The Captain's Kidnapped Beauty. Mary Nichols

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ have been running about these workshops ever since I learned to walk and I also keep the books, so you can trust me to know what I am about. Tell me about the journey you wish to make. How far? Are you in some haste? What will the roads be like, smooth or rough? Do you go alone or will you have passengers and much luggage?’

      ‘You need to know a great deal considering all I came to do is hire a coach to take me to Norfolk.’

      ‘Ah, that has answered one of my questions,’ she said with a smile meant to disarm him, which it very nearly did. ‘And probably a second. I believe the roads to that part of the country are devilishly bad.’

      ‘Touché.’ He returned her smile with one of his own. It softened his features and she realised suddenly that the lines on his face had not all been made by wind and weather, some were laughter lines. The erratic heartbeats began all over again. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

      ‘Do you need a large conveyance for passengers and luggage, which will be slower, or something lighter to carry you swiftly?’

      ‘I might have a passenger for part of the way,’ he said. ‘And little luggage, but as you so rightly pointed out, the roads to Norfolk, once away from the capital, are dreadful, so the vehicle will need to be sturdy enough to withstand the jolting if we are to travel at speed.’

      ‘And do you intend to make just one journey or will you be coming backwards and forwards to the capital?’

      ‘Does it matter?’

      ‘If you hire a coach, you will need to return it by the arranged time and hiring over a long period will be more costly than buying an equipage. We have several second-hand coaches for sale, which I can show you or, if you are not in a hurry, we can construct one to your own specification. We can also supply you with horses.’

      ‘Do not tell me you are an expert on horseflesh as well,’ he said, laughing.

      ‘I know a good horse when I see one.’

      ‘And no doubt you are a bruising rider, to boot.’

      She let that pass without comment. ‘There is a very good chaise in the yard, taken in part exchange for a newer model, which might very well suit you. Shall you take a look?’

      ‘Yes, I might as well see what you have to offer while we are waiting for Mr Gilpin to join us.’

      She was annoyed by his attitude, but it was not the first time and she did not suppose it would be the last when customers treated her with condescension as if she were just out of the schoolroom and needed humouring. She was twenty-two years old; many ladies of her acquaintance had been married for years at that age and already had a brood of children. It was the only thing she regretted about her single state, she could not be a mother.

      She conducted him outside, crossed the yard which had standing for a least a dozen coaches, and into another building, a vast barn-like area which contained a host of vehicles: town coaches, travelling coaches, phaetons, landaus and landaulets, gigs and tilburys. There was even a magnificent berline. Some were plain, some highly decorated, but all bore the hallmark of the Gilpin works, meticulously finished and polished.

      ‘This chaise is a sturdy vehicle,’ she said, indicating a travelling coach in forest green, its only decoration lines of pale green about the body work and round the rims of the wheels. It was highly varnished, elegant but not ostentatious.

      He walked all round it, rocked it on its springs, jumped on the coachman’s box with its red-and-green-striped hammercloth and sat there for a few moments before jumping down and climbing inside. The interior was upholstered in green velvet and there were light green curtains at the windows. He sat a moment and stretched out his legs. There was little leg room for one so tall, but that was not unexpected; he had yet to ride in a coach which allowed him the luxury of stretching out.

      Charlotte watched him without speaking. He was undoubtedly athletic, climbing up and down with consummate ease, and the way he had climbed on the box suggested he was no stranger to driving a coach. He was self-assured and would not be easy to gull. Not that she intended to deceive him; that was not the way Gilpins did business. Their reputation for honesty and fine workmanship had been well earned over the years and she would do nothing to jeopardise it.

      He emerged from the coach and rejoined her. ‘I think it will do me very well,’ he said.

      ‘Would you like to look at others before you make up your mind?’

      He agreed and she showed him several more, some more sumptuous, others well used with scuffed paint which she told him would be remedied before the coaches were sold on. Some were extra large and cumbersome, needing at least six horses to pull them, some too lightweight for any but town roads.

      ‘No,’ he said, at last. ‘You have chosen well, Miss Gilpin. I will negotiate a price with Mr Gilpin.’

      ‘The price to buy is one hundred and nineteen pounds sixteen shillings,’ she said firmly. ‘We give value for money, Captain, and do not enter into negotiation. If that is too much …?’ Her voice faded on a question.

      ‘No, I did not mean I would beat him down,’ he said hastily. ‘The price seems fair enough. I meant that I would need to arrange for horses and harness and for the coach to be fetched.’

      ‘Let us return to the office and conclude the transaction,’ she said. ‘The doctor will have gone by now.’

      They crossed the yard again and entered the main workshop where several men were using ropes to lower a coach body down the stairs. Joe, supporting himself on two sticks, was standing directing operations.

      ‘What did the doctor say?’ Charlotte asked him.

      ‘’Tis but a sprain,’ he answered. ‘I must rest it for a week or two and then all will be well.’

      ‘You will not rest it by standing there. The men can manage without you for a week. Ask Giles to take you home in the gig, and do not come back until you are recovered. You will lose no pay.’

      ‘Yes, Miss Charlotte. Thank you, miss.’

      Charlotte moved on, followed by Alex. ‘Do the men usually obey you so promptly, Miss Gilpin?’ he queried. He had noticed the adoring look in Joe’s eyes as he answered her. The poor fellow was evidently in love with his employer’s daughter. He wondered if she knew it.

      ‘Yes, why not? One day the business will be mine and I will have the full running of it, but please God, not for a very long time.’

      ‘Really?’ he queried in surprise. ‘I had thought a brother or a husband would take over.’

      ‘I have neither brother nor husband.’ She was used to people making assumptions like that, but it never failed to raise her hackles and she spoke sharply.

      ‘I beg your pardon,’ he said. ‘I can see you are a very determined woman.’

      A woman, she noted, not a lady. There was a world of difference in the use of the words and reminded her of her conversations with her father on the subject. It simply stiffened her resolve to prove she was as good as any man when it came to business. It was far more important than being a so-called lady. Or a wife, come to that.

      They entered the office where her father was standing looking out of СКАЧАТЬ