Page 23 of Ravishing Camille
The very idea that that man was one of the two she considered marrying turned him to dust. If she ever uttered the word, Pierce would first strangle ignoble Mister Conner.
He stuffed his fury long enough to pay the shopkeeper for two copies of Camille’s novels he did not own. Out in the lane, he strode toward Victor’s muttering to himself. “Absurd! The man could not polish her shoes!”
* * *
His brother-in-law Lord Victor Cole had his local office in the Steine, which was the main thoroughfare north to south through the city of Brighton. Rounding the park fronted by the Royal Pavilion, he shook his head at that disastrous interpretation of fine Muslim construction which had been built in the early decades of the century by the old Prince Regent, later George the Fourth. Purchased by the town in eighteen-fifty from Queen Victoria who hated it, the building had been preserved as a museum.
As a commemorative to the former king, the palace was a hodge-podge of the west’s interpretation of an Indian Muslim ruler’s glory. The interior with its striking mustard yellows and sapphire blues, its silk Chinese carpets and Soochow pottery and laughing Buddhas was more a declaration of western colonialism than a true example of fine Eastern sculpture, furnishings or decor. The enormous iron dragon that hung from the dining room ceiling attested to the showiness of old George’s appreciations. One day, Pierce would like to erect another palace to show the British what simple aesthetics true Chinese architecture could bring to one’s sense of peace and order.
Focus on his interests and the heat of the summer sun seeped into his foul mood. He applauded his decision to walk here. After so many days on the steamer, he’d needed a good walk in open air. His head was clear. So too his purpose. Camille could not marry that man. He would forbid it.
Dodging a hack and an omnibus, he crossed from the park to the opposite side of the street. Homes here were especially grand. Most of them were refurbished mansions from the era of that same Prince Regent. The houses toward the south, the shore and the Marine Parade tended to be offices more than domiciles.
Victor had purchased one five years ago and made it into his local establishment for constituents to visit him. A second son of the seventh Duke of Brentwood, he had begun his professional life in trade. But when he suffered from the scandals created by his first wife, he took his family to Shanghai. The escape proved to be a shelter from the storm, but also a very profitable venture for him. He’d specialized in exporting silk and decorative art to Europeans and Americans. Others more avaricious than he had focused on the illegal opium trade, but he had never ventured to that dark commerce. When Victor married Pierce’s younger sister Ada six years ago, he hoped he might remain in Britain and build his business. He and Pierce had come to an agreement whereby Pierce bought rights to Victor’s company and he would go to Shanghai to build the enterprise. Victor also received a portion of Hanniford Enterprises. Bound together in such a way, they mutually benefitted from the other’s success.
What had been profitable as a trading company focused on those goods Victor had favored. Pierce had added more teas and porcelains. Pierce also supervised the Shanghai construction of a few Hanniford steamers. Steel production had increased the company’s profits by forty percent. While that started slowly because of the lack of industrially-minded or scientifically educated Chinese nationals, Pierce sought to remedy that by offering students scholarships to American colleges and stipends to study at American factories. A year abroad for five young Chinese men was beginning to pay dividends in social ways too. The fact that they were from the families of Confucian provincial governors who had an eye to developing commerce in China aided his efforts.
TheManchu Empress, the very ship that Pierce had sailed home in, was the second such steamer built and launched from their Shanghai docks. A beauty five decks high, steel clad, sported running water and electric lighting, marble halls and brass fittings. She had four first class suites accommodating four to eight passengers each. TheEmpresshad gained the admiration of the passengers, a few port officials in Jaffa, as well as the longshoremen who worked the docks where she put in. In Hong Kong, Aden and Southhampton, theEmpresshad made a great splash.
Pierce had not only expanded his father’s shipping business in the Far East but he had also improved Victor’s company. Hundreds of thousands of dollars for both. Soon to be double that for the shipping company, as Pierce had recently secured orders from a major Japanesesamuraihouse in Tokyo to sell them blueprints so that they could construct their own steamship liners.
He strode up the stone steps of Victor’s office and opened the door. Inside, two of his brother-in-law’s assistants sat behind their broad desks. Both shot to their feet.
“Sir!” The young woman, dressed in plain white shirtwaist blouse and long black serge skirt, greeted him. “I am happy to greet you. Lord Victor is in. May I say who is calling?”
“Miss Herndon,” the bald middle-aged man who occupied the next desk looked apologetic. “This is Mister Pierce Hanniford. Lord Victor’s managing partner in Shanghai. Forgive her, sir, Miss Herndon is new with us.”
She was nigh unto apoplectic as she took his gloves and hat. “I am sorry, Mister Hanniford.”
“No harm done, Miss Herndon. I’m pleased to meet you. How have you been, Mister Banfield? You do look well.”
Victor’s assistant always added more to his waistline each time Pierce returned. This was no exception. “Thank you, sir. Chipper, I am.”
“Your wife, too, I do hope?”
“Indeed, sir.”
“Lord Victor wrote me that you are soon to have a new addition to the family.”
Banfield’s very fair skin blushed bright pink. “Oh, yes, sir. Thank you, sir. We expect our new blessing next month.”
“Superb.” Pierce thought a moment. “How many is that then? Five?”
“Six, sir.”
“Remarkable.” If every couple kept on as he saw so many did with a new baby each year, the world would soon be ocean-to-ocean people. If they were all to live well, many would have to build towering apartments and yet leave acres of green spaces to offset the concrete and glass. He himself had long ago known that everyone would need unblemished roads and sturdy sanitation pipes. He’d built them in Shanghai and if he could, he’d build in every city around the world. For that, he’d need trained staff, organization and a great deal of study. It was a different sort of enterprise than what he was used to. The ambition lured him, daunting as it was.
“Come this way, sir.” Banfield led him up the wide marble stairs.
Victor removed his rimless spectacles and stood to greet him, his hand out. “Had some sun, did you?”
“I was in the Lanes and thought I’d walk over. I dropped in to hear Camille entertain her minions with a reading from her latest.” He hoisted his two books. “I bought more.”
“Always a good idea. Please….” He indicated two of four large chairs near the broad bay window overlooking the back walled garden. A cheerful office—the yellow walls lined with shelves and heavy oak cabinets—showed Victor’s devotion to order. Even his desk was clean, save for one large appointment book spread across the four-foot-wide expanse. “Camille does enjoy all that autographing business. Smart thing too. It gets her out of her little hideaway. Brandy? Tea?”
“Tea would be welcome, yes.” He sank into the chair, irritation with that horrid Connor shadowing the sunshine’s restoration of his humor. “Hideaway? What do you mean?”
“She gets an idea and closets herself up for hours at a stretch. Not good for her health although she loves every minute of her seclusion. Now then.” Victor faced his assistant. “Mister Banfield, that full tea we debated, we really do need it.”
