Degrees of Hope (9 page)

As such, whilst the others were just finishing breakfast when James appeared at half past nine, they were all still seated at the table.

Martha smiled as kindly as she could as she greeted him, because she could see that even walking was difficult for him today.

James wished a 'good morning' to those present, then Lucien directed him to the buffet table, where the food was kept hot with candles below the serving dishes, for the family to serve themselves from, at their leisure.

Martha directed the children to leave. Charity expected to go to her lessons, so she left happily; the boys were also happy to go out riding and although Hope looked disappointed, she went with them.

James was ravenous but he tried not to put too much food onto his plate, lest he appeared rude.

“Take as much as you'd like,” Lucien said, knowing that James had missed dinner. “We've all finished, so it'll go to waste if you don't eat it.”

James piled his plate higher and Martha was pouring him a cup of tea as he sat down. She then refilled her and Lucien's cups.

Martha and Lucien made small talk about the estate whilst James ate so that he didn't feel uncomfortable, but when he had finished eating, he broached the subject of the bet.

“It appears I owe you an apology,” James said graciously. “And 10 pounds, of course.”

“You can leave aside the money, if you can tell me that you have learned something from yesterday's exercise.”

“You are absolutely right,” he said. “Women obviously are much stronger than I have given them credit for. Work such as that would quickly do me in, I'm sure. I can hardly believe that a thirteen year old girl can manage that.”

“And the workload of our servants is actually lighter than it is in other houses.”

“Really?” he looked surprised. “I have to say, I am quite shocked. I don't believe there is one man of my acquaintance who could do such work on a regular basis.”

“Of your class perhaps,” Lucien interceded. “Unless you know no working men at all, I assure you that you do know some who work just as hard, perhaps harder.”

“Yes, I suppose farm labour must be intensive,” James agreed. “I must say, I find this all fascinating. Every gentleman should be required to do some manual labour. We don't really know that we've been born.”

“Have you revised your opinion on the vote for women at all then?” Martha asked.

James sipped his tea to give himself time to think.

“I must confess, Martha, I still do not believe that women have the intellect to make important decisions for themselves.”

“Would you call me unintelligent?” Martha asked.

“Well, no, of course not, but then you are an educated lady. Most women do not have your brains, even if they can work as hard as a man. I dare say that the work I did yesterday would surely be as hard on you as it was on me.”

“That's where you're wrong,” Martha said seriously. “I first entered this house when I was ten years old, and I was the scullery maid back then. I worked that job for two whole years before I was moved up.”

“You worked as a scullery maid!”

“Indeed. I have the manners of the gentry only because I practised, and I never went to school or had a governess; my education is all self-taught, through reading.”

James tilted his head, a small smile playing at his lips as he wondered if she were teasing.

“It's true,” Lucien agreed with Martha. “She is as fine a lady as I have ever met, but she has not an ounce of blue blood in her.” He smiled over at Martha and she returned the smile, because she knew his words to be a compliment rather than an insult. He despised the women of his own class, who were little more than compliant slaves to duty and any male in the vicinity.

“But you are the illegitimate daughter of a Scottish Lord, are you not? Descended from Charles the First?” James asked.

“Indeed I am not.” Martha smiled at him as the memory amused her. “I am the eldest daughter of a local family. My mother lives in a cottage on the estate, and my father died many years ago of alcohol poisoning. Most of my siblings perform manual labour, although I do have one sister who is now a teacher, and another who is in debtors' prison.”

“Why didn't you pay his debt off?” he asked, although that was far from the most salient point at the moment.

“Because the debt he owes is to me. It's a complicated story but suffice to say, he was complicit in hurting a member of my family. I paid him and my father to leave, with the penalty of 100 pounds should either of them ever contact their family again. My father died long before the money had run out, but my brother came crawling back when it was gone.”

“So you jailed him?”

“He had chances, James, but he never took them, seemingly determined to follow in our father's footsteps, causing pain and misery wherever he went. I did not take the decision lightly but in all good conscience, I couldn't allow him to prey on anyone else, my family or otherwise.”

“So why does everyone think you are descended from royalty?”

“Because Lucien's mother once tried to halt our relationship, by letting it be known that I was a former housemaid. A good friend of mine circulated the erroneous rumour in the hope of saving my reputation. Illegitimate daughters of nobility are far more interesting than housemaids, so his story was believed over the truth.”

“I don't know quite what to say,” James admitted.

“I'm not asking you to say anything,” Martha replied. “I merely ask that you not only look at the world around you, but also see what is truly there. The work of a housemaid was there for you to see, if only you had chosen to look, and the true intelligence of women, from any class, is there for you to discover, if you are open to it.”

James' neat little world view was being turned on its head and he didn't know how he felt about that. Martha's revelation that she was working class had truly shocked him, for although some of her behaviour was unladylike, her whole attitude said that she was of noble birth.

“Perhaps you might like to visit the estate school before you leave,” Lucien suggested. “Martha's sister is a teacher there, and you can see for yourself what children of both sexes can achieve, when given the chance of a proper education.”

“Yes,” James agreed. He still wasn't willing to believe that women were his equals, but he was willing to question his beliefs, just to be certain that he was correct. “I think I might like that.”

Chapter Nine

Hope was fuming, not only because she missed out on seeing James eat humble pie, but her mother had also told her that she must show him the estate school. No matter that he had failed the challenge her mother set him, Hope still wasn't looking forward to spending an hour or more in his company. Anyone that prejudiced must surely be flawed in many other ways too, she thought.

It also meant that she wouldn't get a chance to ride today, which did nothing to improve her mood.

Nevertheless, she had finally agreed because her mother seemed insistent.

She took the gig to pick James up, since using a carriage and a driver seemed excessive; there was no need to put anyone else out. MacDuff trotted alongside the gig, though if she hadn't been picking James up, she would have allowed the dog to sit beside her for the journey.

To her surprise, James was waiting for her as she pulled into the driveway. He tipped his hat in greeting and climbed up next to her.

“Miss Beaumont, how wonderful it is to see you again.”

“And you,” Hope managed to say, for she had promised her mother that she would do her best to be polite.

“So, where is this school?” he asked.

“On the main road into Marchwood.”

“Is it large?”

“Reasonably. It has around 60 pupils.”

“Who is the headmaster?” he asked.

Hope gave him a sidelong glance.

“Headmaster?” she laughed. “This is not Eton or Harrow that you are going to see, Mr Ashdown. This is a charitable school for children whose parents would not otherwise be able to afford an education. There are only two teachers, so I suppose you could say that the
headmistress
is Miss Dawley since she has been at the school the longest.”

James lapsed into silence then, and Martha was quite happy to encourage that.

The school building had five rooms, one where all the pupils were taught, one where they ate a simple lunch, and three smaller rooms where smaller groups of students could be taught.

They had timed their visit so that they arrived in lunch hour and they headed into the dining hall, which had three rows of trellis tables and benches set up for the children to eat at.

James was fascinated by the pupils he saw, for they were all rather poor and ragged looking. He drifted closer to those queuing for food, so that he might see what they were eating. The food was simple, stew and bread, but it looked edible.

Hope was content for James to look about on his own, so she looked for Mary and smiled as she spotted her aunt.

“Mary, how are you?” she greeted the other woman with a kiss on her cheek.

“Very well,” Mary smiled. “Is that your visitor?” she asked, having noticed the man who was hovering over the children as they got their lunch.

“Yes,” Hope sighed. “Come on, I'll introduce you.”

James turned as he noticed them approach and smiled.

“Mr Ashdown, I'd like you to meet Miss Dawley, Mary, this is Mr Ashdown.”

“Very pleased to meet you,” James said as they shook hands.

“And you.” Mary looked to the cook, who was dishing out the stew and held up three fingers, indicating that they wanted three portions. When they were ready, Mary thanked her and handed one plate to Hope and another to James. She directed them to the cutlery table, then to the end of one of the long tables, where they sat to eat. As usual, Hope's dog had accompanied them inside, and now curled up behind the table.

James was a little suspicious of the food at first and wondered briefly if he didn't like it, if there was any way he could discreetly feed it to the collie that followed Hope everywhere. First he tried a small piece of bread, and then when that proved palatable, dipped another piece of bread into the gravy and tasted it.

“It's not poisonous,” Hope chided, rolling her eyes at Mary, who smiled a little.

“No, I didn't... I apologise.” He had not considered that his distaste for the food might be insulting to those who ate it daily. He summoned up his courage and took a mouthful of stew, which was actually very nice. It was plain, lacking the herbs and spices that he was used to, but certainly edible.

Mary smiled.

“So, Miss Dawley, it seems like a fine school that you run here.”

“Thank you.”

“How long have you been teaching?” he asked.

“Twelve years now, ever since the estate school was set up.”

“And do you enjoy it?”

“Very much so.”

“So how does it work?” he asked.

“It's simple really. The school is open to children aged from five to ten, although those who show particular promise can stay on as assistant teachers, in exchange for additional lessons. We are mainly funded by the Beaumonts but the pupils have to pay a few pence per week.”

“And does everyone on the estate come here?”

“Not all, I'm afraid. Lucien, I mean, Lord Beaumont, is very keen on education but he cannot compel his tenants to send their children to school. I believe that well over half of the local children come here though.”

“And what do you teach?” he asked.

“The usual things; reading, writing, arithmetic, spelling and drill. The older pupils study a little geography, Latin and history.”

“And how many pupils do you have?”

“Sixty four,”

James looked around the room.

“Forgive me, but-”

“Some pupils go home at lunch time,” Mary explained. “That's why we have two hours for lunch, so that they have time to get home and back again.”

“Why do some stay?”

“Because many have mothers who work and aren't at home to meet them. Those families pay a small amount for the children's dinners, although Lord Beaumont also subsidises lunches.”

As their conversation deepened, Hope looked around the room at the children here. They were all well turned out, although their clothes were mostly old, probably hand-me-downs. She wouldn't be surprised if more than a few had holes in their boots either.

She listened with half an ear as James and Mary began discussing education reform and the possibility of making education compulsory. Hope had discussed these topics with Mary before, so already knew her thinking. She wasn't inclined to believe that James had anything worth listening to.

“And what of the girls?” James asked and Hope's head whipped around as she suddenly became interested in the conversation.

“What of them?” Mary asked.

“Does an education also benefit them?”

“Doesn't education benefit everyone?”

“Well... hasn't Miss Beaumont told you of our discussions on women?”