Chapter 12
Reese stood at the parlor window, watching the frost-covered gardens of Kellworth sparkle in the morning sunlight. Her hand rested unconsciously on her still-flat abdomen as her mind churned through the reality of what lay ahead.
The pregnancy test was the only proof she had that she was pregnant. Well, that and the increasing nausea. Maybe it wouldn’t seem real until she finally felt the baby move.
“Dear Clarisse,” Ellen said, already dressed for the day, barely containing herself.
The young woman looked happy and glowed as if she had swallowed sunshine.
“I have the most wonderful news. I received a letter from a Lord Hartwell in London, who is involved in estate improvements. He heard about our work with the cottiers and wishes to discuss establishing similar efforts on other estates.”
Reese turned from the window. This was exactly what she and Ellen had hoped would happen, that their work would spread beyond just Kellworth. “That’s wonderful. Will Gareth be interested?”
“He has already agreed to the meeting. But more importantly,” Ellen clasped her hands together as if she were praying, “the gentleman specifically asked if the American lady who designed the training programs might be available to consult on similar projects.”
Reese’s breath caught. She had only given the Hildebrands the initial push. They had run with it. “When is this meeting?”
Ellen’s eyes dimmed. “After the new year. I would love for you to remain here longer, but I understand why you cannot.”
“Oh, Ellen.” Reese reached for her friend’s hands, finding them cold despite the warm room.
“You and Gareth and now Michael and Catherine deserve the credit for all you’ve done.
My university degree was to do what I did with you and the cottiers: share basic skills and then leave you to take it further.
Which you’ve all done wonderfully. You deserve this recognition, and just think about how many more lives will be improved because of what you’ve accomplished here. ”
“Perhaps, but?—”
“Sorry, my dear friend, but there’s no perhaps about it.
” Reese gave Ellen a quick hug, trying to infuse her with confidence.
“You’ve already proved yourself. Look at how you handled that crisis with the supplies when the wagon broke down.
You organized the seamstresses into their own cooperative.
You convinced your brother to fund the community center. ”
Ellen’s eyes misted. “It was you who gave me the courage to try.”
“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.
The first time I met you at that dinner at Twickenham, I could see how much you wanted to break free.
All I did was show you a different way to view it.
” A thought niggled at the back of her mind.
“I think this meeting will be an opportunity for you to take the lead. You should explain the programs yourself.”
Ellen responded with a flat look, which made Reese laugh.
“Do you believe I truly could?” Ellen asked.
“Yes, but you will probably need Gareth to make them listen to you. But it’s your vision.
The others have been following your lead.
So lead.” Reese squeezed her hand, thinking of her own struggles and doubts.
“Believe me when I say I speak from experience. Sometimes we have to take a leap before we can fly.”
Before Ellen could protest further, voices from outside drew their attention.
They hurried to the foyer. Through the partly open door, they could see Jem walking alongside Michael, both men carrying an assortment of carpentry tools, apparently headed somewhere.
Sawdust clung to Jem’s shirt and sleeves, and he wore a familiar expression, the one he got when he’d been absorbed in practical work.
“What are they up to?” Reese wondered aloud, though the sight of Jem looking so content made her heart swell. Then it caught on the worry she hadn’t figured out how to fix.
Ellen beamed, her earlier concern apparently easing into something distinctly pleased. “Michael told me he planned to ask Jem for help to build something.”
“Sounds like fun. Don’t close it,” Reese called before the footman could close the door. After grabbing a shawl, she rushed outside.
She followed them to an outbuilding. “What are you up to, Jem?”
At the sound of his name, Jem glanced back to find Reese hurrying toward them with that familiar mixture of amusement and affection on her face that was only for him.
She had mussed her hair, probably from her hurried exit.
He had to resist the instinctive urge to go to her and brush it away. And steal a kiss.
“I’m learning some old-fashioned building techniques. Maybe one summer I can volunteer at a historical re-creation.” Jem shifted his tools.
Michael gave an approving nod. “Anyone who has spent years managing scenery and building sets understands structure better than most craftsmen realize. You already think in terms of load, balance, and movement.”
Jem shrugged, though he could not deny the quiet satisfaction that came with hearing it put that way. “I suppose a puppet booth isn’t much different from a stage if you strip it down far enough.”
“So a puppet booth?” Reese joined him.
“For the cottiers,” Jem said. “Michael’s idea.”
Michael inclined his head. “They wanted something to entertain and asked about Punch and Judy puppets. When I mentioned it to Jem, he said that besides short moral plays, they could use puppets to teach the children about storytelling and encourage their creativity.”
“They need it to be sturdy but portable, and simple enough to be assembled without fuss.” Jem loved this part of his drama teaching job back home, where he got the kids involved with the design of their stage sets and helped them put to work the practical application of their math and even learn a little engineering without realizing it.
“I got the idea from a project the estate woodworker is doing. Come see.” Jem handed the toolbox to Michael and took her hand.
With a chuckle, Ellen’s husband followed.
Jem opened the workshop door. Pale winter light fell across the floor, dusted with wood shavings, and he led the way inside.
When Michael had first shown it to him, Jem’s drama teacher brain had kicked in before he’d taken three steps. Along one wall stood several hinged panels in various stages of completion. Some were bare wood, some primed, and two had been painted in rich, warm colors.
Flats. They were building flats. The builder followed the same basic principle his students wrestled with every fall production, though these were constructed with a craftsmanship that made his school’s efforts look like what they were: students working with enthusiasm but on a tight budget.
“See?” Jem ran a hand along the smooth edge, appreciating the proper fitting.
“The hinge placement has been engineered for stability.” He folded it and opened it again.
“This is something I can teach my students. And check out these narrow frames.” Jem lifted one, grinning at the perfect balance.
“It’s lighter than it looks, which means it could be moved by one person if necessary.
I need this kind of thing for school productions. ”
“You are so cute,” Reese said.
Michael cleared his throat. “I don’t think cute is what he’s going for.”
“Thank you.” Jem shot his wife a flat look. “I would say practical. This process is simpler than what I’ve been using. It’s important for the kids to feel like they’ve accomplished something with the stage construction.”
“You’re absolutely right. I didn’t mean to unman you with my cute comment.” When he opened his mouth to protest, Reese winked at him and said, “I’ve always known you were good at this, but I can see you enjoy it too. You two have made it look easy.”
“That’s kind of the point,” Jem said. “If it’s hard, people won’t use it. Michael was very clear about that.”
Michael nodded. “Good intentions fail quickly if the work becomes a burden.”
“Smart,” Reese agreed.
Ellen stepped closer, examining one of the panels. “Is this based on the sketch I made?”
“With a few adjustments,” Michael agreed. “Jem suggested reinforcing the corners. Wind has a way of undoing optimism.”
“I learned that at the school of hard knocks.” Jem shot a glance at Ellen.
“It comes from mistakes made. I’ve spent years trying to plan for anything that can go wrong.
It’s the same logic as traveling scenery for a play,” he added, more to himself than anyone else.
“Light materials. Reinforced stress points. Built for use rather than for display. It’s fun to apply the same thinking here. ”
Michael studied him for a moment, then nodded. “In landscape architecture, I have often had to do much of the same. It translates well for this project.”
Jem enjoyed being appreciated for his competence. Once upon a time, when he was in college, he would have sought praise for his acting ambition or aspirations. He found this more fulfilling.
“I’m impressed,” Reese said softly. “And I shouldn’t be. I’ve seen your work, so I know how good you are at it.”
“Thanks.” Jem brushed off his hands and pulled her in for a kiss. Then he smirked at her. “I’ll happily listen to you admiring me.”
“You are such a punk sometimes, but I love you anyway.” She gave his cheek a peck before stepping next to Ellen.
“I almost forgot,” the younger woman said with a soft laugh.
Michael and Jem turned to face her.
“What’s wrong?” Michael asked, taking Ellen’s hand.
“Nothing is wrong.” She explained about a lord who ran a charitable society wanting to check out what Ellen had done for the village.
“Isn’t this great?” Reese murmured.
“This is brilliant. Gareth mentioned having talked with him.” Michael put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “He said this Hartwell was a schoolmaster before he unexpectedly inherited his title. He has a reputation for being thoughtful and practical.”
“Exactly so,” Ellen said, her eyes gleaming. “And Jem is also a schoolmaster and has experience in the theater and in organizing people and teaching through creative work. Your flair for storytelling makes learning fun for the children. And how you help the men organize their tasks.”
Jem frowned. “I don’t understand. What role do you think we would play with this guy? Reese and I are just visitors.”
“Both your and Clarisse’s previous insight with the cottiers has been invaluable,” Ellen said simply.
“I’ve already told her we can’t stay longer.” Reese shrugged. “Ellen will have to take the lead in this, and brainstorming never hurts.”
For a moment, Ellen looked vulnerable. Michael pulled her into his arms and whispered something to her that they couldn’t hear. She nodded finally and sent Reese a long-suffering look.
She laughed. “As I told you before, my friend. Nobody said the crown was comfortable. And even if you don’t want it, you’re a leader here.” She gave Ellen a quick and sympathetic hug before taking Jem’s arm.
They left the workshop, Michael and Ellen locking the door.
“She just wants us there because she’s feeling insecure?” Jem asked when they were out of earshot of the other couple.
“She didn’t ask outright, but I could tell what she was hinting at. It’s hard enough for me sometimes in our time, but for a woman to speak up in 1853?” Reese sighed. “At least they have a strong queen.”
They were silent until they reached the courtyard.
“Are we really doing this?” Reese asked softly. “Having a baby?”
He stopped to face her. “Yes, and I’m just as excited as you are. I love you.” Jem moved his hand to her belly. “All of you.”
Reese gave a sputtering gasp. “Our baby is barely the size of a pea.”
“Well, I love our pea already.” Jem pressed a soft kiss to her cold lips.
“You two are so sweet,” Ellen said.
“Best to get your PDAs done now,” Michael warned with a grin. “Or we’ll hear the Colonel complain all evening.”
Laughing, they entered the house.