Isabelle and Alexander, Rebecca Anderson [nonfiction book recommendations .TXT] 📗

in seeing the mill?” She directed the question to Charlotte but did not expect any reply from that quarter. Edwin, however, responded immediately.

“We would be delighted,” he said. “I confess, we spoke of the possibility but assumed that, what with Mr. Osgood’s injuries, we would be unable to make it a reality.” He set down his silver and pushed away from the table as if his enthusiasm for the idea could not be contained within a dining chair. “How could one come to a city such as Manchester and not enter one of the working mills? Particularly if one has such a cherished family connection.”

Although there was no need to answer that question, Alexander nodded. “I agree. If the idea pleases you, we shall spend an hour in the mill. We could make a visit in the morning. That is when the full staff is at work. The night hours are run by only men. The effect is slightly more robust than the daytime when the female workers are also present.” Alexander went on. “In the afternoon, I am unavailable to attend you there.”

Charlotte leaped onto that opening. “Because of your medical appointments?”

Alexander looked startled at such a familiar question. He glanced at Isabelle, who wished she could say something. She wanted him to know that she had not discussed his treatment with this woman who was practically a stranger. Nor, she hoped he knew, was Isabelle speaking of his medical care with Edwin.

Alexander recovered enough to drawl, “Indeed.” With an arch of his eyebrow, he continued in a lighter tone. “It takes a team of professionals to bring me to this questionable state of wellness.”

“We met your nurse upstairs.”

Charlotte did not offer more commentary about Nurse Margaret, but Isabelle wondered if the frightening woman had been more forthcoming with their visitors than Isabelle herself had been.

“Of course, they do very well,” Charlotte continued, and with that statement brought the number of words she had spoken directly to Alexander beyond the number she’d shared with Isabelle. “It is such a relief that you have recovered so well to this point.”

Isabelle wondered at Charlotte’s investment in Alexander’s health. Perhaps as Edwin was more attentive to Isabelle than his wife was, she felt the need to connect herself more to Alexander. Edwin changed the subject to discuss the particulars of the mill visit.

“If you are willing to help my man Yeardley with a bit of heavy lifting,” Alexander told him, pointing to himself, “we shall manage the trip quite well.”

And so, the following morning, the five of them—Edwin, Charlotte, Isabelle, Alexander, and Yeardley—pressed through the busy streets of Manchester on their way to visit Osgood Mill. Yeardley pushed Alexander’s chair around and among the obstacles they encountered, including carriages, porters carrying packages, pedestrians, horses, flowing water, and dogs.

Isabelle heard Charlotte’s voice behind her. “What a great deal of mess this city holds,” she said to Edwin.

He replied with, “You might be shocked by parts of London, my dear.”

“If London is worse than this, perhaps I should rather stay away.”

Isabelle doubted very much that any part of London Edwin took his wife to visit would match the grit of the mill district, but she chose to say nothing about the less-often-­visited sections of Town.

Instead, she turned to say, “I am so honored that you should spend time exploring our city in all its aspects. Our visits to the park and the museum have been so enjoyable. I do hope before you set sail from Liverpool that you also have the opportunity to visit the Royal Manchester Institution to see the art collections, or perhaps the Cathedral or Chetham’s Library. One of the joys of Manchester is its variety.”

Alexander made a sound that could have been disagreement, wonder, or merely a clearing of his throat. Well might he be surprised to hear Isabelle describing the joys of the city she barely knew. She was surprised herself to feel the urgency to defend her home.

Home.

She had never before considered Manchester her home. Alexander’s home, yes. But now, walking down the crowded, dirty, rutted street strewn with waste, she felt a connection with and a sense of pride for the city.

Entering the mill with Edwin and Charlotte in tow, Isabelle continued in her proprietary feelings. As Edwin and Yeardley helped Alexander up the steps and into the spinning room, Isabelle drew near to Charlotte to explain the workings of the mill. Shouting over the noise of the machinery, she gave her new cousin a short overview of mill production and the work of the employees. Speaking of those whom Alexander’s business employed brought Isabelle a renewed sense of pride in his work.

Charlotte nodded politely now and then, but she seemed more interested in placing her hands over her ears to block out the sounds of the mill than in hearing Isabelle’s shouted explanations.

Edwin walked beside Alexander’s chair, bent over to hear his descriptions of all that lay before them. Isabelle watched Alexander gesture across the floor and point toward the upper stories, and she wondered yet again at the miracle of his regaining the use of his arms.

Within a few moments of entering, they were greeted by Mr. Connor, who called a momentary halt to the production. Isabelle noticed he looked haggard, his eyes shadowed and face thin.

“Mr. Osgood is here,” Mr. Connor shouted over the clanging and whirring of equipment rolling to a stop. The cry was taken up all across the floor, and men and women jostled and ran toward the middle aisle of the room so they could see him. Isabelle watched the faces of Alexander’s workers, many of whom seemed alight with joy at the idea of seeing him.

This had been the way they’d looked at him when she’d come with him before Doctor Fredericks’s recommendation to stay inside. Since that time, had the workers’ eagerness increased? Or was it an increase in her ability to understand and appreciate it? On the first visit with Alexander in the chair, certainly his employees