Page 42 of The Beauty and the Boxer
“Even now that she’s remarried,” Dawnsaid.
Meredith had the idea that perhaps she wasreferring to her sister’s supposed step down in society, but theeager smile didn’t leave Dawn’s face. In truth, she just seemedgenuinely interested.
“Yes. She married Mr. Simon Archer not sixmonths ago.”
“And he is an acquaintance of the duke?”
“Yes.”
“How fascinating,” Dawn said. “I met yoursister a few years ago. It’s only my first year out in society. Idoubt she would remember me, but I wonder if I should reintroducemyself.”
“I’m sure she would remember you,” Meredithsaid. “Sarah remembers everyone.”
“Fascinating,” she said again as a troupe ofservants entered the room and served the first course.
A feast of the finest autumnal dishes wasset before the guests. Cream of asparagus soup, parsnips andturnips au gratin, herb encrusted venison, roasted pheasant andmore. The smells all complimented one another and Meredith wassurprised that she was able to swallow a dozen or so bites beforeher nerves stopped her.
When dinner was over, she decided to retireinstead of having tea and was grateful to have a full night’s sleepahead of her, except that just as she laid her head on her pillow,all the tiredness she had felt left her body and she laid awake forhours before she was able to fall into a fitful sleep.
She dreamt of walking in a forest—no,running. At first, she was sure she was searching for someone, Jackperhaps, only the entire atmosphere was heavy and dark. Soon, sherealized she was running away from someone and was desperate toreach a place ahead, almost as if she were racing against someoneor even time itself, but her life depended on it.
Before she could reach her destination,though, the darkness encompassed her and she heard quite vividlyClyde’s voice.
“I’m coming.”
Chapter Eight
Jack sat behind his desk, eyes locked on thegrandfather clock that sat across the room in the corner of hisoffice. The short, tear drop hour hand moved from the number eight,to nine and the constant ticking of the sweep hand moved across theclock face. The irritating noise struck a nerve deep in the back ofhis mind, causing an annoyance to fester as he tried to focus, butthe needling sound only seemed to echo louder the longer he satthere. It was 9:00 in the morning and he had already finishedeverything that needed to be done.
“Portage!” he called out, leaning back inhis chair.
The portly secretary came rushing into theroom, obviously worried that something was wrong. His glasses saton the very tip of his nose.
“Yes, Mr. Archer?”
“Are there no contracts to look over? Nobusiness to be done?”
“Oh, well, sir,” Portage said, shufflingthrough the stack of papers he carried. Flipping through the pages,he began to shake his head. “No, sir, none that I can findpresently.” He allowed himself to smile. “We are a finely tunedship, sir.”
“So, we’re not going under then? Because Ifind it a little ridiculous that there’s nothing to be done here.Surely there’s something that needs my attention.”
The hopeful smile that had been on Portage’sface fell away. Obviously, he had hoped to be praised for asmoothly operating business day, but was only met withanimosity.
“Well, um, no, sir. That is, there areseveral acquisitions scheduled for next week including theCrockett’s mining company, granting Mr. Benjamin has alreadyfinished that report.” He pulled his papers to his chest as hebegan to tick each of his fingers, counting down the coming week’smeetings. “You have a meeting with the bank next Tuesday. We’reexpecting paperwork from America to arrive any day now to finishthe acquisitions of the bolts manufacturing company, as well as ameeting with Mr. Harrow, who arrives in Bristol on Thursday. Youhad a trip scheduled this week to visit the lumber operations inScotland, but it is reset for next month. Mr. Archer, that is, theother Mr. Archer, has a meeting in the London offices—they arerequiring more of his time recently—but other than that, sir, no.There really isn’t anything that requires your attentiontoday.”
“Are there no inventors seeking investments?No bloody person in need of a loan?”
Portage stared at him as if he had lost hismind.
“Sir, don’t you usually prefer not to bepestered with such dealings?”
“Well, I can’t bloody well sit here all daylong doing nothing.”
“If I may, sir. The offices are very wellmanaged and while there is a considerable amount of work coming ourway in the next few weeks, there isn’t much to do over the next fewdays except filing paperwork.”
Jack nearly growled. What the hell was thepoint of him being here then?
“Then I guess I’ll go home,” he said,standing.
