Daughter of the Loom (Bells of Lowell Book #1) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Judith Miller, Tracie Peterson
Silence hung in the room, creating an emptiness that needed to be filled, a void that too closely resembled her barren heart.
Chapter 2
Boston, Massachusetts
Matthew Cheever watched closely as Nathan Appleton glanced toward his wife at the end of the table. Appleton nodded his head and the couple rose in unison. “Shall we adjourn to the library, gentlemen? I believe there are cigars and a fine bottle of port that need our attention. Ladies, I’m certain my wife has some new piece of needlework or a book of poetry she wishes to discuss with you in the music room.”
The two groups took their respective cues, the men following Nathan to the library and the women trailing along behind Jasmine Appleton in customary fashion. The meal had been superb, but it was obvious the men now longed to be done with the formalities so that they could finally get to the business at hand—the real reason they had gathered: to report and discuss their successes and formulate their plans for the future. Men’s business. Aside from obvious social impropriety, their wives’ total inability to comprehend matters dealing with business forbade any interesting discussions at supper. They had managed a brief conversation regarding their good fortune in escaping the disastrous results of the depression that had devastated many of their friends. But with their money invested in the Lowell project, none of them had been adversely affected. When Jasmine realized her husband was discussing such a disturbing topic while their guests were being served crème brûlée, she had lovingly chastised him and called a halt to their conversation.
“Finally, gentlemen,” Nathan remarked as he offered a humidor filled with an array of pungent imported cigars. The men stroked the tightly wound tubes of tobacco between their fingers, sniffing them the way their wives inhaled the sweet aroma of summer’s first rose. Finally, after much ceremony, each of them clipped off the cigar’s end and settled back to puff on the aromatic offering.
Matthew felt enthralled by the scene unfolding before him. It was difficult to believe that he could find himself among this group of influential men. Strange, he thought, how opportunities arise from the most unexpected circumstances.
“Listen and learn,” Kirk Boott instructed in a barely audible tone.
Matthew nodded, chiding himself for getting caught up in his own thoughts, even if only for a few moments.
“As I was saying at supper before my wife cut me short, we’ve been most fortunate, gentlemen. Many here in Boston have been suffering great losses, and I fear they will continue for at least the remainder of the year. Not a major depression, perhaps, but certainly those who have invested at the wrong time and in the wrong places have suffered dramatically. Fortunately for all of us,” Nathan commented, surveying the room filled with men, “we’ve experienced nothing but profit. Our project has been every bit the success we had anticipated.”
“That’s true enough, Nathan,” Tracy Jackson remarked, “and with the Appleton Mill opening just last month and three other mills slated for opening next year, we’ll see even greater profits in the years to come. Textiles will be our future and fortune. My only regret is that Francis didn’t live long enough to see his plan to fruition.”
“Agreed, Tracy, but your brother-in-law will never be forgotten. I can think of no greater honor we could have paid than to make the town his namesake.”
Tracy nodded his head. “That’s true, although I think perhaps some of the locals resented the town’s name being changed to Lowell. It appears they’re now becoming accustomed to the change, and with the daily influx of newcomers to the town, I believe the name has taken hold.”
“I’m not so sure the old farm families have accepted the renaming of East Chelmsford just yet,” Matthew interjected. A wave of embarrassment washed over Matthew as he realized
Chapter 2
Boston, Massachusetts
Matthew Cheever watched closely as Nathan Appleton glanced toward his wife at the end of the table. Appleton nodded his head and the couple rose in unison. “Shall we adjourn to the library, gentlemen? I believe there are cigars and a fine bottle of port that need our attention. Ladies, I’m certain my wife has some new piece of needlework or a book of poetry she wishes to discuss with you in the music room.”
The two groups took their respective cues, the men following Nathan to the library and the women trailing along behind Jasmine Appleton in customary fashion. The meal had been superb, but it was obvious the men now longed to be done with the formalities so that they could finally get to the business at hand—the real reason they had gathered: to report and discuss their successes and formulate their plans for the future. Men’s business. Aside from obvious social impropriety, their wives’ total inability to comprehend matters dealing with business forbade any interesting discussions at supper. They had managed a brief conversation regarding their good fortune in escaping the disastrous results of the depression that had devastated many of their friends. But with their money invested in the Lowell project, none of them had been adversely affected. When Jasmine realized her husband was discussing such a disturbing topic while their guests were being served crème brûlée, she had lovingly chastised him and called a halt to their conversation.
“Finally, gentlemen,” Nathan remarked as he offered a humidor filled with an array of pungent imported cigars. The men stroked the tightly wound tubes of tobacco between their fingers, sniffing them the way their wives inhaled the sweet aroma of summer’s first rose. Finally, after much ceremony, each of them clipped off the cigar’s end and settled back to puff on the aromatic offering.
Matthew felt enthralled by the scene unfolding before him. It was difficult to believe that he could find himself among this group of influential men. Strange, he thought, how opportunities arise from the most unexpected circumstances.
“Listen and learn,” Kirk Boott instructed in a barely audible tone.
Matthew nodded, chiding himself for getting caught up in his own thoughts, even if only for a few moments.
“As I was saying at supper before my wife cut me short, we’ve been most fortunate, gentlemen. Many here in Boston have been suffering great losses, and I fear they will continue for at least the remainder of the year. Not a major depression, perhaps, but certainly those who have invested at the wrong time and in the wrong places have suffered dramatically. Fortunately for all of us,” Nathan commented, surveying the room filled with men, “we’ve experienced nothing but profit. Our project has been every bit the success we had anticipated.”
“That’s true enough, Nathan,” Tracy Jackson remarked, “and with the Appleton Mill opening just last month and three other mills slated for opening next year, we’ll see even greater profits in the years to come. Textiles will be our future and fortune. My only regret is that Francis didn’t live long enough to see his plan to fruition.”
“Agreed, Tracy, but your brother-in-law will never be forgotten. I can think of no greater honor we could have paid than to make the town his namesake.”
Tracy nodded his head. “That’s true, although I think perhaps some of the locals resented the town’s name being changed to Lowell. It appears they’re now becoming accustomed to the change, and with the daily influx of newcomers to the town, I believe the name has taken hold.”
“I’m not so sure the old farm families have accepted the renaming of East Chelmsford just yet,” Matthew interjected. A wave of embarrassment washed over Matthew as he realized
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