Page 75 of His Spirited Lady
“What am I supposed to say?” she whispered to Drake.
“You don’t need anyone to tell you that.” He looked down his nose at her, but his eyes were kind. “You know what you’re doing, and you know what you want. This is just another negotiation, Amelia. Be direct and be honest.”
Reports began on the other side of the room, but Amelia half-listened to stories of paper mills, dressmakers, and sheep farms. That changed when Mrs. Reid took the floor to explain her proposal for expanding women’s education.
“We could do that easily,” Thea whispered.
“I was thinking the same thing. There’s a vacant parcel on the other side of the village, past the print shop and the jeweler.” Amelia rubbed her thumb over her betrothal ring, tracing the intricate facets until the large stone was warm. She’d worn it today for luck, and as evidence of her and Richard’s solidarity, but was it useful if he wasn’t here?
And if her conviction was only based on his presence, was she really convinced?
Thea began her report on the inn’s profits, the expansion of her holdings, and the interest garnered on her investments throughout the village. Oliver and Richard slipped into the back of the room while she was speaking. One’s pride was just as evident as the other’s shock as he took in the number of women at the table.
“Now for Miss Chitester’s report,” Octavia said. “Which I have saved until last because I wanted to give you a chance to savor the wine at your places—which it appears all of you have.” She waited for the laughter to subside. “But now, let us raise our whiskey glasses to our youngest member’s first aged batch.”
Tentative sips were greeted with smiles and nods. Most then finished their glasses, though some abstained. Amelia cleared her throat and wished, not for the first time today, that she hadn’t screamed so much overnight.
“This is a two-year old wheat whiskey flavored with figs and oranges. While it aged, I continued brewing white whiskey and distributing it to inns and taverns in Norfolk, as well as to some private buyers. To help cover operating expenses, I entered into a distribution agreement with Villa Rosnay, a small winery owned by Richard Ferrand, whereby I retain a portion of the profits and a supply of barrels to use for future whiskey batches.”
Drake unfolded his report. “My apologies, but I didn’t have time to copy this since I completed Miss Chitester’s most recent sales this morning. She has orders for this batch and a waiting list for future ones. The work she has done with Mr. Ferrand has covered her operating expenses as well as added significantly to both their accounts. Net of expenses and the payment she is contracted to make to you today, she has netted close to thirty pounds this month. I see no reason that profit margin won’t continue, putting her on track to earn approximately three hundred pounds in the coming year.”
Amelia stared at him open-mouthed.Threehundredpounds?
“Well done,” Octavia said from the head of the table. “Questions? Yes, Lady Barber?”
“You are engaged to Mr. Ferrand, are you not?”
“I am.” Pride shot through Amelia’s chest and down her fingers, where it was anchored by her ring.
“And since he’s Canadian, I assume you will reside with him there.” Lady Barber addressed the room as a whole. “This is why I was leery of loaning funds to such a young lady for a labor and time intensive venture. She has tired of it in favor of a family and a home.”
Richard rose from his chair, but Amelia found her voice first. “Lady Barber, I remember your objections well.” She fought her rising temper. “Let me assure each of you. There are two years’ worth of barrels aging in Norfolk. If I never brew another batch, or if I have a failed batch, the distillery will continue to pay dividends and support our charitable mission. Should I leave for Canada, or any destination, I have a staff fully capable of bottling my product and distributing it under Mr. Fletcher’s direction.”
The truth of her statements rang through her as she focused on Richard. She knew what she wanted.
“Mr. Ferrand is a successful businessman in two profitable industries on three separate continents. Should I need an adviser, he will be an asset.” Amelia nailed the sour-faced older woman with a glare. “But unless you have sat beside me in the middle of the night while I’ve filled whiskey barrels, or helped me negotiate a price for wheat, you cannot consider yourself my supervisor. I believe I’ve proved I don’t need one.”
*
“Are you certainI can’t convince you?” Jasper Warren asked. Smoke from his cigar circled his head before drifting into the night sky. “Oakdale would be the perfect wedding gift.”
“It would be,” Richard agreed. “But you’re setting me up to disappoint her every anniversary for the rest of my life.” His dry laugh scratched deeper than his throat.
“Or to escape gifts altogether.” Warren’s smile was feral in the lamplight. “And think of the honeymoon.”
Richard let the risqué comment go. After all, men in glass houses…
“I appreciate the offer, Jasper, but I have my reasons.”
The other man extended his hand. “If I had to choose between France and Norfolk, I know which I’d settle on.”
Perhaps Warren would take the winery in trade. Though Richard would never sell it now. “Exactly.” He shook Warren’s hand, sealing his fate. “Thank you for understanding.”
They returned to the ballroom, and Richard found Amelia in the crowd. It wasn’t just her dress, which she’d worn for their first engagement party. She’d glowed since the end of their meeting today. And justifiably so. She’d succeeded in the face of obstacles her class and her beauty had put in front of her. Now she was excited by the opportunity to help others do the same.
Her smile was blinding as he joined them. “Lord and Lady Althorne, may I present Richard Ferrand. Richard, Lady Althorne is a poet, and Lord Althorne has a shipping business in Paris.” She turned to the other man. “Richard has lumber mills in Canada and in Norfolk, and his winery is in Rosnay.”
“We’ve just returned from our home in Bougival,” Althorne said. “We traveled through Rosnay on our way from the coast. It’s a lovely area.”
