Marriage with a Proper Stranger. Karyn GerrardЧитать онлайн книгу.
Martin sat next to the earl, pen, ink, and parchment at the ready to record the minutes. The footmen moved efficiently around the table, bringing the scones, cheese turnovers, and fruit, and refilling beverages as the men conversed.
“I’ve received word that our eccentric neighbor, Sir Walter Keenan, has passed away,” the earl stated.
Riordan’s mouth quirked with amusement. Not at the news of Sir Walter’s death, but at the fact his grandfather found him eccentric, considering what society thought of the Wollstonecrafts. Sir Walter was an ex-soldier, granted knighthood for his bravery in the Peninsular War at Salamanca in 1808. Since returning home from the army in 1819, he had lived as a hermit.
“Since he is unmarried, the property is passing to his next of kin,” his grandfather continued. “His niece, a widow, I don’t know her name, is the beneficiary. He’s been our neighbor for more than thirty-five years. Someone should put in an appearance at his funeral.”
Julian shook his head. “The widow will be inheriting a run-down manor, to say the least. I will not be able to attend. I am heading to London, the autumn session of parliament, as I’ve meetings with Lord Ashley.” Since his father had a courtesy title, he didn’t sit in the House of Lords. He served as a member of parliament for this region of Kent, though he often worked with the upper chamber on many bills.
Riordan would not be able to attend the funeral either, but he decided he would leave his announcement for the end of the gathering. Why stir up the hornet’s nest at this juncture?
“How go the discussions for restricting the number of work hours?” Garrett asked as he sipped his tea. All the other men gave him incredulous looks. “What? I read the papers, and I am a member of this family. I have broadminded views.”
“I’m working with Lord Ashley to reduce the workweek to sixty hours for women and children,” Julian replied. “We are being fought tooth and nail. I predict a compromise somewhere between sixty and seventy.”
The earl harrumphed. “Still too long.”
Julian buttered his cinnamon scone. “I agree, but most peers strongly believe women and children are an integral part of a family’s earning power, and under the man of the house’s command. Most do not want any regulations at all.”
Riordan glanced across the table at his brother. Aidan’s expression held a combination of nausea and boredom. “I’ve read that one out of every three citizens is under the age of fifteen, which is the reason many children labor in textile mills and coal mines,” Riordan said.
Julian nodded. “True. There should be regulations in place to protect the innocent. Another touchy subject is repealing the Corn Laws.”
“Blasted protectionism. I was against it from the first,” the earl boomed. “By imposing restrictions on imported wheat, which in turn inflates grain prices, all it has done is managed to further deepen and expand the wretched poverty infecting this country.”
“I agree, Father. It is going to be a nasty fight. I predict it will shake the foundations of the British government.” Julian popped a piece of scone into his mouth and swallowed. “You should go with me to London instead of waiting until the middle of next month. There are many battles to be fought, and we need every progressive voice we can muster.”
“Yes, perhaps I will,” the earl replied.
Riordan’s heart swelled with pride as he listened to his father’s impassioned words. The subject changed to the running of the estate, and Garrett brought everyone up to date on the horse breeding, farming, and the surrounding tenants.
Aidan remained silent, slowly picking away at his toast and cheese.
“Aidan,” Julian said, his voice tight with annoyance. “You are the heir. You will be carrying our progressive torch into the future. Have you nothing to offer?”
Aidan looked up, a bored expression on his face. “Not this morning, Father.”
The rumblings of a heated argument simmered near the surface, and because of it, Riordan decided to make his announcement to divert away from a family spat. At least, he hoped it would. “I have news. I have accepted a position as schoolmaster in the town of Carrbury, in East Sussex.”
The table grew quiet and all eyes turned to him. Well, he’d shocked them into silence. Might as well continue. “One of our main concerns is neglected, exploited, and abused children. Trying to pass compulsory education is defeated at every turn for the exact reason you mentioned, Father. The notion that children be kept uneducated and ignorant so that it makes them better workers is inherently heinous.”
The men all grumbled, nodding and agreeing with his assessment. Even Aidan reacted with a brisk nod. Riordan pushed on. “Education reform is achingly slow. We all know it will take decades of small, incremental changes before education for all becomes enforced. But there are changes being made. The Ragged School Union was set up this past spring. Schools are opening all across Great Britain, but not only charity schools. There’s a new concept: board schools.”
He had their complete attention. Even the butler listened in. “Fee-paying schools have been around for centuries, but only available to those in the upper class, who can afford them. Board schools would charge landowners and businesses a small fee, to be administered by an elected board of local officials. One of these schools has been set up in Carrbury. I applied for the position of schoolmaster, was interviewed and accepted. I did not go by Wollstonecraft. I applied as Mr. Riordan Black.” Black was his middle name, his mother’s surname. “One of the board members knows my true identity, as I had to prove my education credentials, but he agreed to keep it secret so that it would not draw too much attention to the school. I will be able to gather information, implement my own reforms, and observe if they take root.”
“I am exceedingly proud of you, Son,” Julian said, the words spoken with warmth. A derisive snort came from Aidan, but their father ignored it.
“As am I, Riordan. All the information you gather will only strengthen our cause. How far away is Carrbury?” his grandfather asked.
“About twenty-two miles south of here, less than a day’s ride. I’m to report there in five days’ time. The small township and surrounding area covers a population of about seven hundred, and I’m told I may have upward of thirty-five children of various ages in the classroom.”
“Shrewd of you to conceal the name. Come and walk with me, Riordan, and we will discuss this development further. If there is no other business?” He glanced around the table. “I adjourn the meeting,” the earl stated.
Aidan stood, but Julian shot him a thunderous look. “Sit. We have much to talk about.”
“On that ominous note, I will return to the horses.” Garrett took one last sip of tea, wiped his mouth, and stood. He strode over to Riordan and the earl, clasping Riordan on the shoulder. “Well done. You do this family proud.” Not used to such gracious words from his self-contained uncle, he was genuinely touched. With a nod, Garrett left the room.
* * * *
The late August morning had a slight chill to the air, a hint of the cooler autumn weather to come. Riordan and his grandfather strolled in silence for several minutes. As they entered the garden, the earl returned greetings to the gardeners, answering them by name. The well-manicured shrubs, hedgerows, rosebushes, and wildflowers added to the pleasantness. The slight breeze rustled the birch leaves, acting as nature’s fan.
“For all our progressive views and reform work, we do live a life of privilege. This will be a good opportunity for you, Riordan. To see how others live, how they struggle. Do you plan to stay in the position long?”
“At least one year. I have always wanted to do it. To teach, make a difference in others’ lives. To introduce children to a world of books, learning, and imagination.”
“A noble calling,” the earl murmured.
“I hope one day to start my own progressive school. Employ only the best