“No, thank you, Sullivan,” she said. “My father is the only one that can answer my question, unfortunately. Tell me, how do you fare today?”
“Just fine,” he said. “Demand for electricity is growing, though competitors keep rising up. Your father continues to try to coax the neighborhood businesses off their isolated systems, and it’s slowly coming.”
Rachel nodded. Her father and Sullivan had begun one of the first power systems just two years prior. Many had thought them slightly mad for proposing such an idea, but as more homes continued to add electric lighting, the demand for a power supply continued to grow. Sullivan had always been something of an inventor, while her father was a businessman who knew how to turn on the charm for those he felt required it. She only wished he would consider her with anything close to the same respect he did for those he worked with. Instead, he ignored her, unless it was to tell her what he wanted to eat for dinner.
Sullivan Andrews had long been her father’s closest friend and business partner in his latest enterprises. They worked well together. He was creative and intelligent, though somewhat absent-minded, whereas her father was practical and calculating.
While her father brushed off any questions regarding his work, Sullivan appreciated the interest Rachel took in business endeavors and fed her fascination for the way things worked.
“Tell me, Sullivan, why is it again that the hotels and factories prefer their own power generator?” she asked.
“The exhaust steam from the generation can be used for building and industrial process heat,” he replied. “It’s less expensive, although whether that will remain the case is hard to say. The more power plants that open, the cheaper electricity may become.”
“And—” The question on her tongue was interrupted when the door to her father’s office opened and the booming voice of Hardwick Trenton rang out.
“Rachel!” he practically shouted. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to speak with you, Father,” she said. “You told me to wait for you until you were free. Do you not recall?”
“I — of course I do,” he muttered, waving a hand. “I am busy, Rachel, you know that. Come in now, then, what is it you wish to speak with me about?”
She entered his office, the navy blue of her satin skirts trailing behind her. While she loved the frills, the high bustles and the length of material trailing behind her in a beautiful evening gown, she also enjoyed the smart, tailored dresses she wore in her daily life. Today, for example, her dress was elegant, with just a slight bustle to provide some shaping in the back.
“Father,” she said, walking past him as he held the door open for her. “Mrs. Graham told me that you are leaving for Scotland in the morning.”
“I am,” he said, skirting around the outside of the desk and taking a seat in his mahogany captain’s desk chair. “We shall be taking a hunting trip. Not to worry, Sullivan will stay here to oversee the plant.”
She sat primly on the edge of the guest seat in front of his matching mahogany desk, holding her velvet chatelaine bag in her lap. “I should like to go with you,” she said, noting the look of astonishment that crossed his face.
“Go with me — hunting? In Scotland?” he gave out a bark of laughter. “I should think not. Whatever gave you such an idea?”
“It is just that, I have heard how very beautiful Scotland is,” she said, hearing the wistfulness in her tone but knowing it wouldn’t move him, “and I have never been out of England before. I do not have to hunt with you, of course, but I would very much like to come and see the countryside.”
“You have seen the English countryside,” he said with a frown. “Scotland is not altogether that different.”
“There are no mountains in England,” she responded, leaning forward and looking him directly in his eyes, so very much like the crystal blue of her own.
“There are not,” he agreed resolutely. “Which makes England safer and more easily accessible. I see no reason why you should accompany us.”
“Who are you going with?”
“The usual men I hunt with,” he said with a shrug. “And Thompson is coming along.”
“Vincent?” Rachel repeated, raising her eyebrows. “My, but the two of you are becoming close.”
“The lad has done well,” her father responded. “In fact, I would very much like him to take over the company one day.”
“You want Vincent to take over the company?” Rachel was incredulous. Vincent Thompson may be decent at his job, but he was certainly not the man who should be leading the charge. Not only was he reckless, but the intense way he always stared at her caused a feeling of unease to flood her from her head down to her toes. He looked at her like one did a feast set before him on the table. “Why would you choose Vincent?”
“He’s young, he’s capable, and he’s hungry,” her father responded. “Besides, who else would I look to? Andrews is as old as I am, and there is no one else.”
“What about me?” she asked, her eyes rising to his, though she knew the answer before the words were even out of her mouth.
“You” He let out a sharp guffaw. “Rachel, whatever would you know about a power plant? It’s no place for a woman to visit, let alone to work. Surely you’re joking.”
“I know plenty,” she said, straightening her spine. “I know your business model well, having grown up with your multitude of businesses. And I’ve studied the way electricity works, how it is generated by the power plant. If you would only teach me—”
He waved his hand in front of her face. “Enough of this nonsense, Rachel. Thompson!” he called out as a shadow darkened the door. “Come in here.”
The shadow paused,
