Chapter Eight
WHY WAS MR. Chase reluctant to tell her about his mill?
Evangeline considered the possibilities that Sunday morning while she prepared her pupils for church.
Surely he did not think she would disapprove of his innovations as haughty Miss Anstruther might. Perhaps it was modesty that made him hesitate to proclaim his admirable work, though somehow she did not think so.
“Remember,” she warned the children as she gave their appearance a final inspection before they set out for church, “you must be on your very best behavior this morning so you will be a credit to your father and grandmother.”
“I will try.” Matthew sighed. “But it is a long while to sit still with nothing to do.”
Alfie nodded in agreement.
“You could try listening to what the vicar says.” Evangeline decided to take the precaution of not letting the brothers sit together, where they might egg each other on into mischief. Instead, she would place one on either side of her, where she could keep a close eye on them. “Why don’t we make a game of it? After church, I shall ask three questions about the service. There will be a special treat for everyone who can answer one or more correctly.”
“Can I play too?” asked Emma. “Or is the game only for Matthew and Alfie?”
“You are all welcome to play.” Evangeline plumped the bow on Emma’s bonnet and reflected on how much the child had grown since she’d first arrived at Amberwood. “However, I believe some of you may find it less of a challenge than others.”
Emma and Owen exchanged a significant look. They were always attentive and well-behaved during Sunday services, while the older boys chafed at the stillness and solemnity. Rosie stayed quiet enough, but only because she watched the other worshippers to see what they were doing and wearing.
After trying to smooth down a tuft of Alfie’s hair that stubbornly insisted on sticking up, Evangeline said, “Let’s go so we don’t keep your father’s guests waiting.”
They marched off with Emma leading the way, holding Rosie’s hand. The older boys followed, while Evangeline and Owen brought up the rear.
Mr. Chase beamed with pride when his children appeared in the entry hall. “A very handsome family, if I do say so.”
“Indeed they are,” Mrs. Thorpe agreed. “Good morning, my darlings.”
The children greeted their grandmother with decorous affection, no doubt mindful of several guests present. Evangeline made certain to catch the eye of each of her pupils and give them a discreet smile or nod of approval.
“Now that we are all assembled,” Mr. Chase gestured toward the door, “I believe our carriages are waiting.”
Alfie looked about with a puzzled frown. “Not everyone is here, Papa. Were some of them allowed to miss church?”
His father gave an indulgent chuckle. “No one will miss anything. Mr. Brookes rode out some time ago because our vicar asked him to help out with the service. And since the morning is so pleasant, Mrs. Dawson, Miss Webster and Miss Brookes decided they would walk to church.”
Alfie surveyed the remaining guests and seemed satisfied that everyone was accounted for. “That’s all right then. We can go.”
He looked puzzled when the grown-ups laughed.
As the party headed out to the carriages, Jasper Chase cast Evangeline a glance over his son’s head and grinned.
With the vicar and three of the ladies gone ahead, the others were able to crowd into two carriages for the short drive. The three elder members of the party shared one with Emma, Owen and Rosie. Evangeline had the dubious pleasure of squeezing into the other with Mr. Chase, his elder sons, Miss Anstruther and Miss Leveson.
On the drive to church, the ladies vied with one another to engage their host in conversation. When one succeeded, the other would make little secret of her vexation. Evangeline heartily envied the three who had insisted on walking, though she wished Miss Webster could have ridden with their party. Confined to the carriage, she would have been obliged to converse with Mr. Chase. Evangeline could have watched to see what he might be doing wrong. Then she could advise him how to correct his behavior during future lessons.
The carriages passed the trio of walkers just before they reached St. Oswald’s. The children called out to the ladies, who waved and called back to them.
No sooner had they arrived than the church bells began to ring and everyone hurried inside. Evangeline was pleased to see Mr. Chase holding his two youngest children by the hand. She had the two older boys, while Emma accompanied her grandmother.
Miss Anstruther and Miss Leveson appeared most anxious to secure a place as close as possible to Mr. Chase, but Evangeline managed to foil them. She nudged her employer toward the pew in which Miss Webster had taken a seat then she, Alfie and Matthew squeezed in to fill the remaining space.
She could imagine the indignant glares being directed at her, but she ignored them. Instead, she concentrated on Mr. Chase and Miss Webster. To her satisfaction, they began a whispered conversation over the head of Rosie, who snuggled between them. Unfortunately they did not have long to talk, for the service soon commenced.
“Don’t forget our game,” Evangeline whispered to the boys.
Her diversion worked so well, she wished she’d thought of it sooner. Matthew and Alfie concentrated on every word of the service as if their young lives depended on it. Perhaps it also made a difference that one of the clergymen was a guest in their home, who had gone fishing with them and helped them build kites.
When the time came to pray, Evangeline silently beseeched the Lord to further her plans by opening Margaret Webster’s eyes to all of Mr. Chase’s fine qualities.
He was beginning to make a little progress with Miss Webster, Jasper reflected when he woke early Monday morning with an unaccountable sense of urgency. Part of his success was thanks to Evangeline Fairfax, who had contrived to get him seated next to the lady at church. Remembering his courting lessons, he had engaged Miss Webster in a brief conversation about her favorite hymns.
Rosie had done her part, too. Wedged between them, his little daughter had rested her head against Miss Webster’s arm. Frequently during the service, she had exchanged smiles with the lady. By the end, they were holding hands. Afterward, Miss Webster talked to him at some length about Rosie and the other children. However she might feel about him as a suitor, Jasper sensed that Margaret Webster would not object to becoming a stepmother of five.
When he’d turned to find Miss Fairfax watching them, she rewarded his success with a smile of approval that warmed him from head to toe. A wave of gratitude rose within him for the patience she had shown this past year, bearing with his children in spite of his selfish delays. She could have given her notice at any time, leaving him to scramble for a replacement while she went off to set up the school that meant so much to her.
As he headed to the nursery the next morning, Jasper wished he had thought to ask much sooner why the school was so important to her. If he had, he would have discovered he could sympathize with her motives far more than most people. He understood her compelling need to purge the ills of the past and try to set them right for the future.
When he reached the nursery, he found Miss Fairfax waiting for him. Over sips of coffee, she commended his progress with Miss Webster then suggested they get on with his next lesson.
Jasper nodded toward the door. “If you have no objection, I thought we might take my studies outside where there will be no danger of the children overhearing.”
Before she could protest, he added, “I asked Jane to supervise the nursery until we get back. I am certain a walk in the fresh air will do us both good.”
“You seem to have it all arranged.” Miss Fairfax did not sound pleased to have him take charge of the situation without consulting her. “I suppose there is nothing to do but fetch my bonnet.”
By the time she returned, Jane had come to keep watch in the nursery.
“We should not be long,” Miss Fairfax told her. “But you may give the children their breakfast once they are all awake.”
She and Jasper scarcely exchanged a word as they made their way outdoors. He wondered how many of the servants noticed their passing while quietly going about their early-morning duties. He hoped this whim of his would not expose Miss Fairfax to gossip below stairs.
Such thoughts faded from his mind when they emerged into the green, dew-dappled countryside at sunrise. Jasper inhaled a refreshing breath of morning air then beckoned Miss Fairfax toward the path that led down to the brook. He did not want to linger too near the house where their voices might waken sleeping guests or someone might look out a window and see them together.
The path was narrower than he’d realized. Two adults could walk on it side by side, but at this hour they were obliged to keep close together, in order to avoid getting skirts and boots drenched with dew.
“Are you going to tell me about your mill?” Miss Fairfax asked. “Or did you just bring me out here to enjoy the morning air?”
Jasper risked a glance at the governess only to find her gaze fixed on the path ahead. “I was trying to decide how to begin.”
“I know your mill is more than a commercial enterprise.” Her tone sounded almost accusing. “You provide housing and food for your workers?”
“I sell them food.” Jasper was careful to make the distinction. “They may buy from me or from the shops if they prefer because I pay them in cash, not those miserable tokens. Most of them buy the food I make available because the quality is better and the price cheaper than they can find elsewhere.”
“Tokens?” Evangeline Fairfax sounded mystified. “Are you saying some mills do not pay their workers in shillings and pence?”
Jasper gave a sharp nod. “Not some—most. Instead, they pay with tokens that have no value outside the company truck shop. The food and goods they sell there are poor quality and overpriced so the owners can make more money off their workers.”
Contemplating such greed, at the expense of those who worked so hard for so little, ignited a blaze of righteous anger inside Jasper. “One thing I refuse to sell is spirits. I don’t stop my workers from buying it elsewhere if they must, but I am proud to say few of them do. The life they have at New Hope Mills is agreeable enough that they are not inclined to seek escape in a gin jar.”
“I should think not.” Miss Fairfax gave an indignant sniff. “Your workers must feel blessed to have an employer who cares about their welfare as much as you do. How did you come to own New Hope Mills? You said you were an overseer for Mr. Thorpe when you first met your wife.”
“That’s right.” The keen interest in her voice intensified Jasper’s natural inclination to talk about the work that was so important to him. “I’d worked my way up to overseer. Mr. Thorpe was a good employer. He ran his mill better than most and he rewarded hard work and initiative. After I married his daughter, I persuaded him to make some changes in the way we did business. He died a few years later and I took over the mill. That was when I built housing for our workers and expanded my efforts to encourage temperance among them. In the meantime, I did everything in my power to keep the operation profitable so other owners would see it is possible to make money without treating our workers unfairly.”
“Well done,” said Miss Fairfax. “Very well done, indeed.”
When Jasper glanced over, he caught her gazing at him with shining eyes. He was so accustomed to being ridiculed for his radical ideas that her obvious admiration made him feel a foot taller. Yet it troubled him to think that what he was doing should be considered extraordinary.
“It is no more than any employer should do if he has a conscience. No one seeing the working conditions in most Manchester mills can possibly believe that is how life is meant to be.”
“I wish you had told me all this long ago.” The governess’s footsteps slowed. “I would not have been so critical of the time you spent away from home if I had known it was for a higher purpose than simply making your fortune.”
It eased his conscience, knowing she grasped the importance of what he was trying to do and understood the sacrifices he was obliged to make in his family life. “I assumed you must have been informed already by my wife or her mother. You and I have never had much time to talk about anything but the children.”
“That is true.”
They walked on in silence for a few moments then Miss Fairfax spoke again. “What made you care so much about bettering the lives of your workers?”
There was the question he’d known she would ask. The question he had not wanted his children to hear him answer. If Evangeline Fairfax had not confided in him about her wretched experiences at the Pendergast School, Jasper was not certain he could have answered her now. But she had confided in him and he owed it to her to return the favor.
“My family all worked in a cotton mill when I was a boy. It was a hard life but it was all we knew. We were fortunate not to have more mouths to feed and that my father wasn’t a drunkard. He wanted a better life for me, so he sent me to a Sabbath school run by Parson Ward.”
By now they had reached the brook. The gentle babble of the water put Jasper more at ease, allowing him to speak about the worst day of his life. “When I was the age of our Emma, there was a fire at the mill. With all the cotton fluff floating about, the air itself seemed to burst into flames. Ma ran to find my sister Rose and Pa grabbed me. It was bedlam—everyone trampling each other in a blind panic to get out. The doors were soon jammed with bodies. Pa picked me up and threw me over the heads of the crowd. I knew if I lost my footing I’d be run down and crushed. Somehow, I managed to make it out alive...”
His voice trailed off, his throat as tightly choked as the doors of that burning mill. Instead of fresh country air, he smelled a sulfurous inferno. His eyes stung and began to water as if from the thick smoke and shimmering waves of heat consuming everything in their path.
“Your parents?” Evangeline Fairfax murmured as her footsteps slowed. “Your sister?”
Jasper could only shake his head and fight to maintain his composure.
Miss Fairfax helped by continuing to talk. “Now I see why you did not want your children to overhear us. I am sorry to have brought it all back to you. I should not have pried into your past.”
“No!” The denial burst out of Jasper. “You deserve to know after what you told me about yours. I cannot pretend I enjoyed reliving those memories, but it is a relief in a way—like opening an engine valve to reduce the pressure building up inside it.”
“I shall have to take your word for that.” Miss Fairfax attempted to lighten the mood, for which Jasper was grateful. “I am woefully ignorant about anything to do with machinery. But I understand what you mean about a sense of relief. I have felt it, too, since I spoke to you. Perhaps putting the very worst things into words gives us a little power over them. It reminds us that we have survived and been strengthened in the process.”
“Perhaps.” Her explanation sounded as reasonable as anything.
By unspoken agreement they turned and headed back to the house. The children were likely awake and curious about the absence of their governess and their father.
“What became of you after the fire?” The concern in Miss Fairfax’s voice was unmistakable. She knew what could befall an orphan child. No doubt she also realized that her experience, as difficult as it had been, was not the worst that could happen. Did she picture Matthew or Alfie in that situation?
Jasper wanted to put her mind at rest. “I was fortunate. Parson Ward took me in temporarily. When he discovered I had no other family, he adopted me and educated me with Norton Brookes and several other boys our age. Some might say the deaths of my parents brought me a better life and a brighter future than they could have provided me if they’d lived. But I would give anything to have been able to prevent that fire.”
“Of course you would.” Evangeline Fairfax seemed to understand in a way few others could.
Jasper wished he had talked all this over with her long ago. “When I finished my schooling, I went to work for Mr. Thorpe. I joined the philosophical and literary society and a committee on the board of health. That is where I met Robert Owen and others who were eager to promote improvements in safety and working conditions in the cotton industry. I felt I owed it to my family to do my best to change things.”
He marked the way Miss Fairfax nodded. It conveyed more than simple agreement. It assured him of her sympathy with his ideals. Not since his friend Robert Owen departed for Scotland had Jasper felt such kinship with another person regarding this important aspect of his life.
“You should tell your children,” Evangeline Fairfax suggested. “Not about the fire, of course, but about New Hope Mills—why you operate it the way you do and why it is such important work.”
With anyone else Jasper would have disagreed strenuously. But with Evangeline Fairfax, he could not, for he knew she believed in his work and loved his children.
“Why do you say that?” he asked. “You and I learned at too young an age what a harsh place the world can be. I want to protect my children from that knowledge for as long as I can. That is the other goal I have worked hard to accomplish.”
“I know.” She sounded apologetic yet determined to persuade him. “It is not only the noise and crowding and smoke of Manchester you want to shield them from. It is the way so many people are obliged to live. But your children must learn someday. If they understand what you are trying to do and why, they may not mind so much that you must spend so much time away from home.”
Jasper could not deny the truth in what Miss Fairfax had said and it troubled him. “Do my children think I do not care for them, that I want to be away from them so often?”
Their governess knew his children better than anyone. She had shown herself willing to speak her mind, especially where their welfare was concerned. Jasper trusted she would tell him the truth no matter how hard it might be for him to hear.
“They know you love them.” Miss Fairfax soothed one of his greatest fears. “No one who sees you with them can doubt that. But there are times when I fear they blame themselves or each other for your long absences. They wonder if they were better behaved or more entertaining company you might be inclined to spend more time at home.”
Though her words were offered in a tone of gentle compassion, they pierced Jasper’s heart to a dangerous depth. This was worse than he had feared. He would rather his children think him a bad father, incapable of loving them as they deserved. He could not bear to have them doubt or blame themselves for his absences.
“It never occurred to me they might feel that way.” His shoulders slumped. “You are right, Miss Fairfax. I must speak to the children at once and try to make them understand. Will you help me?”
“Me?” Her step lurched slightly, as if she had caught her foot on a bit of uneven ground. “What can I do?”
Jasper reached out to steady her, but she avoided his hand in her independent way. She might be willing to assist him, but it was clear she had difficulty accepting help from others. Could that be a consequence of her school years, when she’d been called upon to be a source of strength and leadership for her friends?
“I expect you will think of something,” he replied. “You know my children so well. If we find a way to explain the importance of my work, perhaps it will help them understand why you feel obliged to leave them when the time comes.”
He had thought she would grasp his reasoning and approve the idea. He did not expect Miss Fairfax to flinch and let out a half-stifled gasp, as if he had struck her.
Jasper Chase was not a cruel man—quite the opposite, in fact. Even when Evangeline had privately questioned his commitment to fatherhood, she had never doubted his basic good nature.
Now, as they returned to the house from their early-morning walk, she knew he did not mean to distress her. But when he spoke of her leaving and how it might affect the children, his words seemed to knock the air out of her.
She tried to tell herself he was wrong. Of course his children would be sorry to see her go, but they would not feel responsible for her decision to leave. Would they?
“Are you quite well, Miss Fairfax?” This time, when Mr. Chase put his hand out to steady her, Evangeline was too preoccupied with thoughts of the children to avoid it. “That is the second time you have lost your footing. Perhaps I should not have dragged you out for a walk before breakfast. I hope you will pardon my thoughtlessness.”
“Nonsense.” She shook her head and tried to ignore the agreeable sensation of his hand on her arm. “In the past, I have done a great deal of work first thing in the morning and never been the worse for it. I am certain you must have, too.”
She pictured him laboring on the floor of a cotton mill at the age when she had been doing chores in the damp, chilly rooms of the Pendergast School. She’d never suspected the two of them might have so much in common. For his sake, she wished they did not.
“That is true enough,” he replied in a rueful murmur. “What made you falter, then, if not hunger?”
Part of her wanted to make up some other excuse—anything but the truth, which Jasper Chase might use to persuade her to stay at Amberwood. Having exchanged such painful confidences with him recently made it difficult to be less than candid now. “If you must know, it was what you said about telling the children I will be leaving. I never considered that they might blame themselves. It came as something of a shock but I have recovered. I am capable of walking the rest of the way without assistance.”
“Of course.” Mr. Chase released her arm one finger at a time, as if doing so required some effort.
Once his hand broke contact with her arm, he let it fall to his side and started back toward the house. Hurrying to catch up, Evangeline braced for him to take advantage of her reluctant confession. To her surprise, he did not.
“We needn’t mention your plans until the time draws closer. But I would like to talk to the children about my situation as soon as possible. Once we finish breakfast, we should speak to them together. I will explain about my work at New Hope Mills as best I can. Stop me whenever you think necessary to help them better understand. Can you do that for me?”
Evangeline nodded. “I am certain Matthew will interrupt you with plenty of questions, but I will do my part.”
“Thank you.” Jasper Chase caught her eye, which she had been trying to avoid. “I know I can rely on you.”
There was no more treasured compliment he could pay her. Evangeline looked away quickly but could not conceal her satisfaction.
As they approached the house, about to slip in the side entrance nearest the nursery, they met Mr. Brookes on his way out, accompanied by Verity Dawson. Both couples gave a start then pretended they had not.
“More early birds out enjoying the morning air—excellent!” The vicar’s hearty tone rang hollow.
“Indeed it is,” replied Mr. Chase as if there was nothing unusual about them meeting like this. “If you are heading toward the river, keep to the path for the grass is very wet just now.”
“Perhaps we should confine our stroll to the lane instead.” The vicar’s forced smile looked anything but happy. “If that is agreeable to you, Mrs. Dawson?”
“Perfectly.” The lady’s reply was barely audible. Her shifting glance made her look as guilty as if she and Mr. Brookes had been caught committing highway robbery.
“Enjoy your walk.” Mr. Chase ushered Evangeline inside. Clearly he was as eager as his friend to end their awkward meeting. “I shall see you at breakfast.”
As the other two hurried away, Evangeline doubted any of them would mention their early-morning encounter over breakfast. She and Mr. Chase spoke no more on their way to the nursery. But when they passed a looking glass in the hallway, she was dismayed to glimpse a furtive look on her face, identical to Verity Dawson’s.
She had no reason to be ashamed, her conscience protested. She was only discussing her pupils with their father. No doubt Mrs. Dawson and Mr. Brookes had an equally innocent reason for taking an early stroll together. Yet their reaction suggested they might have something to hide.
Did the vicar and Verity Dawson suspect the same of her and Mr. Chase?