The Reformer (20 page)

Martha yawned as she escorted the two girls upstairs, a gesture noticed by Ryan.

“Martha, go to bed. I will take care of the girls.”

“Lord Ryan, they need to bathe and—”

“Yes, yes, I know, it is not proper. Go to bed. That is an order,” Ryan said firmly, planting himself in front of her. She frowned, about to argue, when he placed a hand on her shoulder, “Nanny, please… you aren't as spry as you once were. Allow me to do my job as you rest from yours. Good night.”

He kissed her on the cheek and pushed her gently in the direction of her room. With a relenting sigh, Martha obeyed. Ryan turned to the girls, raising his eyebrow to the incredulous look on Eliza's face.

“Go on, out with it…” he began, prepared for the fight.

Eliza glanced at Aryanna and then turned to Ryan. “Thank you for allowing me to be here. I submit myself to your care, Reformer.”

Ryan raised both brows in surprise. Was this the same woman who, only a few weeks before, had been the demon of the academy? He was truly impressed with the progress his father and Martha had made. Her cooperation and submission earned her a reward.

“For your answer, my dear, I will allow you to bathe yourself. Would you like that?”

Eliza's eyes widened with excitement. Since being placed in the reformer’s care, privacy had been a thing of the past. This was truly a gift, and she expressed her appreciation to Ryan over and over again. He gestured for her to go and smiled as she raced up the stairs eagerly to attend to her own needs. Aryanna tugged his sleeve.

“Lord Ryan? Will you make me bathe myself too?” the girl asked cautiously.

“Make you? Do you wish to bathe yourself, dove?”

“No. I like when Lord Ryan washes me. It makes feel good here,” she patted her heart. Ryan was unable to resist, scooping her into his arms and pressing his lips upon her mouth. His manhood rose against her, and she giggled, squirming to escape. “Lord Ryan is happy to bathe me, too?” she asked mischievously. Ryan had the decency to blush.

* * *

Gerard permitted Eliza to remain with Aryanna for the entire week as he and Ryan collected more produce for canning and bagged grains and dried beans. Tenants frequented Ryan's large house, bringing additional jars, spices and sugar, as well as news from the areas that had already been stricken by the drought. Eliza found herself being caught up in the activities, reading to children while their mothers worked in the hot kitchen, labeling jars with her neat print, and even engaging in animated conversations with their visitors. Her face was bright and happy and, for the first time in her life, she felt alive and useful. She and Aryanna grew closer, and the two girls were often found huddled beneath a shady tree with Eliza patiently helping Aryanna with her reading. Aryanna, in return, was teaching Eliza how to draw. Gerard rewarded Eliza for her efforts by giving her a stack of scented papers and drawing pencils, much like that which Ryan had given Aryanna. After an excited squeal and kiss on the cheek, Eliza raced off to show her young friend the new gift.

“Our girls are doing well, son. It always amazes me how adversity can positively change people if guided in the proper direction. You are very quiet these days. Care to talk?”

“I want to marry her, Father. She has become my source of light and joy. I know it is too early, but…”

“My boy, oftentimes a joyous celebration is a good distraction from days of turmoil. You have my blessing.”

“Truly? You do not believe this to be too sudden or untimely?” Ryan looked surprised.

“I knew I wanted your mother the very day I scrubbed the dirt off her face. And I do look forward to having grandchildren bouncing upon my knee before I grow too old to enjoy them,” Gerard grinned. “Let us complete this task, though, and inform your mother prior to your proposal so that she might gloat a while. She had correctly predicted this outcome and will be insufferable with telling me that she was, once again, correct.”

“Of course,” Ryan laughed. “I would never want to deprive her of that pleasure. And I would like to have our tenants all be involved. I know that is not of the norm—”

“Ryan, when have any of the earls of Yarlshire performed in a manner that was of the norm? A wedding is the perfect way to draw the community closer and give our people a happy thing to look forward to. Perhaps we could discuss dressmaking with the seamstress from whom we purchased the dolls?”

“Yes! And have the stationer make invitations for the towns.”

“Let us use dried herbs and spices instead of flowers…”

“Dear Lord, you two sound like roosting hens planning to lay a clutch,” a third voice intervened.

Eliza looked up as she heard the two men laugh heartily. “They looked excited about something,” she said to Aryanna. “I wonder what? And who is that man?”

“If they are happy, then it is good,” Aryanna smiled. “He acts as though he knows them well.”

Eliza squinted her eyes to focus on the third man that joined the two Remingtons and who had received a jovial greeting that included loud shouts and a strong embrace. His clothing was different than the others, more casual and relaxed, with curly and roguishly unruly blond hair touching his collar. He sported a large, tanned smile as he swung Gerard off the ground in a bear hug.

“I think he must be an American,” Eliza whispered, her heart fluttering. “Quite a handsome specimen, is he not?”

“Ryan is more so,” Aryanna giggled “But yes, the man is strong. Gerard is large and he lifted him like a pack of hay.”

“Bale of hay, you silly girl,” Eliza giggled back. “Don’t look! They are coming our way!”

Both women stared at their papers, feigning disinterest as the three men approached. Gerard cleared his throat, and both girls pretended to looked surprised as they scrambled to their feet. “My dears, I would like to introduce you to Jackson Jefferson. He is a reformer in the colonies and an old friend of the Crown. He and King Edward schooled together as boys. Jack, please meet Miss Eliza Woods, my present ward. And this creature is Aryanna, Ryan's undertaking.”

“Pleased to meet you, ladies,” Jack grinned, tipping his hat with a tiny bow. He lifted Eliza's hand to his lips, his blue eyes twinkling. “Most pleased to meet you.”

Aryanna hid her smile behind her hand as she closed in next to Ryan. Eliza was blushing furiously and unable to find her words! Ryan elbowed Aryanna teasingly and rescued the woman.

“Jack is visiting Edward for the remainder of the year and will be spending quite a bit of time in the country with us. You share much in common with him, Eliza. He is the headmaster at an academy in Boston. Eliza is on sabbatical as headmistress for ours.”

“A teacher, good sir?” Eliza forced out, meeting his eyes. He still held her hand, and she was reluctant to allow him to release her.

“In mathematics and the sciences, dear lady. And yourself?”

“History and literature. I fear my poor behavior has cost me that position, however.” Eliza bowed her face in disgrace.

Jack lifted her chin. “I am also a product of Reform, sweetface. Don't you worry. Things will always work out best if you put your heart into it.”

“Do you really believe this is true?”

“Yep. Are these gals gonna join us for dinner tonight? It would be a very ugly table without them,” Jack said, eyeing Gerard.

He received a laugh. “We always have our wards dine with us, Jack, old boy. I wish Brigit were here. She would adore seeing you again.”

“We'll have plenty of time to get together. I'm here for several months, at least. I’m taking a bit of a break and grabbing the chance to travel and see some old friends. Ladies,” he bowed graciously to the two twittering women, “until tonight, then.”

* * *

Jack chuckled to himself as he trotted alongside Gerard and Ryan, thinking of the brown-haired beauty with the large, intelligent eyes. She was a looker, that one! And to be in the reform system meant that she also must have a bit of feisty to her. Most of Gerard's words were lost as he contemplated her situation, a condition noticed immediately by Ryan.

“Father, I don't believe Jack has heard a word that you have said. His mind is somewhere else,” Ryan snickered. “I think your old friend has a new interest.”

“I believe you might be correct. All I can say is that it’s about time,” Gerard responded. “For once, your mother has not had her hand in the matchmaking, either. That fact will annoy her to no end.”

“It seems that Mother isn't the only one that has an impish side to her character.”

“I will admit having pulled several pranks upon her in my day. She leaves me with little choice,” Gerard shrugged. “I only pray that Aryanna will make you as happy as your mother has made me.”

“Hey, Gerry,” Jack suddenly said, making Gerard cringe at the nickname. “Do you think that Lizzy might be interested in taking a stroll with me this evening?”

“I am certain she would. However, I must remind you that she is in reform. Protocol still must be followed.” Gerard stated. “Lizzy?”

“Gotcha, friend. Uncle Jack will comply,” Jack grinned, winking. “Perhaps Miss Aryanna would care to join us—”

“If her behavior warrants an evening constitution, then I will consider it,” Ryan said back. “She has been working very diligently lately on both her studies and her community efforts. “

“Then you should reward her, Ry. A little girl like that probably flourishes in praise,” Jack opined.

“She does, but she also has a little streak of what my lady mother calls, the pixie within her. She has learned very early various means to attempt to sway me.”

“Good girl. You need a woman like that around. I have a hard time seeing you with one of the ladies of the court. Are you thinking of making this arrangement a permanent one?”

“I am, but nothing is to be said until my mother is informed, otherwise she will be chasing both Father and myself with a stout stick.” Ryan laughed.

“And catching you, no doubt. Yes, I do recall Lady Brigit being quite the temperamental one. Old man Gerry here never ceased talking about that Irish sass.”

“She has not changed over the years, either,” Gerard grinned. “Nor would I desire her to do so.”

* * *

Brigit's Irish sass came into full bloom when she confronted Headmaster Stewart regarding his 'hands-off' policy and the damaged it had caused the students. Her ire was raised upon discovering that multiple members of the staff had presented to speak with him regarding the abusive conditions rendered and his lackadaisical responses. He displayed the same disinterested attitude towards her, reminding her that as a woman, her 'place' was to comply and submissively subject herself to his leadership.

That was the final straw and the Clan O’Ryan declared war. “Leadership? This is not leadership, you ill-mannered prick!” Brigit spouted, all semblance of a well-mannered lady tossed to the wayside as she rendered every Irish curse upon him, his cock, and any future generation that might be bestowed upon him. “These children needed your help, you selfish bastard! You don't deserve to call yourself an educator, Mister Stewart! If I were a man…”

“I would be obligated to punch you in the jaw,” Henry said quietly, not hiding his resentment. “You may leave
my
office, Lady Remington. You do remember that you are a lady, yes? It seems that you have forgotten your place, madam. I am certain your husband will be utterly disgraced when he discovers your behavior and blatant disrespect shown me this day, as would the Board of Regents. You are dismissed, woman.”

After uttering several Irish curses, she demanded to use the telegraph in his office. He, of course, refused. With one last utterance and calling upon the fires of hell to rain upon the intolerable man, Brigit stomped out of the room and slammed the door loudly behind her. He would think to try to blackmail her into behaving like a doormat? Never! Not as long as she had spit and fire left in her blood.

“Cook! I need your help,” she announced, storming into the large kitchens. “We are going to engage in a little history lesson taught by the Irish nation. I need you to gather the staff and meet me at the barn. Tell them to spread word quickly and do not engage in conversation with the headmaster.”

Cook's eyes widened, hearing the lady's brogue twinge in anger. A smile slowly spread across the older woman's face as she understood the implications. “Are we to prepare for a people's rebellion, my lady?”

“Aye, my friend. Indeed, we are. 'Tis time a few wee changes be made in this fine establishment,” Brigit grinned, not attempting to tone down her accent. “We'll teaching the little ones that it is good to stand up for right and come against wrong.”

“Your Lord husband may not be pleased, My Ladyship. Are you certain you wish to pursue this course of action?” The cook’s eyes twinkled merrily as she removed her apron and beckoned to the staff.

“Nay, but he will support me. I trust him to do so. He always pursues what it right. Now go. Gather the clan, Mrs. Maquire. The war has begun,” Brigit announced, consciously not reaching back to touch her bottom where the lingering effects from her punishment with the nettles one week past still remained.

“Yes, madam!”

* * *

Ryan's eyes widened as the two ladies emerged from their dressing. Both were garbed in soft, floating, lace summer gowns with matching hats and delicate necklaces adorning their slender necks. Martha had fixed their hair in soft ringlets piled atop their heads, making them appear elegant and refined.

“How beautiful you both look tonight. Eliza? Are you meaning to catch the eye of our old friend?” he asked, taking their arms and leading them to the carriage.

Eliza blushed prettily, “No, sir. Martha felt it was best for us to practice our manners before company. This is her doing.”

“And, of course, you protested quite adamantly,” he teased.

“Truth, good sir, is that I have since found the nursery wear to be most comfortable and non-confining,” Eliza smiled, eyeing Aryanna. “It is nice not to be trussed up like a Christmas goose. And I have never had an opportunity to stroll with bare feet through the grasses.”