Hanover Square, Tuesday 13 May
My dear Cousin,
I regret that I shall be unable to accompany you to Chelsea today, as my Aunt Frances is most inconveniently delivering a child. I shall take you tomorrow if that agrees with you.
Fondly,
Cainewood
"A USEFUL SKILL indeed, miss." Sean made a notation in his notebook. "Perhaps I can find a position for you cleaning Delaney and Company's main offices."
"Offices?" the scullery maid squealed, her cracked and work-reddened hands flying up to her cheeks. Clearly she considered cleaning offices a huge step up in the world. "A place of business? Not a kitchen?"
"I cannot make any promises, since decisions have yet to be made. But you won't be working in a kitchen." One business he wasn't involved in was food service. He stood, and when she stood too, he stuck out his hand. "Whatever your final assignment, you should expect to begin the Monday following Lord Lincolnshire's loss."
"Will I still live here?"
"I'm afraid not." Sean was certain Hamilton would never allow it. "But have no fear, miss. I shall arrange lodging in a boardinghouse for you until you can find a situation of your own."
She clutched his hand in both of hers, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Thank you, my lord. You cannot imagine—"
"I'm not a lord," he interrupted. "Merely a mister."
"You'll be a lord soon—"
"And you're very welcome. Before you return to the kitchens, please ask Mr. Higginbotham to step in."
He sat and made a few more notes while she all but danced out of the room. When the house steward entered, he rose again. "Was she the last one then, Mr. Higginbotham?"
A tall, thin man with a gaze that didn't miss anything, Higginbotham ran Lincolnshire's household like clockwork. "Other than Eugene Scott, one of the gardeners, yes. I allowed him the day off to sit with his ailing mother."
"A gardener." Sean nodded and made another note. Perhaps Mr. Scott could be assigned to work with the crews that landscaped new buildings following construction. "Please sit down, Mr. Higginbotham."
The steward did so, smoothing his palms on his striped trousers. "I must tell you, sir, that everyone, from the basement of this house to the attics, is extremely grateful for your seeing to their continued employment."
"Think nothing of it. They're uncommonly loyal employees, and as such, will prove to be assets in their future positions."
Now that Sean had interviewed them all—mostly in the evening hours over more than a week—he would assess their relative strengths so he could appropriately distribute them among the varied businesses he owned. Some would be involved in property management, others in import or export, manufacturing, construction, and many other of his endeavors.
"I hope everyone will be pleased with their final assignments," he said.
"I'm certain they will be pleased to have any employment at all. Although they wish to remain with Lord Lincolnshire until he's gone, of course."
"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Higginbotham hesitated. "If you don't mind my asking, Mr. Hamilton…" He cleared his throat. "How is it you've come to know of enough available positions? And come by the authority to hire—"
"I know a lot of people," Sean interrupted dismissively.
"I expect as a well-known artist you've had commissions from all the best—"
"Something like that." He tapped his quill on the notebook. "As for your future, Mr. Higginbotham…"
The man sat forward, apprehension crossing his long face. "I assumed I'd remain here. If I may say so, Mr. Hamilton, you're going to require a minimum of staff at the least."
Sean wouldn't think of leaving such a fine man at the mercy of Deirdre's husband. "Your efficiency has impressed me. I know of a factory in Surrey in need of a foreman. If you're amenable, I'd like to see you in that position."
Higginbotham's eyes widened. "A factory?"
"They manufacture lamps, the new gaslights. As it's a growing industry, it's a very large factory indeed, with upwards of three hundred employees."
The steward squared his shoulders. "I have managed a sizable staff here."
"More than a hundred, by my estimate." Sean felt like he'd interviewed a thousand. "You'll have to relocate outside London, of course, but compensation will include a foreman's house and the staff to manage it, leaving you free to focus on the factory's needs."
"I'm to have my own servants?"
"You'll need them. The factory is a major responsibility."
The man's eyes filled with determination, perhaps tempered by a touch of excitement. A house steward was a respectable position, but managing a factory was something else altogether. Rather than a glorified servant, he'd be a man of industry, a man of business. "I'm up to it, sir, I assure you."
"I've no doubt." Sean snapped the notebook closed. "We're agreed, then, and I'm finished here. Let Lord Lincolnshire know, if you please. I'm off to…paint."
Lincoln's Inn Fields, Tuesday 13 May
My dear Cousin,
It should have been better had you notified me of your delay sooner than four hours after I expected you. You seem to have forgotten that Lady A is holding her reception tomorrow, possibly the most important day of your sister's life. As I plan to attend, Thursday afternoon will be more agreeable for Chelsea.
Yours very sincerely,
Rachael
P.S. I wish Lady Malmsey the best.