Page 25 of About a Rogue
“No.” She gave a huff of astonished laughter. “Why would I?”
He smiled, his dark eyes fixed on her. “Why would you not?” Her smile faded at his pointed tone. “Perusia potteries are important to you, are they not?”
“Of course!”
“Then you ought to know what your contracts say.”
“I do, mostly—”
He cocked one brow. “And do youmostlymake your wares high quality?”
She flushed. “Read them all, if you please. They’re already signed, though, and Papa won’t break his word. Those men are his friends as well as his partners.”
He smiled again. Damn the dimple, carving his cheek. “I never said he should break his word. Nothing I’ve seen is too dreadful.”
“Then why bother?” Bianca drank the last of her chocolate. “Are you well-versed in shipping contracts? I can’t imagine so.”
“I read law for a year,” he answered, to her immense surprise. “Not well-versed, but not ignorant.”
“Then you’re a solicitor?”
Finally his eyes dropped. He folded the spectacles into his waistcoat pocket. “No.”
Bianca wondered, but he said no more and she refused to show any interest in anything about him. The horn blew in the distance, and she plucked a roll from the basket on the table. “I wish you a pleasant day reading contracts,” she said, rising from the table and heading for the door. She said it to twit him; he would sit up here in the house reading while she did something actually important to the factory.
To her astonishment he also rose, gathering his papers with one hand as he drained his coffee cup with a flick of his wrist. “Shall we walk together?” He gave her another of his wicked smiles.
“There’s no need for you to go to the factory,” she said, but he was at the door, waiting for her with his arm offered.
She did not take it. Out the door she went, tucking the roll into her pocket for later. St. James followed without a word.
Chapter Nine
Around the hill and down the slope they went, in perfect silence. The sun was in the trees now, just barely, and the morning dew wet her skirts and petticoat as she walked. Bianca made a mental promise to ask Papa to widen this path, to spare her arriving damp to her knees.
As always, when Bianca came over the crest of the ridge and saw Perusia laid out before her, pride and happiness swelled in her chest. It was no palace or ducal manor, and wouldn’t impress anyone expecting such grandeur. Instead it was an industrious little village, with the factory buildings bustling with workmen, the canal sparkling in the rising sun just beyond, dotted with bargemen delivering coal and readying other barges to receive crates of Perusia wares.
The courtyards of the factory were alive with activity as well, workers driving wheelbarrows of unfired pieces to the kilns, to the glazing and paint workshops, to the drying room. A thin trickle of people still hurried through the spinney of birch trees from the workers’ cottages and boarding rooms. Everything was neat, well kept, and prosperous, overseen from the top of the hill by Perusia Hall.
She must have made some sigh of contentment, for St. James stepped up beside her. “Are you tired from the walk?”
Bianca scoffed. “That little stroll! Of course not. Ifyouare,” she hastened to add, “pray stop in at Perusia Hall for a while. Mrs. Hickson, the housekeeper, will see to your comfort.”
His mouth curved. “I shall bear it in mind.” And he stayed at her side as she strode down the hill.
At the gate to the factory, Bianca turned right, toward her workshop. It was in the southern arm, where the light was best, near the glazers and painters. To her surprise, St. James came with her.
“Papa’s office is that way,” she said, indicating the entrance to the central block. Papa liked to be in the middle of everything, and from there he could look down into the main workshop, where the pieces were made.
“I know,” was his calm reply.
Bianca stopped. “That is where you should go, sir. To the office, to read your contracts and discuss business with my father.”
“We did that yesterday,” he said. “I would like to see the rest of the factory. Would you guide me on a tour?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I haven’t time for that. If you enter there, you’ll find Ned’s office. Ned oversees the factory and will gladly show you around.” Her cousin would roll his eyes at being sent on such a tedious chore when he had other, more important things to do, but Bianca sacrificed him without hesitation.
“Yes, he’s a capital fellow, but I would hate to tear him away from his duties first thing in the morning.” Squinting up at the offices, St. James suddenly smiled and made a small bow. Bianca looked up to see her father looking down at them. Papa lifted one hand, and she turned her back. She had not yet forgiven him for the scene in the sacristy.
