business. Over the past few days, she’d taken time to introduce herself and visit with the workers in each of the departments. The women and children had been welcoming and open during her visits with them. The men had answered her questions but offered nothing more. Though she’d been dismayed by their unwillingness to communicate with her, Ewan said she expected too much. Men weren’t accustomed to having a woman as their superior, and it would take time for them to accept her. Only Rylan seemed to welcome her without question.
This morning, she hoped the men’s reluctance to accept her could be set aside and there could be open discussion among all of them. If so, she believed the foremen could help alleviate any concerns the other men might have about her.
From the narrow windows in Ewan’s office, Rose watched as the foremen slowly gathered in the entrance hall shortly before ten o’clock. They watched the large clock that hung near the entrance. None of them appeared pleased. None of them seemed eager to step inside the office before ten o’clock. Not even Rylan Campbell, who had taken up a position beside Mr. Wheeler. The two of them were deep in conversation when the clock struck ten and the circle of men disbanded and trudged toward the office door. Rose thought they looked like men preparing to ascend to the gallows.
She glanced at her brother. “They certainly are a gloomy-looking group. I hope this isn’t a forecast of how the meeting is going to proceed.” The door opened before Ewan could respond, and Rose turned to greet the men with a welcoming smile. She was somewhat disappointed when only one of the foremen and Rylan smiled in return.
Ewan had already explained it would be best for him to take the lead during this first meeting, and she agreed. While Ewan told the men there would need to be changes made in the pottery in order to return it to a profitable operation, he didn’t touch upon several of the ideas they’d privately discussed. And though he said they had plans to make things better for all of the workers, he didn’t mention how that would be done.
Robert, their finest jiggerman and the foreman in the clay shop, leaned his muscular arms on the long wooden table where they’d gathered. “So can I tell my men they can be expecting more money come payday?”
“Nay, you cannot tell them any such thing, Robert. It’s my hope that one day every man, woman, and child working in this pottery will have more money in their pockets, but right now we’re barely making ends meet. ’Twould not be wise to make promises about pay when I have no way of knowing what’s going to happen in the future. Until the day comes when I’m sure we’re making enough money to pay better wages, you should say nothing about an increase in wages.”
Robert leaned back in his chair and folded his thick arms across his chest. “You may not know that the potteries in East Liverpool offer better wages for experienced workers, Mr. McKay, but I’m giving you fair warning that all the men out there know it, and they’re not happy.” He lifted his arms from his chest and pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward the workshops. “If you’re not going to give us more money, then why all this talk about making things better for the workers? The thing that’s gonna make life more bearable for them is money.”
Ewan traced his fingers through his hair. “I understand money is important, but if I pay out more than I have coming in, the company will go under, and I don’t think any of us want to see that happen. As for the wages being paid in East Liverpool, I cannot stop any man from doing what is best for his family, but it’s my hope they’ll remain and work with me to see this pottery become the finest in West Virginia.”
“In the entire United States.” Rose beamed at the group of men. “That is our goal.”
Robert guffawed and gave her a look of utter disdain. “You best go and visit some other potteries in Ohio before you go thinking you’re gonna be the best in the country, Miss McKay. Once you’ve bested the potteries in East Liverpool, then you can think about the rest of the country.”
Rose placed her folded hands on the table and met Robert’s scornful stare. “Thank you for your suggestion, Mr. Wilson. I have already visited one pottery located here in West Virginia, but I intend to visit others as time permits.”
Rylan frowned at Robert and gave a slight shake of his head. “No need to be bad-mannered, Robert. I don’t think Miss McKay asked for your opinion.”
Rose turned toward her brother. “Perhaps Ewan will reveal some of our plans to make the pottery more competitive, which will, in turn, permit us to gain more contracts and eventually lead to higher wages. If time permits, I’d be pleased to speak to all of you about some other ways we intend to provide meaningful changes to the pottery.”
Ewan gave a brief summation of their plans to bring back additional decorators and offer new designs that would draw interest from their previous buyers. When the men appeared unmoved, he inhaled a deep breath and continued. “We need to lure old customers back to this pottery. One way we can do that will be to offer something that will appeal to those customers. Once we have their interest, we can regain their confidence by meeting orders on time and producing the best product on the market. I hope that we will be able to expand all areas of the pottery very quickly, but I believe the quickest and most economical method will be through producing several unique designs to capture their interest. In the end, we must always deliver an excellent product. That was my goal in my brickyard, and it will be my goal in this pottery. We will always strive to please the customer.”