Cry of the Peacock (7 page)

A
BBIE, DRESSED IN her finest mourning, arrived downstairs to find Lady Crawford standing before the drawing room doors. “Oh there you are, dear. I was so worried you’d be late again.” Which she never had been. “Let me see you.”

Abbie, perplexed, turned and subjected herself to examination.

“It will be so much better when we can get you into some color, but until then you will do well enough. At least you are not as pale as when you first came to us.” She patted Abbie’s cheek. “Shall we join the men?”

The doors were opened for them and Abbie, with Lady Crawford leading the way, entered to find the usual family members present; Ruskin, James, Sir Nicholas… And a stranger who had his back to her, and who was apparently deep in conversation with Sir Nicholas. Or had been until their entrance interrupted him.

“Ah, here they are now,” Sir Nicholas said with a proud smile as the ladies entered.

Lady Crawford, thus announced, drew Abbie forward. “This is our Miss Gray,” she said and presented her to the newcomer who turned then to observe her. “Arabella, perhaps you will remember my second eldest, David.”

Abbie stopped. She could move no further, for here was the stranger who had appeared so suddenly, and so mysteriously, at her aunt’s gate.

“How do you do, Miss Gray?” he said, bowing his head politely, and then turning: “You are looking well, Mother. It seems your newest project is proving beneficial to your spirits.”

“She is such a dear, David. I do hope you will make her feel welcome.” Lady Crawford then excused herself to speak with Ruskin, while Abbie was allowed the opportunity to acquaint herself with the last of the three brothers to return home. She observed Ruskin, in the background, pouring himself a drink and watching them, as he listened with half an ear to his mother’s speech.

“You’ve certainly brought a great deal of excitement to our household, Miss Gray,” David said, recalling her attention to himself, “to my mother in particular. It’s clear she’s benefited greatly by your company already.”

“I’m glad to hear you say so, Mr. Crawford.”

She could manage no more than cool civility. For though he was every bit as polite now as he had been on that day, so many weeks ago, she was reluctant to trust in his sincerity. She remembered his disapproving looks and shrunk from the memory of them—anticipated, even, a repetition of them.

“You yourself look much improved,” he said now. “You are well?”

“I’m very well, thanks to your family’s generous care.”

“I’m relieved to hear it,” he said, and she was tempted to believe him.

“Do you confess to having met me before, then?”

“I can hardly deny it, can I?” he answered with a laugh that was not entirely comfortable. “I’m afraid you must think me very rude.”

“To have appeared from nowhere? To have refused to leave your name? You had said you were lost, but I believe it was me, after all, you were looking for.”

“Perhaps it was,” he said, and again did not seem to take much pleasure in the confession.

“Why?” But she knew why. At least she could guess it. He had come to get a glimpse of his mother’s ‘project’, as he had called her, and to cast his disapproval upon it.

“Is something the matter?” It was Ruskin. He had been watching them closely, and at the first sign of trouble, had come to her aid.

“No, nothing,” she answered him, and making a show of her pleasure at his intervention. “Not now, that is.”

Ruskin answered with a proud look and a dismissive nod toward his brother. “Shall we go in, then?”

She took his arm, grateful to have an excuse to end the conversation with David, and allowed him to lead her to the dining room. She could feel David watching her still, and against her better judgment, she turned to find that she was not mistaken. He bowed politely, but there was a crease in his brow that suggested he was not pleased by what he saw. What truly troubled her, however, was not his disapproval, but the confusion of sentiments he bore, and which he inspired in her, as well. She despised that portion of her that wished to know and to understand—that wished to conquer him.

“Did you get the flowers?” Ruskin asked, rousing her from her thoughts and consequently raising her color even higher than it had been a moment ago.

“Oh, yes,” she answered. “They were exquisite. Thank you.”

“And do you forgive me?”

“Of course I do,” she said and found she meant it more sincerely now than she had done an hour ago.

*   *   *

“We have not heard about your trip, dear,” Lady Crawford said to David, once dinner had been served. “Of course we had it from James upon his return, but your perspective is always so much different than his, you know. And I’m sure Arabella, who has not had the opportunity to do much travelling, would love to hear all you did and saw.”

“France is always enlightening, of course,” David answered quite readily. “But I confess I might have enjoyed myself more had I not to drag James around to see the sights.”

James laughed at this, but otherwise did not challenge his brother’s assertion.

“At least his idea of sightseeing is somewhat different than mine,” David added. He met Abbie’s gaze briefly before glancing at Ruskin—who had no interest in David’s travels and so consequently was not listening—before turning his attention back upon his mother. “I would like to have afforded more time in Manheim, certainly.”

“I had forgotten you’d taken a side trip to Germany,” said Lady Crawford.

“Well, I had to, you know. After meeting Emile Roger at his engine manufactury in Paris, I had to see Mr. Benz for myself, for it’s Benz’s engines Roger uses, and sells too, which is the greater wonder. It was impossible not to take advantage of the opportunity. What they are doing with the internal combustion engine is—”

“I’m sure Miss Gray has little interest in your infernal combustive engines,” Lady Crawford objected.

“No, of course not,” he said with another glance that did not quite reach Abbie. “I beg your pardon.”

But she
was
interested. She knew so little of the world outside of Holdaway that she was naturally intrigued by such novel ideas as David had introduced to the usually mundane dinner conversation. She was consequently disappointed to have it end so soon, and especially to find that Ruskin took no interest in them.

“What have you been up to, James, since you’ve come home?” David asked of his younger brother. “You’re not itching to get back to university, I take it?”

James swallowed the bite he had just placed in his mouth. “Gad, no!”

“James!” his mother admonished him.

“Beg your pardon, Mother, Miss Gray,” and the nod he gave Abbie was actually respectful. Which won from David a questioning look that briefly fell upon her before returning to James. She had no answer for it though, for the gesture puzzled her as greatly as it puzzled David.

“I have enough here to keep me quite occupied at present,” James answered.

“Is that so?” The question was asked with an air of suspicion. “Anything you’d care to share?”

“I’ve taken the initiative of examining the working and living conditions of our laborers and their families. Miss Gray has been good enough to accompany me, and to show me the lay of the land from her perspective, and has introduced me into a few of the homes whose doors have been reluctant to open to me since I’ve returned.” With this he offered her another polite nod, which, once again, she did not know how to answer. “In fact, after today, I’ve have one or two ideas, which—”

“We have plans already, James,” Ruskin laughed, though he seemed a trifle irritated. “I don’t know who put it into your head that your help was wanted in the matter.”

“I did,” Sir Nicholas answered. “We’ve let things go for far too long. Matters are growing urgent, and there’s no knowing how urgent if we don’t have someone making the observations at ground level.”

“You elected James to do this?” Ruskin’s doubt was apparent, but so was something else. Was it injured pride? Or was it honestly placed skepticism in his younger brother’s suitability for anything requiring so much responsibility? “So what is it you suggest then, James? What is it
you
think we ought to be doing? We’ve resumed the drainage, we’ll soon be plowing the fields, and—”

“I’m afraid,” David intervened, “if you want the plowing done now, then it’ll have to do be done with machinery.”

“Where, exactly, do you suggest we get the capital to buy these contraptions? And no one knows how to run any of it. Do you plan to come home from London to show us?”

“To speak of money at the table!” Lady Crawford objected, but continued her occupation of feeding her spaniel the scraps from her plate, for which the dog was encouraged to dance and beg.

The conversation went on unhindered, as Sir Nicholas and his sons argued over what was most important to be accomplished. Should the crops be prepared, and when and how? And was there time, after all, to do it? Or ought they instead to concentrate on the workers, and making their lives comfortable enough that they were not ashamed to live and work at Holdaway?

James, Abbie was pleased to find, was on the side of the workers, but Ruskin, to her utter chagrin, felt that repairs enough had been made to the cottages, and that it was now time to concentrate on the productivity of the estate itself, and on the income that was consequently lacking from previous neglect to this all important matter. Abbie watched with interest as the battle played out. It was growing increasingly heated.

“You can repair a stable to your heart’s content,” James argued, “you can add a roof and some lace curtains if it pleases you, but it’s still a stable.”

Ruskin shook his head dismissively, but Abbie could not bear to have James’ point—valid as it was—swept aside so easily.

“You are right, James,” she interjected, her heart pounding hard as she did. “The cottages, the lower cottages in particular, they’re barely standing. The workers deserve, for all their years of hard and faithful labor, to live in homes that shelter them and that offer comfort and protection. They deserve, like anyone else, to live in dignity.”

She could feel all eyes upon her as she concluded her unsolicited speech; Ruskin’s, James’… David’s. She only looked to Sir Nicholas, and it was his response alone she dared to interpret. He gave her the slightest of nods. He approved.

“James?” he said, looking to his youngest son.

It was all the incentive James needed. “Those cottages need to be rebuilt, and on higher ground. If we could get them out of the way of the drainage and standing water, I think it would make a great difference.”

“We don’t have the capital for a project of that size,” Ruskin reminded him, and everyone else who was listening.

“If the crops had been prepared last spring we might have had it already,” David said. “But the latest advancements in machinery are proving a boon to many, and I think it would be a mistake to ignore them at a time like—”

Ruskin scoffed. “Not more of your ridiculous contraptions?” he said. “They’re nothing more than a passing fad. Why can’t you see that?”

David sighed, put down his fork and laid his napkin upon the table. “Perhaps you’ve been too busy to notice, Ruskin, but it’s been the inventions, the advancements, agricultural and otherwise, that have made it possible to survive in the present financial climate. There are steady returns coming in from the companies that manufacture and sell these
contraptions
, as you call them. They are the way of the future, and at some point you are going to have to accept it.”

David went on, while Abbie listened in rapt interest as he recounted the benefits, agricultural and financial, of investing in machinery. His knowledge was impressive and he had learned, not only from careful study, but from practice as well. Since leaving university, David had been given the charge of managing the family’s financial affairs, both at home and in the city. He had made a success of it, it seemed, but in the last year or more his interests had turned from agriculture to the development and promotion of the machinery that would assist them in their agricultural endeavors. Yet it went far beyond that; railroad, the automobile… He saw a future in these that was almost visionary, and Abbie was intrigued. So far her life had consisted of little more than farms and crops and poverty. She consequently found the idea of such modern advancements wholly enthralling. His mother, and even his eldest brother, who clearly did not agree.

“Returns and driving prices! Do you hear this?” Lady Crawford said and offered a look that begged Abbie’s sympathy.

“I simply believe,” David said more patiently, and with more astute attention to the words he chose, “that if we want to survive here, as we are, we must commit to our land in a way we’ve not done in a decade or more. We haven’t the manpower we used to. We have much that needs to be accomplished as quickly and efficiently as possible. Put the machines to use! They will pay for themselves by and by. You will see.”

“And something
must
be done, Ruskin,” Sir Nicholas urged him. “The time for contemplation is over.”

“So which is it?” Ruskin asked with thinly veiled annoyance. “Do we invest in machinery? Or do we set to work improving the cottages.”