Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Gemma sat outside in the shade of the old silver oak tree. She had gone to their new tenants and offered the children an outing. Gemma had heard of the children in the village who had recently lost their parents.

As the other tenants that stayed on their land had been there all their lives, the children—who had been there for only a year—were considered new. Gemma thought back to the day she had been told about the children. She had set out to the village the moment she had been informed.

Gemma had approached the policeman who had been put in charge of the children, until the people from the orphanage came to get them, and she had asked if anyone from the village had inquired about fostering or adopting a child. Gemma had thought that the families of the village would have helped immediately.

“Not one of them, ma’am,” the policeman had said, shaking his head. It turned out that not one family was willing to help these unfortunate young children. Some families she could understand were unable to carry the financial burden of another mouth to feed. The people she found difficult to understand were those fully capable of helping, yet chose not to.

Gemma had then gone to the orphanage herself and asked permission to house the children in one of the smaller houses on their property. Gemma then set about employing two full-time nannies, who treated all six children as if they were their own. After a year, they started to adjust to their new lives. They had settled into a routine and showed signs of adjusting well to their new home.

They loved the house they were given and the nannies who lived with them. Gemma had missed playing with the children and wanted to see how they were. So, today, she set most of her tasks aside to go and see them.

“Gemma!” Tess, the youngest child, yelled when she saw Gemma coming towards them. The other children came running from where they had been playing to greet her. They all spoke together in their excitement.

“One at a time,” Gemma said and laughed. The children had all tried to hug Gemma instead of waiting their turn. Before Gemma could avoid it, they had toppled her over. They laughed as Gemma pretended to be mad just to catch them to make them pay with tickles.

Gemma surrendered when they banded together and tried to tickle her. They celebrated their victory and went on with their games. Gemma went over to one of the nannies, Simone, who watched nearby. Simone almost always smiled and had a seemly endless amount of patience.

Her blonde hair was pleated into a different style every day. She had a warm, round face and clear, green eyes. She wore a floral dress with no shoes. Not only that, but she had told Gemma that it gave her moving speed when running after the children. Gemma suspect though that she simply did not enjoy wearing shoes.

“Good morning,” Gemma said cheerfully.

“Good morning, Ma’am. The children are overjoyed to see you as always.” Simone replied with equal cheer.

“If I am to be honest, I am just as happy to see them. How is their schooling going?”

“Oh, ma’am, these lovely children are always on their best behavior. Their minds are very sharp, and they love to learn.” Simone said proudly.

“That is good news. I knew your gentle, patient manner would get through to them,” Gemma replied.

“Thank you, ma’am. Would you like to join us for the next class after the break?” Simone asked.

“I would, thank you,” Gemma replied. She looked over to the children laughing as Tess tried to catch them.

It Is a sight made sweeter by how they had come from their bitter start, Gemma thought, as emotions made her throat tighten up.

When she first met the children, Gemma’s first reaction was to hug them all and tell them what amazing children they were. The fact that their parents had been honest, hardworking people who had worked hard for every scrap of food was never considered enough by society to make them worthy. If the children had inherited land or held a title, they would have fought to adopt the children.

Can people be that cold? Gemma thought and when dismissed it from her mind. She knew herself well enough to know that if she dwelled on the subject too long, it would make her melancholy.

Simone rang a little bell, and the children heard it and came back to class. The wooden cabin had been built as a house that gave each of the children their room, and it had a kitchen and sitting area. The sitting area had been converted into a classroom.

There were desks with writing supplies inside them, chairs, and a big desk and chair for the teacher. The walls had an assortment of drawings stuck to them and almost covered the wood like wallpaper.

“Please, take my chair, ma’am,” Simone said as she went to her desk to pull the chair out.

“Thank you so much,” Gemma said as she sat down and waited for the lesson to start.

“Today we shall start our reading from where we left off yesterday,” Simone started, and the children opened their desks to get their books. “Harvey, would you start from paragraph three in chapter five?”

The young man was the oldest of the children and read the story well. Next, the oldest girl read, and Gemma felt proud that she did an even better job. When it came to the next child, she looked at the book nervously and then at Simone.

“I know you can do it, Angel. You do not have to be scared,” Simone said as she went to the child’s desk and came down to her height.

The young child smiled and looked at the book again. “The…the ra…rabbit is small a…and he is…soft,” Angel said and looked up to Simone.

“Oh, that is wonderful. Superb reading, well done.” Simone said as she hugged Angel. The child beamed up at her.

“Stacey, it is your turn now,” Simone said.

Stacey stood up and read a piece before it was her younger brother Michael’s turn and then lastly little Tess.

“Tess, would you kindly tell us what has happened in the story,” Simone asked and then came to stand close to Gemma. “She has not yet learned to read, and I believe she has trouble with words as her sister Angel does,” she said softly to Gemma.

“The rabbit lost his carrots and then he did find them,” Tess replied in her four-year-old way of speaking.

“Excellent Tess. Yes, the rabbit did lose his carrot and then found it. Now, he has met a snail who has lost his shell. Do you think he will find it again?” Simone asked, and Tess nodded enthusiastically.

Next, the children were asked to write a letter to any person of their choosing. Gemma quietly left while the children focused on their work.

“I will return by lunchtime with something to eat, Gemma whispered to Simone. Simone nodded in reply. Gemma loved cooking. To her, it was more than making food. It was about making a connection with people. You could better your health just by monitoring what you eat.

Gemma walked up the path that led to the main house. The first thing she did when she got home was to start preparations for lunch.

“Mrs. Whimbly, would you please bake a tart for lunch, best make it two or my grandmama will never forgive me,” Gemma asked the head cook.

“At once, ma’am,” Mrs. Whimbly replied. Gemma readied a basket full of food to take and eat with the children. She packed sandwiches and sweet pastries, while the tart was being made. Gemma then went searching for her mother. She would like to get her knitting further along than what it was. Autumn was quickly giving way to winter, and Gemma wanted to have the scarves, mittens, and socks ready in time.

Gemma found her mother sitting on the patio with tea next to her on the table and her knitting in front of her.

“How are the children?” her mother asked as she put her knitting needles down.

“They are all looking very well, Mother. I do wish you could have seen them. I had the privilege of sitting in on a lesson. They all read beautifully,” Gemma said proudly.

“I do wish my knees were more merciful. I can barely make it about the house without the stiffness setting in,” her mother lamented. She had been so thrilled when they had taken the children in. All her children had grown into adulthood, and now Margaret had stood in as their grandmother of sorts. They often sent pictures they had drawn to Margaret, and it made her feel closer to them.

“If it means that much to you, mother. I will invite them here for tea. Simone or Emily can come with me. I will be here. We will keep an eye on them for you. then they can be here for as long as you wish. “Gemma said. She could not stand to see her mother so upset. Anything she could do to alleviate pain in someone she loved, she would do.

“You would go to such trouble just to ease an old woman’s heart? Gemma, you truly are the kindest person I know,” her mother remarked as she got up to embrace her daughter. “That is why I want you to be settled, my dear,” Margaret went on, and looked at Gemma with such love that she could not remain annoyed at her mother for broaching the subject for the third time in the last few weeks.

The fact that her mother might be feeling she was getting on in years saddened her. Perhaps she truly did wish to have a grandchild, that it was not just insisted upon as a motherly duty.

“Of course I would, mother. I should think that you know I love you,” Gemma replied. “I know you only mention it out of concern. I still do not think that marriage is something that would suit me. My ways are so deviated from what is considered the normal way of behaving. I am not even sure if the person who could adjust even exists,” Gemma said, being honest, as she had always been with her mother.

The sentence had barely left her lips when her mind went to Lothar. If she were as honest with herself as she was with her family, she would admit that he had periodically floated into her mind since she had last seen him at her cousin’s garden party.

He had not laughed at her or looked at her as a fool when her plate had spilled on her. She did not know what to say after that. She had thought that making light of it would loosen the tension. Yet when she had tried to think of something, her mind had gone blank. She had thus decided to retreat.

She had immediately regretted her decision when she had called for her carriage. She had longed to spend more time speaking to Lothar.

He Is interesting. That is all there is to it. Gemma had thought as they had gotten further and further away from the garden party. Her heart had felt heavy, and she missed his presence soon after departing.

“What about the duke?” Margaret asked. Gemma had been deeply in thought and was taken aback by her mother, seeming to read her mind.

“What about him, mother?” Gemma asked instead of answering the question.

“Besides the fact that you blush at the mere mention of his name? Nothing at all, my dear.” Margaret said with a knowing smile.

“I do not!” Gemma said, putting her hands on her cheeks. They did indeed feel warm to the touch.

“Might you give this young man a chance if he were to call?” Margaret asked.

“If he does, then yes, I shall, Mother,” Gemma said, looking at her mother in the eyes.

“Do you think there is any reason that he would not,” Margaret asked with concern.

“I barely know the man, mother. It would be very presumptuous of me to expect every man I meet, once or twice, to fall in love with me,” Gemma answered, even though her chest hurt to think that he would reject her.

He does seem to have a hold of my heart. First my imagination and now this. What next? My very soul? Gemma thought as it dawned on her that forgetting The Duke of Exeter would be an impossibility.

“I do not see why not,” Margaret said with a grin. Gemma chuckled at her mother’s sense of humor. “It does my heart good to hear you laugh. You should endeavor to do it more often.”

“It shall be easy as long as I keep your company, Mother,” Gemma replied fondly.

“Thank you, my dear girl. Now then, I have almost finished the socks,” Margaret said proudly.

“That was quick. I have managed to get halfway done with the scarves, and their caps are all done,” Gemma replied.

“That is wonderful. I believe we shall make it in time before the cold.” Margaret stated.

“I am confident, too. You know, mother. I think one of the reasons why I do not think I could get married is partly my approach to things. I enjoy making winter clothes for the children, I like to spend time with them. This is a very personal way to help. Most people would support them financially and I suppose there is nothing wrong with that. It is probably easier for them than to get to know who you are helping,” Gemma explained.

“I understand that much, my dear. What has that got to do with marriage?” Margaret asked, looking truly confused.

“I fear that I will not find a husband with the same values as mine. What if he does not like children or spending time with those less fortunate? Being there for those that I am capable of means the very world to me,” Gemma replied, with a heavy sigh.

“I imagine it will sort itself out. First, you would need to have a husband. Then, you can assess his values. At the very least, allow suitors to court you,” Margaret said as she reached for her cold tea and took a sip. Gemma knew it was cold by the way her mother grimaced and winced after drinking it.

“Shall I get us more tea?” Gemma asked her mother. Just then, her father appeared at the door.

“Is everything quite alright, my love?” Margaret asked him.

“I have received a letter,” her father announced.

“Well? From whom? What does it say?” Margaret asked.

“It is a letter from the Duke of Exeter,” he began with a chuckle at his wife’s curiosity. Gemma could not help the family of butterflies that had been set free in her stomach at the mention of Lothar having sent a letter.

Would you calm down? Gemma’s mind tried in vain to calm her down. It could just be for business. Father is, after all, one of the best businessmen I have ever come across. He might simply want his advice.

“He has asked my permission to engage in a courtship with you,” her father went on with a smile.

Alright. Perhaps this may not be about business after all , Gemma thought, as her heart beat at an almost sickening pace.