‘Sounds lovely,’ Charlotte said between mouthfuls as she read through Lucy’s last writing exercise and corrected the spelling mistakes. She was a fast learner, and Charlotte was pleased with her progress.
‘I hope Lord Stanley allows me to stay here permanently. It is so much better than the dowager house,’ Lucy continued.
‘But what about Mrs Wilberforce? She is quite attached to you,’ Charlotte remarked.
‘Oh, I am sure Mrs Wilberforce will wish to remain here too. After all, it is far more comfortable than the draughty, damp dowager house. I am sure her brother will not mind.’
‘I wondered why Mrs Wilberforce lives on her brother’s estate at all, instead of at her husband’s home?’ Sarah asked.
‘Oh, that is because Mr Wilberforce does not have two farthings to rub together. He spent his entire family fortune on his work.’
‘What work?’ Charlotte asked, intrigued.
Lucy shifted the coal bucket in her hands.
‘His family fortune was built on the slave trade...’
Charlotte looked up sharply.
‘...and when he travelled and witnessed the atrocities committed by slave masters and traders, he was appalled.’
‘How awful,’ Charlotte murmured.
‘He returned to England a changed man, and since then has worked tirelessly to abolish slavery.’
Lucy lowered her voice slightly.
‘He made quite the impression on the late Baron—so much so that he offered him his home when he had nowhere else to go.’
‘I see,’ Charlotte replied, with newfound respect for Mr Wilberforce—and the late Baron. Perhaps he was not an Odd Fellow after all.
‘He spent a great deal of time with the late Baron’s daughter—now his wife, Mrs Wilberforce, of course. They fell in love here, and the late Baron was glad to fund his work and allow them to remain.’
Sarah clasped her hands together. ‘How romantic.’
‘Isn’t it just,’ Lucy said sweetly.
‘But who funds him now?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Why, Lord Stanley does, of course,’ she replied, adding more coal to the fire.
Sarah and Charlotte exchanged glances.
Of course—this must be the link between Mr Wilberforce and Lord Stanley: the abolition campaign. The Odd Fellows wanted to stop him from succeeding. But why? How did it threaten their operation?
Lucy straightened, adjusting her apron. ‘Anyway, let me know if you need anything else. I will try to sneak in extra treats from the cook—the biscuits are delicious.’
Sarah and Charlotte were grateful for the extra care, and thrilled to have Lucy with them.
After a hearty breakfast, Charlotte dressed hastily and entered the schoolroom, where Sarah helped Tom prepare for the day, though he still looked weary.
‘Good morning, Master Tom,’ she greeted, stretching the remaining stiffness from her limbs. ‘How are you today?’
No response.
He sat cross-legged on the carpet, rolling marbles with solemn concentration.
‘Perhaps,’ she said lightly, ‘you might do me a favour. I keep getting lost in this great big mansion. Would you mind showing me around so I can find my way?’
