The Shoemaker's Daughter (18 page)

‘Why not?’ Craig moved towards the door. ‘I could down a mug of ale and not notice it passing my tonsils. Come on, let’s get out of here, the place is like a mausoleum.’

‘Then why not rent the place out?’ Edward suggested. ‘You’re doing all right renting the town house out and the proceeds from that are providing a timely and regular infusion of money into the firm.’

‘Renting out the place is probably a good idea,’ Craig said, ‘but I don’t want to take such a drastic step unless I have to.’ He smiled. ‘Emily would never forgive me if I allowed strangers to occupy her precious family home.’

Edward strode out swiftly towards the town. ‘It’s about Emily I have some gossip.’ He glanced at Craig and smiled ruefully. ‘Why can’t you live somewhere civilized like Chapel Street? I only have to fall over and I’m in some tavern or other.’

‘What about Emily?’ Craig asked. He felt sure Edward had very little to gossip about where Emily was concerned, she was a lady to the tip of her fingers and very conscious of being ‘proper’.

Where was all the spirit and fire of the Grenfell blood? It seemed to be entirely missing from Emily’s character.

‘All in good time, my friend,’ Edward said, ‘let’s settle ourselves in the comfort of the Mackworth Hotel with a cooling mug of ale in our hand and I’ll tell you all that I know.’

And that wouldn’t be very much, Craig mused, Emily was nothing if not predictable. Not like the young girl from World’s End. Hari now was another sort of woman entirely, beautiful and somehow very wise, but with a proud and defiant streak in her nature that was compelling. Why had he not taken her to bed while he was under her roof? He must be slipping.

He should not allow the seriousness of his business problems to cloud his judgement too much, his rakishness was what had endeared him to the ladies in his life. Did his failure to seduce Hari Morgan mean he was in danger of becoming completely reformed?

And yet he knew, had always known, that Hari Morgan was too good for a mere casual dalliance. He smiled thoughtfully, perhaps he should get his halo out and dust it up a little.

‘What’s so amusing?’ Edward asked. He had turned into the High Street and was walking slightly uphill in the direction of the hotel, ahead of him was Greenhill and to his right and just out of sight was the curving line of the River Tawe.

‘Mind your own business,’ Craig said pleasantly and Edward returned his smile.

‘A woman, no doubt, when have you ever had anything else on your mind, you hot-blooded ram!’

‘Right, of course,’ Craig said, but he did not enlarge on his statement as he pushed open the door’s of the hotel and narrowed his eyes against the sudden gloom after the bright sunlight in the street.

The Mackworth was a well-established hotel with plush carpeting and a plethora of potted palms brought no doubt from the moderate climate of the English South Coast.

He lifted his hand and a waiter was at his side at once. Craig ordered the ale, settling himself on one of the big comfortable chairs in the coolness of the hotel with a sigh of relief.

Edward leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. ‘You won’t believe this,’ he said eagerly, unable to keep his news to himself any longer, ‘but Emily and the little darling girl from World’s End have set up a shoe shop together at the bottom of Wind Street.’

Craig looked at him in disbelief. ‘Emily and the shoemaker’s daughter, you must be mistaken.’ He smiled ruefully, ‘My cousin is far too much of a snob to actually work with a girl like Hari Morgan.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Emily would not see Hari as we see her, an attractive beddable young woman, remember.’

‘I knew you would be surprised,’ Edward said laughing out loud, leaning back in his chair, enjoying Craig’s reaction. ‘But every word of it is true. Hari has given up the premises in World’s End and Emily has left her lodgings in Chapel Street.’ He paused. ‘I saw your dear cousin move out myself, she was lodging only a few doors away from my own house, if you recall.’

‘What are they doing setting up a shop like that?’ Craig felt slightly irritated. ‘I can’t quite see Emily as a captain of industry somehow.’

‘That seems to be a fault of yours, if you don’t mind me saying so,’ Edward spoke solemnly. ‘You sometimes fail to see what is right under your nose.’ He stared morosely at the mug of ale the waiter put down on the table before him. ‘You didn’t even notice that Hari Morgan was madly in love with you, lucky sod.’

He leaned forward again. ‘The shop looks well appointed, I must say, and it’s only been opened for a short time and already it’s gaining a reputation for the finest footwear in Swansea.

‘It seems the crowd from the theatre in Goat Street was at the opening,’ he continued, ‘some lady singer doing the honours and Charles Briant,
Sir
Charles Briant giving the place his special commendation.’

‘Who on earth is Sir Charles Briant?’ Craig asked. ‘I don’t think I know him, do I?’

‘Apparently not.’ Edward smiled. ‘He’s somewhat eccentric, come over from Bristol way I believe, working at the theatre, though from all the talk, he is extremely rich and needn’t work at all.’

‘Rich, is he? Well, that will please Emily, I dare say,’ Craig said drily.

‘Ah, but it isn’t Emily he is interested in, it’s Hari. The clever girl made some boots that corrected a foot defect or other, earned Sir Charles’s undying gratitude. I should think the ladies’ shop would do well with the benefit of such an illustrious patron.’

Craig admitted to himself that he was more than a little surprised. It didn’t seem at all credible that Emily would have the courage to launch out into the business world and even more doubtful that she would employ the services of the girl she had so openly despised.

‘I didn’t think Hari would agree to work for Emily,’ he said aloud, ‘not after the way the two behaved to each other.’

Edward took a deep drink of ale before replying. ‘They are partners,’ he said. ‘Equal partners.’

‘And how do you know so much?’ Craig asked, amused by Edward’s proprietary manner.

‘Because, my friend, at Hari’s request, I am the accountant acting for the ladies. Who else would they come to? They both have had dealings with me, know me to be honest and hard working, what more can I say?’

‘How about adding how modest you are?’ Craig said smiling. ‘Well, I wish them every success, I am pleasantly surprised at Emily’s courage in not sinking under the strain of her father’s debts.’

He sipped some of his ale. ‘I meant to have helped her with her problems when my own affairs were in good order but now, it seems, my help won’t be needed.’

Edward had a far-away look in his eye. ‘It’s Hari I admire,’ he said warmly. ‘Such a beautiful young girl and such skill and talent. You know that even the French are asking for her designs?’

Craig stared at Edward thoughtfully. ‘She will go far, will that young lady.’

Edward pressed his fingertips together. ‘I would very much like to call on Miss Hari Morgan,’ he said. ‘Oh, I know she is what some might call beneath my station, but I don’t give a fig for that. Look how both you and I have been wrongfully accused of theft, how easily we could have spent the rest of our lives in prison. That experience has given me a finer sense of values, believe me.’

Craig knew what Edward meant, being unkempt and considered less than human as he had languished in a prison cell had certainly given Craig an insight into the way the less affluent lived, an experience he was not likely to forget in a hurry.

‘Wouldn’t it be fine if when you married Emily, we could make it a double wedding with Hari marrying me?’ Edward said slowly. Craig stared at him, wondering why he didn’t find the prospect at all fine.

‘Drink your ale,’ he rose to his feet, ‘I’ve just remembered something important I have to do.’ He put some money on the table and without a backward look left the surprised Edward sitting at the table alone.

Outside in the warmth of the sunshine, Craig found himself striding along High Street in the direction of Wind Street. He had no clear idea of what he intended to do or say but he knew he must see for himself what Emily was up to. Or was it Hari Morgan who aroused in him the most concern? He wasn’t really sure.

The sun was still high overhead, the sky cloudless, it was a bright summer day but Craig didn’t notice, he was deep in thought.

He saw the sign above the elegant shop front while he was still a short distance away. It read, Grenfell and Morgan Footwear Specialists.

Craig noticed the group of ladies in large crinolines gathered outside, bonnets bending and dipping as they talked excitedly. He moved closer and saw that the window was dressed with dark blue velvet upon which rested surprisingly few pairs of boots and shoes.

Satin slippers decorated with buckles and beads stood alongside elegant leather boots as if worn by a couple about to step into a dance. A string of black jet hung over a pair of black stark shoes intended to be worn by a lady in mourning. It was an imaginative display and Hari’s hand could be seen written all over it.

He moved past the ladies into the interior of the shop. The room was long and cool and a few ornate chairs were strategically placed next to stands holding a further variety of boots and shoes. At one end was a sun-lit conservatory where some customers sat at leisure sipping what appeared to be cool drinks.

Craig became aware of the small figure walking towards him and, with a shock of surprise, he recognized Hari Morgan. Her thick hair had been tied up and back with a ribbon and she wore a plain but fashionable dress that emphasized her slim waist and firm breasts.

‘Can I help you, sir?’ she asked and there was a smile in her eyes that made him slightly uneasy. He had the distinct impression that she was laughing at him.

‘I’m just curious,’ he said bluntly. ‘I didn’t think that you would ever work with my cousin, what happened?’

Hari gestured around the room. ‘This happened, Emily and I made it happen.’

‘Very impressive,’ Craig said. ‘I hope you enjoy a great success with it all.’

‘There’s no worries about that,’ Hari said emphatically, ‘we are going to
make
it succeed.’ She paused.

‘Do you want to talk to Emily? If so, I don’t think it’s a good idea, not just now.’

‘I see.’ Craig moved past Hari, his eyes on the stairs that led upwards apparently to the offices. He took them two at a time aware that Hari was quickly following him, her face flushed with indignation.

‘Where do you think you are going?’ she demanded as, hampered by her skirts, she struggled to catch up with him. ‘You’ve no right to push your way into our private quarters.’

Craig moved into a modestly furnished sitting-room and there as he expected was Emily. She rose to her feet and stared at him with angry eyes.

‘How dare you intrude in this way!’ she said with quiet fury. ‘You have no rights here, do you understand?’

‘No rights?’ Craig replied with some amusement. ‘I’m not only your cousin but I am supposed to be your fiancé.’

‘You can forget all that!’ Emily said sarcastically. ‘You are nothing to me except the man who took away my home and my pride and dignity. I am fighting hard to win all that back and I shall do it without any interference from you. Understood?’

Craig looked from Emily’s set face to where Hari stood in the doorway, staring at him with hostility in every line of her taut body.

He shrugged. ‘Very well, if that’s the way you want it to be, fine, I’ll get out of your life and stay out.’ He moved to the door and stared down at Hari. Her eyes were large, her expression suddenly uncertain.

On an impulse, Craig took her in his arms, his mouth crushing hers. She stood unmoving and, after a moment, he released her.

He hurried down the stairs and out into the bright sunshine and walked quickly away without looking back.

Hari sank into a chair, her hand to her lips, hating herself for the desire that had blazed into a fire when Craig had held her in his arms. She knew he didn’t mean the kiss as any sort of caress, it was more a gesture of dismissal, an insult.

Emily paced about the room, her hands clenched into fists. ‘I hate that man!’ she said with feeling. ‘I could cheerfully take a gun and shoot him.’ But her face was suddenly pale, her eyes brimming with tears.

Hari bit her lip. ‘I don’t think you should talk like that about him,’ she said defensively, ‘I felt just a bit sorry for Craig, I’m sure he came here to make amends.’

‘Oh and you know all about him, do you?’ Emily rounded on her. ‘Perhaps you know more than you are willing to admit. That was a pretty intimate kiss just now.’

Hari rose to her feet. ‘It was not! It was just Craig getting his own back, it didn’t mean anything.’

‘Well, in that case why did you not slap his face?’ Emily said hotly. ‘That’s what any lady would have done.’

‘So you are reminding me that I’m not a lady, are you?’ Hari said in a low voice. ‘Well, I’ve never pretended to be anything I’m not, it was your idea that I put on these posh clothes and tie back my hair and go and talk nicely to the customers.’ She moved to the door.

‘Well, I won’t do it any more, it’s not what we agreed, I want to make designs, supervise the workshop, I don’t want to prance about acting saleslady to a lot of snobbish women who only look down their noses at me. You can do all that in future.’

‘I can’t serve in a shop!’ Emily was outraged. ‘I’ve never done anything like that in my life before.’

‘Well, it’s time you started then, isn’t it?’ Hari said quickly. ‘I am not your paid help, mind, I’m your partner and so far you haven’t pulled your weight, Emily Grenfell.’

‘What do you mean?’ Emily said. ‘I do the books, don’t I? I contact suppliers, I . . . I . . .’ She lapsed into silence.

‘Aye and what do I do, make the designs, direct the boys in the cutting and sewing, spend hours decorating the slippers with beads and such
and
I’m expected to serve in the shop, well, it’s too much and I’ve had enough of it!’