Chapter Ten #2
Bernard sighed, tugging a hand through his hair. Where to begin? “You can’t just give people money.”
Lucy’s brow wrinkled. “I can’t?”
“No,” he said heavily. “You—”
“But you see, I just did,” she pointed out, more than fairly, in Bernard’s opinion. “All of them. And I gave them money because I want to make a difference in the world, however small a form that may take.”
“I know, and I applaud you for that,” Bernard said quickly, determined to get it all out there so he wouldn’t retreat and cowardly stop. “But—”
“Bernard, you are being very sweet you know,” Lucy interrupted, a look that could only be described as knowing on her slackened face as she settled back into the armchair.
“But I’ll have you know this is nothing new.
Chances do it all the time. Two of my cousins’ wives have a keen interest in children and widows.
I feel the same, about young, unmarried women, too. ”
“And are these cousin’s wives handing coins directly into those children’s and widow’s hands?” he asked.
She cocked her head. “Not quite. They founded a charity for those too young or ill to work, though that’s only the start.”
“There you go,” Bernard said sternly, trying not to feel too pompous as he spoke. Before she could speak again, and she evidently wanted to, he held up a hand. “Please, Lucy, I am a man of the world. Let me explain the difference in such acts of charity.”
For some reason, Lucy opened her mouth, evidently considered something, then closed it again.
Pride puffed up Bernard’s chest. She was going to listen to him, to what he thought. It was wonderful, to have a woman like Lucy listen to him. When was the last time anyone had actually listened to him?
Except Hovell. And he had to.
“The thing is, with these people,” Bernard said, slipping into the lecturing tone his father had used and immediately forcing himself out of it, “they need to learn how to stand up on their own two feet.”
Lucy nodded sagely. “I quite agree.”
Of course she did. He was a genius. “And if you just give them money, well, it makes them think they can just expect money from anyone, at any time—but particularly you. They need to work for it. They need to learn how to earn it. It’s not fair, I’ll grant you, considering people of a different class are simply born into money, but that’s how the world is.
One woman can’t save everyone. Work is essential to many people’s survival. ”
Once again, Lucy nodded and Bernard’s spirits rose. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“After all, if you keep going on like this, you might find yourself accosted on the street!” Bernard shivered at the very thought.
Lucy, alone save for her maid, surrounded by a gang of people demanding money…
“It is work, and work alone, that will empower these people both to earn a living and to have self-respect.”
Lucy inclined her head. “I could not have put it better myself.”
“And so,” Bernard said, hating how his voice became so pompous but at the same time congratulating himself on a lesson well delivered, “what you have to do is—”
“Employ them,” interrupted Lucy with a sweet smile.
Bernard blinked. That wasn’t right. “I beg your pardon?”
“Employ them,” repeated Lucy, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“We are in agreement there. The best thing the poor can do in the long-term is not receive handouts, but receive a trade. Train them into work, and empower them to change their own lives. But don’t forget that they were born at a disadvantage, so it is incumbent upon my class to use its advantages to give them the head start they need when we can. ”
Somehow, the conversation had gotten entirely out of hand. It was he who was supposed to be directing it, Bernard was almost sure…and yet now it was Lucy leaning forward, and Lucy speaking in a calm, educational manner.
“You see, Bernard, that is what I have done,” Lucy said, a giggle in her voice which was nonetheless charming. “I am no fool—I know that to make the poor dependent on me keeps them poor. No, I have partnered with Alexander.”
And in an instant, all the hackles on the back of Bernard’s neck rose.
Partnered—Lucy, partnered? Partnered? With a man called ‘Alexander’?
She even calls the brute by his first name, Bernard thought viciously, though he does not deserve it. No one could deserve her. She was the most precious, the most important—
“Yes, my cousin has come into possession of a factory in the East End of London,” Lucy was continuing blithely, utterly ignorant of the rage pouring through Bernard’s veins.
She’d probably said the name at one point and he’d forgotten it in the jumble of endless Chances she’d mentioned.
“He and his wife, Marjorie, a lovely woman, one of the two wives—sisters themselves, actually—I mentioned who started that charity, wanted to… Are you quite well, Bernard? You look a spot warm.”
Bernard tugged at the cravat around his neck and wished to goodness he had half his sense.
The sense he had lost the moment he had first met Lady Lucy Chance.
Of course it was a family member. The Earl of Lindow was no fool; he would not permit his only unwed daughter to go into business with a stranger!
Wait a moment. Lucy had gone into business?
“Quite well,” he said in a strangled voice that did not support his brief statement. “Your cousin and…and his wife. They own a factory.”
“Yes, and they have made some remarkable changes, I must say,” Lucy said brightly.
“Nannies onsite to watch the children of the workers during their shifts. Shorter shifts, more open windows for fresher air… So many innovations. They wanted to expand and I suggested Brighton—well, we Lindows are here most of the year, and he’s a Cothrom Chance, the more senior branch, you know…
My point is, he gave me the responsibility of hiring the first workers.
This marks our first payday! We haven’t even gotten the new factory fully operational yet, but we’ve already made a few hires to help set it all up. ”
There was such pride, such delight in her voice that Bernard could only drop back in his chair and admire her from a distance.
Of course.
“Well, it is near the end of the month, isn’t it?”
“So given that it is around luncheon, then I would suggest you have the best odds trying George’s study…”
Clearly, Lucy’s mother, the Countess of Lindow, was fully aware of the plans too. Today was payday. The workers had come on their lunchbreak to collect their wages…from Lucy.
Lucy was grinning. “I want women in work, Bernard—where they want to work, obviously, and where they can work. Mrs. Marithorpe and Miss Sharpe have each spent months in prison for… Well, perhaps I had better not say. Suffice to say, I would much prefer them working in the newest Alexander and Marjorie’s Municipal Manufacturing Company Limited than where they were before. ”
On the streets, undoubtedly, though Bernard did not give voice to the thought. “You… You employ them?”
“Oh, well, technically, Alexander and Marjorie employ them, but I am their representative here in Brighton. For a small fee, naturally.” Lucy laughed at the expression on his face.
“I know—nobility, doing more than just owning a business and stepping back, actually caring what goes on there! Zander has lost a fair few friends in our circles for going into trade, though I would argue they were never friends to begin with. And don’t worry,” she added with a chuckle.
“Most of the nominal sum Zander insists on paying me goes straight to the Prison Reform Society. I’m not about to start my own business. ”
But if any woman could do it, Bernard could not help but think, you could.
This woman. This powerful, energetic, intelligent woman.
Was there anything she couldn’t do?
“You amaze me,” were the words that slipped through his mouth before he could stop them.
And Lucy’s cheeks pinked as she avoided his eye, and Bernard tried not to think about whether that was because she had been praised, or because he had been the one doing the praising.