The Beauty of Coincidence | manxman | (Historical Fiction)

XXXIII - Posh & Profitable

Reynold stood at the top of the basement stairs, his knuckles hurt like hell but he tried to get over the discomfort. The process of applying the secured wiring of the piano had of course taken him hours, but the strain in his hands was certainly turning out to be the worst part. He wasn't complaining though. Everything was coming together perfectly, and at just the proper rate for him to be sure the basement would be ready for when he wanted to present it to Victor.

Since the piano was turning out to be the most challenging part of this task, he kept in mind exactly how he wanted the rest of the area to look. He'd picked out the wallpaper, what designs of the furnishings he wanted to provide from the shop, even had two rolled up rugs that'd been delivered from Winchester just the other day resting against the back wall. Sure, the parlor would be down in a basement, and such a setting may not sound worthy enough for one such as Victor Ramsey, but Reynold was more than positive the young lord would appreciate it the way it was. Besides, it wasn't like the type of place Reynold had in mind for it to be would be able to exist so openly. Down here, in such secrecy, it would be best for everyone involved.

Popping a stiffness in his knuckles, Reynold opened the door to the basement that led out into the backstreet and stepped out. The day was a bit hotter than usual, but not entirely uncomfortable. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled and it was unbuttoned, showing off the broad frame of his chest riddled with pearls of sweat. In need of a good bath and beverage, he locked the basement door behind him and rounded the building to the front end. Late in the afternoon, the hustle and bustle of the main boulevard was settling down, the distant shouts and barking orders of the waterway calming as well. When he passed the window of the shop, he peered inside and there were no customers in sight, just Evie sitting behind the far desk with a small tray of tea and sandwiches in front of her.

Reynold entered the shop then, the bell catching Evie's attention as he stepped inside. She smiled toward him as he neared and brought a hand to her lips to shield a chuckle. "Forgive me," she said, "You look rather worse for wear, Mr. Deighton. Have you gotten even a moment of decent sleep since you began working on your project?"

There was a mirror hung against the wall to his left, and when he glimpsed his appearance, he touched a hand beneath his left eye. He had tired shadows, but he shrugged it off. "I am quite alright," he said. "How goes the day up here? Well, I hope?"

"Just three orders this morning, but the afternoon has been rather quiet. Frank stopped by an hour ago to deliver some replacements given the customers from the other day purchased a display set. He should be returning any minute. I asked if he would fetch me a weekly and a magazine."

"I see," Reynold nodded.

With the news of the three orders placed this morning, he turned for the window looking out onto the street and shut the curtains, turning the sign at the door to read 'closed' as well, and then gestured for Evie to follow him to the living quarters. The shop would do just fine in profit with just the three placements, and he wanted to get Evie away from her duties.

He knew she was still rather capable at her stage of pregnancy, and the majority of her task required her to sit, but there was a part of him that felt bad about making her take part in the business at the moment. If Everard were here, Reynold could almost bet the man wouldn't have his wife lifting a single finger for any duty; perhaps she would cook still given none of the Deighton men were skilled to any extent in that department, but Evie would more than likely be knitting, reading, and relaxing her days away as she carried she and Everard's child.

Mulling over a thought for a moment, Reynold stepped aside to allow Evie entry first into the living quarters before closing the door behind them. Perhaps it was time to bring forth a bit more truth to their situation. If his mother and father could now at least accept him for the man he was, especially after a chat with Norman Ramsey, Reynold pondered what his parents would think to discover Evie was not carrying the child of Frank, and it would be their own grandchild she gave birth to. Reynold wanted Evie to live a life Everard planned for her, and continuing to work under their name surely hadn't been a consideration.