The Colonel's Spinster - Audrey Harrison Page 0,49

gentlemen alighted from the carriage. Fitzwilliam looked around. There was more space between the mill and houses than the others he had seen, but only slightly. The streets were about half the width of the streets he frequented in London, and yet there seemed to be about double the amount of traffic on them. Public houses and shops seemed to be on each street corner, with the residential houses spanning away in rigid lines of dark brick. A few people idly watched their arrival; they appeared to be older women, or women with babes in arms. One or two were scrubbing the front steps or cleaning windows. It was clear they noticed the carriage but weren’t interested enough in its occupants to stop their endeavours.

Mr. Bamber led the way through the bustling mill yard. Piles of products, from raw goods to boxes of finished items were stacked around the busy space. Mr. Bamber’s arrival in the yard was noticed, the men doffing their caps and the women calling out good morning to him. A few of the woman cat-called or whistled at Mr. Huxley and Fitzwilliam.

Mr. Huxley glanced at Fitzwilliam. “If Mr. Bamber wasn’t with us their calls would be far more raucous. I can say this with the voice of experience. It is terrifying.”

“They are good workers, but they don’t miss an opportunity to heckle,” Mr. Bamber said. “They would frighten most men.”

“We should have used them against the French,” Fitzwilliam said.

“It would have been over a lot quicker if we had. No disrespect to you all, of course, but I’ve seen these girls in action. It’s a shame what they put a callow youth through on his first day at work. He has to toughen up and fast if he is to survive their taunts.” Mr. Bamber shuddered.

“No offence taken at your comparison. I am already afraid of walking through this yard unescorted. How does Miss Bamber deal with them?”

“Oh, Prudence is treated with affection by them all, but they can and do tease her,” Mr. Bamber said. “She grew up around here, and a motherless child will always bring out the maternal streak in these girls. She was petted as a young girl, spoiled even.”

Fitzwilliam was amazed as he walked through the cotton-filled loom room and card room. The noise was unbelievable as the large machinery whirred and clanked in place, with workers moving in time to the mechanical dance. The cotton fibres made him choke, but he noticed large fans moving the white snow away from the workers and machinery.

He was stunned for a moment or two when the door to the office closed and the noise was muted somewhat.

“It is an impressive sight at first look isn’t it?” Mr. Huxley asked. “I was completely overawed.”

“I have never seen anything like it,” Fitzwilliam said.

“It warms my heart every time I walk through,” Mr. Bamber admitted. “I’ll never tire of the noise or the smell of the oil and cotton. However strange that sounds.”

“It just makes you sound like a man happy with his lot in life,” Fitzwilliam said.

“The only way to be. Why hanker after something we can’t achieve? I would never be accepted in your circles, even though I could buy and sell most of those who would look down their noses at my humble beginnings. Who are the fools in that situation?”

“You make a good point, sir.”

“Well I didn’t bring you here to start talking about the rights and wrongs of society. Come, Mr. Huxley, let’s show the Colonel what a working man’s day is like!”

They were half-way through the afternoon when a breathless Prudence burst into the office, animated and flushed. Fitzwilliam had been pouring over some paperwork but immediately moved towards her.

“Anne?” he asked.

“Yes! She woke! Only for a little time, but she opened her eyes. The doctor says the fever has broken!”

“Oh, thank God!” Mr. Huxley exclaimed, sinking into a chair.

Fitzwilliam walked over to Prudence and squeezed her outstretched hands. “Thank you for all you have done. Thank you most sincerely.”

Prudence returned the pressure of his fingers. “She managed to fight it. We didn’t think she would, but she is stronger than we all thought. The doctor says there is still a long way to go before she is completely out of danger, but it’s a start. I had to come tell you.”

“We owe you a real debt of gratitude.”

“I love Anne. Almost from the first moment I met her,” Prudence admitted. Her hands were still grasped in Fitzwilliam’s, and she