Fiction Narration Inspirational Period Romance Dialogue
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Partner had. He truly just used such an amicable word for this outrageous predicament. You're mistaken, Mister Prestwich. She said glad her voice was far calmer than her insides. If you think I welcome any partnership, then she strode past him crossing the room and taking a stand behind the counter. The fixture offered a b work for her. It's warm, smooth wood, something to latch on to hide behind, even lean against if need be. She removed her cape, pretending busyness by putting it where it did not belong on one of the shelves underneath. She must do something to spend her energy. And at the moment such inane movement was all she could think of. He followed with a confident smile and what she must reluctantly admit was a handsome face. She wanted to search his appearance for some resemblance to Charlotte, some glimmer of hope that a part of that dear woman, her kindness, generosity, humor, grace, or intelligence, but most of all, some hint of her faith resided in him. But Arianne refused to let her gaze do any more than sweep over him. It's true. I know nothing of you or the business. Your father built here. He told her. But I also know that one young woman such as yourself, he spared a glance at Phoebe and Binnie, even with a staff as obviously loyal as yours might find it difficult to run a business of her own. I can assure you, I'm not only well educated but experienced in the machinations of businesses far bigger than this. I could be of great assistance, having a vested interest in its greatest value. She narrowed her eyes at him and I can assure you we don't need any assistance. We're already quite successful. And credit for that goes to my father and to him alone, he taught me well how to carry on. Mr Prestwich. Brows rose and you alone plan to continue a grin, betrayed his lack of confidence in her claim. Forgive me for saying so, Miss Casterton, it is Miss, isn't it? But as I understand it, your father worked the mill by himself. You planned to take his place in the mill itself actually making paper. That's right. Her heart thrummed hard against her chest as if denouncing her own words, she could run the mill at half the speed of her father. If she ignored every other aspect of the business, Phoebe was already carrying on a loan in the shop without a raise in pay and Leo helped her when he could. But besides working over the vat, it had been her father who did everything from procure the best fibers to finding new customers in Cranbury, Williamsport, Philadelphia and even New York finding buyers outside the shop was one portion of the business she'd never done before. You know, Miss Casterton, Mister Prest, which's voice took on a softer tone, almost intimate. I met your father on more than one occasion though he obviously had his faults. He struck me as having some discernment, at least as far as choosing what he purchased from us. How is it? I wonder that you are so unlike him. The words pierced her particularly since the man had the audacity to refer to her father as if he had faults as obvious as his discernment. And how is it, Mr Prestwich that you are so entirely unlike your mother, she never would have allowed this inheritance to take place. Had she the power to change it? She knew the difference between fair and unfair.