by Deborah Hale
The children laughed at that, Alfie loudest of all. The tension Jasper had sensed in the room eased.
“Your father and I had some matters to discuss,” Miss Fairfax explained. “We did not want to be interrupted or wake you, so we went outside. I hope you haven’t eaten all the porridge. Our walk has given me an appetite and I expect your father is hungry too.”
“Now that you mention it, I am rather.” Jasper tried to infuse his voice with the gratitude he felt. Her calm, caring manner seemed to have relieved his children’s fears.
He sank onto a chair between Alfie and Rosie while Miss Fairfax took a seat between Matthew and Owen. She ladled a generous helping of porridge into a bowl and passed it to him.
“What are we going to do today?” asked Matthew.
Jasper shook his head. “I hadn’t thought. The weather looks fine, so something outdoors perhaps. Do you have any suggestions?”
The words were scarcely out of his mouth before his son replied, “Could we go for a boat ride down the river like we did last summer?”
Matthew’s brothers and sisters were quick to endorse the idea.
Jasper considered his son’s suggestion. “That will take a bit of planning to accommodate all our guests. But as soon as I can arrange it, we will go.”
The children seemed satisfied with that.
“The parish fair is on Saturday,” said Emma. “Can we go?”
“Please, Papa!” Rosie turned her most appealing look upon him. “It’s such great fun.”
Jasper smiled at his daughters. “That sounds like a fine idea.”
The children cheered.
By now they had all finished their breakfast. Jasper hurried to clean his bowl. “Before we do anything else, there is something I would like to talk to you about.”
“What is it, Papa?” For once Rosie beat Matthew to the question.
Jasper hesitated. Fatherly instinct urged him to shield his youngest daughter, like the delicate blossom for which she was named, from the blight of harsh reality. He glanced at Evangeline Fairfax, whose vivid features radiated encouragement.
“Why don’t you go to the chair, sir.” She nodded toward a large upholstered armchair beside the nursery hearth where she often sat to read to her pupils. “The children can gather round you.”
“That is an excellent idea.” Jasper scooped Rosie into his arms and carried her to the chair. He sat down with his little daughter on his knee.
The others followed. Matthew and Emma stood on either side of the chair, while Alfie and Owen sat on a footstool in front of it. They all gazed at him expectantly.
“It’s about my mill.” He searched for the right words. “Our mill, I should say. Miss Fairfax thought you should know more about it. You see, it is run rather differently than other cotton mills in Manchester.”
He repeated some of what he had told their governess about the dangers and hardships faced by textile workers, including many children their age.
As he spoke, they responded in different ways according to their temperaments. Matthew began to fidget. Alfie’s eyes flashed. Emma and Owen stared at him in thoughtful silence. Rosie began to suck her thumb. She looked puzzled, as if Manchester was a very strange place she could not understand. Yet in other respects his children were in complete agreement—their sympathy for the workers and their outrage at the injustice. It echoed Jasper’s feelings and stirred his heart. Never had he felt quite so close to his children. He sensed a bond linking them to the family he had lost so long ago.
“That’s not right!” Alfie burst out at last, as if the indignation brewing in his warm little heart could no longer be contained. “Those children ought to be playing and learning like we do, not working all the time.”
As gently as he could, Jasper explained how many families needed their children’s small wages in order to get by. He told them some attended Sabbath schools, as he had done.
Miss Fairfax had helped Jane clear the breakfast table, but now she rejoined the family. She sank onto the floor beside the footstool and put her arm around Alfie. “Tell them about New Hope Mills, sir, and all you have done to improve the lives of the people who work for you. I’m sure they will be very interested and very proud.”
The children nodded and murmured their agreement. All fixed him with looks of admiration and affection.
Jasper told them how he had abolished payment with shop tokens and built better housing for his workers. The children seemed most interested in hearing about the recreational activities he provided, from sporting events to concerts to a small lending library.
Rosie removed her thumb from her mouth. “I’d like to go to a concert. Will you take me to Manchester the next time they have one, Papa?”
Before he could answer her question, the rest were clamoring to go as well.
Jasper shot their governess a look that appealed for her assistance.
She did not fail him. “You will not need to go all the way to Manchester to see a concert, Rosie. Miss Webster is very fond of music and your father has asked her to organize a concert here at Amberwood. I hope you will all take part in it.”
“I will!” Rosie bounced excitedly on Jasper’s knee. “I want to sing that song about the little bird.”
The boys were quick to suggest pieces they could perform and soon they were all talking about the concert. The notion of visiting Manchester seemed to have been forgotten, for which Jasper was deeply grateful.
When the children let her get a word in, Miss Fairfax suggested they go down to the music room and practice while their father joined his guests for breakfast.
“Before you go,” said Jasper, remembering the purpose of this talk, “there is one more thing I would like to say.”
They quieted and gave him their full attention once again.
Jasper looked into each beloved young face, trying to impress his point upon them. “It is not an easy task running New Hope Mills the way I do while still making money from it. But I believe it is important work that needs doing.”
Alfie gave an emphatic nod while the others murmured their agreement.
“That is why I must spend so much time in Manchester,” Jasper continued, “when it would be a great deal more enjoyable to be here with you.”
The children seemed to accept his explanation, disappointed by what it meant for them but understanding the necessity. Jasper congratulated himself.
Then Owen spoke up. “I think we should go live with you in Manchester, Papa. Then you will be able to see us as much as you like and we can help you with your work.”
Matthew and Alfie were quick to agree, as was Rosie. Emma looked torn by the choice between leaving her beloved home and seeing more of her father.
“That is a very kind offer, son.” Once again, Jasper silently appealed to Miss Fairfax to rescue him. “But Manchester is not nearly as pleasant a place as the Vale of Eden. And besides... what would your grandmother do without you?”
“She could come and visit us,” said Alfie.
“And we could all come to Amberwood for Christmas and the summer,” Matthew added.
“I suppose... but...” Desperation seized Jasper by the throat. “Perhaps when you are older. Miss Fairfax, tell the children why it is better for them to stay here at Amberwood.”
He waited confidently for her to assist him.
Instead she patted his youngest son on the shoulder. “I think it is a wonderful idea. Well done, Owen!”
Her response struck Jasper like a knife between the shoulder blades. After years of respectful tolerance, he thought the two of them had finally become allies. How could Evangeline Fairfax have picked this critical moment to betray him?
“What possessed you to encourage that mad idea of my children moving to Manchester?” Jasper Chase glared at Evangeline from behind his writing table a few hours later.
She had sensed her employer was not happy with her after their talk with his children, but they’d had no opportunity to discuss the matter
until he summoned her from the music room to his study. His face had a livid cast and every feature was clenched so tight, it looked as though something might snap.
“I do not think it is a mad idea at all.” Evangeline strove to calm Mr. Chase by speaking in an even tone. “Owen is an uncommonly sensible boy for his age. I believe it would do you and the children good to live as a family rather than occasional visitors. Since you have important work that requires your presence in Manchester, it makes sense that they ought to join you.”
It puzzled her why he could not understand that and why the very idea seemed to enrage him.
He took a deep breath and made an obvious effort to maintain his composure. “After our talk this morning, I thought you understood. A large industrial city is not a proper place to raise a young family. My children are better off here in the country.”
“Are they?” Though she tried to remain calm, Evangeline felt her temper rising.
She felt something else, too, which dismayed her. Since coming to Amberwood, her attitude toward Jasper Chase had been one of wary neutrality at best, though she’d worked hard to conceal it from the children. As a consequence, she’d felt free to say whatever she liked to him, regardless of whether he wanted to hear it. Yet in a perilously short time, her attitude had undergone a drastic change. She had come to admire her employer and sympathize with him. As a consequence, she did care that he was vexed with her. But why should he be? She only wanted what was best for him and his children... and his new wife. Surely the lady would expect to see her husband more often than the distance between Amberwood and Manchester would allow.
Somehow the image of the Chase family with Margaret Webster at its center no longer appealed to Evangeline as much as it had before.
Such confused, heightened emotions threw her off balance and made her defensive. “Are your children better off separated from their father? You heard them this morning. They care about your workers and they want to help. If you truly wish to see your work continue and spread, I believe you have far more to hope from your children than from the other mill owners. But you must act soon to get the children involved before they begin to resent your work as a rival for your attention.”
Her arguments did not sway Jasper Chase except perhaps in the opposite direction. His full, dark brows clashed together over flashing eyes. One powerful hand slashed the air, demanding her silence. “That is quite enough, Miss Fairfax! Since you are determined to abandon my children, you have forfeited the right to have a say in how I choose to raise them. From now on, I will thank you not to encourage them in thinking they should live with me in Manchester.”
His words bit into Evangeline’s heart the way her teachers’ switches had once bitten into her hands. She found herself vulnerable to Jasper Chase’s criticism in a way she had not been before. It puzzled her why that should be. One thing she did know was that she could not abide it.
She tilted her chin and stiffened her spine, wishing she was capable of making herself physically taller. “You are a fine one to talk about me abandoning your children! I have been with them night and day for the past six years, caring for them when they were ill, comforting them when they were sad or frightened. You only came home long enough to take them on outings and play games. Your work in Manchester is important, but your children need to know you will be with them through bad times as well as good.”
“I want to spare them from bad times!” His hand crashed down upon the writing table with thunderous force. “Can you not see that? I want to protect them from squalor and ugliness and misery the way my father protected me from the smoke and flames at the cost of his own life.”
The pain of that memory seemed to drain the power from his anger, the way a fire sucked all the air from an enclosed chamber. His shoulders slumped and his eyes dimmed with a lifetime of unshed tears. “It costs me more than you know to be away from my family, Miss Fairfax. That may be why I want the time we do spend together to be as happy as possible.”
Jasper Chase’s sorrow and regret affected Evangeline in a way his hostility never could. It flowed beneath her defenses, weakening the foundations until they threatened to crumble. Might she have better success reaching him if she changed her approach?
Making a conscious effort to soften her voice, she asked, “Could it be that you are driven to protect the family you have now because you could not protect the one you lost?”
She did not mean it as an accusation but rather a possible insight into his actions.
Jasper Chase did not take her question in the spirit she had intended. His head snapped back as if he’d been dealt a powerful blow. He stared at her with a deeply aggrieved look. “I will thank you not to speculate on my motives, Miss Fairfax. I have tried to do the best I can for my family while endeavoring to make a positive difference in the lives of people few others pay any regard.”
Evangeline tried to summon the words to assure him that she did not question his feelings for his children or the vital importance of his philanthropy. But the look of misery etched on his bold, handsome features paralyzed her tongue. Her words had sown the pain in his eyes and in his heart. She feared she would only make matters worse if she said anything more.
Mr. Chase heaved a deep sigh. “Perhaps you are right to believe it is impossible to do important work and raise a family properly. I have no choice but to try. If you have any respect for me or love for my children, please do as I ask. Whether they or you realize it, my family is better off here.”
Of course she loved his children! Evangeline bristled at the mere suggestion that her feelings might be otherwise. As for their father, her respect for him had increased so much during the past ten days that she might almost mistake it for a different feeling altogether.
“Please, sir...” Could she make him understand when she was not certain she understood herself? For far too long, she had questioned his feelings for his family. But she had been wrong. Now that she knew about his work and his past, she had begun to value Jasper Chase as he deserved. That did not mean she was mistaken about the importance of him spending more time with his children.
“I think you have said enough, Miss Fairfax.” He backed away from his writing table to stand before the window. There he angled himself to look outside. “And I have probably said too much. If it will not be possible for you to oblige me, perhaps you ought to consider leaving Amberwood sooner than we discussed.”
Was he politely threatening to dismiss her if she refused to obey him? Evangeline could not decide if she was more aggrieved or outraged. Her head felt too tight suddenly to contain her raging thoughts, as did her chest to hold her stormy heart.
“Indeed, sir.” She spoke with clipped precision, desperate to maintain her composure. “I believe you have said altogether too much.”
With that, she marched out of his study without asking his leave to go. She did not trust herself to stay another minute without risking a humiliating outburst of tears.
What had he done? Jasper chided himself that evening when his temper had cooled. The last thing he wanted was to have Evangeline Fairfax leave Amberwood after having managed its nursery so capably for the past six years. He wished she did not have to go two months from now to open her charity school. He could not abide the prospect of her leaving immediately.
Throughout the afternoon, as his children and guests amused themselves in the garden, he had done his best to stay away from Miss Fairfax. Part of him feared he might say something that would provoke her to pack her bags that very night. Another part worried that he might back down and grovel in an effort to persuade her to stay.
He could not avoid her when he’d gone to the nursery to hear his children’s prayers and tuck them in for the night. Yet somehow she managed to maintain a safe distance between them without betraying any hint of their discord to her young pupils. He expected the children to besiege him with more pleas to go to Manchester, but no one said a word about it. Jasper wondered if Miss Fairfax had spoken to
them on the subject and what she had said. But he would rather have jumped off the roof than ask her. He left the nursery and headed to dinner in a fog of bewilderment.
He was grateful not to have to talk much during the meal that evening. He allowed Miss Anstruther to drone on, with occasional caustic interjections from Mrs. Leveson, while he nodded at appropriate intervals. Meanwhile, his thoughts returned to his unsettling interview with Evangeline Fairfax.
He had been unduly severe with her, which he regretted. A month ago, it would not have surprised or troubled him to disagree with her. They might have argued over their difference of opinion, but he would not have felt the sting of personal betrayal. Nor would he have lashed out at her so fiercely.
Back then, Miss Fairfax would not have presumed to comment on the most painful experience of his life because she would have known nothing about it. Had he been foolish to trust her with such a sensitive confidence, giving her ammunition to use against him if she chose? Jasper’s caution and sense of privacy agreed it had been a mistake, but part of him was still not convinced. Confiding about his past, with someone capable of understanding its effect on his present character and choices, seemed to lighten a burden he had not realized he was carrying.
But if Evangeline Fairfax understood him so well, his conscience challenged, did that mean she was right about his reasons for wanting to keep his children away from Manchester? And were those reasons good enough to justify it?
While his guests ate and conversed around him, his thoughts continued to spin, always coming up with more questions than answers. He went through the motions of dining, scarcely noticing what he put in his mouth. It came as a surprise when his mother-in-law rose and led the other ladies away. If Jasper expected to be left to reflect in peace, Piers Webster soon disabused him of that notion.
Looking from Jasper to Norton Brookes, the older man shook his head. “What’s gotten into the pair of you? You hardly said two words between you during dinner. You looked as if your minds were a hundred miles away. Not bad news from Manchester, I hope. Ever since the war, it’s been nothing but labor agitations.”