Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Lucien did not really know why he was at Fielding House that night, but he found himself pushing open the main door, glancing around at the bare floorboards.
He hummed under his breath, displeased. The new flooring he had ordered to be laid had still not arrived, and he was not happy. The longer the renovations went on, the longer he and Elinor risked being found out.
He told himself the urgency was practical. Nothing more.
Lucien shook off his thoughts as he walked up the staircase, patting the new railing.
It shined beneath the light fixture in the ceiling that Lucien had ordered to be replaced, and he was content knowing that nobody would hurt themselves on the stairs.
He did not know why that had bothered him so much, but the thought of rushed children, forced to work, hurrying down a staircase that was not stable, sent a shudder through him.
He went on, wandering through Fielding House, noting that painting had begun, and a new length of wallpaper had been put up along the way to the bedrooms and school room. Again, he nodded, pleased with what was changing.
Down the hallway, he heard the familiar clamor of voices he had begun growing accustomed to as he oversaw the work being done on the workhouse. But now, he had nothing to oversee, and he knew he was there purely for his own indulgence.
Moving toward the school room on silent feet, Lucien finally heard her voice, and something loosened in his chest. Peculiarly, he realized that he had been hoping that, finally, Elinor would be present.
As he slid up to the school room door, he saw the usual children. Toby, Billy, Angelica, all sat at the front, their faces turned up towards their tutor in rapt attention, so Lucien let his own focus stray to that tutor, too.
And there she was, her blonde hair free from any societal binds, falling freely over her shoulders as she gestured, speaking.
Through the closed door, he could not hear exactly everything she said, but he could clearly see the passion on her face.
It shined through her smile, lit up the blue of her eyes, and he could see how she thoroughly loved what she did in Fielding House.
However she had come to get this role, she had taken it on, not out of obligation, but out of love.
True, sheer love.
It almost hurt to look at.
He leaned in closer, daring to nudge the door open just an inch, not enough to disturb the children nor Elinor herself, but enough to hear what was going on while he remained inconspicuous.
“Now, Billy, do you remember what constellation I taught you the other week?”
“No, Lady Elinor,” he answered honestly. “I do not care for stars. Angelica does, though.”
At that, Elinor gave a chuckle. “The stars are magical, Billy. They can tell you a lot.”
“Yes, but I do not see them a lot, so how will I know what they are telling me?”
At that, Lucien saw a pang of pain flash over Elinor’s face as if she realized her privilege of seeing something as simple as stars when these children had not because of working late hours or sleeping off a long working day.
I will banish that, he thought. I will get rid of any restrictions these children face. They should experience joy instead of only hard, awful labor.
“Then, how about I take you all out one night to see the stars?” Elinor mused. “You all deserve to see a pretty, starry night at least once, and it would be an honor to orchestrate that.”
“What does orchestrate mean?” Toby piped up.
“It means I will make it happen,” Elinor swore, giving him a soft smile.
Suddenly, Lucien was gripped with a thought.
I want to be part of such an experience. I do not want her to have to do it alone. She already risks so much by coming here to tutor the children.
So, he would discuss it with her at another time. For now, though, Lucien leaned just outside of the doorframe, watching her.
“Now, Billy, the constellation was Orion’s Belt. It is one of the most notable constellations, and its stars shine very brightly.”
“Giants?” Billy echoed, his head jerking up in excitement. “I want to be a giant!”
“Not quite,” Elinor laughed gently. “They are brighter than most stars, and some are thought to be much larger than the sun. They burn very fiercely, though we cannot approach them.”
“Can I capture one?” Angelica piped up.
“No,” Elinor told her, shaking her head. “Nobody can, and if they did, it would be quite … dreadful, really. Stars are meant to be admired from afar; that is where their magic lies.”
“Is magic real, Lady Elinor?” Toby asked innocently.
Lucien found himself smiling as Elinor took a seat, clearly pondering the question.
Her eyes glazed over as she thought before they snapped right back into focus.
Still, she did not notice him, and although Lucien had spent his dukedom making sure he was noticed, he was glad he had not been seen.
He was enjoying witnessing Elinor when nobody but children noticed her.
She was different like this, less tense, more open, more herself, even if Lucien did not entirely know what that meant yet.
What he did know was that she clearly had an affinity for this run-down school room far more than she did for ballrooms, where she ought to belong.
But, no, here was where she belonged, and that was partially why he had become so focused on the renovations.
It was for the women and children, yes, but he also wanted to deliver a deserving classroom to a tutor who clearly loved what she did.
A strange feeling grew in Lucien’s chest, something vaguely recognizable, something he had long ignored and buried to not feel, but he still shoved it away now, ignored it, as he always did.
“I think that magic can be real,” Elinor finally answered. “But it is not in puffs of bright light, like one might think.”
Lucien smiled, listening to how her societal tutoring entered her voice even with these children whose education far paled in comparison to what she must have had. He liked the fact that she might be speaking to them as such, so that they pick up the same speech patterns.
“Then, what is it like?”
Elinor gave a small smile, and Lucien was hooked for a moment longer than he liked, before she spoke again.
“It is like … like a feeling in your chest. It burrows, and for a moment, it feels quite terrifying, but then it grows and grows, until you yourself feel as though you are about to streak through the night sky, just like the shooting stars I taught you all about.”
“I want to be a shooting star!” Toby cried out, giggling. “How do I feel the magic, then?”
“I think it is about …” Elinor mused, pausing.
Lucien cocked his head, wondering what she was thinking about.
“I think it is about finding something—or someone, even, when you are much older—that is so special, so different, to the world you know, and they change everything. Magic is when your world is turned on its head, and you feel as though you do not know what to do with it, yet, at the same time, it feels right. It feels as though you have waited for it forever.”
Lucien was just as hooked as the children were, clinging to her every last, beautiful word.
“Forever sounds a long time to wait,” Angelica sighed. “Do I have to spend my waiting time with Toby?”
“Hey!” Toby complained. “What’s wrong with spending it with me? I thought we were friends! I brought you an extra slice of toast at breakfast yesterday.”
Angelica giggled, and Lucien couldn’t help the small smile he gave watching the children tease one another in such an innocent way.
As he crossed his arms over his chest, simply enjoying watching the scene without being part of it, he was spied by Billy.
He gave a loud, dramatic gasp. “Your Grace!”
Blast it, Lucien thought, immediately looking towards Elinor, whose eyes were already on him.
He gave her a small nod as he cocked his head. Pushing off the doorframe, Lucien entered the room at her gesture of invitation.
“I do not want to intrude,” he told her.
Her face flushed, and he was intrigued by that reaction. “You are not. You own this building; you are always welcome to enter whenever you please.”
“Own it, I may, but this is your domain, Lady Elinor. You say who enters.” He flashed her a grin and enjoyed how her blush deepened. She cleared her throat, busying herself with the lesson notes on her desk. “Good evening, children. Are you enjoying your lesson tonight?”
“We are!” Toby called out, ever the loudest. Lucien liked him. “We have been speaking about magic.”
“So I heard.” Lucien glanced back at Elinor, giving her a smirk to let her know he had indeed been eavesdropping.
Her eyes widened slightly, no doubt wondering just what he had heard.
“Have you experienced magic, Your Grace?” Angelica asked, her eyes big and fixed upon him.
Lucien paused. For a moment, he felt the thrill of his younger years, of that first, hard pound of his heart when he saw—
No, he thought. That was not magic. That was … that was heartbreak waiting to happen.
He coughed. “No.” And then he softened his voice. “No, I do not believe I have. Yet.”
“Well, we have begun seeing some magic!” Billy told him. “The breakfast spread has magically expanded. There were so many more options the last few days.”
Lucien smiled, thinking of how he had ordered food to be delivered to Fielding House in abundance, making sure the supplier knew to not spare anything for the coin Lucien had given.
“Is that so?” he asked, laughing quietly. “That does very much sound like magic.”
“There was lots of fruit,” Toby cut in. “I liked the apples, and we did not even run out of food! Usually, we get a few bites and then the food is gone, but these days, there are always leftovers. I even snuck a pastry into my pocket.”
“Oh, Toby,” Elinor said, “you do not have to sneak anything away. The food is yours to enjoy whenever you please.” She looked at Lucien. “Is that right?”
“It is indeed. In fact, I would like to ask you all to indulge until your stomachs are so full that they feel as though they will burst. I want you to enjoy what is provided.”
“We also have been getting new pillows and blankets for sleep time,” another child spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. “I have slept better than I have in a while. It is ever so comfortable.”
“And—and!” Billy said, standing up in his excitement. “There are more beds! It means that I don’t have to share with Toby, because he shoves his feet in my face when he is asleep.”
“I don’t,” Toby complained, groaning. Angelica, next to him, giggled.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Angelica said, cutting through the din of the children speaking about their favorite changes among one another. Lucien was pleased, listening to them all, knowing he had done right by them. “We know it’s you who’s done this. Lady Elinor said so.”
“She did?”
“She did,” Billy confirmed. “She is very happy.”
Lucien locked eyes with Elinor, who smiled softly.
“I am,” she reaffirmed. “You have changed these children’s lives already.”
“And it is only the beginning,” he swore, aware of the many pairs of eyes on them, listening in curiously.
“What else you have planned, Your Grace?” one child asked, near the back of the school room. He was huddled in a blanket, his eyes dark with fatigue and face drawn.
Lucien’s mouth set grimly. “I will be changing the conditions around here,” he told them. “No more early wake-ups if you do not want them. No more grueling hours. The work you do from now on will be your choice, not anyone else’s.”
The children looked at one another, as though the promise was too large to hold. A girl near the back clutched her blanket tighter, and Toby whispered something to Angelica that made her eyes go wide.
“And there will be outings,” Lucien added, glancing at Elinor. “Fresh air. Parks. Things children ought to have.”
“I can also volunteer for that,” Elinor told him. “It would bring me a lot of happiness to take the children around a nearby park. Perhaps Newton can tag along.”
At the mention of the cute tabby Lucien had found himself fond of at first sight, cheers went up through the room.
“Park day!” One child shouted excitedly, and Lucien grinned at Elinor.
This was a new purpose. This was far better pleasure to see than any praise he received in the ton.
“Anyway,” he announced loudly, “I shall not interrupt your lesson any further. I will let you continue in peace.” He nodded and went to bow out of the room, but Elinor cleared her throat, her cheeks pink.
He was not certain they had ever stopped being since he entered.
“Or you could stay?” she suggested. “The children enjoy having you here. They went for so long without knowing who owned this place—perhaps mercifully so, though, given the conditions they lived in—so to know you are here, and to know that you are invested in them, it is a good thing.”
When Lucien still hesitated, Elinor moved away from her desk, slightly closer to him.
“Stay?” she urged, a tinge of hope in her tone. But then a devious little smile curled her lips. “Besides, how will you know I am worth keeping as a tutor, worth any of what we have planned, if you do not experience my lessons?”
Lucien chuckled at her wit, finally nodding. “Fine. But not for long.”
“I will be concluding the lesson soon, anyway.” Elinor smiled brightly at him as he hovered.
“You must sit down,” Angelica told him in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I am sorry?”
“You are a pupil now, too, so you must sit with us and have a slate.”
Lucien blinked, dumbfound, even as another child rushed over with a slate for him, giving him a nudge to sit down among them. And so, he did. He did not miss the amusement on Elinor’s face: he, a grown duke, sitting among a room full of tiny children, eager to learn.
“Now,” Elinor giggled, “where was I? Ah, yes, stars.”