I’m a NaNo Winner!

Today I crossed the winning line for NaNoWriMo 2019. To celebrate I thought I’d share what I’ve written. Again, it’s been barely edited and don’t forget it is the last few days of NaNo. It was all about getting the words down and across the line, so please be forgiving of its rough state.

The church bells across London continued to ring out in celebration as she headed down Park Lane for her meeting with Mr Foster. The morning air was still cool but the trees had finally begun to bud.

Her cheeks almost ached. It was impossible not to smile. If possible, her cheeks lifted even further as she walked towards her business partner who waited for her at the entrance to Hyde Park as he did so every morning.

His lips spread into a similar grin as he saw her approach. “Good morning, Mrs Harding.”

“Good morning, Mr Foster. Is it not a beautiful day?”

“The very best I must say. All of London is alive with joy since Napoleon’s abdication and the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy.”

She was tempted to reveal that it would be short lived, but she knew better. They began their usual circular walk around the park. They could both only spare an hour without raising the eyebrows of their employers so she got straight to the point. “So, have you read the financial columns in the newspapers this morning?”

“Since the news, confidence had soared and our stocks have doubled in value.”

“Excellent, we should sell at the higher price while the market remains buoyant in the next few days. Then we can re-invest the profits.”It was hardly a windfall for her, but every penny needed to be invested wisely if she were to generate enough capital for what was to come. She had put forward her measly pay this month and at least doubled it. Mr Foster had managed to invest more, because it turned out, even while supporting his mother and sister, he was an astute saver.

“If we continue to invest wisely, it will not be long before you can set yourself up in business.”

Mr Foster offered her another one of his wide smiles. “I have to say, my dream to set up a business in my own name is looking closer than it ever has before. Thanks to you.”

It filled her with joy that she was able to help him fulfil his dreams as well as her own. “ I am just happy we are able to help each other.”

They walked side by side along the path. The grass was now littered with yellow and purple spring flowers. Birdsong filled their momentary silence. They were still getting to know one another, and when they were not discussing business, they still struggled for things to say to each other.

“How is your mother, today?” She opted for something easy and acceptable.

“She is recovering from her cold, thank you. She longs to meet you but I have explained that you cannot be remiss in your duties with Lady Ravenwood.”

“You are correct. Lady Ravenwood keeps a very busy schedule despite her claims that she is unable to keep up with the younger set these days. When I have earned enough money to leave her employ, I think I will need a holiday.”

“A holiday?” he frowned.

Of course, working men in this time did not have the time nor funds for a holiday. “I mean, hopefully, I will be able to rest and do something of my own choosing on an evening for a change.”

“We have never really discussed why you wish to invest your money. You know I dream of starting my own business, but what do you wish to do, Mrs Harding?”

She grimaced. “Please, Mr Foster, I am tired of all this formal Mrs Harding stuff. My friends call me Lydia.”

Mr Foster looked at the ground and his cheeks took on a hint of pink. “I thank you for the honour, but I do not think it would be appropriate.”

“Why? Are we not becoming friends?” She liked Mr Foster and she was tired of having to call him so all the time. She did not see the point now they were getting to know one another. She also did not like to be continually referred to as Mrs Harding, especially by someone who was her friend.

“Yes, we are becoming friends but it is still not proper to address you by your Christian name considering our different stations in life.”

“What difference? I am not a member of the aristocracy or the gentry. My parents were musicians. I do not pretend to be anything I am not.”

“But you are clearly well bred and well educated, you are from a wealthy background regardless. I am merely the son of a banker.”

“You are a hard-working man with dreams of improving his future. I see no difference between us. It is ridiculous that society as a whole believes one is stuck in the situation they were born into to without hope of rising above it. People who are born with a silver spoon in their mouth are not better than anyone else simply because they have the privilege of money to help them through life.”

Mr Foster gaped at her then chuckled. “You are unlike any woman I have ever comes across, Mrs Harding.”

“Will you stop with the Mrs Harding.” She was a little short but his statement about being inferior to her had angered up her blood and it continued to boil within her.

He nodded and smiled. “If you insist, but I would prefer to do so only when we are alone.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

They walked along, side by side. The westerly breeze caught the skirts of her navy wool dress. Today she wore what she would describe as a bolero jacket, but here it was known as a spencer. The brass buttons up the front glinted in the sunshine. Like the rest of her clothing it was plain. The charcoal wool was finely woven and the long sleeves were necessary for the spring weather. As usual, she wore her only pair of gloves and her straw bonnet. She was finally getting used to putting them on without having to remind herself whenever she left the house.

“Benjamin.”

Her head swung towards him at the revelation of his name.

“You may address me as Benjamin.”

Her lips stretched into a wide smile. “Thank you, Benjamin.” Heat bloomed in her chest. It was wonderful to have someone to speak to as a friend. Someone she did not have to please all the time for fear of losing her position, or alternatively not someone she only ordered about. Anyone else she met was an acquaintance of her employer and was not really interested in speaking to her.

Now, she finally had a friend of her own. Someone she wanted to know better and whom she would be able to talk to about what interested them both.

Images of Penny flashed through her mind and the warmth that previously bloomed, transformed into an ache across her chest. Her heart ached with longing to see Penny’s face again. Penny was much more than a friend. She was her adopted sister; her closest confidante.

“May I enquire as to what has made you appear so forlorn?”

“I’m sorry. This talk of us being friends has me reminiscing on a friend I have lost.”

“I am sorry to hear that. Were you very close?”

“Yes. She was like a sister to me, for our husbands were brothers. We loved and supported each other while our husbands were serving their country. I was present for the birth of both her children and helped to raise them.” Her gaze drifted off into the distant trees. “I do hope to see her again.” If I can find a way home.

“Is that what you wish to do with your money?”

She looked back at him. What did he mean?

“You have not yet answered my question about what you wish to do with the profits from your investments. Do you wish to return to India?”

Her heart jumped. This was entering dangerous territory. She had longed for someone to be close to, someone she could confide in. Yet the reality of friendship was she was faced with more probing questions about who she was and where she came from. Questions that she could not answer truthfully. She was a hypocrite. Her chest tightened as she prepared herself to lie once more.

“No, I cannot return to India. I must find a way to support myself.” She could not bring herself to look at him and kept her head firmly fixed forward. “My husband’s family have disowned me.” The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. God, she hated this.

“I see. Then what do you wish to do?”

“As I said, I wish to support myself so I no longer have to seek employment, or rely on others.”

“Do you not wish to marry again?”

“Why is everyone obsessed with marrying me off?”

“It is not normal for a woman to be alone. Surely you wish to have someone to take care of you and have a family of your own. It is all my sister talks of.”

“Well I am not your sister or any other female who seems to think a man will solve all her problems. I can do it myself. Besides, I do not intend to have children.” Certainly not while she is trapped in this…this dream, alternate reality, or whatever it was.

The mortality rate for women while giving birth in this time was no doubt atrocious. There had been a time when she would have happily had Mark’s children, but that was no longer possible. Even if she did manage to find her way home, she could not risk loving someone only to lose them again. Her heart could not take any more.

She chanced a glance at Mr F…no, Benjamin. He kept his gaze to the ground and his mouth had become firm line. Had she said something that upset him? Whatever it was he seemed reluctant to speak further on the subject and she was glad of it.

They traversed the final bend on their usual, circular path. The gateway to Hyde Park was ahead of them and their meeting was nearly over. Disappointment weighed on her shoulders. She enjoyed their time together and wanted it to continue. She bristled at the knowledge that she would have to leave him and return to the service of her dragon-like and interfering employer. She would much rather stay and talk about her plans with Benjamin.

“You are very quiet.”

“Yes, I was just lamenting the end of our meeting and having to return to my duties.”

“I enjoy our meetings too. I find a look forward to them more and more each day.”

His honest comment eased the weight of disappointment that had pressed upon her as they reached the park gates.

“Perhaps, when we have each made our money, and you have set yourself up in business, you could allow me to work as an advisor in your office.”

A frown marred his brow when he tilted his head towards her. “As always, you continue to surprise me with your outlandish propositions. Ladies do not work. And certainly not in the offices of investment bankers.”

“Do I have to remind you that I am not a lady? I wish to put my knowledge and experience to good use, rather than die of boredom sat at home.”

“You have a unique outlook on you prospects that I find refreshing. I have to say, the possibly of being able to speak to you all day about investments is appealing.”

Her eyes met his. The twinkling blue irises were now a only narrow band around his dilated pupils. Heat crept up her neck and flooded her cheeks. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her in such a way. She took a step back. Perhaps this had been a mistake.

He blinked. The heat in his gaze vanished and the twinkle returned.

“Until then we will have to make do with our hourly meetings. Perhaps we can come to an agreement about your unorthodox proposition once we have made our fortunes?”

She offered him a tight smile. “Perhaps.” In truth she did not plan to be here for longer than necessary. As usual she had allowed her mouth to run away with her without thinking.

“So, until tomorrow then?”

“Until tomorrow.”

He tipped his hat to her. “Good day, Mrs…” he glanced downwards then back to her face, “Lydia.”

“Good day, Benjamin.”