Chapter 64 – The Discussion Among Siblings
“And this is the suggestion she provided?” Eleanor watched her brother begin drafting letters after returning from his attempt to cheer up the ragged schoolmistress. Comfort would have been the more accurate term – but it sounded too intimate for a man and woman who bore no such intentions.
“Yes,” Ashborne replied, nodding as he wrote. “All I need to do is persuade them to accept my reasoning and leave the rest to them. I trust I can be quite persuasive when I set my mind to it.”
“Well, if your aim is to persuade them that ‘smog harms our lungs and the air must be cleansed’,” Eleanor said cooly, setting aside the letter she had just skimmed, “then you have failed rather impressively, and wasted a great many words in the process.”
“Why?” Ashborne took back the letter she had examined and glazed over it. “I see nothing wrong with it.”
“There is nothing wrong with it, but there is nothing of value in it either.” Eleanor replied with a small shrug, “It reads as though you have taken up an eccentric new hobby and are writing merely to display it. At best, physicians and chemists may show some interest. Politicians will respond with polite but empty letters, and may even pity our father for having a son unfit to inherit his seat in Parliament or the House of Lords.”
Ashborne raised a brow, set down his pen, and crossed his arms. “Well then, Lady Eleanor of the Wexleighs, what wisdom would you care to bestow upon your blunt brother?”
Eleanor fixed her brother with a cold stare. After a brief silence, she said, “I pity your dear Miss Lysmere, for she had to contend with a man so callow he might squander her wise counsel entirely.”
“I follow her instructions precisely,” Ashborne said, frowning. “Elly, spare me the embellishments and tell me plainly what I have done wrong. You know I dislike ornamental language.”
Eleanor sighed, sat down, and gathered the stack of letters. One by one, she began to point out their flaws.
“This draft here – you are writing to Sir Montfort. True, he is noted for his concern for public health, but only so far as it burnishes his reputation. He cares not a whit for lung diseases or public discomfort. His true interest lies solely in whether the hospital he patronised can boast a lower mortality rate; a charitable institution that continually turns out corpses only serves to tarnish his name.”
“And this journalist – while he professes to investigate the plight of factory children, his true aim is the collection of striking photographic plates. You must understand, brother, that photographs of suffering children serve merely to advance his own reputation as a thorough and daring reporter. He harbours very little genuine concern for their actual welfare.”
“Ah, this is a better choice. Professor Gideon Harcourt is indeed concerned with human health – his advice columns appear frequently in the newspapers. However, if I recall correctly, his laboratory is struggling financially. His inventions have yet to yield profit for his patron. He may endorse your cause in principle, but his influence is limited. How did Miss Lysmere phrase it? Yes, ‘spreading awareness’. Such an endeavor requires resources. He needs substantial funding, another wealthy backer, or a profitable breakthrough to sustain his work.”
“Mr. Kestrel…” Eleanor gave a soft huff. “Yes, this industrialist was the rare sort willing to comply with your many stipulations when establishing his works in our parish – granted, in exchange for your lower lease and the prompt handling of the few theft and affrays we see annually. But that does not mean he would accept the added expense of installing this so-called air filter. He will not waste funds into something that yields him no visible profit.”
“Elly, I assure you, it is not a waste,” Ashborne interjected.
“With the report from your modest laboratory? I doubt a prototype of that scale could ever be applied to a factory chimney,” Eleanor let out a faint, incredulous laugh. “My dear brother, you have visited such factories, you have seen the magnitude of their machinery. Do try to persuade me that something devised in a small workshop could be fitted to such enormous structures. I should very much like to hear it.”
Ashborne opened his mouth – then closed it again.
Recalling the small prototype in his laboratory and comparing it to the cast, complex machines he had seen during his visits, he found himself unable to argue.
“Brother, Miss Lysmere’s estimate was correct – assuming all goes in favour of this measure, it would take at least a decade before such a practical adoption becomes visible.” Eleanor watched her deflated brother pouting as he absorbed her words. “Even I, who read very little of science, understand that time is required for any invention or theory to be tested, validated, and established. Journalists will then exaggerate the findings of the men of science, which in turn draws the attention of politicians. Only after observing public reaction will they begin to draft regulations, and the factories will comply, albeit reluctantly. It is a lengthy process. A decade is an optimistic estimation. If the politicians prove negligent, it may take a century before any real change occurs.”
“But we are in an age of progress,” Ashborne protested. “The engine of industry moved everything forward with great speed.”
“And human nature does not, brother,” Eleanor’s gaze drifted into the distance. “The elite may move like the wind, but the common people can only proceed at a slower stride. And that does not even account for man’s inherent nature – greed and the pursuit of power will pull even the simplest matters into a storm of complications.”
Silence settled between them once more.
At last, Ashborne let out a defeated sigh. “Very well, Elly. What would you suggest, then? Surely there is something within my power. I possess insight that could benefit public health; I cannot simply ignore it and carry on as though I know nothing.”
“Miss Lysmere has already provided an excellent suggestion,” Eleanor said, rolling her eyes. “Though I suspect she did not anticipate your… lack of intelligence in execution.”
“Elly, that is hardly the way a proper lady speaks–”
“It serves perfectly well to illustrate my irritation, brother,” She snatched the pen from his side, grabbed a blank sheet toward her, and began outlining the points he ought to include in his letters.
“First – has your laboratory conducted any trials involving smoke exposure on animals? Good. Then you will write to the men of science within your network – oh, and to the physicians as well. Tell them you possess a study with the potential to form the foundation of an entirely new field of medical and engineering research. That will attract those who seek recognition. For those interested in patents and investment, emphasise the opportunity for profitable innovation. Only then do you mention public health – and even so, it will likely occupy a minor portion of your appeal.”
“Second – write to the politicians. Specifically, those long associated with our family – yes, members of the House of Lords. Present the matter as a fiscal opportunity. Inform them you have a strategy to tax the industrialists. Why? Because the Treasury requires funds for military expenditure. Tensions are rising; I suspect foreign agents have already infiltrated our lands. Naturally, we have done the same… Close your mouth, brother.” She paused, catching Ashborne’s bewildered expression, and sighed. “I should not expect you to deduce the state of foreign intelligence from the press alone. In any case, remember this: chimneys, smoke, bad for public health. Frame your argument around the strength and well-being of the kingdom’s future. Then, tax them, or levy heavy fines, if the emissions remain unclean.”
“Third – engage with the factory tenants in our parish. Inform them you are conducting experiments and require access to their chimneys. Offer to compensate them for the trouble, or perhaps reduce their rent in exchange for the easement. Either bring your laboratory apparatus to their facilities or allow your scientific contacts to do so. Those who wish to retain their leases will comply – though no doubt with grumbling behind closed doors. Present it as a personal interest – a hobby, if you must – one that simply aims to clear the smoke. Let it be known that you have already discussed this endeavor within your own circle. Once certain industrialists – particularly those mindful of their reputation – observe tangible progress, they will know how to respond.”
“Finally – the journalists. They are to be approached last. Do not contact everyone at once; proceed in stages. Reporters are the most unpredictable element in this matter. One can never anticipate what absurd angle they may pursue for the sake of a headline. Be prepared for scandal, rumours, and sensationalism, as such things attract the common eye. In truth, once politicians begin to heed scientific advice – assuming your air filter proves effective and the men of science advocate strongly for it – the press will catch wind of it regardless, even without your prompting.”
Ashborne shut his mouth, took the paper Eleanor had scribbled upon, and added his own notes to ensure he understood what to include in his letter later. He wisely chose not to question how Eleanor had arrived at her conclusions regarding a shadow war of espionage, or how she knew the military required additional funding – all deduced solely from the newspapers he had subscribed to for their detective serial stories. Certainly, the ladies’ fashion magazines offered no such insight?
He set down his pen, reread the page, and his gaze lingered on a single word: Air.
Eleanor had already begun pouring herself a cup of tea. She cast him a brief glance. “Are you not in a hurry to begin your letters? Pray tell you have not conceived any creative additions to my draft.”
Lady Eleanor of the Wexleighs had little patience for her brother’s tendency to improvise. She had done the work, and he had better follow what she had contributed to the letter.
“Well…” Ignoring her pointed look, Ashborne spoke in a reflective tone, recalling something that had left a strong impression on him. “Miss Jade once mentioned something about water contamination. To be more precise, she first used air pollution to describe the smog and miasma before moving on to other terms. And some time before winter – late summer, perhaps early autumn – she spoke of treating sewers and foul water to prevent water pollution, so that we would not end up consuming fish that had fed on refuse in the river… Yes, pollution was the term she used.”
“Foul water?” Eleanor frowned at first – then her expression shifted, her complexion paling. “Fish?!”
“...I have already instructed the kitchen to procure fish from upstream,” Ashborne said, his own expression darkening with a trace of discomfort as well. “I specifically forbade them from purchasing anything caught near our harbour or the city’s reach. Only fish brought down from the upper currents or from the open sea – far from the foulest of the tides – are to be served at our table.”
“No wonder eels and mussels have been absent from our meals lately,” Eleanor murmured, drawing a subtle breath, equal parts disturbed and unsettled by the implication. She turned to him, her gaze now sharp with intent. “My dear brother, in my most humble opinion, a tax on industrial foul water discharge – or regulations concerning the effluent near our harbor – would be a most compelling angle to present to the politicians.”
Ashborne blinked, and said hesitantly, “...But I have not conducted any experiments concerning water. My chemist does not specialise in such matters…”
“Then use your connections!” Eleanor snapped. “You frequent clubs, salons, and every conceivable gathering – you must know whom to approach. Find the appropriate individuals and persuade them. I will draft the necessary points, and you will write to them!”
“Would that not attract an unnecessary degree of attention…?”
“You have always been eccentric. They are accustomed to it,” Eleanor replied cooly, already reaching for a pen. “It is not the first time your name has appeared in the press, anyway. And should these letters lead to public notice, it will hardly be the last time your name appears in the papers. You may as well grow accustomed to it – particularly if you intend to pursue such… ambitiously creative ideas.”
Ashborne pressed his lips together. He recalled the physicians he had once engaged to investigate microorganisms in a well near a poorer neighbourhood, after several residents had fallen ill in cold weather. If a definitive link between the well water and the contagion were proven… perhaps he would need to prepare himself – both for frequent mention in the news and, on occasion, for becoming the headline itself.
“I do not fault Miss Jade for enlightening me,” Ashborne said to his sister, “Nor should you.”
“I am not,” Eleanor replied, rolling her eyes as lowered her head and resumed writing. “On the contrary, I am impressed. I should very much like to meet her, should the opportunity arise.”
“You shall,” Ashborne said with a firm nod. “I intend to persist in inviting her to join our House.”
He did not notice the peculiar look his sister cast in his direction.