Page 17 of Mending the Baron's Sins
“How are Aisling and Imogen?” Orla asked, trying to change the subject as she went with her mother to the back of the shop. Tea was quickly produced, and Sarah poured out three cups for themto share. “I thought Imogen would be here.” She looked around the shop, knowing that Imogen still helped out in the shop.
“She has gone to buy us some new material for more hats,” her father explained, jerking his hand toward the empty stands.
“And Aisling?”
“She is with her husband and children on the farm,” Sarah explained. “She is happy, dearest.” She reached forward and patted Orla’s hand. “Perhaps you should consider marriage after all. I do not like to see you unhappy.”
“I do not remember saying I was unhappy.”
“Tell your lack of smile that,” Joseph said, a glimmer of his old wit coming through, though he looked away quickly. His concerned gaze scanned the empty cobbles in the street.
“Still no business?” Orla asked with worry.
“Not since Gladstone opened that hat shop of his up the road.” Joseph sighed and sat down in a chair, apparently giving up hope for any customers at all.
Gladstone…
Orla realized now she knew this man. Walter Gladstone was the very man who had come out from arguing with Baron De Rees on that first day. He was the same man who had sat calmly with the baron in the library just the day before.
He is the man putting my parents out of business.
“I suppose they used the material from the cotton mills and textile factories,Gladstone and Coates?”
“That’s right.” Joseph nodded, staring down into his teacup morosely.
“And Thomas? How is he?” she asked with concern, now reaching for the crux of the conversation she wished to have. “What does he think of the factories?”
“He likes them well enough,” Sarah said unconvincingly.
“No man can truly like them.” Joseph sat back in his chair, looking around. “If we had the business, I’d rather him here working with us. As it is, I think he makes more money than us at the moment.”
Orla grimaced, looking at the emptiness. She knew they were talking about livelihoods now. If she urged them to find Thomasa new position, it could mean the family losing a source of income they truly needed.
It’s why I must continue with this position at Baron De Rees’ house. Maybe then I can start sending some money home.
“I have heard talk that the factories are not healthy,” she began slowly, worried about what her parents would say.
“Is this the opinion of a healer’s trade?” Sarah asked scornfully. She put down her teacup and hurried around the shop, adjusting the various hats they had, which were still in fine positions and needed no such fussing.
“Ma, I know what I am talking about,” Orla insisted. “I know you have no liking for what I do, but please trust me in that I have a little knowledge. I have heard concerns that there are chemicals in these factories that are not healthy. Perhaps, if another position comes up, Thomas should consider it.”
“And you know what is right for this family, do you?” Sarah’s voice was suddenly sharp.
Orla’s objections died on her tongue. This was always the way with her mother. She was fire one minute and full of warmth and kindness. The next minute, she was ice and full of high expectations that Orla did not want to live up to.
“If you cared about doing what was right, you would be married by now,” Sarah said dismissively, fussing with the hats once again. “You would be comfortable, and we would not have another mouth to feed under this roof.”
“I am not here to feed anymore, regardless,” Orla reminded her.
Sarah parted her lips, her cheeks turning purple, ready to argue again, when Joseph suddenly stood up.
“Perhaps we should leave this discussion here.” Joseph moved toward Orla’s side and lowered his voice. “I will remember what you have said,” he whispered to her. “But I am afraid that Thomas does not have much choice.”
“If a position comes up–”
“Then I will urge him to change, I will,” Joseph promised with a small smile. “I give you my word on that.”
“Thank you.” Orla sighed with some relief, though her eyes now followed Sarah with fear around the room. Sarah’s fussing with the hats was growing worse now. She kept adjusting things she had already touched.
