Daughter of the Loom (Bells of Lowell Book #1) Read Online Free Page B

he’d spoken the words aloud. He was here to listen and learn, not to necessarily voice an opinion.
    All heads turned toward him, making his embarrassment even more complete. Kirk Boott gave him a slight smile before turning to the others. “I believe all of you know Matthew Cheever. He has strong ties to the Chelmsford farming community. He keeps me abreast of any unrest that may be stirring among the locals. Most of it has been settled by now, of course, but Matthew can tell you that many of the old East Chelmsford landowners still resent us—particularly those of us involved in purchasing their land.”
    Tracy Jackson swirled the deep purple liquid in his snifter. “Don’t tell me they’re still contending they were duped.”
    Boott looked to Matthew. “Go ahead,” he encouraged.
    “I’m afraid so,” Matthew responded, feeling strengthened by Boott’s approval. “Many say you deceived them.”
    “How so? They were paid a fair price,” Appleton retorted.
    “It’s not the money, although they do believe they were underpaid,” Matthew replied. “Those landowners truly believed the land would continue to be used for agrarian purposes. They sold their acreage based on that belief and say that Mr. Boott told them he planned to plant crops and raise sheep. Now they deeply resent the industrialization of their land.”
    “Surely they didn’t believe Kirk was going to become a country squire,” Tracy jibed. Several of the men chuckled. “What they’re angry about is the fact that we’ve been able to put their land and water rights to profitable use.”
    “Since Mr. Boott is the visible member of the Boston Associates, the one with whom the locals have had personal dealings, their anger toward him runs deep. They have even gone so far as to make up a song about Mr. Boott,” Matthew replied.
    Tracy Jackson shook his head and laughed. “Ah, you’ve been memorialized, Kirk. I hope they haven’t portrayed you too shamefully. Why don’t you sing it for us, Mr. Cheever?” Jackson encouraged.
    Kirk shifted in his chair. “If it’s a musical offering you’re wanting, Tracy, I’m sure the women have something to offer in the other room.”
    “Come now, Kirk. It can’t be all that bad,” Tracy taunted. “Give us the gist of it, at least, Matthew.”
    Kirk nodded his head. “But no singing,” he admonished his young protégé.
    Matthew made a show of himself, clearing his throat as he walked to the center of the room. Gone was all hint of embarrassment. The other men applauded in delight as he gave an exaggerated bow. “No singing,” he promised as he turned toward Boott and received what he knew to be a forbidding glance. “Besides, I’m afraid my voice would send the gentlemen running out the front door. Now, let me see if I can remember a verse or two of that little ditty.
    “There came a man from the old country,
    the Merrimack River, he happened to see.
    What a capital place for mills, quoth he,
    Ri-toot, ri-noot, riumpty, ri-tooten-a.
    And then these farmers so cute,
    They gave all their lands and timber to Boott,
    Ri-toot, ri-noot, ri-toot, riumpty, ri-tooten-a.”
    A thunder of applause filled the room while he gave a slight bow and returned to his chair. Matthew sensed that Kirk was carefully observing him. He didn’t want to do anything to estrange their relationship, yet truth be known, he was enjoying the attention of these powerful men.
    “You have the boy well trained, Kirk. I notice he ceased his recitation and came running back to his chair the moment you appeared bored by his presentation.”
    Matthew ignored Paul Moody’s remark but was somewhat surprised when Boott nodded, gave his friend a wry smile, and said in a voice loud enough for all to hear, “Let’s hope so. I believe I’ve earned my reputation among my business partners as well as the Lowell community.” The comment irked Matthew, who was no child. At twenty-five he was no one’s trained boy.
    Nathan leaned