Page 24 of The Pursuit of Lord Kit Cavanaugh

“Too many cooks, otherwise,” Mulligan had said.

After two hours’ hard work, Wayland paused, then looked at Mulligan. “Why not put these racks on wheels? Then we can move them around the hulls. I’d hope to have at least two hulls in progress at any given time, and it’s likely we’ll have another being polished off.” Wayland waved around them. “We’ve space enough for three.”

Mulligan slowly nodded. “That’s not a bad idea.”

They worked out the logistics, then Kit and Wayland left to purchase two sets of large iron wheels, four wheels for each rack.

As they rolled the heavy wheels, lashed together, back to the warehouse, Wayland said, “I can barely believe we’ve actually made a start—that we’ve managed to get this far this fast and all relatively smoothly.”

“Don’t jinx us,” Kit replied. “But yes—it’s…” He realized he was lost for words to describe the effervescent enthusiasm coursing his veins.

“Uplifting,” Wayland supplied. “I feel positively giddy.”

Kit laughed. They reached the cobbled lane along the Grove and had to slow, wrestling the wheels along.

While laughing with Wayland at their efforts to keep the wheels heading more or less in the right direction, Kit was struck by how simply happy he was.

Their enterprise was progressing step by steady step, and everything was, thus far, going well. There’d been nothing about the day that he would choose to change.

His mind slid sideways to whether Sylvia and the school were also having a good day—their first in their new premises.

Her intention in storming into his office on Wednesday morning hadn’t been to assist him in getting to where he now was, yet in reality, her tempestuous arrival had been a critical juncture in the evolution of Cavanaugh Yachts.

Wayland and Mulligan had been enthused by the quality of men turning up at the workshop door, largely sent their way by connections associated with the school.

“I hadn’t realized we had so many men who’d worked on the old ships still here,” Mulligan had said. “I’d thought a lot had moved on, but seems they’ve just been waiting and hoping.”

They were close to having a full roster of men—all experienced hands.

Kit couldn’t help but think that, despite her former prickliness and regardless of her intentions in storming into his office, Sylvia Buckleberry had contributed significantly to easing the path for Cavanaugh Yachts.

CHAPTER 5

At noon on Friday, Sylvia set out to call at the school, ostensibly to check on the state of supplies, but in reality, to see how everything was going and to reassure herself that everyone was settling into their new home.

She felt a happy thrill on setting eyes on the hall—solid and respectable, a much better place for the school, for teaching the boys that, with education and application, they, too, could aspire to inhabit such an area.

She opened the door and stepped inside to find lunchtime in progress—the boys seated cross-legged on the floor, munching whatever they’d brought from home and on the apples the school, through the good offices of Miss Meggs, provided. The boys were listening to Cross, who was perched on a stool and reading aloud from a boys’ adventure novel.

All heads turned her way, and happy smiles spread across every face.

Closing the door behind her, Sylvia smiled back. It was transparently clear that the members of her small school community were reveling in their new surrounds.

She crossed to where Miss Meggs sat behind one of the unused desks. Sylvia caught the assistant’s eye. “All in order?”

“Indeed, Miss Buckleberry.” Miss Meggs’s smile said it all. “We’re all so much more comfortable here.” She nodded toward the boys, who had returned their attention to Cross. “They’ve settled right in and have been behaving themselves and, I would say, paying even greater attention to their lessons. Mr. Jellicoe, Mr. Cross, and I were saying just before that the change of venue seems to have convinced them that what they learn could truly make a difference.”

Sylvia nodded. “One of those intangible effects, but all to the good.”

“Indeed.”

The door at the rear of the hall opened, and Jellicoe came in. He saw Sylvia, nodded and smiled in greeting, then strolled around the hall to join her.

Sylvia turned to Miss Meggs. “Do you need any further supplies?”

“Actually, yes.” The assistant started hunting through the papers on her desk. “I’ve been making a list… Ah, here it is.” She handed Sylvia a note with several items listed. “Just some chalks and more ink.”

Sylvia took the list, scanned it, then tucked it into her reticule. “I’ll probably call in on Monday—I’ll bring them then.”