Chapter Twenty-Two
September arrived at Montrose Manor with golden sunshine and the promise of harvest, weather perfect for the grand opening of the Duke of Ashford Memorial School.
After months of construction, the building was complete—two bright classrooms, a beautiful library with floor-to-ceiling shelves already filled with books, and a small garden where children could play during breaks.
The village had been buzzing with excitement for weeks.
By early afternoon, it seemed the entire village had gathered in front of the new school.
Farmers and shopkeepers, craftsmen and laborers, their wives and children.
It pleased Sophia to see how everyone had come to witness this moment.
Many of the children had never attended any school before, had never owned a book or learned to write their own names.
The building itself gleamed in the late summer sunshine, its fresh paint and new windows making it look almost too fine for the humble village.
A small platform had been erected in front of the school’s entrance.
Sophia stood nearby with Charlotte, Thomas, Edward, and Sebastian and James, who’d come from London for the occasion.
Amelia stood between Sophia and Charlotte, bouncing with excitement in a pretty blue dress.
Henry stepped forward, and the crowd quieted. “The idea for this school came to me in a dream,” he began, his voice carrying across the crowd.
Sophia’s throat tightened. She tugged a hanky from where she had tucked it earlier, knowing she would need it.
“Fourteen years ago, my wife’s father, The Duke of Ashford, was falsely accused of a crime he didn’t commit.
He was convicted and executed for murder, leaving his three young children orphaned and penniless.
To say it was a terrible injustice is mild, one that was only corrected years later when the real killer was found and the Duke’s name was cleared. ”
The crowd murmured. Many knew this story already, as it had been the scandal of its time.
“This school bears the Duke of Ashford’s name as a way to honor him.
He loved children. Not only his own, but all children.
He gave much of his time and money to help children in need but when he died, his work died with him.
” Henry gestured to the building behind him.
“Your children will learn to read here. To write. To do sums and study history and geography. They’ll have books to borrow and take home.
Because, in the words of the late Lord Ashford, every child deserves an education, regardless of their family’s circumstances. ”
A cheer rose from the crowd. Several mothers were wiping their eyes.
“And now, I will ask my wife to open its doors for the first time,” Henry said.
The crowd erupted in applause. Henry stepped down from the platform and came to Sophia, taking her hand. Together, they walked to the school’s front door. He handed Sophia an oversized brass key.
“Would you do the honors, my lady?”
Sophia fitted the key into the lock. She sensed her father’s presence, as if he were standing beside her, watching with pride. She turned the key. The lock clicked. She pushed the door open and turned back to the crowd.
“The Duke of Ashford Memorial School is officially open,” Sophia said, voice breaking.
The crowd cheered. Children rushed forward, eager to see inside. Their parents followed more slowly, awed by the beautiful classrooms, the rows of desks, the library with its hundreds of books.
Sophia stood in the doorway, watching families explore the building. A little girl, maybe seven years old, with tangled blonde hair and bare feet, stood in the library with her mouth open, staring at the shelves.
“Are all these books for us?” she asked her mother.
“Yes, love. You can read any of them you like.”
“But I don’t know how to read.”
“That’s what Miss Clarke will teach you.” The mother smiled through tears. “You’re going to learn to read and write and do sums. The first in our family to do so.”
Sophia felt Henry’s arm come around her waist.
“That’s why we did this,” he said. “To give her a chance for a different life.”
She nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak.
They stayed for hours, greeting families, showing children the classrooms, introducing everyone to Miss Clarke, the young teacher they’d hired from London, highly educated and deeply committed to teaching village children.
By the time they finally returned to the manor for the celebration, Sophia said her face hurt from smiling.
“What a wonderful day you gave me,” Sophia said to her husband. “I shall remember it always.”
“As will I,” Henry said. “Especially you.”
*
They had invited the entire village to the party at Montrose Manor.
The formal dining room had been opened, but so had the servants’ hall, the kitchens, even the gardens.
Villagers mingled with gentry, farmers drank ale alongside baronets, children chased each other across the lawn while their mothers sampled Mrs. Mills’s elaborate cakes.
Sophia turned to see Charlotte approaching. She looked different. Always elegant and beautiful but something else.
She took Sophia’s hand. “I need to tell you my news. Something wonderful.”
“What is it?”
“I’m going to have a baby.” Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears. “After all these years. After I’d given up hope. The doctor confirmed it last week.”
“Charlotte, that’s the most wonderful confirmation of all.” Sophia pulled her into a hug.
“I can hardly believe it. Thomas and I have been married five years. I thought it would never happen. That something was wrong with me.”
“But there was not. It seems the timing was not right until now. I’m delighted for you. And for me. I’ll get to be…what will I be exactly? An aunt?”
“An aunt sounds just right. And we can raise the children all together, like Henry and Thomas and I were.” Charlotte wiped her eyes, laughing. “Wreaking havoc wherever we went.”
“Amelia will be the leader, I’m sure,” Sophia said, laughing.
Charlotte was called away just as Henry, Sebastian and James approached. Sophia held out her hand to her husband, giving him her brightest smile. “Darling, it couldn’t have gone better, don’t you think?”
Henry nodded. “I’m pleased.”
“Papa would have loved to see this,” Sebastian said.
“He would have,” James agreed, slapping Henry’s back. “And he would have been so proud to call you family, Montrose.”
“I wish I could have known him,” Henry said. “But am glad to be able to honor him in some small way.”
“This was not small,” James said.
“The addition of a school to your village will affect many generations to come,” Sebastian said. “Well done. Both of you.” He nodded at Henry and then at Sophia. “You should be very proud of what you’ve built here.”
“We are,” Sophia said. “But mostly it’s Henry who made this all happen.”
“You were my inspiration, dearest,” Henry said.
As evening fell and lanterns were lit across the gardens, the party continued.
Musicians had been hired, and dancing began on the lawn.
Henry found Sophia and pulled her into the circle of dancers.
And they danced until the stars came out, until the children grew tired and were carried home by their parents, until the villagers had thanked them a dozen times and departed with full bellies and happy hearts.
As Sophia drifted off to sleep that night, snuggled close to her husband, she heard her father’s voice.
You have made me proud. You can rest easy now.