The Seventh Suitor (12 page)

Chapter 11

Kate felt a decided depression of spirits as she waved to Charity until the stagecoach was out of sight. She knew that Ralph had wanted to come to see Charity off, but Kate had refused him, and she felt guilty when confronted with his bleak, unhappy expression.

Her friend’s visit had managed to divert Kate’s mind from consideration of the future, which must now concern her. She had spent several happy years with her aunt and had returned to her family willingly to share in their interests. But Susan was off to London soon, and Ralph was sure to throw himself into the farm. Mr. Montgomery was so pleased with Ralph’s newly-found interest in farming and the estates that he spent less time with his daughter and inadvertently cut her off from her source of enjoyment in the land.

There were still visits to sick or injured tenants, but they hardly occupied the whole of her time. Mrs. Montgomery was thoroughly wrapped up in Susan’s debut, as could only be expected; and though she left Kate to run the house, once Kate had set things to rights, there was really not so much to do there, either.

The occupation of sewing and embroidering as a full-time pursuit bored Kate. She loved playing the pianoforte and the dulcimer, but they were relaxations for her and she had no serious intent with them. She had enjoyed her travels most of all and had kept journals of her impressions and experiences. Aunt Eleanor’s drawings had provided illustrations, and they had sometimes half-jokingly, half-seriously considered the possibility of putting a book together. But Aunt Eleanor’s marriage had halted those thoughts, and Kate did not wish to revive them at this point. Her aunt was like to be far too occupied to even remember them.

Kate had almost, but not quite, been able to tell her father that she dreamed of purchasing the Drew farm for herself. She realized he would be only slightly less shocked than everyone else if she were to do such an outrageous thing. Yet she had the capital and the enthusiasm to engage profitably in such an enterprise. But it would be an embarrassment to her family, and she shrank from so ungrateful an action.

There was very little for a gentlewoman to do, she thought ruefully, except get married and raise a brood of children and manage a household. Would that be satisfying? Would I feel I had accomplished something? I guess one cannot know until one has tried it, she thought. But even marriage looked less likely than ever before. No suitor had thus far really roused her interest, much less touched her heart.

Mr. Montgomery had persuaded her to journey to London with the rest of the family. She had consented only on the understanding that she would return when he did, leaving Susan to have her season unmarred by an aging spinster sister. The trip would provide an entertaining week or two, but it would not solve the dilemma she was trying to solve now. She wanted to do something interesting, rewarding, useful.

Immersed in her thoughts, she led the maid Betsy in and out of shops as she executed commissions for her mother, sister, and brother. These errands took no thought or energy; they were a dull routine. She decided to purchase Ralph something to cheer him, and strolled into a print shop. It might be fun, she thought, to own such a shop. She surveyed the counter and walls strewn with black-and-white and colored prints, inspected the window front, and wondered about the quarters behind the shop.

“Thinking of buying it, Miss Montgomery?”

Startled, she turned to face Winterton and blushed slightly. “Actually, I
was
thinking something like that. I was wondering what it would be like to own such a place. But it is nonsense, of course. Idle speculation.”

“You could
afford
to do so, of course, but I doubt that your family would approve, ma'am.”

“It seems to me, sir, that there is very little one
can
do to any purpose of which one’s family or friends would approve.”

“Marriage is the only suitable course for young women,” he retorted.

“Well, you know, that seems a very limited prospect to me.” Taunted by his exaggerated expression of shock, she continued coldly, but with a blush, “Mary Wollstonecraft called it legal prostitution. Not a very tempting prospect at all.”

Winterton narrowed his eyes. “I doubt your parents would approve of your reading Wollstonecraft, either, Miss Montgomery.”

“Do you think you should tell them, Lord Winterton? For my own good, of course.”

“You are being insolent.”

“And you are being patronizing. I am three and twenty and quite capable of deciding what I shall read.”

“I doubt most women are capable of an intelligent choice of reading material.”

“I assure you your opinion is of not the slightest interest to me. If you will excuse me, I have changed my mind and shall not purchase a print today.” Kate wheeled and headed for the door with skirts swishing in an angry hiss.

“Miss Montgomery, a moment,” Winterton ordered, but Kate ignored him and slammed the door behind her. His lengthy strides overtook her before she was two doors away, Betsy trudging in her furious wake. He took Kate’s elbow in a firm grasp and rasped, “I asked you to stay a moment.”

Kate attempted to shake off his hand, but he retained a tight hold. “You did not ask me; you commanded me. I am not one of your wards to calmly accept a raking down from you.”

“It has but just occurred to me that I have never repaid the loan you made me,” he explained calmly, digging in his pocket.

“Well, be sure to pay me in the streets, your lordship, where it cannot possibly be misconstrued,” she snapped and, giving a final shake to her elbow, easily dislodged his hand in his surprise. She once again proceeded on her way, Betsy bewildered and alarmed beside her.

“Oh, ma’am, how you did speak to him,” the maid said, awed.

“And so would you were someone so rude to you,” Kate laughed. She had more than once heard Betsy tell the youngest footman to mind his tongue.

“But the Earl of Winterton, ma’am,” Betsy protested.

“He is no different from other men, Betsy, and—”

“Now that is very true,” the judicious voice on her other side said.

“Lord Winterton, I am sure I have made it clear that I do not desire your company. However, should you wish me to spell it out, I shall.”

“Miss Montgomery, I am sure you would be the first to insist that I run by no inclination but my own. However, I wish to apologize for my rudeness.”

“I don’t want your apology, sir.”

“Miss Martin-Smith would not approve of such behavior,” he responded, his bland expression fixed on her face.

Kate flushed, cast her eyes down, and said sweetly, “But my friend Charity has not spent such a great deal of time being taunted by you, my lord.”

“No, indeed. I’m sure no one has ever had the least desire to taunt her,” he agreed.

“I’m sorry she has left,” Kate said suddenly. “It is not only Ralph’s disposition she keeps on an even keel.”

“No wonder you are in the mopes,” he declared, enlightened. “Ralph has his farm, Miss Susan is going to London, and you are at loose ends.”

“How well you put it, Lord Winterton. I am a great admirer of such needle-witted brevity. Perhaps you also prescribe for the ‘mopes.’”

“In your case I could.” He watched her face set stubbornly, and continued in a more kindly manner. “There is a project here in Bristol I should like you to see. I think it would fascinate you. Is your maid enough of a chaperone to play propriety for us if I take you to a rougher side of town?”

Kate looked uncertain. “What is the project?”

“I would rather show you than tell you. Will you come?” He regarded her challengingly now.

“Very well. But you must agree to turn back at any time if I ask it.”

“Certainly.” He offered her his arm, which she took after a brief hesitation. As they walked along, Betsy reluctantly accompanying them, Winterton began to tell her of the poorer side of Bristol. He vividly described the lives of the destitute and the hopelessness of their future. As they progressed into a section of the town she was not familiar with, he began to point out the signs of decay and neglect, and ragged urchins importuning them for money spoke for themselves.

“You understand, Miss Montgomery, that the long-term relief of this situation is not charity.” He supplied some short-term relief to several of the urchins as he spoke. “Over the years the situation of these children can only be improved by preparing them to earn a living which will support them. You know of Hannah More?”

“I have read a number of her works.”

“Miss More and her sisters assisted William Wilberforce in starting a school for girls. He was shocked by the poverty and lawlessness of Cheddar and the Mendips. The sisters taught their students spinning, knitting, and the catechism. Miss More’s ideas on education for these girls are limited to preparing them to work as servants and inculcating Christian principles. Quite admirable as far as it goes. She is a remarkable woman who must be nearing seventy by now, and she still superintends numerous schools and charities. She has no time for Mary Wollstonecraft’s diatribes on female rights, by the way.”

“Then she must be lacking in foresight,” Kate retorted.

“Be that as it may, she has devoted a great part of her life to
doing
something for women, which Wollstonecraft did not. In fact, considering Godwin’s description of her, I would say she did quite the reverse.”

“I do not have to approve of her life to be in sympathy with her thoughts on women’s rights. In fact, hers was not a particularly well-written book, but in the long run someone must consider the status of women. It is all very well for those of us who have families and money to rely upon them for support, but the plight of those without is pathetic.”

“I understand it was your expression of such a viewpoint that led to the wager my wards took part in,” he rejoined as he led her toward a building at the end of a dingy street.

Kate stopped abruptly and glared at him. “And it did not occur to you that such a wager merely serves to illustrate a woman’s pathetic situation?”

“Only yours,” he replied incautiously.

“We will turn back now, Lord Winterton,” Kate instructed, her face grown pale with mortification. She dropped his elegantly clad arm and linked hers with Betsy’s.

Exasperated, Winterton spoke sharply. “You are intent on misunderstanding me, Miss Montgomery. I admit that was carelessly spoken. What I meant was that few women are prepared to take on an equality with men. You are one who probably could.” He was talking to her back now and could not judge the response to this speech. There was a long silence; the cries of the street intervened.

At length Kate spoke almost inaudibly. “The fact that they are
not
prepared does not necessitate that they could not
be
prepared.”

“It remains to be seen. Are you an ardent advocate of female rights, Miss Montgomery?”

“No, but I cannot bear to see women being treated like cattle,” Kate choked, her back still to him.

“Then come with me, and I will show you how to improve the situation. Ignorance is at the base of it.”

“Where are you taking me?” she asked quietly as she turned to face him.

Winterton was struck forcefully by the lone tear-streak on her face. He was impatient of female hysterics, but there was nothing but dignity writ upon her countenance. Confound the woman, he fumed within himself. “I am taking you to a school where these street urchins you see about you can be taught a trade. Those who are capable and express an interest are also taught to read, something Hannah More would deplore, I fear, as her interest is in stimulating the lower classes to habits of industry and piety, not fanaticism, so she says. My own belief, for what it is worth, is that although the ability to read will broaden the possibilities of employment for the wretched children, it is hardly likely to inspire visions of grandeur. The enclosure laws have driven many from the land to the cities where they will try to find employment in trade. If they can read, they have a better chance to do so.”

“Take me to your school.” Kate sighed with resignation and accepted his proffered arm once more.

Winterton’s manner seemed softer and more enthusiastic once they were in the school and being greeted by Mr. Collins, the headmaster, who asked after Thomas Single. Winterton explained that he had hired Thomas away from the school when they had been able to find a replacement for him. The building which housed the school was older and not very large, but it was kept clean. There were several classrooms and a dining room. Kate was introduced to the two teachers, a woman of middle age and a young man. The school’s program was explained to her, with Winterton filling in the details of materials needed.

“You see, there is little reading material which is suitable for our purposes. Hannah More’s writings for her schoolchildren are largely religious indoctrination. If we want the children to learn to read, the subject must be something which will interest them. It should relate to the lives they lead or could lead, incorporating simple lessons on economy and honesty and such.” Winterton stopped to wave out the window at the dirt yard. “They will do better morally if they have food in their stomachs and a roof over their heads.”

When they had thanked Mr. Collins for the tour and stepped out into the sunlight once again, Kate did not know quite what to say to Winterton. They walked for some time without speaking, Betsy once again following. Kate was considering the various aspects which presented themselves to her. Winterton had just shown her a useful project, as he had hinted he would. The school fascinated her, and she was willing to help support it. Her legacy from Carl made it possible for her to interest herself in such endeavors without involving her family if she wished.

Perhaps Winterton hoped she would give away the entire legacy and be done with it! No, he had described her as being at loose ends; therefore he must imagine that she would involve herself actively in the work, which was what most appealed to her in any case. But she could not journey to Bristol very often; it would have to be something she could do at home.