Maureen, shrewd, silver quick with money, appreciated Catherine’s qualities although she wished the younger woman was less beautiful.
“Have you ever attended mass?” Maureen asked as a well-dressed young servant poured tea.
“Yes. Mother took me once when we visited Philadelphia. Very dramatic, colorful, magical for a child.”
“Your mother must have been a woman of wide interests.”
“She had such curiosity about the world. She’d whisper to me that an Anglican was just a Catholic with an English accent.”
Maureen laughed. “There’s truth to that. Of course with Mother being Irish and Father Spanish not only did I go to mass, I was schooled by nuns. Oh, they were so strict.” She shook her head. “Much of the Caribbean is Catholic, most of the New World is except for America and Canada.”
“This room shines. You have a touch.”
Maureen beamed. “Color, fabrics, furnishings. Mother trained me to look for proportion, color, harmony. She would say, ‘Fashion is one thing but be cautious. You don’t want to look like everyone else!’ ”
“Indeed.” Catherine liked that thought.
“Did you, John, and Ewing go to church this morning?”
“Roads were treacherous but we managed. Father says it makes him feel close to Mother.” Catherine nibbled a tiny meat pie. “Wonderful.”
“High praise from a woman who has the best cook in Virginia. Bettina is a treasure.” She paused. “A treasure with many opinions.”
They both laughed for Bettina was not shy, but she was smart enough to keep much to herself. Then again, people expected an outgoing cook.
“Do you know, driving over here, I realized you and I have never been alone to chat,” Catherine remarked. “I have always been curious as to your farsightedness concerning things like the foundry down by the James, your surprising and successful importation of French fabrics, even some Italian ones.”
“Father entertained ships’ captains. He would pose questions to the Englishman, the Frenchman, the Spaniard, his countrymen. He would inquire about where the aristocrats were putting their money. This provoked a laugh because have you ever met an aristocrat or a royal who could turn a profit? But of course their managers must or they would get the sack. And my father was trusted by these captains to handle their money. I listened. I was usually in the next room pretending to embroider with the governess, after they would leave, I asked my father questions.”
“Seems we both learned from intelligent men. Quietly, of course.”
Maureen nodded. “It would never do for a woman to discuss business but I learned how to work through Francisco.” She inhaled. “That could be a chore. My late husband thought he knew everything.” She lifted a bit of crust with her fork. “My current angel has no head for business. I tell him what to do and he readily does it. I must add that he does understand timber whereas I, from the islands, am weak in that crop, if you will. He is a sweet man, Jeffrey.”
“And so handsome. The two of you together make a fine pair,” Catherine complimented her, and it wasn’t an outright lie.
“You are too kind.” She changed the subject. “What do you and your father hear from France?”
Catherine knew Maureen had her own sources as they both did business with the French. Maureen was double-checking.
“Great uncertainty. The foreign minister, de Vergennes, has died. Those with whom we trade are beginning to ask for us to extend their terms. And my father’s friend from his Grand Tour, Baron Necker, writes that Calonne, all bombast and twaddle, his exact words, can’t settle the crown’s debts.”
Maureen stared at Catherine, her hazel eyes bright. “No one can, my dear. Not even Crassus could solve their problems.”
She named the richest man in Rome during the time of Julius Caesar.
“Ah, so you, too, have heard.”
“My father did brisk business with bankers in Paris and I have kept many of them as friends. Mostly through their wives, of course, but one does learn, one does learn. This king is unkingly. Now, Louis XV was every inch a king.”
“So I have heard.”
“Mother and Father took me to Paris as a young girl, just on the cusp, so to speak, and I saw the king. Impressive, as were his mistresses.” She lifted an eyebrow. “No wonder the treasury is low.” She couldn’t help but laugh.
“We may well have to endure losses, but strange to say, Yancy Grant wants to create horse races down on The Levels with large purses. He mentioned in passing to Father that we had best find other sources of income.”
“Did he now?” Maureen loathed Yancy, who insulted her husband and wound up in a duel with him.
“You have suffered from his drunken rage.” Catherine meant that. “But he may have come up with something worth examining, which is looking to ourselves as opposed to Europe.”
Maureen, turning this over in her mind, nodded but said nothing.
They ate in silence until Catherine said, “You know that Bettina and DoRe are courting.”
“Yes.”
“We shall have to hope for the best.”
Noncommital, Maureen shrugged. “We’ll see. I have endured enough uproar on this estate from slaves.” As Catherine said nothing, she continued. “But I will bear in mind what you have said about not looking toward France or England.”
“Well, I think you have the answer right here.”
“I do?”
“Look at the beautiful coach Jeffrey built. He borrowed ours, reproduced it, and made one even better.”
Maureen’s eyebrows shot upward. “Yes, he did.”
“To find a good coach one must go to Philadelphia or import one from England or from the Continent. Much too expensive and now unreliable. If you can keep a foundry going, this ought to be easy.”
Maureen, shorn of sentiment, knew better than to ask “What’s in it for you?” but she circumnavigated the direct questions. “However did you come up with this idea, which I must think about?”
Catherine smiled. “We are both women who understand profit, one must grow. And I think Yancy is right. What beautiful horses will pull your coaches, phaetons, gigs?”