And then it hit him. Someone, he assumed the new tenant, had kindly moved his property back to his side of the wharf.
For a moment Francis was tempted to simply leave his property where it was or instruct some of his shipping staff to move the barrels inside and out of the way, but his stubborn mindset whispered another solution.
Start as you mean to go on. Don’t make them feel the least bit welcome.
Whoever these people were, Francis had to get them out of the way and quick smart. His heart raced as nervous adrenalin pumped furiously through his body. Mouth dry and on the edge of losing his composure, he hastily considered his options. Conclusion? This called for drastic action.
If he could make life difficult for the new tenants, then perhaps they might come to realize that London Docks wasn’t for them. There were plenty of other places where they could berth their lion-headed ship. They can take their peculiar little boat and find a new home for it.
Without another thought, Francis bent and picked up a pile of ropes, and carried them back to outside the front of number fourteen. He threw them on the ground. The rest of the barrels and ropes quickly followed.
When he was finished, Francis silently congratulated himself as he stood wiping the dust from his hands. If anyone had an issue with what he had done, they could come to his front door and take it up with him.
But you had better come prepared for a fight.
As far as he was concerned, it wasn’t anything personal; it was just business. And when it came to business, Francis Saunders approached everything like it was a war.
There could only be one winner.
Chapter Six
Poppy sat back in her favorite chair and rubbed her eyes. She was exhausted. The proposal had taken her all afternoon and most of the evening to prepare, but it was finally done.
She had double-checked her calculations, making certain that they not only reflected a fair price, but one which allowed her to make a solid profit. Her father had taught her that commercial contracts which were based on mutual benefit always lasted the longest. Trust was something Poppy valued highly.
“Now just to add in the final details of the Basden Line Shipping Company and put father’s stamp on the signature.”
Her stomach gave an unwelcome growl of protest. She hadn’t eaten anything since scoffing down a stale bread roll just after the Empress Catherine had berthed earlier that day. The only sustenance she had managed over the subsequent hours were the countless cups of strong, black coffee which she had brewed on the ship’s galley stove.
Poppy was tired, but she was also wide awake. The tremble in her fingers confirmed that she was more than a little edgy after all that caffeine.
From the desk drawer of the tiny captain’s cabin, she retrieved a small ebony wooden box and opened it. Inside were several pieces of paper, including the official notices of her legal capacity to sign on behalf of her father, George Basden. There were also three stamps and accompanying wax seals.
After selecting the one which had her father’s name and address on it, she inked the stamp and carefully placed it at the bottom of the contract proposal. She then added her own signature to the document. She wondered how much longer she would be able to manage the company affairs in such a manner. As an unwed woman she could sign these papers, but the moment she married Jonathan, her legal standing ended.
Poppy stared at the paper, waiting for the ink to dry. This wasn’t the first contract she had pitched for, but it was, to all intents and purposes, the most important. Her father wouldn’t arrive in England for another year. He had made it clear that in the meantime, he was trusting Poppy to get things up and running. To have a firm base established by the time he finally did make it to London.
As soon as the paper had dried, she neatly folded it, then sealed the document with wax. “It’s done. Now just to deliver it and have the lodgment time stamped. Then I might actually get some sleep.”
She pushed back the chair and slowly, stiffly, rose to her feet. Her tired muscles joined her stomach in making their protest.
With both hands placed carefully in the small of her back, Poppy leaned backwards and stretched. Head turning from side to side, she sought to loosen the kinks and knots that long hours at the desk had created. “Oh, that’s so tight. I would love a hot bath to ease my aches and pains.”
Now that’s an idea. I could put a bath in the warehouse. There is plenty of room for one.
It didn’t need to be anything fancy—just a copper tub, which could be carried outside and emptied after its use. The mere notion of actually being able to soak and relax in hot suds sent a smile to her lips.
A bath would be pure heaven. It would also be a major step up from what Poppy was used to making do with for her daily ablutions while onboard the ship. Long sea voyages required the steadfast use of a wet cloth and a small amount of precious fresh water to keep oneself clean.
Poppy sighed. “All that hot water would be so lovely.”
She made a mental note to locate a suitable bathing spot at the back of the ground floor of the warehouse. A place which she could claim for herself.
That idea got her to thinking about how best to utilize the space. “There should be plenty of room for some walls to be erected so I can have a spot of privacy. The front of the warehouse can still be a functioning office.”
If she was going to spend the next year living in the warehouse, she may as well be comfortable.
But before she could start thinking about where rugs and a comfortable sofa would fit, Poppy had a tender bid to deliver. She checked her pocket watch. It was a little after ten, which still gave her plenty of time to line up at the superintendent’s office and submit her proposal before the deadline.
