Mr. and Mrs. Turner ushered their children into the bedchamber, and the door creaked closed behind them.
“How was he injured?” I asked quietly.
Damon glanced around the room. Only Mrs. Turner remained, and she sat across the room in Betsy’s rocking chair, looking near to falling asleep. Still, Damon lowered his voice. “War.”
I’d seen many war injuries in London, so it wasn’t surprising, but it still made me sad. “And when did Mr. Turner become your father’s tenant?”
“Before he enlisted. His father, the late Mr. Turner, was our original tenant. Before he passed, it was agreed that the young Mr. Turner would take over the land lease. When he returned from the war injured, Father did not think him equal to the task of working the land and desired to release him from the lease, but Mr. Turner was intent on staying.”
“Naturally. This is his home, his livelihood.”
“Exactly so.” Damon nodded. “Mr. Turner has worked hard, and he has done a fine job, but he will never be able to care for the land like he did before being injured. And with the weather this year, he’s fallen increasingly behind on his payments. Father thinks they need to go, but I believe our contract can still be mutually beneficial.”
I stared up at Damon in admiration. This was a side of him I hadn’t seen before, a side he didn’t reveal often. “What you’re doing here is good.”
“Perhaps, but it is not enough. What our tenants need is for my father to give them more help.”
I couldn’t disagree. “Will he?”
Damon shook his head. “No. My father sees the Turners’ situation not as a failing on his own part but rather theirs. He believes if they had been good stewards of all he has given them, then they would not now be in this position.”
“But Mr. Turner’s injury was not his fault, and neither is the failed harvest.”
“I agree with you,” Damon said. “But my father argues that if they had only prepared more in years previous, then they would be able to now save themselves.”
“That is madness.” Even I could see that the Turner family only lived from one harvest to another. On a parcel of land this size, there would be no surplus to save. “Your father must be made to see reason.”
“I have tried. Even going so far as to draw up and present plans to him.”
“What sort of plans?”
He shifted in his chair. “You will think me foolish.”
“I promise I will not.”
Damon rolled the hem of his shirt between his forefinger and thumb. “I have been studying agriculture and talking with other landowners about the most beneficial farming techniques, and with some wise investments, better education, and up-to-date practices, I believe we can give the Turners, and our other tenants, the means to succeed.” Damon glanced at me as if gauging my reaction.
“You must do it then.”
“It is a great deal more complicated than that.”
“Not so. You have the means and the desire; you lack nothing to bring about change.”
“Only the authority.”
“But one day you will have it. And think of all the good you will be able to do.”
“As soon as I inherit, I fear I will become exactly like my father and his father and his father’s father. I have been taught my whole life that the only way I can ensure my family’s survival is by doing what has always been done.”
“You will not be like your father or any of the previous earls of Winfield, and you won’t make anyone suffer.”
“How can you be so sure?” he asked earnestly.
“Because you got out of the curricle today and because you have been helping your tenants for a long time previous.”
“You have too much faith in me.” He shook his head.
“How can I not?” I said, and I suddenly realized how much I believed those words. At every turn this summer, Damon had been my savior. “Must I remind you of how you asked me to dance at Rumfords’ ball even though it was not in your interest to do so?”
