Читать книгу Mrs Sommersby’s Second Chance - Laurie Benson, Laurie Benson - Страница 12

Lane stood in the cellar of the coffee house that he had purchased with his friend and business partner the Earl of Hartwick and looked over at the man in question, who was holding a glass of hot mineral water up to the sunlight that was streaming in through the window.

‘When I told you to go to Bath because you might find something that would interest you, I didn’t mean the water,’ Hart said, narrowing his sharp blue eyes and taking a cautionary sniff of his glass.

‘I know what you meant.’

‘Women, not water. I meant go to Bath to find a woman...or two. I’m not one to judge. But this water...are you certain it is safe to drink?’

‘I had a glass of it myself only yesterday and I am here today.’

Hart peered at Lane over the glass. ‘Yes, but you appear agitated. I have no wish to become agitated.’

‘I am agitated because you have yet to tell me if you agree that turning this coffee house into a spa is a wise business decision,’ he replied in a clipped tone.

‘People truly do drink this hot water that smells like a pocketful of pennies?’

‘The room was full of people paying five pence per glass to drink it.’

‘And they go there every day?’

‘Some do and drink multiple glasses. And some bathe in the hot thermal water as well.’ Lane dug his hands into the pockets of his green-linen coat. ‘How is it that you were the one to tell me to go to Bath and yet you know nothing about the hot springs or the Grand Pump Room?’

Hart arched his brow. ‘In the seven years that you have known me, do I truly look like a person who would bathe with strange old men in ancient pools or drink water that appears to have been boiled with currency?’

‘Well, no, not really.’ Lane shifted in his stance.

‘Then what makes you believe I know anything about the water here?’

Lane had been introduced to Hart by Lord Boundbrooke, who was on the board of the Foundling Hospital and had helped secure Lane’s apprenticeship at a bank when he left the Hospital. In the years following, he had kept his eye on Lane and had told him that he thought both Lane and Hart would benefit from a friendship with each other. He was right. In Hart, he had found a rare aristocrat who didn’t care that Lane did not come from a family of consequence or that he didn’t even know what family he came from at all. But even though he was very fond of the man, there were times Hart could try his patience.

‘You must know of the reputation of the town, Hart, and you’ve seen the numerous visitors that come here by the thousands because of water such as that.’

Hart brushed a lock of his black hair out of his eyes. ‘Do I really have to drink this?’

‘Not if you don’t want to.’

‘What I’d prefer is a nice glass of brandy somewhere where we can discuss this further.’

Lane motioned to the white-skirted table with two chairs that was tucked against the stone wall and Hart followed. He broke out into a broad grin when Lane reached under the table and produced a bottle of brandy and two glasses.

‘You knew I wouldn’t drink the water.’

‘I suspected as much and, even if you had, you would need this to wash the taste out of your mouth.’

‘If that water is so vile, why are all these people drinking it?’

‘Because they firmly believe that that water is going to cure all their ailments.’

‘And, do you believe that?’

‘I am keeping myself open to the possibility.’

Hart poured himself some brandy. ‘Then why not just operate a place for people to come to drink the water? Why do we need to purchase the hotel as well?’

‘If we don’t offer bathing as well, it might not be enough of an incentive to draw people here. They could very well continue to go to the spas where they can have a drink and bathe. And, more importantly, there is more money to be made from people bathing in the water. Look here.’ He took out a paper with his financial calculations from his pocket and laid it on the table. ‘I stood outside the King’s and Queen’s Baths and counted how many people went in over a two-hour period this morning. I used that number to estimate how many people go in each day.’ He pointed to the number of people and then the column beside it. ‘This is how much they charge for a person to take to the waters there and this is how much money they might have made today. It is not an accurate number, mind you, but it is a logical estimate.’

Hart’s blue eyes widened as his gaze travelled across the numbers. ‘Surely that can’t be right?’

‘It is. I tell you, we need to expand. It is the logical thing to do. We need to buy The Fountain Head Hotel and then construct a bathhouse on the property. It is as if divine providence has given us a gift with that water for a reason.’ He leaned in and rested his forearms on the table. ‘Hart, we could make enough money to start that racecourse you and I have dreamed about. The one that will rival Ascot.’

He knew that the mention of horses would be enough of an enticement to grab his friend’s interest in the project. They had been business partners for seven years. The investments he had orchestrated for them allowed his friend to live on a very nice income and not have to rely solely on his winnings at the gaming tables to support himself and now his wife as well. He knew Hart trusted his business sense, but he could still be unpredictable at times.

Lane rubbed his hand across his chin and waited.

‘While we might be able to afford to purchase the hotel,’ Hart said, ‘we certainly can’t afford the hotel and the construction of the bathhouse. Not after buying this place only weeks ago.’

‘Do you have any ideas?’

Hart took a sip of his brandy and then stared down into his glass as if he would find his answer there. ‘Sarah and I are staying with Lyonsdale and his family for a few days. I will mention it to him tonight and, should he be interested, I will arrange a meeting with the three of us. You can lay this plan of yours before him then.’

Lane rubbed his hand on his thigh as if he were rubbing out a spot on the soft buckskin of his breeches. He didn’t want to have to wait to settle this matter. He wanted to approach the owner of the hotel now and begin searching for an engineer competent in the systems they would need to manage the flow of water. He would need a survey of the property next door to present to the engineers. But he couldn’t do any of that until he knew how much money they had at their disposal.

While Hart with his charm and pedigree was perfect at enticing investors to fund their projects, Lane was infinitely better at executing them—and this plan was exceptional. It was easy money. Once the new spa was complete, it would practically run itself. He would hire a competent manager and return to London in search of his next financial investment.

The Duke of Lyonsdale had helped them fund a few of their larger business ventures in the past. He would certainly see the potential in this one. If only Lane did not have to wait so long for his answer.

‘How much money do you think Lyonsdale will be willing to give us?’

Hart gave a slight lift of his shoulder. ‘How much money do you think we will need? I’m sure you have a number in mind.’

Lane pointed to another number further down the page.

Hart’s brows rose. ‘Yes, we will definitely need help with that. Let me see what I can do and I will let you know what he says.’

As he stood to leave, Lane checked his watch.

‘What time is it?’ Hart asked.

‘Half past three.’

‘I should be off. I’ll send word to you in the morning on the outcome of our discussion. In the meantime, don’t look at any more properties. We can’t afford for you to get another one of your brilliant ideas.’

‘I won’t. This idea has my full attention. I think I’ll go for a walk. After spending a good part of my afternoon in this dusty space, I could use the fresh air.’

‘Lyonsdale is up near the Royal Crescent. You might want to explore that area. I don’t believe there are any businesses to distract you.’

‘I’ll consider it.’

‘You might even consider finding a woman or two. That should keep you out of trouble until you hear from me.’

‘I have better things to do.’ But even as he said it, an image of the woman from the Pump Room popped into his head. He consciously pushed thoughts of her aside. ‘I’m determined to find a way to improve the productivity here at the coffee house. There is no sense in missing an opportunity to increase our income with this property until we change it to a spa.’

‘If we change it over to a spa.’

‘When we change it. I have faith that you will find a way to get us the money that we need.’

‘We shall see.’ Hart downed the rest of his brandy. ‘Even if we get the money, what makes you believe the owner of The Fountain Head Hotel will be interested in selling it to us? I’ve heard it’s the finest hotel in Bath and a haven for single gentlemen. With all the unmarried men visiting this town, it must turn a pretty profit.’

‘They’ll sell it. I’m good at brokering deals such as this and I want that property.’