Bianca had been bowled over by how deeply Max had thought out everything. Papa, who was accustomed to approving a new idea or suggestion on the spot when presented with a sample of it, would be awestruck.
At last, Papa and Max emerged from the office, still deep in conversation. Bianca went up on her toes to see over the crowds of workers leaving for the day, and caught sight of her father’s beaming smile.
Her heart soared, and she clapped a hand to her mouth to keep from bursting out in delight. Papa was pleased. Max was smiling, too; Papa had approved and given his blessing. After so many weeks of discussion with Max, Bianca had almost come to think it already had been, but today she realized how anxious she—and Max, no doubt—had been about it.
They joined her and she couldn’t hold back anymore. “Did you support his ideas, Papa?” she demanded.
He chuckled. “How could I not? I’ve never seen a more complete plan for anything, including this factory. Of course I did. Only an idiot wouldn’t be willing to give it a go.”
Bianca laughed, already looking to her husband. “Congratulations,” she said softly.
He took her hand and kissed her wrist, his eyes twinkling. “At least half of it is due to you.”
“You’re too generous,” she replied.
“No, I’m too fortunate by half,” he said as they started toward home, Papa striding in the lead. “I told him which parts were your ideas.”
“Nothing is surer to invite his critical eye,” she said, but at the same time she blushed with pleasure.
“Mr. St. James! Mr. St. James!” John, one of the young workers in the modeling workshop, was pursuing them. “I tried to catch you, sir, to see if you’d want to see the pots you told me and Bobby Jenkins to throw for you.”
Max hesitated. “Go on,” Bianca said, untangling her arm from his. She knew he’d been waiting to see those pots. John and Bobby were atop his list for workers to bring into Fortuna, and their ability to do what he asked was key to its success.
“Just a quick look,” he said, giving in. “I’ll see you at home?”
She nodded, and to her surprise he leaned down and kissed her, lightly, quickly, on the mouth. “Thank you, love,” he whispered, then turned and strode off with John trotting beside him.
“A hard worker, that one,” said Papa as she joined him on the path up the hill. “How long has he been at this Fortuna business?”
“I expect since he arrived at Perusia. Certainly he had a fully composed idea when we went to London.”
Papa grunted. “I knew I was right about him! Got Markham to pay in full, and by the end of this year Perusia wares will be serving a duke and two earls. He’s got a nerve, you can’t deny that.”
She laughed. “And you’ve not even mentioned his greatest contribution to Perusia.”
Papa brightened at this teasing mention of the redware cricket vase. “True, true! I give it a fond pat every morning and reflect with pleasure that Mannox does not have it. I mean to hold on to it, too, you know. St. James had better practice his batting before next year’s wakes.”
“He suggested we form a cricket club.”
“A fine idea,” exclaimed Papa. “There’s a fair prospect for a pitch below Frances’s terrace...”
They were still laughing when they reached Perusia Hall, where Hickson came out to meet them. “Miss Tate has returned home, sir,” he said, his face bright with eagerness. “Oh no—I do beg your pardon—Mr. and Mrs. Mayne!”
Bianca had already run past him into the house, darting down the corridor toward the sound of voices. At her entrance, Cathy and Mr. Mayne looked up from the tea tray in front of them.
“Bianca!” Cathy rose and opened her arms, and Bianca flew to her sister with a cry of delight. “Oh my dear, it’s been so long,” Cathy said, laughing and crying at the same time. “Let me look at you!”
Bianca stepped back, keeping her grip on Cathy’s hands. She knew what had caught her sister’s eyes. “Do you like my hair? Jennie learned it in London.”
“It’s beautiful.” Cathy smiled. “Jennie must be so pleased to be a lady’s maid at last! She and Ellen skirmished regularly...”
Bianca laughed. “Wait until you see the gowns I ordered in town! I declare the dressmakers there are so artful, they made even me look handsome.”
“Bee,” said Cathy with a helpless smile of reproach. “Of course you’re lovely!”
Bianca grinned. “Andyoulook blissfully happy.”
“I am, Bee, I am.” Cathy did look blissful. There was a glow to her face that hadn’t been there before. For a moment the joy of seeing her sister again almost made Bianca shed a tear.
