“Orders from whom?”
“Certain ladies of the ton—introduced to the Suttons’ gloves by Minnie and Timms—have become lifelong customers. The prices the Suttons can command for their now-exclusive gloves has enabled the glove making to continue as a viable sideline.”
“I see. So gloves, binding books, and what else?”
“Mostly shoes. The Suttons supply finished leather to a host of the Northampton shoemakers. That’s the primary market for leather around here, and it’s the principal reason the leatherworks is one of the most lucrative businesses on the estate.”
In light of that introduction, he was anticipating being impressed, and the Suttons and their enterprise fully lived up to his expectations—indeed, exceeded them. Leonard Sutton and his wife and daughter and their helpers, Morris and Richie, were delighted to welcome him and show him about. He examined the supple leathers they produced and learned that the business had standing orders from the Northampton shoemakers.
“They’ll take as much as we can give them,” Len Sutton proudly declared.
As for the delicate leather Isabelle Sutton and her daughter, Nell, used to make gloves for their special customers, after handling a pair, Gregory informed the ladies that he fully intended to put in orders for pairs to give as gifts to his female relatives throughout the year. “I never know what to get them, but they’ll all love these.”
Isabelle and Nell preened.
But shoe leather and gloves weren’t where Isabelle Sutton’s heart now lay. She waited while Len and Nell spoke with Caitlin about ordering more lye and leatherwork needles, then eagerly escorted Gregory and Caitlin to the building next door, which fronted onto the lane that led to Earls Barton.
The bookbindery was of relatively new construction. “How long has this been a part of your business?” Gregory asked.
“About five years.” Isabelle proceeded to show off the equipment they’d brought in, and Gregory found himself quite fascinated by the process.
He liked books, and the quality of the covers Isabelle, Nell, and the others were producing was second to none.
Caitlin couldn’t help but smile at the genuine interest that had laid claim to Gregory’s often-impassive features.
When he finally dragged himself away from the bindery, and they parted from the Suttons, she set out at a brisk pace up the lane.
He fell in beside her, easily matching her stride. “Are we hurrying?”
“Yes and no. I need to call in at the weavers’ cottages, and it’s already heading toward noon.”
He consulted a fob watch. “Hmm. You’re right.” A second later, he added, “I was about to say that I could safely promise not to become engrossed in fabrics, but I would have said the same about gloves, so perhaps I’d better wait and see.”
She grinned. “You’ve now seen ample evidence that none of the Hall businesses are lagging when it comes to success.”
“Indeed.” In a wondering tone, he added, “It’s been quite amazing.” He scanned ahead, then glanced at her. “Where are these cottages?”
“This way.” She turned left, onto the narrow path that led to the twin cottages tucked against a protective rise. “The Jenkinses and the Kirks live here.”
“Jenkins of the carriage works and Henry Kirk, the blacksmith?”
She nodded. “And Madge, of course. But Margaret Jenkins and Monica Kirk are talented weavers, and Timms felt their skills shouldn’t be overlooked and encouraged them to join forces and set up their weaving business. They take the highest-quality fleece from the Hammersleys at Home Farm and spin that to yarn and weave their pieces here, at their homes.”
“Permit me to guess,” he said dryly, “their fabrics are much sought-after.”
She laughed. “They are indeed. They sell locally through a fabric agent, but most important to their success, they’ve established a connection with an exclusive shop in Regent Street that sells to the haut ton.” She glanced at him. “You might well have seen Margaret and Monica’s scarves gracing the throats of a countess or duchess.”
He snorted. “If Margaret and Monica’s wares live up to the standards of everything else I’ve seen here, I’ll be sending their scarves as gifts to several countesses, a duchess or two, and at least two marchionesses.”
She smiled. “Once you see Margaret and Monica’s wares and are suitably impressed, you should tell them that. They’ll love the idea.”
Even before he’d met the two women, Gregory was resigned to doing just that, and sure enough, after he’d inspected the spinning wheels and looms neatly set up in each cottage’s front room, the instant he touched the delicate fabric Monica had stretched on her loom, he warned the pair, entirely sincerely, that he would have orders for them to fill.
As Caitlin had predicted, both were chuffed.
After parting from Margaret and Monica with smiles and reiterated promises for future orders, he strode with Caitlin up the lane. As they walked, he reviewed all he’d seen and learned that morning. They turned onto the drive and walked between and beneath the huge old trees.
As they emerged from the tunnel and the Hall rose before them, he said, “I’ve come to realize that the Bellamy Hall estate is nothing short of remarkable.”
