“You make it seem serious!”
Lizzy, Mary, and Georgiana exchanged glances that did seem serious. But it had been a serious day.
Gingerly, I cast my mind back to the fears of the salon.
The injured maid had caused my collapse. The way she fell in a tumble of skirts, still as death. That image alone made me seek the defense of perfection. I pressed a gloved fingertip against the Rococo swirls of a chair and traced a soothing spiral of carved flower petals.
So, the cause was no surprise. But the scarlet potency surrounding me had been different. Even in memory, it vibrated and beckoned. As if I could grasp it and—
“Emma?” Lizzy said quizzically.
Blankly, I looked into her staring eyes. I tried to pull an echo of her question from my ears, but it was lost.
“Chathford House is beautiful,” I said. Compliments were safe. “And a large house, for London.”
“Is it?” Georgiana asked in a surprised tone. Her slender neck craned as she looked about, searching for an overlooked wing.
“Verylarge,” Mary said tightly, frowning at the raised gilt scrolls of the chair I was stroking.
“Oh.” A blush spread on Georgiana’s cheeks. “You think it excessive. I am sorry.”
“No! I did not… that is…” Mary bit her lip. The two women stared at each other. They seemed very distraught for such a modest disagreement.
“It is larger than I expected,” Lizzy said matter-of-factly. “But the space will go to good use. We need rooms for the school.”
“What a wonderful idea!” exclaimed Georgiana. She beamed a relieved smile at her friend.
“You have a school?” I asked Lizzy.
“My husband is a patron of education for those who cannot afford other teaching. I have added my own project, instruction for practical trades. There will be tremendous opportunities as mechanization grows. But practical trades require space, and the London school is overfull.”
“How wonderful to improve a life so profoundly,” I said. “Perhaps I could help a school in Surrey.”
Mary gave an annoyed snort. Lizzy shot her a quelling look.
“What are practical trades?” Harriet asked.
“Some are apprenticed trades,” Lizzy said. “Smithing. Coopering. But teaching those requires permission from the guilds. They are jealous of their exclusivity. Still, a visit from a lady disconcerts them enough that I make headway.”
“Trades for boys.” Harriet seemed disappointed.
“Not just boys. I am only unsure what is most helpful for the girls. Eventually, mechanization will reduce the need for brute strength, but girls without families need livelihoods now. I should hate to fall back on sewing. The wages are working poverty. Harness making is more promising. It is like sewing, just with leather, punches, and heavy needles. The wages are far higher.”
“The wages are higher because the wages are paid to men,” Mary said in a biting tone.
“I would like harness making!” Harriet exclaimed. “I adore horses. MissWoodhouse’s groom always complains that he cannot find properly made harnesses.”
I blinked at that. He had never said a word to me.
Lizzy smiled. “Well, if you wish to learn, I have a harness maker who will teach ladies. But you should not make harnesses.” Harriet looked hurt, so Lizzy explained, “Teaching would be more valuable.”
“Teaching?” Harriet said in astonishment.
“Certainly. If you were willing to teach a practical trade, I would hire you in a moment. Few women are willing to instruct anything but a governess’s subjects.”
Harriet’s lips opened in stunned amazement.
“It is an amusing idea,” I interposed, disliking her reaction. “But no lady would teach, and Harriet is a lady.”
