Chapter Twenty One #2
Taking a deep breath, Martin gestured to the gaping landscape around them where once had stood the great house.
“Just as we are going to rebuild a Hall that serves everyone, not only the baron’s family, so will we change our decision-making processes to include everyone’s voice.
Instead of hiring a new steward to do my bidding, we are establishing a stewardship council to oversee the care and funds of Northfield.
There will be one representative for every fifty adults who have lived at Northfield for at least one year, as well as a representative of the Preston family, and the representatives will be elected every five years.
We will hold our first elections by secret ballot on the summer solstice, and I invite every eligible adult—man and woman—to consider whether they should like to run for this solemn duty. ”
As these words rang out, Martin felt a great calm settle in his bones. Here he was, holding Martha’s hand, bathed in spring sunshine, and for the first time in his life, caring for two hundred people did not weigh on him like a hundred-pound stone.
“In fact, we are pleased to announce that for the council’s first term, the family has elected Mrs. Caroline Chow as our representative,” Martha said, beaming like a proud mother.
Caroline stood to accept the round of applause.
“Today is a day of celebration. Lady Preston and I wanted you to know that just as our marriage is the beginning of something new for us, it is also the beginning of something new for Northfield—something that I hope you will join me in considering an improvement for everyone. Now, please, raise your cups once more to toast my wonderful bride, family, and this singular community!”
This earned him the heartiest cheers yet. Fueled by the crowd’s enthusiasm—and his own relief—Martin could no longer keep his impulses in check. Right there on the dais, he pulled Martha into his arms and claimed a great and wonderful kiss.
His wife, his partner, his inspiration. Soon, they would head to London for the parliamentary season, which meant a new set of challenges and moral quandaries as they continued his fight against imperial injustices.
Too, they would guide the stewardship council, especially in its first few years.
And there would be their own relationship to navigate amidst decisions about the new Hall and negotiations about which balls to attend and disagreements over things small and large.
He looked forward to all of it. He wanted to miss none of it. He had Martha, he had his children, he had a new Northfield and all the old problems that Britain still hadn’t conquered.
In the meantime, he would embarrass her with the strength of his affection.
To a chorus of whoops, Martha pushed away, joking, “When does our honeymoon begin?”
He laughed because he wouldn’t mind that himself. But neither did he want to leave this beautiful afternoon, surrounded by everyone he held dear. Clinging to Martha, he returned to their table.
“I think it’s a stunning idea, Papa,” Ellen said from the next bench. “I’m glad you are brave enough to give it a try.”
He had discussed it with his children when they had all arrived the previous week, and they had stood as witnesses to his new will, which directed all his money except Lolly’s dowry to be established in a Northfield trust.
Her husband Max grinned. “If it’s a success, we might steal it in a few years for Hope Hall.”
“Might?” Ellen raised a brow at her husband, and Martin could see a lively debate sparking between them.
“The London papers will be calling you a seditionist by tomorrow morning,” said Benjamin. “Which only means it is the obviously right thing to do.”
Lydia said wistfully, “I think the idea would take on like wildfire in Ireland. All anyone wants is a say in how things are done.”
“Then we should try it ourselves,” he agreed, wrapping an arm around her and earning an adoring look from his wife.
“Will you ever run for representative, Sophia?” asked Nate. “I might throw you a vote, if you convince me of your vision.”
“If only the term didn’t last five years.” She pretended a regretful sigh. “Anyhow, John and I travel far too much to stick around for council meetings on inoculating cows.”
“Would you rather have ill cows?” Nate prodded.
John came to Sophia’s defense: “Someone must keep the family in touch with the parts of society that haven’t yet adopted radical viewpoints. Consider us your ambassadors.”
“Ah, John, you are certainly the most diplomatic of us all,” Sophia said, glowing.
“Does that make Nate and me the armed forces?” asked Amy. “Are we to do battle on the southern front to keep the Home Office from sending in the militia to quell this democratic uprising?”
“I do still have my uniform,” said Nate, grinning.
Caroline shook her head. “None of you need do anything except reply to my letters in a prompt and considerate manner.”
Eddie, who was cradling baby Thomas, touched his head to Caroline’s. “A little love can go a long way, after all.”
Of all the joys Martin could count that day, having his children together, their approval and goodwill flowing as easily as the music from Hamlyn’s violin, felt the most precious of all. He reached across the table. “Don’t you think it’s good form to let the bride and groom hold the baby?”
Baby Thomas sneezed, as if to voice his agreement. Eddie laughed and stood to transfer the baby to Martin’s arms. “You must be the expert of these Preston sneezes, sir.”
“Those he comes by honestly from his grandmother Lolly,” Martin corrected, tucking the baby in the crook of his elbow.
Martha huddled close, leaning in to let Thomas wrap his strong hand around her finger. “You have quite the future ahead of you,” she murmured to him. “You spring from so much love, and so many wonderful role models, starting with your grandfather, who is a great and kind man.”
“And that’s just the beginning of how I would describe Mr. Chow,” joked Nate.
Martin smiled in agreement. “What a wonderful future Thomas has. He can learn from two cultures with great histories. He will see the world so differently than I ever did. And he can benefit from all the education we insist on giving him without the burden of knowing he must do anything in particular—except live. Live, and live well, my dear baby Thomas.”
“And always do the right thing,” added Martha. “But that will come naturally…”
In unison—almost as if they had planned it—Caroline and Eddie and Nate and Amy and Sophia and John all joined her to finish the sentence:
“Because you’re a Preston.”
And Martin resisted the urge to complicate the sentiment.