Chapter 54 Return to London 16 Mass Line
Heather went up to the second floor and looked around for a while before finding Mrs. Victor, whom she had met in the millinery shop.
She was indeed the center of the social group, surrounded by five or six ladies dressed similarly to her, who were discussing something passionately by the window, attracting the attention of another lady at a nearby card table, who stretched her neck to join in their conversation.
"Mrs. Victor, nice to see you again." Heather pulled Mary over and said, "Do you remember me? We met at the milliner's shop on Bond Street last month, and you invited me to visit Chelsea."
Mrs. Victor could strike up a conversation with strangers everywhere. In the past month, she had spoken to at least 40 women, if not 50, and she had forgotten most of them when they parted ways. But this lady was different. Her appearance and temperament were not the kind that would be lost in the crowd. Moreover, she had a niece that Mrs. Victor admired.
"Oh my God! That's right! You're the one... I remember you. This is your niece, right? I remember she was 19 years old." Mrs. Victor enthusiastically took Mary's hand and said, "I like girls the most, but unfortunately, I only gave birth to sons. I have seven sons who are still unmarried. Do you remember?"
Heather also walked over with a smile. "Yes, my name is Heather Lawrence, and this is my niece Mary Bennett. I've remembered your words and have wanted to come to Chelsea for a while, but we live a little far away, and I've been busy lately, so I haven't had the time. It just so happens that Mrs. Mason invited us to the party, and I was wondering if I could run into you this morning."
There were not many unfamiliar faces in the Chelsea ladies' circle. Heather was outstanding in appearance but friendly in attitude, which quickly made the ladies around her take a liking to her, and they all came forward to introduce her in turn.
Their husbands run textile mills, steam engine factories, provide mechanical parts for railways and ships, and produce daily necessities. No wonder Mr. Crawford, who runs a canal management company, wants to hold a big party here. If all these people are put together, a business empire is no problem.
A lady curiously inquired about Mr. Lawrence's line of work. Heather didn't want to lie, and the tricks she'd use to deal with aristocrats might not be appropriate here, so she just vaguely replied, "Mr. Lawrence unfortunately died young. He was involved in some collectibles business. I've just returned to London, and my brother is in the trading business there."
The two wives' enthusiasm faded at the mention of "widow." While the nouveau riche didn't shy away from widowhood, the lack of a husband running a business meant no profit, no resources to exchange equally. However, industry also needed cheap raw materials to import and export to other countries, so her brother, a trader, gave her a few more points.
But Mrs. Victor didn't care at all. She liked lively atmosphere and could talk to anyone.
"Oh, dear me, I think making new acquaintances would certainly help you get over your grief. I was in the milliner's again some time ago, and I was going to ask Mrs. Smith for your address, but I've been so busy lately that I didn't think of it until I got back."
One lady looked at her enviously and said, "You're so worried because the brewery's business is so good this winter. I heard that the Xinxing factory alone ordered 20,000 to 30,000 barrels of beer during the New Year period. That's a huge income, at least 30,000 pounds!"
Mrs. Victor's eyes wrinkled with laughter. "Oh, not so much! It's all thanks to you friends who look after my business. But besides the winery business, what worries me most are my sons. Look, the young children are chatting on the terrace right now, but my eldest son is nowhere to be seen. He must be eating a roast leg of lamb at the dining table."
The other ladies did not want to join in her argument. Although they all had one or two unmarried daughters of marriageable age, they did not think highly of Mrs. Victor's eldest son.
The main reason is that Victor's eldest son, who should have inherited the winery, is not very smart. He is twenty years old and still plays and eats all day long. On the contrary, the second son, who is only fourteen years old, is very smart. Everyone speculates that Victor's winery will probably be handed over to the second son, but he is too young and it is not time to settle down.
The ladies smiled at each other and said, "I think you're just too tired from sorting out the account books and counting the money. You should get more rest."
Mrs. Victor couldn't help but complain, "I'm really getting impatient right now. Not only do I have to manage the cellars and inventory the ingredients in winter, but I also have to deal with holiday orders. Workers are bound to make mistakes when they're busy, and I've been so anxious lately that I often can't eat."
Heather thought that in addition to being exhausted, Mrs. Victor might also be suffering from menopausal endocrine disorders.
"It's normal to feel nervous in the bad winter weather," Heather said, taking the opportunity to calmly interject. "I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed lately, too. Mrs. Victor, you know how popular botany is lately? I consulted the wife of botanist Mr. Banks at a salon last time, and with her advice, I've been experimenting with some natural plant-derived essential oil aromatherapy. I've been feeling a lot better lately."
"Oh, I've seen this last name in some magazine. I've been in a bad mood lately. Does the aromatherapy you mentioned really work?" This is the wife of a cotton textile factory owner. Her family also made a lot of money this winter.
Heather took out a sachet from her sleeve and handed it to her. The sachet had a certain weight in her hand and was completely different from ordinary dried flower sachets.
Heather explained: "I made this myself. It contains natural minerals. Before I left the house, I dropped a few drops of homemade essential oil on the diffuser stone. Once it absorbed the fragrance, it slowly evaporated. The fragrance has remained unchanged until now."
Mrs. Victor took the sachet from her friend, opened it, and sniffed it carefully. "Yes, that's the smell. I smelled this light fragrance just now when Mrs. Lawrence came over. It's much better than the strong scents in the perfume shop."
Heather waited for them to take their turn looking at it before explaining in detail, "This is made with orange blossom and ylang-ylang. Orange blossom is common here, but ylang-ylang is a rare spice imported from Southeast Asia. We even got it from the Royal Botanical Society. Both plants have calming properties, so it's perfect for your dressing table or to carry around."
Mrs. Victor particularly liked the smell. After the sachet was returned to her, she held it tightly. "I may not feel the calmness for a while, but I really like the smell. Mrs. Lawrence, if there is any extra, could you please give me some? I can pay double the price."
Heather waved to Lena, who was standing far away, to come over and bring over a natural wood-colored woven cloth bag with a simple English trademark "H&D" printed on it. The trademark represented Heather and Dorothea. The bag contained a sachet, an exquisite brown bottle, and a small note.
"To be honest, I don't have a husband or children, and I often find my daily life boring. Lately, I've been thinking about opening an aromatherapy salon specializing in natural plant-derived essential oils for women. I don't know many people there, so I thought I'd invite you to come and support me when you're free. I'll give you this sample pack to try."
She took out a few more identical bags and handed them to the other ladies who were watching. These ladies were clearly inexperienced with the free trial tactic of attracting new customers, and they felt a little embarrassed to receive such novel and high-quality sachets for no reason. They all promised to visit her shop once she officially opened.
Mrs. Victor took the initiative to take the responsibility: "Mrs. Lawrence, don't worry. I have at least 10 good ladies in Chelsea. I promise to take them all with me in turn after you open your business."
After that, they began to discuss what an aromatherapy center was and what types of plant essential oils there were. Heather patiently explained to everyone, and when Mary was too busy, the two ladies pulled her over to participate in the Q&A session.
"Hey!"
Crawford walked to the outermost railing of the terrace with his drink in hand and stopped beside the motionless figure. He followed the figure's gaze upwards and saw Mrs. Lawrence, perfectly blending in with the ladies of Chelsea, having a harmonious discussion at the second-floor window.
"Tsk! It's so late, I thought you weren't coming." Crawford said with a playful expression.
Lancaster didn't even look at him: "Do you think I won't come and send people to guard the previous intersection?"
"Oh, hahaha, you caught me again." Crawford showed no shame at being caught peeping. "I'm just curious about what kind of woman you're interested in. And you have to admit, you spent too much time and attention on that lady. Acting as her lawyer, helping her find investment projects. And that Darcy, although I quite admire him, I'm really curious, what do you do for him?"
Lancaster glanced at him coldly: "You'd better not be too curious. You know, I have plenty of ways to make you unable to continue working and have to go home to be your heir."
Crawford immediately shut up. He knew very well how unconventional this guy, who was barely his childhood friend, was. Lancaster might really destroy his hard work.
But he was only quiet for a few minutes before he couldn't help but come over again. "One last question. I promise I'll never pry again. Can you tell me in confidence whether you're simply curious about Mrs. Lawrence, or do you have some other thoughts?"
His question was too extreme, and he took two steps back to avoid Lancaster's kick that broke his calf. However, Lancaster neither spoke nor moved. He continued to stare at the light on the second floor in silence in the darkness.
Just when Crawford thought he would never say another word, Lancaster spoke.
“It’s a goal.”
"Ah?" Crawford came forward fearlessly again: "What goal? Is catching up with her your goal? But you haven't taken any action, right? And I always thought your goal was to become a Supreme Court Justice. You used to be the kind of person who started reading cases as soon as you opened your eyes." Crawford was full of questions.
Lancaster loosened his tie and took a glass of wine from a tray carried by a passing servant. "Becoming Lord Chancellor was just a relatively challenging path I could find when I was aimless. Besides, the one who truly made this his family's mission has been dead for many years."
Speaking of this, Crawford also put away his playful smile. He hesitated for a moment and said, "I saw him when I went to Birmingham to inspect my factory two weeks ago."
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