12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

“ A nd it’s quite remarkable to see the transformation. A hot meal, a loaf of bread, a kind word – it does wonders for them, doesn’t it, Ernest,” Caroline said.

Ernest turned to her in surprise. He had quite forgotten he was in the midst of a conversation with the mayor, for he had been watching Alicia talking to the woman with eight children sitting by the water pump. She had come over briefly to ask for the use of a horse and cart to take them back across the moor, explaining something of the tragic story, even as Caroline had continued her self-eulogizing to the mayor.

“Oh…yes, it does,” Ernest said, turning his attention back to the mayor, who had come to watch the proceedings in the market square wearing his chains of office.

“I must say, Lord Crawshaw, I’m very impressed with what you’ve done here,” the mayor said, nodding, as he looked around at the families eating their soup and bread.

“But it really wasn’t anything to do with me,” Ernest replied.

He did not want to receive the mayor’s adulation, not for something he had not done. And even if this act of charity had been his responsibility, he would have shied away from praise. But Caroline tutted.

“Oh, don’t be so modest, Ernest. Granted, it was myself and Alicia who did the work, but you…” she began, even as Ernest interrupted her.

“It was Alicia who did it,” he said, and Caroline looked somewhat taken aback.

Ernest would not normally have contradicted her. He had never contradicted her. But the contrast between the two of them was so obvious as to not fail to move him. There was Alicia, comforting a poor family and doing everything she could to help them, even at her own expense, and here was Caroline, acting in her usual self-aggrandizing manner, extolling her virtues, and tossing Alicia a bone as she did so.

“Miss Saunders?” the mayor asked, and Ernest nodded.

“This was all her idea,” Ernest replied.

Caroline’s face turned red with anger, even as she tried to disguise her obvious outrage.

“Well…it was…my recipe for the soup,” she stammered.

“And I’m sure the poor are very grateful for how it tasted, but it wouldn’t have been made, or served, or kept warm without Alicia having organized things, would it?” Ernest replied.

He knew it was a bad idea to offend Caroline. She took his apparent gratitude for granted, playing it against him, even as now he had had enough.

“No…well, she’s to be congratulated, I’m sure,” Caroline stammered, and Ernest nodded.

“Yes, and I’m sure you’ll help her in whatever endeavors she pursues next. I’m sure this isn’t her only idea, is it? Or yours?” he replied.

Ernest was not opposed to Caroline’s help. He needed it, to an extent – and certainly the financial backing of her father was essential. But Ernest had no intention of allowing her to do nothing and take all the praise. She looked at him with a mixture of anger and surprise, for he had never crossed the line of criticism, even as he had kept his true feelings hidden. Had he revealed them, he would have told Caroline she was nothing but a fraud, whose outward appearances produced a veneer of sanctity, whilst underneath, she cared only about herself.

“Not at all, no. I was only saying to Alicia earlier, I might sell some of my dresses to raise funds for the new school. It’s not fair to expect my father to contribute everything, though he’s only too happy to do so, of course,” Caroline replied, reasserting herself, as the mayor nodded.

“Well, I think it’s admirable – you’ve done a great service to us all, Lord Crawshaw. I thank you on behalf of all those families who’ve benefited from your generosity, and that of Miss Saunders, too,” he said, nodding to them both, before walking away to inspect the soup distribution.

Caroline glared angrily at Ernest, who merely ignored her in favor of returning his gaze to Alicia. She was now helping the children onto the cart, along with their mother.

“Why did you say those things? You know I helped to organize all this. Where’s my credit?” Caroline demanded, and Ernest turned to her and sighed.

“It’s not a competition, Caroline. We’re not doing any of this for adulation and applause. We’re doing it to help those in need. Don’t you see that?” he asked, and Caroline was shamed into silence.

Ernest turned his attentions back to Alicia, and Caroline marched off, calling out instructions to the various aristocratic ladies in attendance. Ernest shook his head. He had held his tongue, but only barely. The last of the children was now sitting on the cart, and the horse was led on by a stable hand whom Ernest had instructed to go with them.

“She’s an impressive woman,” Ernest said to himself, watching as Alicia waved off the cart, the eight children all waving back, and their mother in floods of tears as she called out her thanks.

“God bless you, Miss Saunders, God bless you,” she said, and others expressed similar sentiments.

Alicia had gone above and beyond any expectations, and Ernest could only be grateful to have her support in opening the school. Caroline was jealous, he knew that, but she would have to learn to live with her rival, and perhaps Alicia’s actions would make the viscount’s daughter realize she, too, could act altruistically if she so chose.

“You were very kind to that family,” Ernest said, coming to stand next to Alicia, and hoping Caroline would have the good sense not to follow.

She turned to him and smiled.

“It’s the same story, though, isn’t it? They’ve all got a story – everyone here. I helped one family, but I can’t help them all,” she said, sighing and shaking her head.

“Don’t be disheartened. I felt the same way when I first went to Manchester and saw the appalling poverty so many people live in. It makes me so angry… I see the drawings in the periodicals of the Regent. He lives in debauched luxury whilst his subjects starve. It’s why they had a revolution in France – didn’t Marie Antoinette tell the peasants to eat cake when they ran out of bread? She paid for it with her head, and if the nobility of this country aren’t careful…” Ernest said, his words trailing off.

He had thought a great deal about France in recent months, knowing how easily the radical politics of their revolution could spill out across the channel. The injustices of poverty, the wealth of the aristocracy, the corruption of the elite – it was a simmering pot waiting to boil over…

“Do you think the people would rise up?” Alicia asked, and Ernest shrugged.

“A man with a full stomach and a purpose can be placated. But without food and work…who knows,” he said, glancing around at the poor families now finishing their soup.

“Then we mustn’t give them a reason to do so,” Alicia replied, in a somewhat practical tone.

“Alicia, I…I wanted to say I’m sorry for what Caroline did today. I know she had nothing to do with organizing all of this. It was you who did it, but she’s the one who takes the credit for everything. I’m sorry,” Ernest said.

He wanted to apologize to her, to make her see he was not taken in by Caroline, even as he could not yet bring himself to share his true feelings for her. Alicia nodded, glancing over to where Caroline was supervising the dousing of the fires.

“She likes to think of herself as the one in charge. I don’t mind. But you shouldn’t let her dictate to you,” Alicia said, and Ernest sighed.

He knew it made him look weak, and had it not been for the money the viscount provided, he would have gladly sent Caroline away. But the thought of the children – of the school – held him back. He had come close to telling Caroline the truth, but guilt had held him back – guilt at the thought of those who would suffer if he placed his own happiness before all else.

“Do you think I’m weak?” he asked, but Alicia shook her head.

“No, I think she’s cunning, and I feel sorry for you, Ernest – because you can’t say what you truly feel,” she replied.

Ernest was taken aback by this. He would have preferred her to have agreed with him. He believed himself to be weak – a weakness for gambling, a weakness for taking risks, a weakness for submitting to a woman who held him in her sway. But instead, Alicia felt sorry for him, and this made him feel even more guilty for his past.

“No…you’re right. I can’t say what I truly feel. It’s an impossible situation,” he replied.

“But what’s holding you back? Is it just the money?” Alicia asked.

Had it only been about money, Ernest might have given in. But Caroline’s hold over him was only one example of how Ernest was trapped. The secrets of his past were enough to make him wary of trusting anyone – even Alicia. He did not want her opinion of him to alter, nor did he want to find himself brought down by a scandal once hushed up. His father had done all he could to protect him, and the schools were Ernest’s way of repaying him. A great deal was riding on it, and Ernest was not about to jeopardize everything he had worked so hard to build.

“She…she’s always been so overbearing,” Ernest replied, and Alicia nodded.

“That’s certainly true. But would you…marry her?” she asked.

Again, Ernest was taken aback. Alicia had no qualms in speaking her mind, and now she raised her eyebrows, waiting for his answer. He stammered, uncertain of what to say. To admit as much would be to admit his own defeat, but to deny it would be a lie. He knew what Caroline wanted, and that the future of the schools depended on it. No marriage, no money. No money, no schools. But if his past was revealed, Ernest knew there would be little hope in securing the marriage and thus the money. He was teetering on the edge of a precipice, and it was only a matter of time before he fell…

“I…I don’t know. Who knows…” he said, hoping to sound no-committal, even as Alicia shook her head.

“You won’t be happy though, will you? If you marry her, I mean. I can see it in your eyes. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself for the good of the schools. You’ve done nothing but behave with honor and integrity. Lots of people are willing to support you. It’s not like you’ve got some dreadful secret to hide,” Alicia said, and Ernest smiled weakly.

“No…I suppose not,” he said, shaking his head.

“Anyway, I should be getting on. There’s still a lot to do, and I doubt Caroline’s going to do anything but make out as though she’s busy,” Alicia said.

Ernest smiled. He liked the way Alicia spoke her mind. She said what she was thinking – a refreshing trait amongst the ton, whose members so often thought the opposite of what they were saying. He watched as she paused to talk to a woman with a blind child, assuring him of a place at the school, and listening as the woman poured out her woes. Caroline, meanwhile, was talking loudly to several of the aristocratic women, speaking of her plans for the school, but having made no attempt to engage with the poor and needy huddled around her. The contrast was clear, and it made Ernest sad to think of what might have been.

She really is a delightful creature, he thought to himself, watching as Alicia now began to help douse the fires.

If he had not known it before, he knew it now, and he could not help but feel his attraction for the merchant’s daughter growing ever stronger.

“I overheard you being short with Caroline,” a voice to his side said, and Ernest looked up to find his sister standing next to him.

He smiled and shook his head.

“I held my tongue,” he said, as she slipped her arm into his.

“Why should you have to? She needs to be told. It’s quite ridiculous. She lauds it over you – and Alicia, too,” Isobel said.

“Perhaps…but what can I do about it? I’m trapped, Isobel. I’ve got no choice but to put up with her. If she could just be…more compassionate, that’s all,” he said, and Isobel smiled.

“Caroline doesn’t care about these people. She cares about being the Duchess of Crawshaw – that’s all. That’s always been her aim – and that of her father, too. She didn’t like it when you questioned her and talked back to her. But she needs those reminders, Ernest. She shouldn’t be allowed to get away with treating you like this,” Isobel said.

Ernest sighed. He was tired of being caught in the middle of a game he did not want to play. Life was never simple, and he felt as though he was paying for his past mistakes, even as his father had assured him his atonement was over.

“Don’t be trapped by the past, Ernest. We can all be blinded in one way or another. Open your eyes to the future – a better future,” the duke had said.

Ernest had wanted to believe him, but still the guilt was there, and try as he might, he could not rid himself of that sense of necessary self-punishment.

“I don’t know…perhaps it’s all a mistake. The schools, the soup kitchen – trying to help anyone,” Ernest said, but his sister shook her head.

“No, not at all – it’s not a mistake. You’re doing the right thing,” she said, and Ernest smiled at her.

“In every way? What if I married Caroline? Would I be making a mistake then?” he asked.

His sister sighed.

“I’d have to say yes, Ernest. But the alternative… well, if you married Alicia, you’d be sealing the fate of the school,” she replied.

“But I can’t marry Alicia – think of what she’d say if she discovered I was…a gambler,” Ernest replied, and his sister shook her head.

“But you’re not anymore, though I’d suggest you should be in this case. Why not take a gamble on Alicia? I think she’s worth it,” Isobel replied, hurrying off to help Alicia, and leaving Ernest with a great deal to think about…