“Unfortunately, the scheme with the convicts is just one of many problems,” Mr. Bartlet continued. “I heard through a friend that Lord Frank wishes to return the West Indies plantations to using slave labor.”
“Pardon?!” Lottie’s voice rose an octave. “My father spent a small fortune to free all his slaves nearly thirty years ago! It was one of the first things he did when he assumed the title. He was an ardent abolitionist.”
“I know, my lady.” Mr. Bartlet agreed. “Your father insisted on paying his laborers a fair wage. But the free men who now work on the plantations definitely cut deep into profits. Your father considered it a welcome compromise. Lord Frank, however, sees it as an opportunity.”
Lottie pressed a hand to her abdomen, a sure sign of her distress.
“I cannot countenance it,” Lottie almost whispered. “I cannot believe that Lord Frank would betray my father’s memory so.”
Mr. Bartlet shrugged. “I am only reporting what I have heard, my lady. You would be well to confirm this through your own sources. All I can say is this—given the abuses that have been undertaken here at Frome Abbey, I would look long and hard at every other aspect of the marquisate. My gut tells me that if you do, you may find a Pandora’s box of misdeeds.”
19
Alex and Lottie took their leave from the Bartlet family a short while later.
Alex recommended some exercises to Mr. Bartlet that would improve the man’s mobility. But beyond that, there was little more Alex could do to help.
The part of him that loved medicine, that could not look on suffering withoutacting, struggled to accept this.
Well, you could assume the title,a wee voice whispered.You could become Lord Lockheade and make these peopleyourpeople. Then there would be much you could do to help.
He steeled himself. Though true, that wouldn’t solve all problems. The Bartlets were simply one of tens of thousands of families in similar circumstances in Britain. Alex had realized long ago that he could not save everyone.
But . . . surely you can do something here,that voice insisted.
So as Mr. Bartlet hobbled toward the door using a poorly whittled branch as a crutch, Alex’s heart gave a painful lurch.
“Here,” Alex said, extending one of his well-formed crutches toward the man. “I’m done with this for now, and I’d like someone else tae get good use of it.”
It was a bold-faced lie, but he had todosomething.
“I can’t accept your crutch, Doctor,” Mr. Bartlet hesitated. But Alex could see how the man’s eyes darted to it.
“I insist. Ye have given us valuable information today. And ye need something tae help ye get back on your feet properly. Someone has tae care for your weans.” Alex looked at the dirty-faced children ranging behind the man. “If not for yourself, then take it for your bairns’ sake.”
Mr. Bartlet hesitated for a second more and then nodded, taking the crutch and thanking Alex profusely.
A few minutes later, Alex and Lottie were walking back up the lane which was every whit as long and rutted and difficult to navigate as it had been before. It was even more so with only one crutch.
Alex welcomed the challenge. He did not regret his actions.
“That was very kind of you,” Lottie murmured once they were out of sight of the house.
“I hate it,” he said after a moment, swinging forward one slow hop at a time. “I hate that there is so much suffering in this world. I hate that there are good people who cannot feed their bairns. I hate that there are still those who would take advantage of men such as Bartlet.”
“But you did good in that house,” Lottie said.
“Something is better than nothing. What of yourself? That was shocking, what was said about Lord Frank.”
They walked in silence for a moment. Or rather, Alex hopped along beside Lottie.
“I’m trying to reconcile it,” Lottie said. “The Lord Frank I know is a bit bombastic, even arrogant at times, but hardly cruel. He is not unkind to my sister, and he dotes on his children. You should have seen his grief over Anne’s death . . .”
“But a man can be kind to his own and still ruthless in business. I’ve seen it enough. One set of behaviors does not inoculate one against the other, more’s the pity.”
“I guess the real question is what willyoudo with this information?” she asked.
Alex hobbled along, lurching forward one slow step at a time.
