Broken Threads (The Corvill Family Saga Book 2) by Tessa Barclay

Author:Tessa Barclay [Barclay, Tessa]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: nineteenth century, Australia, gold rush, family saga, Queen Victoria, Scotland, historical fiction, love and marriage
Publisher: Wyndham Books (Family Saga)
Published: 2018-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The townsfolk of Galashiels were greatly intrigued by the news of Ronald Armstrong’s project. The long-headed businessmen thought it very astute.

‘He’ll get a first-hand view of the wool sales the tither side of the world. Pringle have done it already, you know ‒ sent a man to learn the inside o’ it.’

‘But is Armstrong the right man?’ wondered some. ‘He never seems to know whose side he’s on ‒ many’s the time I’ve heard him arguing against economic sense.’

‘But that’s only where the workforce are concerned. He’s as good a man as any when it comes to valuing the wool.’

‘I wonder,’ said the ambitious underlings, ‘who they’ll put in as manager?’

‘Ach, the mistress will have men queuing up from all over Scotland. Don’t get your hopes up.’

‘Aiblins she’ll go back to managing Waterside herself. I always wondered that she handed it on to her man when she can do it better herself.’

‘Aye, but she’d find it hard to do now, would she no? Now that she’s got a wee simple-minded lassie to look after. Na, na, she’ll have to put in a manager.’

And so hopes ran high among those looking for a chance to better themselves in the textile industry. Those who were more interested in matters of the heart rather than matters of trade were equally intrigued.

‘He was aye a footloose kind,’ the women said to each other at their sewing parties and whist tables. ‘The wonder is he’s stayed so long.’

‘Australia’s a long way, though. Up to now he’s been all round Scotland and in foreign parts on the Continent. But Australia …’

‘She won’t miss him, in my opinion. Short-tempered and sombre, I’ve thought him recently ‒ all his sense of humour seems to have left him.’

‘It’s the bairn, of course. Somebody telt me that he didna really think it was his own when Jenny brought it home.’

‘Not his? When she’s got his hair and his eyes? Havers!’

‘Aye, but … She’s lacking, you know. That’s what he doesna like.’

‘So he takes himself off to the tither side o’ the world. Well, absence makes the heart grow fonder. A month or two in a clipper ship and six among the rowdies of the colonies will teach him to value his home.’

Between Jenny and Ronald themselves, a frigid peace had grown up after a loud, lengthy and hurtful quarrel. At first Jenny had been unable to take his remark seriously.

‘Go yourself? To Sydney? Don’t talk nonsense, dear.’

‘Where’s the nonsense? We need someone to go and see how the wool is grown and sold ‒ and I know as much about that as any man we’re likely to hire.’

‘But you can’t go.’

‘Who says I can’t?’

‘But … but …’

If she had said, ‘But I need you here,’ the matter might have ended then and there. But because they were talking about the business she said, ‘You’re the manager of William Corvill and Son. You can’t go stravaiging round Sydney.’

‘You can soon hire another manager,’ he said curtly.

‘But I can’t understand why

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