Chapter 142 - Hundred And Forty Two
THE NEXT DAY...
The sun rays that streamed through the open window kissed every thing it touched with a warm golden glow. Stacks of ledgers, shipping manifests, and letters from merchants were arranged in neat piles on his large desk. The head worker of the main production floor stood before him, his facial expression deep with worry.
"Your Grace," the man said, his voice grave. "We are critically short on workers for the next batch of production. Five of them have gone on leave just this morning due to a mild spreading illness. And if you add those numbers to the ones that went home yesterday, and the day before that, the total is increasing. The number of available workers is dwindling fast."
Eric leaned back in his chair and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows where a headache was beginning to form. He looked at the worried man before him. Panic would solve nothing. He needed a clear, logical solution.
"First," he began, his voice calm and decisive, "put up signs on the main streets and at the port for temporary employment. Offer a fair wage. That should bring in some help to see us through this." He continued, "Second, tell any of the remaining workers who are experiencing even the slightest symptoms to go home immediately. We cannot risk them infecting the others."
He paused, then added, "Let Aiden know the estimated amount of money that would be enough for the proper medical treatment of all those who are on leave. The company will cover their expenses."
He finally looked up and met the head worker’s gaze. "And for the rest of you who are still healthy... do your best and take care of yourselves. That is all I can ask."
The head worker, who had been expecting a much harsher response, bowed his head in deep, genuine respect. "Thank you, Your Grace. We will do our very best."
Just as the man was about to turn and leave, the study door was thrown open with such force that it barged into the room, making both Eric and the head worker flinch in surprise.
"Your Grace!" Aiden shouted, his voice full of an urgency that was completely out of character for the usually composed aide. He was panting, his face pale.
"Aiden, you startled me," Eric replied, his voice laced with a slight annoyance. "What is it? You didn’t even knock. It’s unlike you."
"Your Grace," Aiden said again, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Something has gone very, very wrong. It is about the Duchess."
Hearing that the situation was about Delia, all of Eric’s annoyance vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp dread. He sat up straight in his chair and looked at the head worker. "You are dismissed," he said, his voice now a low, serious command.