Chapter 100 – Lord Ashborne and Lady Canareith
Lady Canareith stood welcoming guests in the grand hall where the auction was to be held.
She fervently hoped the customary pleasantries might be shortened, as her arthritic joints did not agree with standing for longer than a quarter of an hour. However, perhaps because she had been away from Velport for a considerable time, numerous men and women of status wished to have the honour exchanging a word with her. She would have welcomed such flattery in her youth; but having reached an age where she merely awaited the marriage of her grandchildren, she preferred to spend less time on those who shared little connection with her or her House.
If only Lydia or Kathy were here, Lady Canareith mused, shifting her weight onto the walking stick she grasped tightly. She could feel the brass tip pressing deep into the velvety carpet that muted the footsteps flowing into the hall. Having someone to lean upon is far more comfortable than this hard, cold cane.
Of course, she knew both her ward and her housemaid could not be by her side at present. They were occupied in the morning room, busy ensuring the entire affair ran smoothly and without flaw.
Just as she was counting down the minutes she must endure in such a posture, a young gentleman whose presence she had not anticipated appeared before her.
“Lord Ashborne?” Lady Canareith remarked, her voice rising with a touch of surprise. “I was under the impression that your sister was the one interested in this auction.”
“It is I who am interested in the auction, Lady Canareith,” Ashborne replied. After a formal bow, he approached the old Lady and silently yet swiftly offered his arm. “You must have seen the list of vendors; it was I who suggested the first name upon it.”
Lady Canareith raised her brow, and immediately accepted the warm, strong support, releasing her palm from its heavy pressure against the walking stick’s knob.
“Of course I remember,” the old Lady nodded. “I thank you kindly for the recommendation. I could think of no more proper occasion to allow my grandniece the opportunity to practice her charity.”
“It is a great honour for my humble suggestion to be accepted by such an accomplished Lady of our realm.” Unlike many who attempted to flatter Lady Canareith with subtle artifice to display their social ease, Ashborne’s compliment was entirely frank and unveiled.
“Oh, Lord Ashborne,” Lady Canareith smiled, giving his sleeve a light, affectionate pat. “With such genuine speech, you might win the favour of anyone you please. I believe no one could resist such a sincere acquaintance and friend.”
In truth, Lady Canareith had been quite baffled when she first took notice of this young man during a popular parlor game in Velport. While such amusements were suitable for a wide range of ages, most gentlemen of marriageable age were prone to frequent balls and assemblies, rather than a parlour game where children might be present. As the eldest son and heir of the Earl of Wexleigh, she remembered him vaguely as a boy, and recalled his transition into his teenage years, but the impression had been far too fleeting for her to keep this young man in mind.
He was not excessively reclusive, yet neither was he of the flamboyant sort who frequently provided fodder for the gossip-mongers and scandal sheets. While other gentlemen drank, gambled, or frittered away their hours in the lounges of theaters and the opera, this young man – though occasionally teased for his failed minor financial speculations – remained entirely beneath the notice of most calculating Mamas, his eccentric hobbies dismissed as mere harmless distractions.
Until, that was, his name became entangled in the perfumery trade – an affair now dubbed “The Beginning of the Drug Safety War” by journalists eager to draft the most sensational headline. Before that event, many Mamas had failed to realise that such an eligible suitor – landed, wealthy, possessing a formidable network of political influence, untouched by scandal, and capable of weathering the backlash of a shifting market – lay hidden among the nobility of Velport.
Lady Canareith had been filtering suitable candidates for her grandniece. Hence, it was inevitable that she encountered Mamas of various circles while attending gatherings or dinners, picking up details regarding the ledger of prospective gentlemen, which included Lord Ashborne.
Within weeks, he had become the ideal match in the eyes of the Mamas, and the perfect future husband for every maiden at the heart of the kingdom. News of his involvement had even spread to foreign shores, alongside scientific journals and several of Velport’s largest periodicals.
She had initially assumed he was a reserved individual, or perhaps a man of pride who cared little for idle conversation, as she seldom encountered him at balls – indeed, even the most determined Mamas found it difficult to discern where he might appear. Yet, having encountered him recently in parlour games, she had found him possessed of great humour and wit in his storytelling, like a warm breeze to the heart whenever he chose to bestow his attention.
And apparently, he was far more willing to make acquaintances through the medium of parlour games than upon other occasions. A rather eccentric choice, if Lady Canareith were to comment, but she did not mind possessing a young man as a companion with whom to share intriguing stories. Yet as a friend, she felt a trace of concern for him; he did not seem to have many acquaintances or friends of his own age, not even among the gentlemen he had encountered during his university years.
Slowly, it had occurred to her that it was not that he lacked the capacity to form new attachments, but rather that he had formed his own preferences regarding where to bestow his time. He was evidently entirely unmoved by the mere novelty of expanding his acquaintance; indeed, the old Lady had vaguely caught wind that he had quietly dropped several of his former companions, refusing to admit them back into his circle.
“I am aware, my Lady,” Lord Ashborne said, silently assisting the old Lady to adjust her posture more comfortably. “But I would rather spend my hours appreciating the scenery than in the company of people who do not share my interests.”
“And what, pray tell, is your interest?” Lady Canareith inquired.
“Currently, charity and public health,” Lord Ashborne replied with a smile. “Indeed, anything that might do others good.”
“A laudable pursuit.” Lady Canareith nodded approvingly.
Finally, after the conclusion of the pleasantries, she seated herself upon the foremost settee and invited Lord Ashborne to sit beside her – she truly required a gentleman to assist her frail frame while her grandniece and housemaid were unavailable.
Truthfully, she would have chosen to remain far less mobile had it not been for her grandniece’s sake. She would not allow any young lady under her care to suffer a tragic marriage, and she trusted no one save herself in the choosing of a husband for her ward.
And at the present, the most eligible suitor in the room was seated right beside her.
She was quite certain none of the calculating Mamas had successfully approached him yet, nor had he been particularly active in making appearances in the ballrooms. However, for her dear Lydia, she decided to press the matter. “Has your sister been looking after you at that great, drafty estate of yours? Forgive my fading memory, but I cannot quite recall her age. Is she ready for the season? Or does she prefer to help hold your household keys a little longer, until a suitable time arises?”
“She is only fifteen,” Lord Ashborne said, placing a cup of tea by the old Lady’s side. “I should prefer her to remain under our roof for a few more years. However, it shall depend entirely upon her own inclination; I am more than happy to retain her under my care longer, should she deem none suited to her taste.”
“Fulfilling a family life is a woman’s destiny,” Lady Canareith remarked, letting out a soft laugh. “Once destiny calls, no one – not even your father – can prevent her from marrying.”
“Then I shall look forward to trading pointers with a brother-in-law,” the young gentleman replied, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I should certainly prefer a relative whose fencing skills rival my own.”
The resonant voice of the auctioneer upon the raised platform brought a pause to the conversation between Lady Canareith and Lord Ashborne.
Giving the gentleman a sidelong glance as he returned his full attention to the auction pieces, Lady Canareith let out a quiet sigh. He had not elaborated upon her inquiry regarding his estate keys, further confirming her assumption that he was not seeking a wife at present.
Such a shame… Lady Canareith mused as she took a sip of her tea. Still, an eccentric gentleman would not suit Lydia in any case. Perhaps a political gentleman, one who would not mind sharing the hardships of his career with his wife, would suit Lydia better. Then I must direct my attention toward the members of the House of Commons…
Ashborne had no inkling that the old Lady sitting beside him was contemplating who might serve as her grandniece’s husband. His focus was entirely fixed upon the auction pieces submitted by the Wrynfield Domus Ragged School, though he occasionally glanced toward the back of the hall, searching for a familiar silhouette.
He attempted this search several times before finally giving up, content to watch with delight as the auctioneer brought down his hammer to secure each bidding price.
Up until now, the small item produced under the schoolmistress’s guidance had accumulated a total of £17.
He had always known Jade was capable, but to actually witness her competence with his own eyes… it felt mesmerizing.
“£17?” Lady Canareith overheard the amount Lord Ashborne muttered to himself. She glanced toward the auctioneer, who was currently presenting a lightbox that displayed intricate shadow art, illuminated from behind by a portable oil lamp. According to the introduction, it was yet another piece sent by the school Lord Ashborne patronised. Recalling the bidding price of the previous items, her eyes widened. “Oh my, Lord Ashborne, the school has earned £17 from the hammer? That is a remarkable accomplishment!”
“Indeed, another remarkable achievement led by Miss Lysmere, the schoolmistress,” Ashborne nodded, clearly pleased to share details regarding his friend’s work. “She had been deeply concerned for her students’ sustenance. With these funds, she will undoubtedly provide the children with better nourishment.”
With another strike of the hammer, the lightbox was sold for £7, bringing their current total to £24.
Lady Canareith raised her brows and flipped through the catalogue resting beside her teacup. The grand, final piece of the auction was an elaborate decorative screen with an opening bid of £30… submitted by the very same school.
That would bring the grand total to £54 – far exceeding any sum a single, inexperienced artisan could hope to achieve.
The old Lady narrowed her eyes, contemplating the figure. “And what does the schoolmistress intend to do with such an amount? Merely provide the students with better meals for the next three years?”
Ashborne turned to Lady Canareith, his mind instantly turning to how Jade would manage such a fortune. Drawing upon what he knew of her plans, he replied, “Miss Lysmere intends to step down from her post before long, hence she will wish to ensure all necessary expenses are secured before her departure. Assuming she reserves a portion for her successor’s use, and another for the children’s meal to last the coming months, she will still find herself with quite a sum to spare…”
Lady Canareith was quietly formulating her own conclusions. Were she tasked with distributing the funds, she would secure a supply of winter coal while prices were low in the summer months, alongside woolen blankets or cloaks. If any coin remained thereafter, she would expend it upon superior textbooks, and…
“She will establish a workshop!” Ashborne snapped his fingers, a sudden spark of excitement in his eyes. “Yes, she will undoubtedly establish a workshop to employ those children who wish to advance their craftsmanship. Given their current success with these embroidered screens, it will likely be an enterprise dedicated to producing such luxury wares.”
“...A workshop?” Lady Canareith echoed, sinking into deep reflection.
Her own instinctual choices for spending the money would undoubtedly benefit the students, but such relief would last only a few winters; without continuous patronage, the children would inevitably sink back into destitution. However, if the capital were employed – as Lord Ashborne had suggested – to establish a workshop… Though the current students might not reap an immediate reward, in the long run, it would afford them a reliable source of income and a proper trade by which to escape the slums entirely.
The more she pondered the strategic merits of establishing a workshop, the more thoroughly impressed she became by the foresight behind it. Within moments, the various advantages and complications of such endeavour flashed through her mind – she herself might lack the creative spark to conceive of such an innovative measure, but her decades of experience lent her the practical wisdom to see how it might be executed.
“Lord Ashborne,” the old Lady said, studying the young gentleman’s countenance closely. “Are you entirely certain your schoolmistress will act precisely as you anticipate?”
“She will, undoubtedly,” Ashborne replied with a firm nod.
“And what if she proves unable to oversee such an enterprise?”
“Then I shall find others to manage it.” Ashborne considered the point for a brief moment, shrugging his shoulders. “Yes, it is entirely possible that Miss Lysmere will be too occupied to direct a workshop personally. Should that happen, I am certain Father Rochester can designate another member of the clergy to establish it. Miss Lysmere had already provided them with an excellent precedent – she previously established a bakehouse through the sale of biscuits. It ought not to be difficult for them to replicate her methods.”
“The schoolmistress had already established an industry?” Lady Canareith inquired further, listening intently as he explained the iron oven initiative, before nodding her approval. “She has accomplished more than what is typically expected of a woman of her station. It is a profound relief to know these funds will be employed with such prudence. However, a workshop specialising in embroidered screens is a vastly different matter from a common bakehouse. Placing such a luxury trade under the direct administration of a parish domus seems highly improper; a domus has no practical need for such finery, and it would only invite unwanted scrutiny.”
Recognising the opening, Ashborne immediately leaned forward to replenish Lady Canareith’s emptied teacup. “My dearest and most venerable Lady of Charity, would you kindly enlighten us as to how we might conduct such a noble deed without any such interference?”
“Your flattery remains among the most agreeable to my ears,” Lady Canareith murmured with a faint laugh. She nodded, accepting the freshly poured tea, and took a slow sip. “Very well. Listen closely…”