Chapter 8
Due to his position, Jacob never uses his crested carriages on his errands.
Not that he cares what the ton would say when they see a wealthy duke in trade. However, the less they know about his businesses, the better.
His brother draws up beside him, followed closely by Captain Knox.
They arrive the carriage and Jacob pulls out the ship’s manifest from underneath the seats, where he safely hid them.
Jacob’s eyes flick to the name on the head of the sheets and an ache cuts through him. His chest constricts from the guilt he still carries within him at not reconciling with his elder brother, Jonathan.
The name of the company when he first started, wasn’t always ‘The Three Brothers.’ He initially named it ‘The Count,’ in honor of his maternal grandfather.
Sadly, two years after the unfortunate death of Jonathan at the 1815 battle of Waterloo, Joseph suggested a name change. One in honor of their once strong bond as brothers.
A bond broken by pride and death.
Jacob’s pride. Jonathan’s death.
Jacob hadn't argued against renaming the business. He had instantly agreed to the suggestion. Anything to ensure that he alleviated the guilt that swamped him.
“These here Ya Grace, are the list of cargo we be bringing from the East.” Captain Knox shifts Jacob’s attention back to the present with his voice.
Jacob distractedly watches the sheaves of paper. His mind barely registering anything.
He never wanted to hold out on the betrayal he endured from his brother and Maryann for as long as he had. Somehow, he had allowed it linger, not because he couldn’t have picked up a quill and paper to respond to his brother’s letters, while Jonathan had been on the battlefield.
Because Jonathan had even gone further to reach out to him from the war front.
His letters always unopened in Jacob’s drawers.
However, Jacob somehow perceived that there was still time for them to reconcile.
Enough time to hold out some more on his anger.
If only he knew then that Jonathan’s last letter to him dated in April 30th of 1815 was to be his last.
Perhaps he would have told Jonathan how much he missed their bond.
How much he meant to him.
Forcing his mind to shift from the melancholy that suddenly engulfs him, Jacob raises his eyes from the papers and finds his eyes fall on the most beautiful pair of eyes he has ever seen.
A beautiful girl, dressed in plain travel clothes, her eyes levelled on Jacob, watches him from across the pier.
It seems she just stepped down the gang plank of a big vessel. Her grey and white garb, accompanied by a white travel bonnet, is really ordinary, yet the look doesn’t undermine her beauty.
Slender, her waist small, perhaps because of her stays, Jacob can’t say. Her bosom, admirable, Jacob can’t help but stare.
He finds it amusing that she equally maintains eye contact. Then someone nudges her arm and she shifts her gaze to the person, who surprisingly is awfully familiar.
“Mrs Fletcher?” Jacob audibly mutters as the face of the familiar person turns out to be their mother’s dressmaker.
Joseph turns his eyes in the direction of Jacob’s gaze.
“What is she doing here?” Joseph manages to ask, his shock evident as he gazes ahead.
Captain Knox follows their gaze and replies.
“Oh that there is the Remittance. I know the Captain of the vessel.” Captain Knox unconsciously remarks, his eyes returning to the papers before them.
“I wasn’t speaking about the vessel, Knox. I was speaking of our mother’s…Never mind.” Jacob dismisses.
Momentarily questioning the reason, he's bothering to explain himself to the captain.
Turning to his brother, he whispers.
“See things through with Knox, while I go
find out what Mrs Fletcher is doing here.”
Not waiting for his brother’s response, he hands the papers to Joseph and walks on ahead, until he stands before Mrs Fletcher and the stranger.
“Your Grace!” Mrs Fletcher startles, falling into a brisk curtsy as Jacob towers before them.
The girl equally falls into a curtsy.
“Mrs Fletcher.” Jacob nods his head briefly.
His eyes turning fleetingly to the beautiful girl by Mrs Fletcher’s side before returning them again.
“What brings you here?” Jacob asks, forcing himself from taking another look at the beautiful girl.
“Oh, I have been away Your Grace. I went to see my sister in the Americas four months ago and just returned.” Mrs Fletcher declares.
Jacob’s mind immediately flashes to the numerous times he's heard his mother whine over the absence of Katie Fletcher, her dressmaker.
And he ignored his mother most of the time. Seeing her nagging as a constant reminder of her advancing age.
Forcing down his displeasure at his inattention towards his mother’s discomfort those mornings at breakfast, Jacob smiles at Mrs Fletcher.
“I recall my mother’s complaints about your absence. I am sure she would be greatly pleased for your return.” Jacob announces, a grin tugging the corner of his lips.
His gaze turning to the young girl, he asks, “And who might this young Miss be?”
He places his most charming smile.
Just then, his brother comes to stand beside him.
“Mrs Fletcher. What a surprise to see you here!” Joseph greets warmly, his eyes falling upon the girl.
“Lord Wilson.” Mrs Fletcher greets in a curtsy.
Then proceeding with the introductions, she says,
“This is my sister’s friend, Miss Therese Antonio. She has come here to work with me as my helper.”
Therese Antonio stares at the men before her.
Her eyes lingering on the man, who Mrs Fletcher had just addressed as ‘Your Grace’.
Certainly the Duke Mrs Fletcher countlessly spoke to her about on their voyage. Both men, she observes, hold a semblance to each other. But she isn’t one to conclude and silently watches the scene before her.
The two men are completely handsome, their blue eyes, very arresting. Their build and heights, very captivating, reminding her of heroes she has read about in her Greek Novels. Apollos and Hercules.
But it is the Duke that catches her gaze the most.
His features, mature and eye-catching, with his broad shoulders. His hair, a shock of short, wavy brown locks, placed on a body of fair skin; the shade of pale alabaster.