The Potter's Lady (18 page)

The girl had proved to be a good source of information and provided him with enjoyable entertainment. He wanted—no, he needed—to keep her happy for the time being. Eventually, he would break her heart. When that happened, she might create problems, but he’d take his chances. If she caused him any trouble in the future, he’d find a way to silence her. Otherwise, she might find herself on a ship to some foreign country, where she’d never be heard from again.

For now, he’d let her think she controlled him. He’d pay her what she asked, and he’d buy her trinkets from time to time to keep her happy. But in the end, she’d discover the truth, and she’d wish she had never stepped onto the dance floor with him at Rose McKay’s party.

Rylan gulped a large breath of air and made a quick dash across the dirt path and skirted around the livery. Once he crossed the path, he couldn’t be seen from the rear of the hotel. He hoped Joshua and the redheaded girl hadn’t seen him. If he was smart, he’d go back to work, but he wanted to go inside the dining room. If he took a table where they couldn’t see him, he might be able to discover exactly what was going on between them.

From what he’d seen, it appeared Joshua had more than a passing interest in the girl. But what about Rose? For sure, it appeared betrayal was afoot. How could Joshua deceive someone as beautiful and kind as Rose? Besides, wouldn’t Joshua’s family expect him to marry a young woman of means, someone like Rose? Wasn’t that why he’d been coming here each Wednesday and escorting her to the theatre or joining her family for dinner? So why was he secretly meeting another woman?

He rushed toward the hotel, his anger rising as he gained a clear understanding of Joshua Harkness and his ungentlemanly behavior. How could he treat this young woman in such a manner? More important, how could he lie to Rose? She believed he was a kind, good-hearted man who didn’t have a mean bone in his body.

Yanking his hat from atop his head, Rylan entered the hotel and strode to the doorway leading into the restaurant. He stepped to one side and gazed around the room. When a waitress approached him, he gestured toward the room. “I’m looking for a couple, both about my age. She’s wearing a dress with blue stripes and has auburn hair. His hair is light brown and he’s wearing a suit.”

The waitress shook her head. “I’ve been working since breakfast. Haven’t seen any redheads or good-looking fellas, except for you.” She grinned. “There’s a table free in my section if you want it.”

He shook his head. “Thanks for your help, but I’ll take a seat at the counter since I don’t have much time.”

After placing his order for the special, he continued to survey the room. There were no hidden spaces in the dining room, no large ferns or columns a couple could hide behind, but where had they gone? While he downed biscuits topped with chicken and gravy, he tried to figure out how he’d missed them. Had they gone in the back door, walked down the hallway, and departed out the front door? That wasn’t possible. He would have seen them as he walked toward the hotel. He lifted his gaze and stared at the ceiling.

Were they in a room upstairs? Was Joshua courting Rose and secretly meeting another woman, as well? His thoughts raced as he finished the last bite of lunch and wiped his mouth. After downing a final gulp of coffee, he walked to the hotel lobby and peered down the hall. Joshua always stayed at this hotel, so asking if he was registered would yield nothing more than the room number. Unless he planned on marching upstairs and knocking on Joshua’s hotel door, knowing the room number served no purpose.

A boy who appeared to be no more than twelve appeared in the hallway carrying a tray of dirty dishes covered with a linen cloth. Rylan stepped into the boy’s path and smiled at him. “You deliver food to the rooms here?”

“When they need me. The rest of the time I’m a cook’s helper.” The boy turned sideway in an attempt to step around Rylan. “I gotta get back to the kitchen. You need something?”

“I just wondered if you’d seen a redheaded lady upstairs with a fellow who has a room here—Mr. Harkness.”

When the boy hesitated, Rylan reached in his pocket and removed a coin. “Would this help you remember?”

The boy snatched the coin out of Rylan’s fingers and dipped his head. “This here tray come from their room. They always eat the noon meal in there. I deliver it and pick up the dirty dishes. They leave ’em outside the door for me, and the fella always gives me a tip. The lady always turns her head when I bring the food into their room, like she doesn’t want me to see her, but I’d have to be blind to miss that red hair. I ain’t s’pose to say nothing.” Balancing the tray on his arm, the boy tucked the coin into his pocket. “But I got to think of my sick mama. What you give me will help pay for her medicine this week.” His brows dipped low with worry. “You won’t say I told you, will ya?”

Rylan shook his head. “Not a word. Thanks for your help.”

The boy scurried off toward the kitchen, and Rylan walked out the front door. He’d have to hurry, or Ewan would question where he’d been all this time. Rylan wasn’t sure if he should tell his employer about what he’d seen, but one thing was certain: Ewan would be concerned about those bids getting in the mail.

When Rylan returned to the office, Ewan glanced at the clock. “Any problems? I was beginning to get worried.”

Rylan shook his head. “No problems. Clyde said to set your mind at ease. He’ll make sure your mail is on the afternoon train. Guess I took a little longer than usual eating lunch. Clyde mentioned the noon special at the hotel, and I decided to go there. Figured it might be busy, but the chicken and gravy on biscuits tempted me.”

Ewan looked up from the pile of paper work strewn across his desk. “Aye, the hotel is always busy during the noon hour.” He gestured for Rylan to sit down. “I asked Rose to come to the office. She should be here shortly. We are going to have to make some decisions about the pottery, and you need to be here.”

Excitement swelled in Rylan’s chest, and he straightened his shoulders. He hadn’t expected to win Ewan’s confidence so quickly. To be included in decisions with Ewan and his sister must mean they valued his opinion. Ewan had been poring over the books the last few days, and the figures weren’t good. Perhaps they hoped to figure out some new way to increase orders.

While he waited, he tapped his foot against the wooden floor, his thoughts returning to the earlier events he’d witnessed in town. Should he tell Ewan what he suspected? If Rose was his sister, he’d be thankful for any information that would help to protect her, yet he didn’t know how Ewan might receive the news.

Rylan didn’t want his new employer to think him a man who stirred up trouble, especially since he didn’t possess any real evidence of Joshua’s wrongdoing. Rylan traced his fingers through his thatch of unruly hair. Revealing what he’d seen was too risky. He’d have to figure out another way to make Rose and Ewan think twice about Mr. Harkness.

Minutes later Rose hurried into the office, her indigo print dress protected by a stained canvas work apron. With a slight huff, she withdrew a hairpin from her apron pocket, tucked several wayward strands of hair into place, and jammed the pin into her upswept coif. That done, she dropped onto the chair beside Rylan.

He gave her a sidelong glance and wondered if she’d be devastated to learn what he’d seen only a short time ago. Did she already love Joshua, and would his unseemly behavior break her heart? She deserved a man who would cherish and love only her, not a philandering cad.

A momentary wave of guilt washed over him as he embraced thoughts of a future—a future with Rose at his side. If Joshua wasn’t courting her, would she consider him as a suitor? Nay. He silently chastised himself. Rose would marry a wealthy young man, a man of importance—a man like Joshua Harkness.

He was pulled from his wandering thoughts when Rose shifted in her chair. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I needed to finish the piece I was working on, or it would have been ruined. Aren’t our weekly meetings enough to take care of any problems?”

Ewan rested his arms on the heavy wooden desk. “Some things don’t need to be discussed with all of the supervisors present, and if I ask you and Rylan to remain after a regular meeting, some of the foremen would quiz Rylan about what was discussed. It puts him in a difficult position.”

Rose folded her hands and leaned back in the chair. “As long as it doesn’t take long. We’re busy in the decorating shop.”

Her tone bore a hint of impatience, and Ewan frowned. “Aye, and we’re busy here in the office, as well. We’re trying to decide how we’re going to pay all the bills and have enough money to pay the wages to the workers each week.”

She rubbed her temple. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to imply what I’m working on is more important than what you and Rylan are doing.”

“I know.” Ewan gave her a hint of a smile. “I wanted you to know we prepared several bids, and Rylan mailed them earlier today, but there’s no guarantee we’ll get the contracts. If it’s like the ones I sent out earlier in the month, we’ll get more rejection letters.” He pushed a ledger book across the desk in her direction. “If you take a look, you’ll see the numbers don’t match up very well.”

Rylan stared into a far corner. Being in the middle of a disagreement between family members wasn’t any more comfortable than being quizzed by the foremen. Besides, he had his doubts he’d be pleased with the outcome of this conversation. He and Ewan had already discussed the pottery’s finances.

Ewan was certain they needed to modify and enlarge their production in order to compete. Rylan disliked the idea of adding or removing items currently produced and believed it was too soon to consider further changes. Rose had already instituted more modifications than most of the workers wanted. Who could guess what she might suggest during this meeting?

Rose leaned forward and pushed the ledger back toward her brother. “I believe you, Ewan. I don’t need to look at the figures. You may be surprised to know that I’ve given this matter a great deal of thought. I haven’t forgotten that I’m the one who said we could make the pottery a prosperous business. I have an idea that may change this pottery forever.”

Her words sent a chill sluicing through Rylan’s body. Change. Rose’s favorite way to resolve problems, and his greatest aversion.

She scooted to the edge of her chair, her eyes shining with excitement. “If you would have asked for my ideas a few days ago, they would have been very different from the one I’m going to give you today.”

Ewan placed his hand atop the open ledger. “And why is that?”

She reached into her apron pocket, but rather than a hairpin, she withdrew an envelope. “This is a letter I received from Mrs. Fisk.” She looked at Ewan. “You’ll recall she is the director at the Philadelphia School of Design for Women.”

“Aye. I remember meeting her. I didn’t know you’d stayed in touch with her.”

“We’ve exchanged a few letters. She’s remained interested in my future plans.”

Ewan chuckled. “I do remember she didn’t think you’d be able to use your skills anywhere but in a large city. Does she still hold with that belief?”

“I think she agrees I’ll be able to use my talents here at the pottery.”

“What does she have to say that we need to hear?” Ewan leaned back in his chair.

“She’s sent me a bit of news that has changed my thinking. Before today, I was going to suggest we cease producing anything other than our specialty pieces.”

“What?” Rylan jumped to his feet. “How would that help anything?” Fear and anxiety gripped him in a tight hold.

Rose startled and her mouth gaped open.

Rylan could feel the heat rise in his cheeks as he dropped to his chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.”

Rose gave him a slight nod. “Since you asked, I thought we could develop a plan to make our pottery into an exclusive business that would create one-of-a-kind pieces that would fetch prices far above anything we currently make. News travels quickly. Once our work was sought after by the wealthy, we could begin to name our price.” She leaned toward her brother. “I thought we could exhibit pieces in the homes of some of your business contacts, and soon we’d have orders pouring into the office.”