The spinster and the wastrel (13 page)

'True, true." He handed her the steward's letter.

Annette read it slowly and carefully. The facts seemed to support the steward's request. She did not fully understand everything about this new machinery, but her impression was it would make the work faster, safer, and more productive. She did not know enough to question his assertions.

She handed the letter back to the solicitor. "I do not know enough to question his request. If you think it best, I agree with the purchase."

Mr. Keller steepled his hands. "This new machinery is probably well worth the expense, but you want to be careful that you do not agree to every request. That way lies to waste."

Her lips tightened at the admonishment. Waste was something never associated with her actions. "I am more familiar with my school than a mill."

"Yes." Mr. Keller wrote approved on the steward's letter before setting it aside. Then he turned his attention back to her. "How is your school doing?"

"The children are learning their alphabet and numbers. Some of them are already reading. I am very pleased with the results." She emphasized the last.

Mr. Keller pulled another sheet of paper from his stack. "The costs so far have not been unreasonable. The warehouse renovation was not as expensive as I had feared, and you obtained a good price on the stove."

His condescending attitude caused Annette to tighten her grip in her lap. "I had believed I could spend my money as I wished."

"Of course, of course." Mr. Keller wagged a playful finger at her. "But I would be remiss in my duties as a trustee if I did not oversee the expenses."

"The other trustees are satisfied. Indeed, the Reverend Browne is very pleased with the progress the children are making in their reading. He wants them to know their Bible."

"And the baronet?"

"He will probably help the successful students find a situation. The school's results are intangible, not to be

found in the balancing of pence." Annette hoped he would not question her more closely about the baronet's involvement. Sir Gerard had never said anything about finding positions for the boys.

"If that's how you wish to spend your money." Mr. Keller let the disapproving statement trail off, as he pulled a sheaf of papers from one of the piles on his desk. He handed them to her.

"What are these?" she asked.

"They are letters of appeal from a variety of charitable societies. Sir Nigel had no interest in such things, so I always threw the appeals out. Since you are interested in intangible results, I thought I should pass them along to you." The solicitor settled back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

Annette smoothed the papers. "I will review these and let you know my decision about them." She glanced through them briefly. "Obviously I handle the fortune differently than Sir Nigel expected, so I am still puzzled as to why he left it to me."

"Why question it? Isn't it enough that you are the heiress?"

She shook her head. "No, for I am starting to wonder if it was spite that is the cause of my good fortune."

"Hrnmm." Mr. Keller tapped his fingers together. "You are aware that the former baronet hated his heir." At her nod, he continued, "Sir Nigel never intended to let Sir Gerard get his hands on the money. He intended to leave him as penniless as possible. If not you, then someone else would be the recipient. You were always around, meddling, so he chose you."

"So it was spite."

"The reason does not matter. Look forward to all the good you plan to do, not backwards."

"The reason provides the foundation to the future." Her voice was so quiet, it was almost a whisper. "I wonder if I can do good when it is an injustice that made it possible."

A frown wrinkled the man's face. "What better result to an injustice than that good should result from it?"

"Perhaps, but I do understand Sir Gerard's frustration." She stood to take her leave. "I am not sure if I like being a part of such an injustice."

The solicitor patted her shoulder in a fatherly fashion. "Do not let it trouble you. It would bother no one else."

Later that evening, Annette and Lucille stitched garments to be distributed to the indigent babies of the village. Each woman bent close to the light of their shared lamp. Even though Annette kept the fire built up in the drawing room, she continued to practice frugality.

Tonight she wore a sensible dark blue gown. It still took some adjusting to the idea that a dress could be pretty and practical. Lucille had dressed in a new green one trimmed with a braid in a darker shade. An elegant shawl draped around her shoulders. No longer did it need to be clutched close for warmth.

The fire popped merrily from the sap in the wood. The smell of burning pine lightly scented the air.

"You did not tell me much about your drive with Mr. Linton yesterday," Lucille remarked.

"There was nothing to tell."

"He appears to be a very personable man."

Annette concentrated on placing her stitches in an even row along the sleeve seam. "I want more than a personable man in a marriage."

"Marriage!" Lucille dropped her work in her lap as she stared at her friend. "Do you mean he proposed to you?"

Annette bit her tongue—a few words too late. She had never meant to reveal Linton's offer. "Every single man proposes to me," she said bitterly. "But what they really want is control of my fortune."

"Every one?" Fascinated, Lucille questioned further. "How many offers have you received?"

"I have not kept count."

"I would have." The other woman picked the baby gown. "Why did you refuse Mr. Linton? I liked him well enough."

"He is nice enough for a party or a carriage drive," Annette conceded. "He appears shallow to me. Nothing interests him except for the London social round."

"It does sound like fun."

"Not as a way of life." Annette's firm tone contrasted sharply with the other woman's wistfulness.

The room grew quiet as the women returned to their sewing. Annette used the task in an attempt to banish her disappointment at Linton's offer. She wished the man existed who saw her and not the fortune when he proposed. Yesterday afternoon's echoing schoolroom showed how empty she was without a family of her own. Other people's children were not a substitute for a mate.

"If an ease in society is not what you want in a husband, then what are you looking for?"

Annette sighed. Plainly, once Lucille got a notion in her head, she would pursue it until satisfied. "I do not know ... I never actually drew up a list."

From the expression on Lucille's face, she expected to have a catalog of attributes recited on the spot. Annette continued, "He should be more than some ornament of the

haute ton. He should care about the plight of others and do something to help them."

Lucille sniffed. "You want a serious-minded reformer just like yourself."

Stung, Annette responded, "And what is wrong with that?"

"Such a man would be exactly the wrong type of husband for you. You don't need more noble sobriety in your life. You need gaiety or else you will grow into a very unhappy, severe woman."

Her words hurt, and Annette lashed back. "Gaiety? You think that should be my primary goal? It sounds like you would recommend Sir Gerard to be my husband."

Lucille's eyes widened. "Has he asked you yet?"

"Of course not. Unlike you, he knows I would never entertain such a notion."

"Hmmm." Pursing her lips, the other woman bent over her sewing.

Annette continued, "He would be an impossible choice. A man with no sense of responsibility towards others." A twinge of shame pricked her conscience at this proclamation.

It was not completely true.

"Does he make you laugh?"

The question momentarily threw Annette off balance. "Sometimes," she admitted. "Yet that is not enough for me."

"Laughter smoothes many a bump in a marriage," Lucille observed from her status as a widow.

"Yes, but I believe likemindedness reduces the number of bumps."

Her friend did not disagree. "The baronet would be a good catch for you."

For a silent moment, Annette finished stitching the sleeve into the garment. She cut the thread and threw the baby gown down on her lap. "I do not want him to think solely of the money," she burst out. "I want to be important to him, too."

"The money is hard to overlook," Lucille replied softly.

A small smile creased Annette's face. "I know. I find I cannot even overlook it myself." She leaned towards her friend. "Sometimes, I even wish I had not inherited that fortune."

Lucille stared. "But you are doing so much good with it! Why you have even started the school you dreamt of for so long!"

"Yes." Annette gazed into the flames flickering on the hearth. The fire warmed her on the outside, but within she remained hollow and cold. Not even to her closest friend would she reveal how little the students satisfied her need for a family of her own. Was it because an old man's spite had given her the opportunity?

Shaking off her pensive mood, she said brightly, "Jack is doing very well."

"Jack?"

"You know him. He is the oldest son of Tun Fanner who has the tenancy of Springwood farm."

When Lucille nodded, Annette continued, "Jack learned his entire alphabet within one morning's lesson. Already he is reading simple sentences, and he tries to make his writing very neat. Sooner than I anticipated, I will need to speak with Sir Gerard about finding a position for the boy."

"Perhaps you should not wait."

"What do you mean?"

"It might be wiser to alert the baronet of your plans.

Then he can begin to look around for a likely post that can be filled immediately."

Annette glanced sharply at the other woman, but her face was bent diligently over her sewing. She appeared a pattern card of industrious womanhood. Lucille was a woman without guile, and her momentary suspicions shamed Annette. Her friend would never be guilty of such blatant matchmaking attempts. "You are right. I should bring Jack to Sir Gerard's attention. It could be the boy's great chance in life."

"When will you go?"

'Tomorrow, after school lets out. It will not be too late to pay a call."

"You should not wait," Lucille assured her.

While she waited for the butler to announce her call to Sir Gerard, Annette wondered again if she was being hoodwinked by Lucille. Jack was just a beginner with his reading and writing. It might be a bit too soon to be looking for a clerkship on his behalf. Indeed, she had not even broached the possibility to him. Maybe the boy would not be interested.

Nonsense. She nodded firmly to herself. A clerkship would be his chance to better himself. Although his father, a good man, worked as a tenant farmer, Jack could do better for himself.

"Sir Gerard will receive you now," the butler said.

She followed him down the hall with its gleaming black and white marble tiles. The tables and chairs shone from the vigorous polishing of beeswax they now received. The clean smell signaled the refurbishing of the hall. The damp, which had been the regular state of the house during winter, was banished by a buildup of fires in

various rooms. The heat provided even seeped into the front entrance, where it warmed her face. Under the new master, Hathaway Hall gleamed. She could not help noticing how Sir Gerard honored his responsibilities. Hope for Jack's chances stirred within her.

In the drawing room, Sir Gerard stood at her entrance. "Good afternoon, Miss Courtney." To Newton, he placed a request for tea.

She returned his greeting and observed how he carefully placed her chair just the right distance from the fire. He did not seat himself until she was comfortable. Waiting for the tea to arrive, they conversed about his London life and some of her lighter village interests. He made her feel welcome in the way he paid attention to her remarks and responded to them. A far different effect than the one his uncle engendered within her whenever she called upon Sir Nigel. Inside, she felt her stiffness and wariness soften.

Once the tea had been poured and she had nibbled at her cake, Annette cleared her throat as she prepared to do battle on Jack's behalf.

"Is that the signal for the charge?" Sir Gerard asked.

At a loss, she stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"As much as I would like to pretend otherwise, I believe you have a habit of calling upon the current baronet with a list of demands."

She nearly choked on the crumbs of her cake. "I never make demands, sir. Only requests."

"What are your requests for this call?"

His eyes twinkled, and she realized he was teasing her again. Once more she had misread him. It made her fear that Lucille's assessment of her severe attitude might be correct.

She attempted to respond in a lighter tone. "I have only one request this time."

"Ah." Leaning back in his brocaded wing chair, Sir Gerard sipped his tea. "I almost fear one request more than a list. A single one may be more than I can handle."

Not for a moment did she believe this protestation. "One of my students is doing extremely well with his learning. Although he is the son of one of your tenants, I think a clerk apprenticeship would be appropriate for him. You could find such a position for him." Her speech was not the smooth presentation she had intended, but at least she managed to state everything.

He lifted an eyebrow. "How long has your school been opened?"

"Almost a month." She realized where his question was aiming. "I know it has only been opened a short time, but because he has learned so quickly, I am here on his behalf."

"Does he expect me to find him such a position?"

"No, I have not yet broached the matter to him."

With a troubled frown on his face, Sir Gerard set down his teacup. "I am glad of that. I would not want you to raise impossible hopes."

She feared the meaning behind those words. "Sir, Jack is an excellent student."

"I have no doubt of that. But, Miss Courtney, he is the son of a tenant farmer. Is it right to take him out of his class?"

Her lips tightened. "If he possesses the ability to do so, yes. God expects each of us to use the capabilities He has bestowed upon us."