The Unexpected Visitor
After an hour of test drive, Matthew returned to the factory and parked the car inside.
He turned off the engine by pulling the ignition lever back, and the once-thundering machine settled into a deep silence. A sense of accomplishment washed over Matthew as he sat there for a moment, letting the realization sink in. The workers, still buzzing with excitement, climbed out of the vehicle, exchanging wide-eyed glances and enthusiastic murmurs.
"That was… incredible," Ben finally said.
"I didn't think it was possible for a machine to move like that."
Matthew grinned, stepping out of the car and patting its hood. "Well, this is just the beginning," he said. "We've got a lot of fine-tuning to do, but I'd say she's ready for real production. But first, we are going to clean this beauty up."
Over the course of the test drive, the vehicle accumulated dirt mixed with the remnants of horse traffic on the snowy streets, leaving splatters of mud and streaks of grime along its once-pristine finish. Matthew led the workers to gather buckets of water, rags, and a few brushes he had around the factory.
"Let's give her the care she deserves," he said, rolling up his sleeves.
The workers, still riding high from the excitement of the test drive, eagerly joined in, scrubbing down the metal body, carefully wiping away the grime from the wheels, and polishing the chrome accents. The car's deep forest-green paint began to shine again, reflecting the factory lights as they meticulously restored it to its former gleam.
As they worked, the men couldn't help but exchange stories about the people they'd seen watching the car pass by, their stunned expressions and amazed gasps.
"Did you see old Mr. Peterson's face?" one of the workers chuckled. "I swear, he nearly fell over when he saw us drive by without a horse."
"Even the carriage drivers were wide-eyed," Ben added with a laugh. "They didn't know what to make of it!"
Matthew joined in the laughter. "It's only a matter of time before everyone in town gets used to seeing this. And soon, they'll be asking for one of their own. After all, this one doesn't poop."
The workers burst into laughter, slapping each other on the back as they continued wiping down the car's polished surfaces. It was a small joke, but it captured the spirit of what they had just achieved—a machine that broke the norms of everyday life, one that was self-contained, powerful, and, most importantly, clean.
As the laughter faded, Matthew took a step back, hands on his hips, and surveyed the gleaming car with pride.
"We are going to make a lot of these for sure. But to do so, we are going to need a copious amount of money."
"In that case, why don't you approach a robber baron?" Ben suggested.
"Robber baron?" Matthew furrowed. "What is that?"
Ben was slightly shocked when he heard that from Matthew. "You don't know? Robber barons are wealthy industrialists who control entire industries. Some say they're ruthless, but if it's money you need to start mass production, those are the kinds of people who can make it happen."
Matthew hummed in thought. "Well, who should we approach?"
"How about Fitzwilliam? He is the richest man in the country, he is a banker and has invested in nearly every major industry—railroads, steel, coal. If anyone has the means to fund a project like ours, it's him," Ben suggested.''
"I am familiar with the man," Matthew said. "Okay where do we see him?"
"I believe he has an estate not far away from here," Ben replied.
"I see…in that case let's go meet him in two days," Matthew declared.
***
Two days later, in Matthew's factory.
Matthew was working on a different model of automobile. There were schematics for trucks, pickup trucks, sedan, suv, cabriolet, coupe, and even motorcycles when Ben burst into the workshop, panting heavily, his face flushed with excitement and urgency.
"Mr. Hesh…you have to…there's a visitor," he managed between breaths.
Matthew looked up from his work, raising an eyebrow. "A visitor? Who is it, Ben?"
"I don't know but the carriage looked familiar. You'd know when you see it," Ben said urgingly.
"Fine," Matthew sat his pen down and walked over to the exit where he saw the carriage that Ben was referring to, and it was very familiar. It was the carriage that they almost ran into if he hadn't pressed the brake.
As the coachman hopped down from the familiar carriage, he approached with a respectful nod and opened the door with a practiced flourish. From within, a figure in an elegant dress emerged, stepping gracefully onto the ground.
The first to exit was a striking young woman dressed in a sophisticated yet understated black-and-white ensemble. Her attire was an exquisite blend of Gothic elegance and refinement, with lace trimmings and intricate embroidery on the bodice. Her dark hair was styled neatly, with a delicate black headpiece. Her eyes, bright and observant, scanned the surroundings with an air of quiet dignity as she stepped aside, folding her gloved hands in front of her with a practiced poise.
Then, from the depths of the carriage, a second woman emerged, and her presence commanded immediate attention. Dressed in a rich, opulent gown with deep, vibrant tones that contrasted beautifully against the subtle snowy backdrop, she radiated an aura of nobility. Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves, framing a face of refined beauty, her blue eyes clear and intense as they took in her surroundings. With a fur-lined coat draped elegantly over her shoulders and a glimmering pendant at her neck.
Matthew was stunned for a moment. He didn't expect that there would be a fine specimen in this world.
The coachman unfurled a rolled carpet from the carriage steps to the factory floor.
The noblewoman acknowledged her coachman's effort with a slight, graceful nod before stepping forward onto the carpet. Each step she took was deliberate, embodying both confidence and refinement. Her gaze shifted from the surroundings to Matthew, her intense blue eyes locking onto him with an expression of curiosity and a hint of amusement, as though she were intrigued by what she had come to see.
The young woman in black, her companion, followed closely, maintaining a respectful distance but keeping a watchful eye. She, too, took in the industrial environment, her expression one of quiet interest, though her posture remained perfectly poised.
Matthew, feeling the weight of their presence, straightened up and gave a respectful nod.
"Uhm…to whom do I owe the pleasure?" Matthew politely asked.
The noblewoman locked gaze with him and answered. "I'm Amber Fitzwilliam."
"Fitzwilliam?" Matthew repeated. So she is the daughter of Mr. Fitzwilliam.
"You were the one controlling that metallic beast two days ago, and I must say, I am intrigued in what I see. Is there a place in your factory where we could speak in private?"
"Well, there is my office," Matthew replied, gesturing toward a door at the far end of the factory floor. He quickly waved over Ben, who was still watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, and instructed him, "Please prepare some refreshments and bring them to my office."
Amber Fitzwilliam nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips as she glanced around the factory with genuine interest. "Lead the way."
Matthew led her and her companion through the workshop, the workers pausing momentarily to watch as the elegant visitors passed by. The stark contrast between the industrial, grease-stained surroundings and the finely dressed women felt surreal, and Matthew could feel the weight of the workers' curious stares.
Amber, on the other hand, saw the metallic beast that she saw two days ago. It was there, clean and pristine.
"Is this the same one?" she asked, turning to Matthew with a spark of excitement in her voice.
"Yes, that is what we drove two days ago," Matthew confirmed.
Amber nodded, her gloved hand reaching out to lightly brush against the smooth surface of the vehicle's hood.
"Miss…the office is here," Matthew called her over.
"Oh pardon for my distraction," Amber said softly and followed Matthew inside the office.
Once inside, Matthew motioned for Amber to take a seat. The office was simple, with a worn wooden desk covered in scattered blueprints and sketches of various mechanical parts. Amber's companion stood nearby, her gaze never straying far from Amber, as though she were ready to intervene at a moment's notice.
"Now then, Miss Fitzwilliam, what is the purpose of your visit to our workshop?" Matthew inquired.
"The purpose of my visit is simple, Mr? May I know the name of the person who built that elegant machine?"
"Matthew, Matthew Hesh," he replied.
"Mr. Hesh," she repeated, a faint smile touching her lips. "I see great potential in your machine, and I believe it could change the future of transportation. My family would like to offer assistance to help you bring it to the world. Would you be willing to accept my invitation to our estate? You could demonstrate your invention to my father."
Matthew's eyes widened slightly. This was precisely the opportunity he had been seeking.
"Miss Fitzwilliam, I would be honored to present my automobile to your father."
Amber inclined her head gracefully. "Excellent. I shall make the necessary arrangements. Please be prepared to visit us tomorrow afternoon at this address."
Her companion handed Matthew a card, written on it was the address to their estate.
"I look forward to seeing you at the estate, Mr. Hesh. Until then."