Daughter of the Loom (Bells of Lowell Book #1) (14 page)

The bishop gave a hearty laugh. “I always enjoy a good sparring event with you, Mr. Boott. Now, let’s get to the heart of the matter. We both know the Irish are beginning to form settlements in Lowell, and we both know they get out of control from time to time. What is it you want from me?”

“Short term, I’d like to have you assign a priest to serve the Catholics. Long term, I’d like to see you build a Catholic church that would serve to unify the Irish who settle in Lowell.”

The bishop once again stroked his flushed cheek. “To a man unfamiliar with you and the goals of the Boston Associates, that would appear to be a plan cultivated to fulfill the needs of your fellow citizens. However, we both know that this proposal is made more for your benefit than that of the Irish people of Lowell, and I’m sure you also know I have a shortage of priests. Simply put, I don’t have a priest I can send to Lowell, much less the funds to purchase land and build a church.”

Matthew watched the unfolding scene. It was a methodical exchange, a game of chess played with words rather than pawns and kings. Both men retained their composure. It was Kirk’s move, and Bishop Fenwick waited patiently.

“Would additional funding assist you in securing another cleric for the diocese?” Kirk ventured.

“Perhaps. But I would need to present a long-term plan, something of substance, to my superiors if I were going to assign a priest to Lowell. After all, we have a more urgent need for priests in larger cities.”

Kirk nodded, acknowledging it was his move. Matthew was enjoying the discourse. It was obvious his employer would need to raise the stakes if they were going to make any progress.

“There is a piece of land, large enough for a good-sized church. It lies directly between the two Irish settlements. Possibly it could draw them together, become a source of unity. I think I could convince the Associates to sell it at a very reasonable price, perhaps even donate it to the church. I feel certain your parishioners would be more than willing to donate their labor once you’ve enough funds to begin building.”

Bishop Fenwick’s lips turned upward, and he rubbed his large hands together. “I believe I could take this information to my superiors with the expectation of a satisfactory result for all concerned. Why don’t you write a figure on this piece of paper that we could expect to receive if another priest were assigned to the diocese? Oh, yes, and why don’t you jot down the address of the property you’re going to assign to the church. It would make my discussion with the church more, shall be say,
profitable
to all concerned.”

Kirk accepted the outstretched pen and dipped it into the ink before writing the requested information and returning the pen. The bishop slid the paper back across the desk and placed a pair of spectacles across the bridge of his nose before reading the inscribed words. After reading, Bishop Fenwick nodded his head, rose from his chair, and extended his hand to Kirk.

“I’ll be in touch with you once I have something definite to pass along.”

“Always a pleasure visiting with you, Your Excellency,” Kirk responded.

“If not a pleasure, at least profitable,” Bishop Fenwick replied as he rose from his chair to dismiss them.

The same priest who had earlier admitted them now escorted the two men down the maze of hallways and out the front doors. There was a note of finality to their visit as the cleric pushed the heavy doors closed behind them.

“The meeting went well, don’t you think?” Boott inquired as the two of them stood waiting in the lobby of the Brackman Hotel a short time later. “Hope you don’t mind mixing a bit of pleasure with our business,” he continued, without waiting for an answer to his first question.

“No, of course not,” Matthew replied. “I thought the meeting—”

“Ah, here they are now,” Kirk interrupted as he walked off toward the two women entering the front door.

Matthew watched the exchange from a distance. Both ladies had the same aquiline nose, wide-set eyes, and broad shoulders of their male relative. Unfortunately, the features that created a rather striking appearance in Kirk Boott failed to have the same effect on the female members of the Boott family.

“This is the young man I’ve been telling you about,” Kirk announced as he pulled Matthew forward. “Matthew, this is my sister, Neva Locklear. And this,” he said, wrapping his arm around the younger woman, “is my lovely niece, Isabelle. I know you’ll find it difficult to believe, but she’s every bit as bright as she is comely.”

Matthew felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He had assumed they would dine with some of the Boston Associates for supper. What was it that Kirk had said as they’d followed the priest down the hallway? Something to the effect that he had made reservations for supper and hoped the evening’s discourse would prove as fruitful as their meeting with Bishop Fenwick. Yes, those were his words. There had been nothing about dining with his relatives. Matthew silently chided himself. While he had been looking forward to supper and a lively discussion with the Associates, Boott had been anticipating a reunion with his sister and niece. A liaison that, for some unknown reason, caused a prickling sensation to course down his spine.

“I hope you don’t mind, Matthew, but I took the liberty of posting a letter to my sister setting forth all of your many virtues. He’s everything I promised, isn’t he, Neva?”

Matthew watched the shrewd glance that passed between Kirk and Neva. This was more than meaningless chitchat. No matter that Boott was lively and engaging, that he appeared the carefree host entertaining guests for the evening; there was purpose to every word being uttered.

“He is absolutely delightful. Don’t you agree, Isabelle?” Neva inquired, placing her hand atop Isabelle’s unadorned left hand.

Eyes cast downward, Isabelle nodded her head in agreement.

“Speak up, Isabelle. We can’t hear you with your head down,” Neva persisted.

“Yes, he is everything you promised, Uncle Kirk.”

Matthew’s head jerked up and he looked at his employer. Boott’s comment several days earlier echoed in his mind.
“A wife must be chosen with no less intelligence and cunning than one chooses a lawyer or business partner.”
Was this then the intelligent, cunning choice that Boott had in mind for him?

****

“Look at this,” Nadene said, jabbing Lilly with her elbow. “The book of John has Jesus saying, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.’” She pointed to the verse in the fourteenth chapter. “Then look here,” she added, “My granny has written a note that says, ‘God will make thee provision. He will make a way even when it seems impossible.’” She turned and looked at Lilly. “Jesus said that He’s the way. Do you suppose that’s what my granny was talking about?”

Lilly was chilled and wanted only to slip under the covers and go to sleep. The sole reason the candles were still burning was the fact that Pru and Sarah had taken a last-minute trip to the necessary. “I suppose it could mean that,” Lilly finally answered. “Although the Bible is full of examples where God used people to fulfill His plan.” She thought of her own mission. Surely God had put her plans in motion as surely as He had sent Jonah to warn the people of Nineveh.

Lilly wanted only to change the subject and scooted down in the covers. “Did your grandmother always write notes about Bible verses?”

“Oh my, yes.” Nadene replied. “It’s one of the reasons I cherish this Bible so much. It was the one thing Granny left me when she died. Just look here. Sometimes she wrote her thoughts alongside the verse—right on the same page. A great many times, however, she wrote on a scrap of paper and just stuck it in between the pages. When I need to understand a particular passage, I often find Granny’s words help.”

Nadene closed the Bible and put it aside. She blew out the candle and then settled back on her pillow. Only the candle from Pru’s bedside still shone. The other girls seemed to have fallen asleep, mindless of Lilly and Nadene’s discussion.

“I take my Bible with me to the mill,” Nadene told Lilly in confidence. “I like to pull it out and read it when I have a moment.”

“I’ve heard some of the other girls say they tape up bits and pieces of articles and books. Seems a shame to tear something apart just in order to read while you work.”

Nadene sighed. “I could never tear up Granny’s Bible, though I’ve seen some girls do just that. I suppose it gives them comfort in the midst of their trials, so I cannot fault them.”

Lilly knew it had been some time since she’d concerned herself with reading the Bible. Even the small portion shared by Nadene pierced her heart and conscience.
I am the way
, Jesus had said. Lilly had heard that verse even as a child. It was a convicting statement—one on which she didn’t want to dwell at the moment.

I know God has brought me here with a special purpose
, Lilly reasoned. The turmoil in her heart churned while her mind mocked her for the traitor she was. How could she be certain of anything God wanted? She wasn’t exactly listening to Him these days.

Chapter 10

Lowell, Massachusetts

Lilly’s trembling fingers fumbled with the strings of her bonnet. More than anything, she wanted to awaken to discover that this was nothing more than a bad dream. She wanted to be back in her cozy room at the farm, where she could smell the scent of burning wood in the fireplace and feel the coolness of an autumn morning on her windowpane. Rather than join the ranks as an anonymous mill girl rushing off in the early morning darkness to toil in the Appleton, she wanted to escape to the peaceful countryside of East Chelmsford—even more, she wanted her identity back.

“You’re going to do fine today. There’s no doubt that once you’ve mastered your tasks in the spinning room, the overseer is going to wonder how the mill operated without you,” Addie encouraged.

“I wish I shared your confidence,” Lilly replied, still groping with her bonnet strings.

“You’ll be back here in no time, eating your breakfast and telling me your fears were misplaced. Just remember that I have your name on the top of my prayer list today. Now off with you—you dare not be tardy on your first day.”

Lilly attempted to smile. It proved impossible. “I can use as many prayers as you can squeeze into your schedule.”

Miss Addie’s words echoed in Lilly’s mind—at least temporarily. It was more likely the overseer would rue the day he hired her, she decided. Once outside the door, the other girls surrounded her, and as they made their way to the mill, girls from the other boardinghouses joined them. Lilly was swept along with the momentum, no longer in control of her destiny, the force of the bustling girls now carrying her along toward a worrisome future.

A short time later two of the girls abruptly broke off and hurried toward No. 1 of the Appleton, their void quickly filled by others, all rushing toward No. 2. They hurried through the gate, across the yard, and up the winding staircase. Lilly stopped short and turned into the counting room. She breathed a long sigh of relief. Thaddeus Arnold was nowhere in sight. Instead, a rotund middle-aged man with a balding pate and cherry red cheeks occupied the chair. He smiled in her direction. Lilly glanced over her shoulder expecting to find someone behind her. There was no one, yet she was somewhat surprised to see the man still sporting a smile when she turned back in his direction. He crooked his finger, beckoning her closer. Taking a hesitant step forward, Lilly was buoyed by his broadening smile, so she continued onward until she was standing directly in front of him.

“You must be Lilly Armbruster.” His tone was deep and resonant, much like her father’s voice.

“Yes, I was to report to Mr. Arnold—Thaddeus Arnold—but I don’t see him.”

He motioned her toward a wooden chair. “I am Lawrence Gault, and I’ve replaced Mr. Arnold. He has been promoted to another position with the mill.” Mr. Gault gave her another broad smile, his cheeks puffing into the shape of two rosy apples. “I fear you’ll be forced to complete your employment papers with me.”

Lilly issued a silent prayer of thanks. At least she didn’t have to begin her day dealing with that pompous, beady-eyed Mr. Arnold. Returning the man’s smile, she dropped into the empty chair beside his desk. “It will be a pleasure, Mr. Gault.”

She sat quietly as Mr. Gault slid a neatly stacked pile of papers toward her then pushed his wire-rimmed spectacles onto the bridge of his nose. “Now, then, this is your employment agreement. You should read the terms, and if you have any questions, we can discuss them. While you’re reading the agreement, I have some other papers I must complete, but please interrupt me if you find something that you don’t understand.”

Lilly nodded and returned his smile. This man was certainly a refreshing change from her initial interview with Mr. Arnold. After scanning the first paragraph relating to duties of the overseer, she slowed down and began reading more carefully. She found the rule one of the girls had mentioned. It stated that she must agree to stay for a minimum of one year, and all employees intending to leave employment of the company must give two weeks’ notice of such intention to the overseer or their contract would not be considered fulfilled. She scanned the paragraph requiring she be at work unless the overseer determined her unable to attend due to illness.

The rule regarding church attendance, the one Nadene had mentioned, was next. It stated that regular attendance at public worship on the Sabbath was necessary for the preservation of good order and that the Company would not employ any person who was habitually absent. Did the Boston Associates truly feel it necessary to include church attendance as one of their rules? Perhaps she should ask Mr. Gault. On second thought, perhaps she should not. It would be foolhardy of her to be labeled as a troublemaker on her first day. Yet she wondered about such personal matters being regulated by an employer.

“I trust you read the last paragraph regarding your wages—you’ll be paid the last Friday of each month. Any questions?” Mr. Gault inquired when she glanced in his direction.