by Martha Keyes
John Reed had taken it hard indeed. Raw wool littered the floor of the house, the basket that had held it overturned as though it had been thrown in anger, and John sat at the table with a bottle of Samuel knew not what.
Samuel’s visit and reassurances had done little to soothe the man’s agitation. Things were apparently even more dire than Samuel had realized, and it was only Mrs. Reed’s words to her husband which served to calm him.
Samuel could have kissed Miss Paige when he discovered that she had paid nearly double the amount agreed upon for her wool coat. Had she known that it was her generosity which would put food on the Reeds’ table for some time?
Word of the machinery’s arrival had spread quickly through the village, and Samuel was obliged to answer the questions of a number of people on the short walk back to the parsonage once he had left the Reeds.
He had no answers for the villagers, though, and the only way he found to quell the anxiety he saw reflected in their eyes was to assure them that they would hold a village meeting when they could relay more information and come up with a plan as a community for how to proceed.
It was more than an hour after his return home when Miss Paige arrived back at the parsonage, accompanied again by the maid from Granchurch House.
He welcomed them into the small salon he used to receive guests and was grateful that she began speaking without any need for civil pleasantries to preface the information he most wished for.
“I am sorry it took me so long,” she said, untying the strings of her bonnet and sounding slightly breathless, as though she had nearly run the distance to the parsonage. “I had been walking to Amblethorne when I realized that my arrival sans maid might not be conducive to a pleasant visit. So I was obliged to return to Granchurch House and find some small excuse for an unexpected visit to Amblethorne.”
He motioned for her to have a seat.
“I am afraid the news I have is hardly helpful,” she said. “Apparently Sir Clyde found a man selling a few of his spinning machines and simply couldn’t resist purchasing them at such a low price. I had been hoping that he merely planned to house the machines in the village while work is done on the roads, but I am afraid he has every hope of putting them to use as soon as possible.”
Samuel clenched his clasped hands, dropping his head in frustration.
“I am truly sorry,” she continued. “I know that this is not at all what we were hoping for.”
Samuel shook his head. “There is nothing for you to apologize for. But no, it is certainly not what we had been hoping for—nor is it what we were promised by the Gilmours. I am afraid that John Reed has taken it very badly. They are in worse shape than I even realized, and that is with help from the parish over the past few months.” He looked up at her, remembering her great kindness to the Reeds earlier that day. “If it were not for the coat you purchased—and apparently paid well more than the prevailing rate for, I might add—”
She turned her head away, clearly uncomfortable with her generosity being mentioned.
“—I don’t know what John might do.”
“Surely there is another way we might help them,” Miss Paige said, biting at the tip of her gloved thumb. “I shall put my mind to the matter.” She stood, and her maid followed suit.
“Word has traveled through the village, as it always does, and I had no way of quelling the fears that had been stoked without agreeing to hold a meeting at the church later this week.”
Miss Paige nodded. “I think it a very good idea. Perhaps we can discuss things more tomorrow? For now, I must return to Granchurch House. It is nearly dinnertime, and that is the one time of day Aunt Sara truly wishes for my companionship.”
Samuel could only wonder at a person who wouldn’t wish for Miss Paige’s companionship all day long, but he agreed to her suggestion without hesitation and saw her out through the parsonage door.
Things were not well in Rushbury, and yet Samuel felt much more calm than he otherwise might have. For once, he had someone to share in the burden of it.
Chapter 13
Georgiana looked around the vestry at the villagers before her, the room humming with the low conversations taking place amongst them. Mr. Burke stood beside her as they awaited Mr. Derrick’s arrival from tutoring two of the village children. He leaned toward her.
“Anyone might think it had been announced that the next London Season would take place in Rushbury, for all the upheaval two machines have caused.”
Georgiana smiled at him. It was true that the entire atmosphere had shifted in the village over the past three days. There seemed to be a closing of ranks amongst the residents of Rushbury, with plenty of narrow, sidelong glances at the house at the end of the lane, particularly when there was any movement there.
Noticeably absent from the meeting were John and Mary Reed. Their oldest daughter Patience sat quietly in attendance, the only one present who seemed to have no interest in whispering with the other villagers. Georgiana’s eyes rested thoughtfully on her for a moment.
Mr. Derrick strode through the door, his eyes finding Georgiana, whom he smiled at and came to stand by.
“Good day, everyone,” he said, tucking a sheaf of papers under his arm. “Thank you for coming today. We know that everyone has many questions, and I wish we had more answers.” He looked to Georgiana and Mr. Burke. “But I hope that we can come together and make some decisions on how to proceed.”
“What’s she doing up there?” Mrs. Green tossed her chin to indicate Georgiana.
Georgiana felt her muscles clench, but she tried her best to smile. It wasn’t surprising that the villagers would see her once again as a threat. She had arrived at nearly the same time as the Gilmours, after all, and they saw her as one of their set. They might even believe her responsible in some way for the arrival of the machines—as though any unwelcome change could be attributed to the newcomers.
Besides, with nearly the first words out of her mouth, she had condemned the roads of Rushbury. In time, she hoped the villagers would come to see that she truly meant well and had no desire to upend their lives.
“Now, see here,” Mr. Burke said, stepping forward. “Miss Paige is one of us, and the sooner you all realize that, the better it will be for you.”
Georgiana felt her eyes sting slightly at the showing of loyalty from the constable.
“Burke is right,” Mr. Derrick said. “Miss Paige is not an enemy. I give you my assurance—my word—that you can trust her as you would trust me.”
Georgiana turned her head away, blinking rapidly. She knew what it meant for Mr. Derrick to vouch for her in such a way.
When she was confident she could rein in her emotions, she smiled understandingly at the villagers, clearing her throat and stepping forward. Mr. Burke’s and Mr. Derrick’s words had brought about a change in them already.
“My friends—for I hope you will allow me to consider you as such—I can sympathize with your wariness at my presence.” She looked around at each of the villagers, smiling in understanding. “I hope I can prove to you my trustworthiness in time. I want to assure you that I have every intention of using the small influence I have with the Gilmours to seek the best interests of Rushbury.”
There was little response from the villagers, but as no one called out to challenge her, Georgiana felt that it could have gone much worse and stepped back in line with Mr. Derrick and Mr. Burke.
“Thank you, Miss Paige,” Mr. Derrick said, smiling at her thankfully. “I know many in this room are struggling already to make ends meet. We are certainly feeling the effect of what has been happening in Bradford, Leeds, and Manchester. We have been insulated from much of the change that has affected others in the wool trade. I think I bear some of this responsibility at least, as I have been a bit, shall we say, resistant to change?” He smiled wryly, finding Georgiana’s eyes, and her heart skipped as he looked at her. The room relaxed even more with the joke at his own expense. “None of us wants Rushbury to ch
ange. But I fear that change is coming, all the same, and we can either adapt to it and turn it to our advantage, or we can flounder as it takes us unawares.”
A few heads bobbed up and down around the room.
“Miss Paige has been kind enough to speak with the Gilmours since learning of their plans for our village. She has secured enough money from them to make a substantial difference in the state of our roads without burdening any of you with paying more. However, money is only one part of the equation. We need labor. Thankfully, the Gilmours have provided enough money that we can pay you for your labor this time.”
Heads turned and whispers sounded.
“If everyone can come together,” the vicar said, raising his voice, “the labor will take a fraction of the time it has in the past. And we will all benefit. When the Reeds transport their wool to nearby villages or towns, they will be able to do so faster and more securely, for part of our plans are to cut back many of the branches and shrubbery that have provided concealment for the highwaymen that have plagued the West Riding.” He again found Georgiana’s eyes, and she narrowed them in an expression of feigned bitterness, though the effect was undoubtedly ruined by the smile she couldn’t suppress. “More people will dare a ride into Rushbury for Mrs. Green’s famous pastries, where before now they haven’t been able to justify the time it takes to travel safely over our difficult terrain. You see what I mean, I think.”
Heads nodded.
“We shall have a statute labor day next Monday, then, and we expect—and sincerely hope—that all of you will attend for the betterment of Rushbury.”
Mr. Burke stepped forward with a look half-menacing, half-playful. “And if anyone feels inclined to absent themselves, I shall have no choice but to help them—very actively—to reconsider.”
The villagers chuckled, and Georgiana sighed her relief at the positive sound.
“So,” Mr. Burke said, “who will commit to join us?” He looked around the room, and many hands raised in the air, though a few hung down. “If only Sam and I show our faces to help yet again, our early deaths will all fall on your heads!”
More laughter sounded, and a few more hands went up. The hands of Mrs. Green and another woman Georgiana had yet to meet stayed clasped in their laps.
“I’ll only help if she helps,” said Mrs. Green, pointing at Georgiana. “And by help, I don’t mean standing there in her pretty dress and watching us do all the work.”
“Aye,” said the woman beside her. “I’ll help if she does.”
Mr. Derrick looked to Georgiana, a mixture of amusement and apology on his face.
She held his eyes, and her mouth broke into a grin as she lowered her head and shook it from side to side. She had only herself to blame for the situation she found herself in. She had insisted upon involving herself in Rushbury’s affairs, and now Rushbury was insisting that she be as good as her word.
She looked to Mrs. Green and inclined her head. “I shall gladly work alongside you, Mrs. Green. And you, ma’am.” She smiled at the woman beside Mrs. Green.“If”—she said significantly—“you agree to show me how to do the work.”
Both women appeared too stunned to do anything but look at one another and nod, the skin under their chins trembling.
Mr. Derrick stared at Georgiana, looking almost as surprised as the villagers, and she gave a little shrug. There was a sense of satisfaction in astonishing the villagers and forcing them to reconsider their assumptions about her, just as she had been obliged to reconsider her assumptions about them.
Georgiana gazed around herself as she walked toward Granchurch House from the church, admiring the beauty of the emerging Rushbury spring. Each day saw new buds opening and more fresh green filling the tree branches. The sky was often gray and showered rain down upon the village most days, but it seemed much less dreary than when she had arrived weeks before.
She couldn’t stifle a smile and a small laugh as she thought of how things had changed in such a short time. It was so very unlike the constant and unvaried months she had spent in London each year.
In Rushbury, there was a rhythm to life and yet, she never knew what each day would bring. Indeed, how could she have known when she set out from London that she would soon be pledging her support—and her hands—to the task of repairing village roads? Her family would no doubt be appalled. And yet she was full of curiosity and butterflies at the prospect. She wanted the respect and friendship of the villagers, and she wanted to help.
She wouldn’t be completely honest with herself if she didn’t admit that Mr. Derrick had played a large part in her offer of labor, though. She craved his approval in a way she had never before experienced. A smile from him was enough to make her throw caution to the wind. No matter how terrified she felt of her growing attachment to him when they were apart, the moment she was in his presence, the fear fled, and all she could feel was kinship and a desire for more. So much more.
Her brow furrowed as her eyes fell upon a carriage moving toward the stables at Granchurch. Aunt Sara had mentioned nothing about expecting anyone—even Rachel was not expected for another two weeks at least.
She stepped into the small entry hall, and her frown deepened as she strained her ears. A voice resonated from somewhere down the corridor—and it was decidedly male, though too muffled for her to tell any more than that.
She tugged at her bonnet ribbons and removed the bonnet from her head, debating whether to seek out Aunt Sara and her visitor or to go over the surveyor records as she had been planning to: she wanted to be certain that they made the best use possible of the village labor. It would require some input from Mr. Derrick, though, for he was the one who knew which roads would be most important to repair first.
Her curiosity overtook her, though, and she walked the corridor, cocking an ear to listen. Outside of the village, she knew no one in Yorkshire. It was highly unlikely that she would recognize the voice—or the face—of whoever was visiting Aunt Sara.
She paused and then opened the door of the drawing room, freezing and blinking at the sight.
“Georgie! What ho!”
Archibald strode over and wrapped her in a crushing embrace, which she returned after recovering from her shock.
“Archie!” she cried, pulling away and staring at him. “What in the world are you doing here?”
His mouth stretched in a nervous grin. “Needed a repairing lease—been spending the blunt a bit too freely, I’m afraid. Thought I’d come see how you were getting along here!”
Georgiana laughed and embraced him a second time. She had hardly realized how much she missed her family. “Well I cannot say that I am surprised to hear of your financial woes, but that you should choose to come here of all places is certainly unexpected.”
He frowned at her dramatically. “Ho, now. What a slight to Aunt Sara, Georgie. And to this charming village!” He leaned closer to her, raising a hand in front of his mouth to conceal it from Aunt Sara. “Is there a place for a man to get a decent tankard of ale here? I didn’t even see an inn on the drive in.”
Georgiana shook her head. “I believe the closest inn is in the next village over. All the more reason for my surprise at finding you here.”
“Disappointed, are you?” he said, raising his brows.
“Not at all! Very pleasantly surprised, though I must swear you to a vow of secrecy for when you return to Mama and Papa. I think they would be less than pleased to discover what I have been up to since my arrival.”
Aunt Sara waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, they hardly understand how the lines between wealthy and poor blur in a place like this.”
Archie looked from Aunt Sara to Georgie, a very curious light in his eyes. “My Georgie become provincial?” he said in a tone somewhere between impressed and doubtful.
“You have no idea,” she said on a laugh. She patted him on the arm. “Now that I consider it, I think Rushbury a very good choice for you, Archie. You will be hard pressed to find a place to spend any mone
y here.”
“Well that’s a start!” he said. “Now I only need to find a way to raise the wind. Papa told me not to show my face until I could pay off at least a fraction of my debts, and that means not until next quarter, saving some place around here where a man might sit down and play some”—he screwed up his face thoughtfully. “What does one play in the wilds of Yorkshire? Commerce?”
Aunt Sara laughed heartily. “Come, Archibald. This isn’t 1750. We may be far from London, but we in Rushbury can play cards with the best of them! I understand that both Mr. Burke and Mr. Derrick are quite skilled when they choose to engage, which is not often, mind you. But the vicar humored Miss Baxter and me a time or two with a game of piquet, and it was quite obvious that he could have done us in in a trice if not for his being so polite and good-natured.”
“The vicar, you say?” Archie said. “Hm.”
Georgiana felt her cheeks warming unaccountably, and she busied herself with undoing the buttons of her wool coat. It was likely the last time she would be able to wear it without ruining it from perspiration, since the weather had warmed considerably since her arrival. But she wished for the Reeds to know how much she appreciated it and that her desire to pay them above the agreed upon amount was not merely charity but a reflection of how much use she would get out of the coat.
“Yes,” said Aunt Sara, and Georgiana had the uncomfortable suspicion that her aunt was watching her. “Mr. Derrick. You are bound to come to know him if you spend even two days here, for not only is he the centerpiece of the village, he and Georgiana have struck up quite a friendship between them.”
Heat emanated from her cheeks, and she was grateful that one of the buttons was proving more difficult than the rest to undo.
Archie threw his head back as he laughed. “Well, I can’t imagine there were many options. Are there any other families in the area?”
Georgiana knew what he meant, but she found that his words irked her. “I believe there are fifteen or sixteen in the village.”
