“We discussed that the poor are cared for through parish charities.”
“A chant you keep repeating.” Madeline shook her head. “You decided and I disagreed. The parish needs your support and persuasion to help all people who ask for their help, not only those who belong to the parish. The winter will be harder for those who must pay for not only food but wood to keep their homes warm. You have rooms filled to the ceiling with food. I propose we load up wagons and take the food to the parish. They can distribute what is donated to those in need.”
“You are not giving up.”
“That goes against my nature.”
“So I am learning.” He sat back in his chair. “I feel as though you are my conscience. But we do not have an endless supply of food. The food in our storage rooms goes to feeding not only my family but our servants and their families through the long winter months. What you propose will deplete our stores and put many in jeopardy.”
“You raise a good point.”
He steepled his hands. “Finally, a compliment. I am not as hard and unfeeling as you make me out to be. We have limited resources. I could spare some of our food to do as you say, but it will not go far.”
She slid into the chair that faced his desk. “I have an idea. Your mother talked about a Christmas Eve Ball for close family and friends. What if the ball were expanded to invite a wider guest list?”
“More guests means more food. I do not see how this solves your problem. A ball of the magnitude of which you speak will deplete our supplies. That means we will have less to give.”
She scooted forward in her chair and folded her hands on his desk. “We would send out word about this elaborate ball on Christmas Eve. In order to attend the ball, people will have to buy tickets. We will say that the money earned will go to buy food for the poor in the village. This is Christmas, a time of giving and charity.”
“It might work. I know that my mother would approve of the idea. Helping the poor in our village has been a longstanding goal of hers. She and my father had numerous arguments regarding the topic. There were times when she would defy him and take food into the village on her own. When she returned, he retaliated by cutting her clothing allowance.”
“Let me guess—she told him to go to blazes,” Madeline said with a smile.
The duke chuckled, coming from around the desk. “Yes, and she went a step further. They were invited to a ball at one of the neighboring estates and she wore an old, faded gown that was out of season. My father was furious and told her that her choice of gown would diminish her in the view of her friends. My mother was not known for her silence. She told everyone within earshot that she was married to a man who spent more on his hunting dogs than on his wife. His ploy to discredit my mother failed spectacularly. He was the one shunned that night, not her. That was the last time he cut her clothing allowance.”
“I like your mother.” Madeline stood. “Do I have your permission to inform the servants that they can load a wagon full of food? I will be happy to accompany the wagons to the parish and help with the distribution.”
“If I said no, I have a feeling you would do it anyway. You are very much like my mother in that regard.”
He had moved to stand close to her, and suddenly she had trouble breathing. “There now,” she managed, “we are getting to know each other.”
“Why don’t we go together? My father believed people should help themselves. That the reason they are poor is that they are lazy.”
“Is that what you believe?”
“Yes, and you will discover that I am right. The village is well cared for and the people content.”
“One wagon or two?”
“I beg your pardon?” The duke said.
“Can I ask the servants to help me load one wagon full of food from your storage rooms, or two?”
“I was thinking more on the line of baskets. My father approved my mother bringing baskets to select families at this time of year.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You have that look on your face.”
She arched an eyebrow.
“The one that says you will not give up until you have your way. Be content. I conceded. You have permission to load one wagon.”
“Zounds!” she screamed. “Thank you,” she said and rushed to give him a hug. His arms threaded around her. She pushed back. “I am so sorry.” She stepped out of his embrace. “I was just…”
“Pleased that you had won the fight?” he offered.
“I should leave,” she said, backing toward the door. “There is much to do.” She fumbled with the door. “Why won’t this open?”
“Let me help.” Robert leaned over her, then opened the door and stepped aside.
“Thank you again. Tomorrow morning, then? I will have the wagons outside the kitchen?”
