Rupert looked into her clear eyes and felt his guilt deepen. It would be pleasant to ride with them and he almost gave in to temptation, but his suspicions needed to be answered.
‘Yes, well, perhaps my business need not take long. Which way do you intend to ride?’
‘Francesca said we might ride past the water meadows and come back through the village.’
‘Very well, perhaps I shall join you later on your ride.’
‘I do hope so,’ she said, smiled again and went to join the others. He heard the sound of voices and laughter outside as the grooms helped them to mount and the party set out.
Walking upstairs, Rupert fought down his rising sense of guilt. He paused outside the governess’s room, knocked and then entered. Looking round, he saw that it was very neat, the bed made and nothing out of place. Obviously, she was in the habit of keeping things tidy and did not make extra work for the maids.
He could see no sign of any papers. The desk that had been provided for her use was empty of letters or personal items, displaying only the inkwell and pen trays, also a pad for leaning one’s paper on. His heart thudding and a sick feeling in his stomach, Rupert walked to the desk. He had never done such a despicable thing in his life. Feeling like the worst sort of rogue, he picked up the pad and saw that the soft surface had indentations, but though he studied them for a moment he could not pick out any words. He hesitated, then opened the long top drawer. It was empty. Each of the first two drawers on the side was similarly unused, but in the third he found a small wooden box, which was obviously used to store papers and letters. It was locked.
Rupert glanced round the room. Where would the key be hidden—or did she have it with her? He considered making a search and then the enormity of what he was doing swept over him.
This was despicable! Miss Goodrum was entitled to her privacy and he was not behaving as a gentleman ought. If he wanted her confidence, he must earn it. Replacing the box, he closed the desk drawer and left the room. As he reached the end of the hall, he saw a maid approaching. She looked at him curiously, no doubt wondering what he was doing so far from his own rooms.
He would change into his riding breeches, walk down to the stables and go in search of his pupils and their governess.
* * *
Sarah had been pleasantly surprised in the mare she was given. It was a spirited creature and far superior to what she had expected might be offered to a mere governess. Lord Myers was clearly a good judge of horses and she was going to enjoy the experience.
She had spent some hours thinking before she was able to sleep the previous evening. Her agent had sent her a package containing several business matters, most of which she had managed to settle easily in a few words. The letter was lying unfinished in her writing box, because she had not been able to decide about what to do on the other matter.
Sam had told her that he had received an offer to purchase all her mills.
It comes from a solicitor, Miss Harding. He has not revealed the buyer’s name, but says that his client is well able to purchase all the mills and the price he is offering is far better than anything you’ve been offered before. My only hesitation in urging you to sell would be to do with his keeping his identity secret. There are certain men—rivals of your father—who might decide to either shut down the mills and sell off the property to reduce competition for their own trade or reduce wages and increase working hours. Your father was widely believed too generous and some of the mill owners thought that he had made it impossible for them to make the profits they wished, because key workers demanded the same rates as your father paid. However, I feel that while you have managed thus far you may find it hard to maintain the level of efficiency needed if you marry and have a family, as your father would have wished. Your husband might not have the same feeling for the workers as both you and your father have shown.
I await your decision as always,
Samuel Barnes
Sarah knew that the price offered was a good one. Perhaps not the full worth of the mills, but near enough to make it a viable proposition. It would be the easy way out for her, particularly since she had been wishing to make a change for a while. Had she been content with her life, she would not have felt the need to change places with Hester Goodrum.
However, coming here had made her see how pleasant a similar life might be. She would not wish to simply hand over everything to someone else. Even if she married, she would wish to be informed of all that was happening and to be consulted about any changes in the way things were run. It had come to her of late that in the right circumstances she could happily amuse herself with a family and friends, leaving business to her husband for the main part. If she were involved in the decision-making and consulted before the workers were put on short time—or, indeed, more were taken on, if the mill prospered—she did not need to be involved in the day-to-day running of the place.
Her uncle had always insisted she should take a husband and leave her business to him, but Sarah had felt compelled to keep her hands on the reins. She no longer felt as if she wished to spend all her life coping with the problems of running her father’s business empire and would be happy to hand much of it to another.
Yet she could not simply abandon her people and her principles to someone who might abuse them. Sarah was well aware that despite rumblings in Parliament, where the plight of mill workers and others in similar jobs had been debated, nothing of any consequence had been done to force the owners to treat their people decently. Women and even children worked in terrible conditions for long hours; they were given only a few minutes’ break to relieve themselves or drink some water and their mealtimes were restricted to a quarter of an hour in many cases. If they complained they were sent home and would be blacked by the other employers so that they found it impossible to get another job. The men fared little better and any that dared to speak out against the conditions might have to travel miles to find work to keep their families from starving. Sarah had recently taken in a family who had been thrown out of their home and refused work. Sam had told her that once Mr Arkwright discovered what she’d done, he would be very angry.
‘Matt Arkwright is a hard man, Miss Hardcastle. He fell out with your father over the wages he paid and they almost came to blows. He’ll not take kindly to you giving succour to a man he’s dismissed.’
‘If he does not like it, he must learn to live with it.’ Sarah had shrugged off her agent’s warning, but the next day she’d received a visit from Mr Arkwright. He had spent an hour haranguing her and left after issuing threats.
‘You’re a haughty piece, Miss Hardcastle, but you’ll come unstuck. You think your wealth entitles you to act like a lady and carry on with your head in the clouds, but one of these days you’ll go too far.’
‘I fail to see what business it is of yours whom I choose to employ, sir.’
‘We mine owners stick together. If you give these troublemakers an inch, they’ll take a yard. Before you know it, we’ll have rioting and people will get hurt. You’ve been warned, Miss Hardcastle. Think on it!’
Sarah had put the unpleasant scene from her mind. She did not think the man she’d employed was a troublemaker and had no intention of letting a rival owner tell her how to run her affairs. However, she now wondered if it was Matt Arkwright who had offered for the mills. She’d almost made up her mind to reject the offer, but if it was Arkwright she would have made herself an enemy.
Yet to allow him to destroy all her father had set out to do was unthinkable.
‘Isn’t it lovely out?’ Francesca asked, coming up beside her. ‘How do you like your mare?’
‘She is perfect. Very responsive,’ Sarah said. ‘John is ahead of us—shall we catch him up?’
‘Yes.’ Francesca did not immediately suit her actions to her words. ‘Are you still