Chapter 101 – Jade’s Decision
Mr. Trent did not make use of the blackboard in conveying his employer’s proposal. His speech was rather concise, yet remarkably clear and somewhat – in Jade’s opinion – inherently powerful.
“My Lord wishes to prepare a suitable dowry for his sister, Lady Eleanor Ashborne. A workshop specialising in fine needlework and textiles would serve as an excellent investment prepared on her ladyship’s behalf.”
He paused, and Jade immediately seized the moment to dissect his words.
Though she had purposely tried to banish Mrs. Maneshore’s previous reminders from her mind, the prickling anxiety regarding her own inability to properly operate a shop of her own as a lone woman still crept into her head whenever she let down her guard.
Now, hearing keywords like “dowry” and “Lady Eleanor”, combined with the upper class’s deeply ingrained habit of subtle hinting, Jade’s mind began to piece the strategy Ashborne provided together:
– If the workshop were established under Lady Eleanor’s name, it would invite no unwanted scrutiny. It was perfectly customary for a noblewoman to hold minor commercial investments as part of her dowry. Local authorities would ensure its safety, petty thieves and idlers would not dare disrupt an enterprise under the patronage of an Earl’s daughter, and affluent customers would buy from it with total confidence.
– Lady Eleanor’s male trustee would, naturally, be Mr. Rich Sponsor. He would oversee the legalities, ensuring that any future husband Lady Eleanor might marry would have no legal ground to claim the property or its profits.
– Leveraging the Wexleighs’ reputation meant they could command premium prices for luxury craftsmanship.
– There were bound to be minor bureaucratic drawbacks, but the advantages overwhelmingly exceeded them.
Jade blinked, her eyes widening slightly in disbelief. She cast another glance at Ashborne, only to be met with his puffed chest and a thoroughly proud smile. She narrowed her eyes. Hm, I don’t think this is his idea…
Mr. Trent continued smoothly. “As Lady Eleanor will require assistance in managing the day-to-day affairs of the establishment, my Lord would prefer an experienced Sister from the domus to guide and oversee the workers.”
Jade straightened her back as the full weight of the plan settled over the room. She observed Mr. Secretary’s stoic expression, then glanced back at Ashborne’s nodding, self-satisfied grin.
– That was an insurance policy. In case that anything went amiss with the management on the aristocratic side, Father Rochester could legally intervene through the nun overseeing the labour. Even if Father Rochester were eventually reassigned, the domus – as a permanent charitable and religious institution – would guarantee the venture remained true to its founding purpose.
– Having a Sister visibly attached to the enterprise ensured its operations would be viewed as a charitable endeavour, guaranteeing the workers’ welfare while safeguarding them from standard industrial exploitation.
– The designated nun and the noble house would cross-examine the ledgers, strictly accounting for every penny and its exact utility.
Okay, this is absolutely not his idea, Jade thought, glaring at Ashborne before returning her focus to Mr. Trent. He’s considerate, but not to this degree, and certainly not in this structurally calculating way. If he were proposing this on his own, he’d probably just say something like, “I’ll build you a workshop” or “I’ll hire a competent steward out of my private account”.
After scanning the room and noting the reactions – particularly Father Rochester’s – Mr. Trent delivered the final point of the proposal. “There are several vacant properties within the parish. They are considered too respectable for the destitute, yet too unpolished for families of comfortable means. My Lord is delighted to offer one of these venues to house the workshop, with all rental fees waived entirely.”
Hmm, now that part must’ve been his idea, Jade mused, nodding inwardly. Someone must’ve taken his raw idea and revised it. Could it be his sister?
“Are there any objections to these proposals?” Mr Trent inquired, looking around the room.
Father Rochester smoothed his moustache thoughtfully before speaking. “I could not conceive of a more proper or secure arrangement for our students. May I inquire who inspired my Lord to such a profoundly considerate proposal?”
“My Lord enjoyed a most illuminating conversation with the Dowager Countess of Canareith during the auction evening,” Mr. Trent replied. He stepped aside, passing several detailed sheets of paper over to Jade. “Here are the particulars complementing the suggestions I have outlined. I trust Miss Jade will be entirely capable of finalising the arrangements as she reviews the text.”
The sudden handoff interrupted Jade’s lingering thoughts about Lady Canareith’s strategic conversation with Ashborne.
“Me?” Jade blinked, taking the documents. She cast a swift eye over the papers and found them impeccably detailed; there was virtually nothing left for her to supplement. Looking up at Father Rochester, she asked, “Father, shall I proceed with these so we can start budgeting for the workshop and assigning the tasks?”
“Yes, Miss Jade,” the White Robe nodded approvingly. “Pray, proceed.”
Thanks to the meticulously prepared sheets of the proposal, the discussion regarding the workshops – both for the embroidery and the paper crafts – as well as the administrative matters following the conclusion of the bazaar had concluded within the hour. Tasks were distributed smoothly; even Clara was assigned a position as an instructor, leaving Jade as the sole individual exempted from the upcoming responsibilities – just as Jade had requested.
As the meeting was dismissed, Sister Geenia and Sister Miriam hurried back to their stations to prepare the midday dinner, while the other attendees gathered into their respective clusters to indulge in quiet small talk.
Lord Ashborne – as per usual – was left to Jade’s care. She quickly dispatched Josh, who had just returned from delivering messages across the parish, to fetch her the tea set and biscuits for the guests, along with a meat pie for herself, as her energy was entirely spent from the morning’s mental exertion.
Soon, the classroom emptied, leaving only Jade, Ashborne, and his loyal secretary in the room. The windows were, as usual, thrown wide open to avoid any hint of scandal.
Jade boiled the water, blanched the dried flowers, and brewed the herbal tea in a seamless flow of motion.
Noticing her unusual quietness, Ashborne checked his initial impulse to wait for her praise or compliments. Instead, he asked in a soft, attentive tone, “You seem troubled, Jade. Is there anything I might assist you with?”
Neither of them noticed Mr. Trent’s subtly raised brow when his employer adopted such an intimate address with the schoolmistress.
“Maybe?” Jade chuckled, dryly. She poured the brew for the three of them, then rubbed her temples, leaning back into her seat. “There’ve been too many things going on over the past few days. I’m a bit lost.”
“Managing a booth at such an affair is an arduous undertaking,” Ashborne nodded with genuine understanding. “And you have been busy without pause since the winter. It may be that you simply require a proper rest.”
“No, it’s not about that,” Jade said, letting out a long sigh. “It’s about my plans for the future… I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but I received an offer from a Lady for a position in her kitchen.”
Ashborne’s eyes narrowed instantly. “Which Lady? Miss Fairborne? She possesses no noble status, if my memory serves.”
As he spoke, he recalled Jade mentioning her time spent in the waiting room the previous evening. He knew the clubhouse steward would never have neglected her on his own accord – Ashborne himself had first brought Jade to the Silver Acorn, an exclusive establishment belonging to Wexleighs. Out of sheer respect for the peerage, the steward could not possibly have left Jade unattended in antechambers alongside private liveried servants… unless someone had actively intervened. This Miss Fairborne could have played a role here as Lade Canareith’s ward.
And now, that same ward had dared to warn Jade when they reported their earnings to the committee… Although Ashborne had encountered Miss Fairborne during a few storytelling sessions and had a vague impression that this young woman was a clever one, he now decided that he would remain distant from her.
“No, not Miss Fairborne,” Jade said, shaking her head. “It’s Lady Glorissa from… what was her House again?” She pulled out the card she had been keeping in her pocket, glanced down at the script and read it aloud. “Lady Glorissa Montagu-Lexious, of the House of Conbury. Honestly, an extremely fancy name.”
Like the name of a heroine or villainess in a drama or novel. Jade added mentally.
“Lady Glorissa?” Ashborne repeated, searching his memory and finding only a vague impression. “I recall the name Montagu-Lexious. Lord Victor Montagu-Lexious was a contemporary of mine during my university years; I attended his natal celebrations a few years back.”
Jade blinked. “Huh. Sounds like their father really wished for their success.”
Victor, victory. Glorissa, glory. Jade dared not imagine what would happen if a child carrying such a name rebelled or failed to live up to a father who valued victory and glory.
“I hold no opinion regarding their first names,” Ashborne waved the matter aside dismissively, pressing forward. “What did she say to cause you such distress?”
“About my career.” Jade blinked, her pace slow and tired – an expression Ashborne had never seen on her face before.
He observed her closely for a moment before speaking. “Your ambition of managing your own confectionery? I have always considered that a brilliant path. You have looked forward to it for so long, so what could be causing you such doubt? I am certain Father Rochester would gladly provide you with a stellar character* if you require an introduction to a reputable hotel or a grand kitchen, allowing you to secure excellent wages. Surely capital is not your primary concern?”
“Yeah… Actually, I sold a recipe to Lady Glorissa, so technically,” Jade gave a light, humourless chuckle, “I can afford to rent a space and open my confectionery right now.”
Ashborne met Jade’s gaze when she asked, “Ashborne. If I open a shop now, would you support me?”
The Landlord replied with a smile, “Of course. In fact, I would ready a prime premise for you immediately and reduce your rent, so long as you agree to supply my afternoon treats.”
Jade’s smile faded slightly, and slowly. And so did Ashborne’s.
They exchanged a long, heavy look, and the lighthearted in the classroom atmosphere shifted.
“Within your area. Protected by you,” Jade said calmly. “I appreciate the support, but I would prefer someone could have actually spelled it out for me, that legally and socially speaking, a single woman like me cannot and should not operate a shop of her own here.”
“Jade…”
“I know, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just… I’m just venting my frustration at you,” Jade rubbed her face quite harshly with both hands, as if trying to wake herself from a dream. “It’s my own fault. I’m the one who failed to notice the nuances and the regulations here.”
If Jade were to be honest, she didn’t intend to seek a solution from Ashborne. She simply needed a safe place to dump her emotional baggage. Not with Father Rochester, the father figure of the entire domus. Not with Sister Miriam, who carried her own trauma, or Sister Geenia, who loved to chat with neighbourhood farm ladies and would likely and unintentionally turned her venting into local rumours. Not with the simple and inexperienced Clara or her fragile mother. And certainly not with Miss Arrowot, who clearly intended to keep their interaction strictly professional and had no interest in being her friend.
Ashborne was her only friend whom she could safely trash all her troubles and messy thoughts without needing to worry if her problem would become his problem – he was, after all, a nobleman invincible to all her petty problems.
But perhaps Jade had been too immersed in mourning her unachievable future. She had forgotten that Ashborne was a man of action, the sort whose impulsive solutions triggered massive chain reactions that could easily spiral out of both their control if not handled carefully…
Ashborne tightened his lips before speaking again. “Jade, I recall you delivering an entire lesson to the students regarding marriage regulations.”
He had naturally assumed she already understood the broader legal landscape when she conducted that lesson.
“...yeah.” Jade dipped her head in defeat. “But I only researched the laws on marriage settlements and divorces, because I wanna make sure my students wouldn’t get trapped in a miserable marriage. I didn’t realise that I was trapped within the system too.”
Jade curled her lips slightly, and said lightly. “Somehow… I forgot what happens before the part where ‘a woman’s belongings become their husbands once they marry’. Why, of course – if women can’t legally own anything after marriage, naturally they can’t own anything before it either. Everything belongs to their fathers… Nothing legally belongs to a woman. A document signed by women is a joke.”
Ashborne despised seeing the usually brilliant, capable Miss Jade – who always successfully overcome challenges – look so thoroughly defeated. He immediately offered the comforts his privilege could provide. “Jade, there are always ways around it–”
“By staying under your protection forever?” Jade cast him a brief glance before taking a sip of her tea, her fingertips absorbing the warmth radiating from the cup.
“I do not see why not.” Ashborne explained, assuming Jade simply did not understand the unwritten code of the aristocracy, given her honest admission of ignorance moments ago. “As long as you reside upon my land, and with me acting as your patron, no one would ever dare lay a finger on you. I trust you have no desire to move to some distant county far beyond my reach?”
“You’re right about me not liking the idea of moving around,” Jade nodded, but she raised her forefinger and countered. “But, what if one day, someone with a status much higher than yours decides to make trouble for me? Let’s say a Prince, suddenly takes a high interest in taking away my shop, even going so far as to pressure you to hand it over. What could you do then? Because legally speaking, the shop belongs to you, not me. I wouldn’t even have the legal standing to file a lawsuit to claim it back. And you? Your father would never allow you to sue the Crown just to protect a tiny confectionery, risking your entire family’s standing. I wouldn’t allow you to back me up either.”
Ashborne blinked, silenced.
Jade looked at him, and chuckled, “I guess you’d try to compensate me if something like that ever happened. You’re the sort of guy who would do this kinda stuff.”
Ashborne still remained quiet, appearing to sink into deep thoughts.
A long moment of silence settled over the room after she dropped those words.
Jade took another sip of her herbal tea, trying to calm herself down from her messy thoughts. Now that she had finished her emotional dumping, it was time to solve the problem… and she decided to think about all that later. Right now, she preferred something light and happy – like finding out what had happened after Mr. Rich Sponsor’s drunken night!
Yep, the Spring Ball night where he came just to cast her a glance before throwing up in front of the domus! Jade wondered what happened to him after that. Did he regret getting drunk? Or that he just sleeps through it all day?
Just as she was trying to initiate a new topic to cheer up the mood, she noticed his gaze slowly shifting, hardening into a look of determination… as if he had just decided to do something incredibly drastic that she would absolutely, positively not approve of…
She blinked, then a sudden, terrifying dawning of realisation hit her. She immediately slapped his arm hard and hissed, “Stop! Stop what you’re thinking right now!”
Mr. Trent, who had already been quite concerned by the intimate manner in which the two addressed one another, nearly leapt out of his chair when the commoner physically assaulted the nobleman – though, quite clearly, the nobleman did not mind the insult at all.
In fact, Ashborne merely pressed his palm against the spot where he had received the slap, a smirk playing on his lips as he asked, “And what precisely was I thinking?”
Jade snarled, “Don’t you dare try to challenge another set of national regulations! You haven’t even totally brushed yourself off from the drug safety laws and clean air acts! I told you before – if you’re not into politics, then don’t act like you are. Hush! Stay away from those thoughts!”
“But your dilemma can only be solved by amending the laws regarding women’s property rights–”
“And there will be an actual revolutionist to do that job, not you!” Jade hissed back.
Now, Jade was hit by a massive wave of regret for venting her pressure on him. This was never his business to begin with; he could have lived happily ever after like a fairy-tale prince with his immense status and fortune.
Though plenty of historic activists had achieved great success, she knew from her previous life that far more had met a tragic end throughout history. She did not want to see a headline announcing his death or ruin… all because of what she had babbled over a cup of tea.
If only she had learned when to shut up. She had done pretty well by remaining quiet online when she came across rage-baiting comments or posts, so why she couldn’t stop babbling now…
He’s a man who takes action… Jade’s mind raced, trying to come up with an immediate distraction to stop him from venturing into another political meat grinder. Something that would interest him enough to instantly ditch the idea of challenging another regulation…
“Jade, I truly think–”
“Is your offer still valid?” Jade interrupted him loudly, cutting his sentence off at the pass.
He blinked, straightening his posture with a confused expression. “My offer of…”
“I’m moving into your kitchens the second I quit my teaching post,” Jade concluded. Her tone was not a suggestion; she was straight-up making the decision for him, thrusting her hand out across the table. “So you’ve gotta prepare a state-of-art private kitchen for me within your estate, start right now. Deal?”
Ashborne’s mind instantly cleared of all the grand political reformations that had been running through it just moments before. His eyes brightened, and he quickly reached out, seizing her hand in a firm shake.
“Deal!”