Chapter 3: The Man Who Arrived on Time
“Where have you been? Everyone’s waiting! I only sent you off to clear your head, not to disappear completely,”
Rufus grumbled, urging his master along. Christopher, who was never late for appointments, had somehow shown up only as the party was about to begin.
“The Prime Minister’s waiting too, and Miss Cecil has asked about you several times,”
Rufus’s nagging showed no signs of stopping.
“Behave yourself with Miss Cecil. After all, you’re engaged to her,” he added.
“You’re not my nanny. I don’t need advice like that,” Christopher replied curtly, and Rufus sighed.
“Sir, please listen to me today. The nun came all the way here begging to see you. It’s giving me a headache.”
“The nun came?”
Christopher asked sharply, and Rufus tilted his head in response.
“Nothing’s changed from last time. The only difference is this time she begged on her knees.”
Christopher paused while adjusting his bowtie in the mirror. A faint scratch marked the nape of his neck.
The party had drawn the Prime Minister, cabinet ministers, and nobles—a gathering ground for discussing interests and making deals.
“Lord Belmore, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,”
“Prime Minister,”
The Prime Minister’s mouth fell open at the sight of Christopher.
“I hear you acquired the glass factory in Averie? Impressive business acumen.”
Lord Belmore had amassed immense wealth like those who had crossed to the New World, all while hailing from a long-established noble family.
“I judged that abolishing the tax on glass would increase demand,” Christopher said modestly, giving credit to the Prime Minister.
It was true that the information he’d obtained from the Prime Minister was useful—and the Prime Minister was still seeking re-election. He would continue to be a source of valuable information.
“Everyone’s been hoping for the tax to be abolished,”
The Prime Minister sipped his champagne, pretending not to notice, and Christopher nodded.
He was steadily consolidating power, much like his grandfather Archibald had.
“There’s a lot of public concern that the exposition might face delays,”
The Prime Minister fiddled with his glass. Countries had recently been competing to host world expos. Hobert himself had declared plans to host one, but the schedule was extremely tight.
“At this rate, we might end up opening the exposition in nothing but tents,”
He was essentially hinting that someone should provide help—whether money, materials, or even bricks.
“An architect I know might be able to make it work,”
Pouring money into engraving names on bricks would have been foolish. Christopher had long learned that giving someone something they couldn’t easily obtain made them grateful.
“Who is it?”
“An architect named Joseph Paxton.”
“Never heard of him,”
The Prime Minister frowned. Christopher, as if anticipating this, added,
“He has exceptional talent for creating the most beautiful results in the shortest time under limited conditions.”
The words “shortest time under limited conditions” caught the Prime Minister’s attention, and he approved the suggestion.
As soon as the Prime Minister finished speaking, Miss Cecil Hobert, who had been mingling with friends, shyly approached.
“Father, are you stuck talking politics with Lord Belmore again?”
The combination of a powerful man’s daughter and a handsome young noble drew everyone’s eyes.
“Lord Belmore, it’s been a while,”
Cecil smiled shyly at him.
“Miss Hobert, thank you for coming,”
Christopher lightly kissed the back of her gloved hand.
“Shall we take a walk?”
“The old mansion transformed so beautifully. It’s wonderful,” Cecil replied eagerly.
The Prime Minister watched the pair with satisfaction. Belmore, from the North, was far more desirable than any local noble.
The North, once considered barren and worthless, had changed. Factories now filled the land, and its minerals were treasures.
The Belmore Hotel, built to shed the North’s “potato” image, made Christopher the most famous man in the capital.
The engagement to Cecil was merely a polished tool to tie money and politics together.
Walking in the garden, Christopher suddenly produced a small velvet box.
“What’s this?”
Inside lay an emerald necklace, gleaming like the color of Cecil’s eyes.
“I wanted you to see it first,”
“It’s beautiful!”
The size and design were regal, as if from a queen’s treasury.
“It’s a gift for the Hobert family.”
Cecil allowed him to fasten it around her neck. Christopher handled the clasp expertly.
“A man the queen would have envied if she had a daughter,”
He always acted in accordance with his noble destiny, and Cecil had often been charmed by him. She toyed with the necklace to create a romantic moment, but for him, it was nothing more than tedious patience.
The tense atmosphere was broken by a voice urgently calling for Lord Belmore.
“Lord! Ah, you’re with the lady,”
“It’s fine. What is it?”
He even seemed to welcome Rufus’s interruption. Cecil felt like she had caused the disruption, but she stepped back gracefully, confident that there was no need to rush.
“It seems you have urgent business, so I’ll take my leave,”
He didn’t hesitate.
As soon as they left the garden, Christopher asked Rufus,
“Rufus, where on earth did you get the necklace?”
Pressing his temple as if in pain, Christopher listened to Rufus’s casual reply:
“Don’t blame the store. I carefully chose it from the most famous jewelry shop in Hatton Garden.”
“I hoped for something more refined,”
“Then why didn’t you pick it yourself? You need to show at least that much effort in a romance,”
“You think I’m doing this because I want to date?”
Rufus huffed, resigning himself.
“You’d make an excellent actor. With that face and talent, you could raise funds for ten orphanages in a charity performance,”
Ignoring Rufus’s sarcasm, Christopher gave orders in a businesslike tone.
“Call Joseph Paxton tomorrow. We’re going to the Prime Minister’s residence.”
“Already browbeaten, have we?”
Rufus clicked his tongue.
The meeting for the design competition of the world exposition was tense. Joseph Paxton, introduced by Belmore, presented an audacious plan.
“It’s just a greenhouse? And where will all that glass come from?”
Michael Lotz, Minister of International Development, voiced his opposition openly. The Prime Minister cleared his throat. It was Christopher’s turn.
“We live in the age of iron. Brick buildings won’t make an impression,”
A murmur spread among the attendees. This was the moment Christopher’s goal—endorsing Paxton—was about to succeed.
“Our Belmore company has recently succeeded in mass-producing large glass panels. We will supply them at reduced margins for the exposition,”
The assembly awaited his words. Though profits would be reduced initially, the publicity from the completed exposition would be invaluable.
His single statement resolved the previously chaotic meeting, even addressing budget concerns, leaving no room for objection.
After the meeting, the Prime Minister, pleased, called Christopher aside.
Christopher expected discussions about Cecil or the exposition, but he was mistaken.
“The convent… when will you get rid of it?”
Christopher’s eyebrows twitched.
Though Prime Minister Hobert had facilitated the hotel’s construction, he had no right to meddle in such details.
“The nuns sent endless letters. That Phil Gordon sniffed it out, the wretched man,”
If Phil Gordon, the Prime Minister’s political opponent, acted, it would be different. His attacks would first target Belmore, then the Prime Minister supporting him.
The Prime Minister spoke so quietly that Christopher had to lean in.
“He’s telling other members that your daughter’s fiancé is threatening poor nuns,”
“That matter—”
Before Christopher could respond, the Prime Minister continued,
“Come November, it will be addressed in Parliament. Phil Gordon is investigating who prevented the convent from officially housing orphans.”
The Prime Minister’s expression had turned serious.
Even though the St. Margarita Convent met all the requirements, it could not obtain approval. The convent’s funding had been blocked to pressure them through the children—Belmore’s strategy—and the Prime Minister’s involvement would inevitably be revealed.
But Phil Gordon? Christopher had to admit the nuns had found a suitably powerful protector.
“Lord Belmore, I want this handled quietly. Ensure the convent is silenced,”
“Understood, Prime Minister,”
Only then did the Prime Minister relax.
“The gift for my daughter was splendid,”
“It’s modest,”
“She seems to think highly of you, and so do I. Soon, I’d like to go riding with you both…”
“I’ll prepare a fine horse. One she’ll truly like,”
The Prime Minister smiled in approval.
Christopher returned to the hotel with Joseph Paxton, who could barely contain his excitement.
“Thanks to you, Sir, I’ll be designing the exposition hall…”
“You’ll thank me properly once the complete design is finished. You’ll have workspace in the hotel penthouse,”
Adjusting his glasses, Joseph stammered,
“The penthouse is your office, isn’t it?”
“For now, I’ll stay in the cheapest room. I need to inspect the hotel,”
Inspectors determining the hotel’s rating would stay in the cheapest rooms to test the services, and Christopher planned to do the same.
“Sir, what about meals? The nuns requested to see you again,”
Rufus placed the key to Room 301 on the console.
“I’ll review the business reports in my room. And as for the nuns…”
The room was decent, except for the view of the convent attic.
“Don’t let them in.”
The convent’s fate had just been sealed by the Prime Minister’s reprimand.
