Page 20 of The Fortunes of Ashmore Castle

He had tried to make it into a little joke, but Mr Cowling nodded without smiling. Angus felt uncomfortably that his eyes saw everything. He was sure he had noticed that little stumble over ‘our ships’.

But the conversation moved on, people changed seats, and some time later Angus found himself standing by the fireplace with Richard, who said, ‘How are things going with you? Have you found yourself a position yet?’

‘I’ve been looking,’ Angus said. ‘There are jobs I could have taken – general clerk, shop assistant, that sort of thing – but they wouldn’t have paid enough for me to marry on. I’m not trained in anything specific, you see, like the law or engineering. I can keep accounts and I know my father’s business inside out, but how to apply it elsewhere is the problem.’

‘How to convince others you can apply it elsewhere, rather,’ Richard said. ‘I wonder if—’

He broke off as he realised that Mr Cowling had come up and was standing just beside him. Cowling nodded to him in a friendly manner. ‘Now, I know something is going on,’ he said. ‘Heads together, lowered voices. Is this young man in trouble?’

Richard said, ‘Not in trouble exactly, sir, but he needs a job. He needs someone to recognise his considerable abilities and take a chance on him.’

Angus was mortified. ‘Oh, I say, Richard—’

Cowling made a negating gesture with his hand. ‘Good employees are just as much a raw material to a business as coal and steel – and harder to find. Know much about import and export, lad? Bills of lading? Bonded warehouses?’ Angus nodded to each. ‘Come and see me tomorrow. Maybe I can help you.’ He looked around. ‘Attend to the ladies, now, young gentlemen. Lady Manningtree won’t thank us for spoiling her tea-party.’

A sudden sleety squall sent two young women scurrying down Old Burlington Street, like blown leaves, huddling, arms linked, under one umbrella, hastening to gain the shelter of the house. The sleet gathered in balls in the gutter and bounced up from the pavement. Their hems and stockings were splashed and dirty.

When Alice had gone to be shown around in advance of starting at the Blackwood School, she had been met in the entrance hall by a tall young woman with a large-featured, handsome face, and a mass of curly dark hair as harsh as a pony’s mane. Her eyes were dark brown like a pony’s, too, and since Alice loved horses, she was instantly prepared to like her.

‘Miss Tallant? I’m Miss Strachan. Mrs Brightwell asked me to show you everything.’ She grinned infectiously. ‘I’ve only just learned my own way around so I suppose she thinks it’ll be fresh in my mind.’

‘Are you a new girl?’ Alice asked.

‘Yes, I came last week. New to London, too – but I’m told you live here?’

‘I’m staying with my aunt in Berkeley Square, but I really live down in the country, in Buckinghamshire.’

‘Shropshire, me. I’m staying with friends of my parents. London quite took my breath away for the first few days. I’m so glad you’re a country girl. All the others seem to be Town bred, and look down their noses if you’re not, but they wouldn’t last long where I come from.’

‘My aunt had a maid once who didn’t know that milk came from cows,’ Alice said. ‘She was so horrified when I told her, she wouldn’t serve drawing-room tea if it meant she had to touch a milk jug.’

‘What happened to her?’

‘She left to work in a haberdasher’s. My aunt was quite cross with me because otherwise she was a good maid.’

The tall young woman surveyed Alice with satisfaction. ‘D’you know, Miss Tallant, I think we’re going to be friends.’

‘Oh, please, won’t you call me Alice?’ She had decided with Richard that she would not mention being Lady Alice in case it set her apart from the other girls.

‘And you must call me Bron,’ said Miss Strachan.

‘Bron?’

‘It’s short for Bronte. My mother insisted on naming me Emily Bronte Strachan. I didn’t like the name Emily, so I’ve always used the Bronte part. Wuthering Heights is Ma’s favourite book. If I’d been a boy she was going to call me Heathcliff, so I suppose I came off lightly. Do you have any brothers and sisters?’

‘Two of each, all older than me. What about you?’

‘Two step-brothers, much younger. My pa died when I was little and my mother remarried.’

‘My papa died too, three years ago. My mother married again and lives abroad now.’

‘How amazing! We have so much in common.’

There was only one important question left for Alice to ask. ‘Do you like horses? Do you ride?’

‘Never out of the saddle at home. I do miss my darling Bayard.’

‘I miss Pharaoh.’