A stern lady dressed in black and a high collar crossed her arms in front of her chest. “We’ve told you, the BUBO club is not a good fit for your sort of automation. You are no longer welcome to our meetings.”
Jessamine shot a glance at Tabitha, whose face fell. Tabitha whispered, “That’s Mrs. Williams.”
The other dark-haired woman stood back, placing her hands on each side of her primrose bustle. Her mouth twisted in derision. “Do you really think you can gain acceptance except by force?”
Mrs. Williams pointed away from the stables. “You are not welcome, Mrs. Steel.”
The dark-haired woman gathered up her skirts and stormed in their direction. Tabitha pulled Jessamine to the side and out of sight. They waited until the woman had stormed by before approaching the door. Jessamine’s stomach twisted as they stepped toward Mrs. Williams. The woman’s lips were puckered, and she ran her hands on both sides of her severe, ash-blonde bun. She stood much taller than Jessamine or Tabitha.
Mrs. Willimams blinked hard and nodded to Tabitha. “Miss Fitzgerald, nice to see you. And who is your guest?”
Tabitha pulled Jessamine in closer. “This is Miss Jessamine Keller. She’s visiting from the Americas.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Jessamine. “And do you already know how to re-work hats?”
Jessamine reached into her collar and pulled out her owl pendant. “Yes, my mother taught me.”
“And your inventions…are they items to improve life or take it?”
Jessamine’s hand flew to her chest as she glanced toward Tabitha in shock. “Improve life, of course.”
The woman’s face softened. “I’m sorry, I had to ask after a recent incident. Welcome. I’m Mrs. Williams. I’ve got door duty this week. Go on in and make yourself comfortable at one of our many work stations.”
Jessamine followed Tabitha into the stables as Mrs. Williams held the door open. The stable was large inside and had been converted into a work shed. One group of ladies in smocks crowded around a buggy. It was like some of the automobiles she’d seen in South Carolina.
The lady wearing brown knickerbockers, a puffy sleeved shirt and a leather apron stood by it, speaking to those gathered around. “This is my version of the automobile, but without the smelly exhaust from gasoline. Instead, it is hydro-powered. If you look right here, you will find my faux river. A spooning mechanism pivots and causes the water to rush forward, pushing the tiny waterwheels. In turn, they push the gears causing the wheels to turn. A tank catches the water as it flows. When the tank hits empty, you simply pull over, take the jug the water has emptied into and refill the tank at upper mouth of the faux river. It’s clean, and you can even keep fish in the tanks.” She lifted up one of the tanks to show goldfish swimming about. “Just remember to feed them.” She dropped bits of food in the water.
The crowd around her clapped and cheered.
Jessamine and Tabitha made their way to another display. A young woman with orange hair, wearing tattered, canvas pants stood by what looked like a barrel on wagon wheels.
“As many of you know, my father is a farmer. Every year I walk behind him, dropping seeds as he plows, and cover the seeds with my foot as I go. All day long, every day, until planting is done. I’ve spent years toiling, and my mind spun around in my head trying to think of a way to make it more efficient. Now, I’ve come up with this planter.”
She walked around to the side of the barrel. “You take the crank and turn it around over and over until it won’t turn anymore. This winds up the cord. Once you do that, you wheel it to the ground you want planted. The plow up front digs the trench while this belt pushes seeds out about a foot apart. This flap on the back covers the seed with just the right amount of dirt. And there’s even a spout at the rear to water as it goes. Cuts the planting time in half and requires fewer hands.”
A grey-haired woman stepped out and started the applause. Tabitha leaned in and whispered, “That’s Mrs. Collins.”
Mrs. Collins waited for the clapping to stop before she spoke. “This is why we are here. We are women with minds for automation. God did not intend us rot in a corner with them. When God created man, He saw that the man needed a helper and created a woman. Now, the God I serve is a smart God with grand ideas. How smart would it be to offer an idiot as a helper? To say, ‘Here you go. She’s not really good for much. She’s kind of entertaining when naked but other than that, put her in a safe place so she doesn’t hurt herself.’ No, that would make no sense at all.”
The woman’s warm eyes glowed as she addressed them. “We are not trying to take over the work of men. We only wish to be included. We see things from a different perspective than the men and that’s a good thing. It is my hope that, one day, women and men can work side by side and forge new technologies together.”
When she finished, the crowd applauded and began to separate into groups to discuss projects. Mrs. Collins approached Tabitha. “Miss Fitzgerald, so nice to see you. May I be introduced to your friend?”
Tabitha bowed in reverence to the woman. Obvious admiration and respect shone from her as she watched the older woman from under long, dark lashes. “This is Miss Jessamine Keller. Her mother is responsible for automating textile factories throughout the southeastern United States.”
The woman faced Jessamine with a welcoming grin. “Your mother is an automator?”
“Yes, my father has a great head for business and my mother has one for mechanics. Together they’ve built an empire and improved working conditions. They have their home office in a town called Chesnee in South Carolina. Their automations have freed up children from the factories. She’s developed an innovative fabric blend that will change the world of textiles, as well as the military.”
Mrs. Williams stepped closer. “I thought you said your inventions were to improve life and not take it.”
Jessamine nodded her head. “Yes, quite right. But when a woman’s son finds himself at war, would his mother not have him shielded from the danger around him? My mother has designed a fabric as soft as cotton but as tough as armor.”
“That is amazing dear.” Mrs. Collins grasped her by the forearm and nodded. “I applaud all your mother is doing on both fronts. I wish someone would take up the cause of the children here. Many children have suffered in factories for their cheap labor, casting education aside. It’s a terrible affliction.”
Jessamine nodded. “My parents have also endowed schools in Chesnee so that the populace will be educated and ready for a future in automation. They don’t want an ignorant workforce.”
“And are the girls educated along with the boys?”
A warm smile crossed Jessamine’s face as she thought of what her parents were doing. “Yes, ma’am. Girls and boys are educated together.”
“Wonderful. Now, has Tabitha taken you to see what she’s been working on?”
Jessamine shook her head. “Not yet.”
Mrs. Collins gestured for them to lead the way. “Please Tabitha, introduce us to your automation.”
Tabitha led them to a countertop full of appliances. “I’ve spent a great deal of time in the kitchen at home with Sarah, our housekeeper. Watching her work has helped me come up with great ideas for how to automate her labors. Automation should be for the common woman, too.”
She pointed to a device on a shelf. “This simple flame under this steel barrel works to keep water heated at all times. No need to boil for tea or dishwashing. This coil also feeds from the flame to this metal box and is ready for small things like reheating a meal for lunch or for toasting bread.
“And I’ve added springs to push the door open and the rack out once the desired temperature is reached. It triggers this bell and lets the person who is cooking it know it is done.”
Jessamine tipped at her hat in salute to her friend. “Very smart indeed.”
Mrs. Collins turned her attention to Jessamine. “Miss Keller, did you bring anything to display?”
Jessamine grin
ned in anticipation. Her heart raced as she thought of finally sharing what she had been working on. “Why yes, I did.”
Chapter 5
“Jessamine and her father have been invited to stay at the manor,” Tabitha told Gareth after dinner.
“What? And now I’m to listen to the two of you laugh at me all day and all night, too?” Gareth flew to the other side of his bedroom and looked out the balcony door. He always did that when he felt trapped.
“We don’t laugh at you.”
“I heard the two of you.”
“You heard us laugh but not at you. Really, you should know me better than that.”
Gareth eyed his young aunt. “I do know you. It’s her I don’t know.”
“Their staying here will remedy that.”
“I don’t wish it remedied. How will they stay? The house hasn’t held a guest in years. We only have Thompton and Sarah.”
“Lord Gerald has hired more staff for the visit. Besides, they’re American. They have no clue if what we do at dinner is proper or not.”
Gareth flew to his trunk and got out his suit of armor. “So we are going deeper into debt to impress ignorant Yanks? Wonderful. Go on to bed and let me dress. I’m going out.”
As she headed for the door, Tabitha shot him a hurt, slightly angry look.
It pierced Gareth in the heart, and he felt guilty for a moment, but the feeling fled the moment she closed the door. He’d have his freedom, even if just for now.
***
The next morning, servants carried in steamer trunks while Sarah directed everyone where to put things. Disgusted with what he saw in the foyer, Gareth retreated to his room. They never had house guests. And now, with the house fully staffed, how was he to fly about as he liked? He’d be stuck in the blasted chair for the whole visit.
Gareth took to flying back and forth in his room, pacing from wall to wall, and dreaded the week ahead with guests. A knock sounded at his door. He came down and settled himself in the wingchair. “Yes?”
Sarah entered. “A package just arrived fer ye, sir.”
She moved out of the way while her husband, Thompton, carried in a long wooden crate.
“Just place it on his bed, Sweeting,” she said, gesturing.
Gareth averted his eyes, pretending not to notice Sarah pat her husband’s behind. The two were always like that, touching and calling each other pet names. Thompton placed the long crate on the burgundy quilt, and it took up nearly the length of it from headboard to foot. A white pine box with hardly a mark on it, and no return address. Thompton nodded, took out a crowbar, and cracked open the top. He left the lid down and bowed in Gareth’s direction before turning to leave.
“Would ye like me to have Thompton bring up yer chair so you can get to yer package?”
“No, I can manage. Please close the door as you leave.”
Sarah nodded and curtsied before withdrawing.
The moment the door clicked shut, Gareth flew to the bed and lifted the lid of the crate. He pushed away packing straw to reveal a long sword. Gareth lifted the flat blade with an edge on both sides and inspected it. It was a Scottish claymore. The hilt was ornate, with the wooden handle carved to look like vines intertwined together. There was something familiar to Gareth about the look of the vines but he couldn’t think of what they reminded him.
Another knock came from his door.
Gareth sat on his bed, still holding and inspecting the sword. “Yes?”
Tabitha stuck her head around the door. “Can we come in?”
Before he could give an answer, she and Jessamine rushed into his room. Tabitha’s blue eyes grew large as she took in the claymore. “Where did you get that?”
Jessamine eyed the sword from top to bottom. “It’s beautiful.”
Mr. Strong, he thought. But without a return address, Gareth couldn’t be certain. Instead, he shook his head as he lifted it, still inspecting the blade. “I’m not sure where it came from. Sarah said it just arrived for me.”
Tabitha held out a big, floppy, floral hat. “We are off to my bonnet club. Should Lord Pensees or Mr. Keller ask, tell them we will not be late for dinner.”
He frowned. “Yes, I will tell them.”
Tabitha turned to go but Jessamine stepped closer, placing her hand on the hilt. “The vines are beautiful. I wonder if the Flying Knight wields a sword as grand as this.”
Her hand brushed against Gareth’s. He glanced over at her, taking in her knowing smile, one that made him question all she might know about him. Again he inhaled her scent. She was too close. It took all he had not to fly off the bed to the other side of the room and cower in a corner. He wasn’t accustomed to such an onrush feelings. Their newness made them more difficult to suppress. He would have to practice.
Jessamine smiled, and her large, brown eyes peered into his. “I look forward to dinner tonight with you and your family.”
With a nod, she walked out the door. Tabitha shut it behind them.
***
Jessamine leaned against the wall once in the hall. Her heart pounded in her ears. It was him; she knew it. The eyes were the same and held the same intensity she remembered.
“Jessie, are you all right?” Tabitha made her way to where Jessamine had propped herself and placed her hand on Jessamine’s forehead. “You seem unwell.”
Jessamine took a deep breath and then let it out. “I’m fine. Just excited. It’s finally going to happen. My father has spoken with Lord Pensees. It has all being arranged. I’m so glad you had this emergency bonnet club meeting called or I should have paced the floor of my room in anticipation.”
“We need to hurry. Mrs. Collins has just found out about a rally organized for suffragettes, by Emmeline Pankhurst. She is a member of one of our sister bonnet clubs. We are making banners and printing pamphlets today.”
Jessamine grabbed her friend’s shoulder. “Women are asking for the vote? How exciting. We don’t even have that in America. Let’s go.”
***
After knocking, Tabitha entered Gareth’s room around the same time she always did. Her blue, silk skirts rustled as she made her way to him. Gareth knew little of fashion, but it was obvious the dress was not with the current style. It had probably been made over at least three times now by Sarah and looked worn.
His loyal confidant. She had come to stand lookout for him, so he could fly downstairs to his chair before dinner. He no longer allowed a male servant to carry him back and forth.
“Lord Gerald wishes you join him in his study before dinner.”
Gareth frowned. “Does it not bother you to call him that?”
Tabitha plopped down into the wingchair. “He gave me the last name ‘Fitzgerald,’ so he acknowledges me that way. At least he didn’t send me to an orphanage, and he’s trying to secure my future. I assume all of that means he cares. He’s not as harsh as when we were younger. I think poverty and old age has broken his pride down a bit. He speaks highly of you and your dealings with the locals on your business rides together.”
“He does?” Gareth didn’t know that. He glanced out the door. “You’re sure your houseguest isn’t around? Or one of the other servants?”
“Mr. Keller is outside checking out the stables with Thompton. Sarah has tied up all the house servants with dining room and dinner preparation. Jessamine, on the other hand, is busy in my bonnet room at the moment, working on something quite extensive. When she sets her mind to something, she becomes quite absorbed. I promise it’s safe.”
“How interesting can a bunch of reworked hats be?”
Tabitha grinned. “Maybe one day I’ll show you some of my things. Jessamine’s very impressed with my skills. She’s even told her father.”
“I saw the hats you two brought back. They looked exactly the same way they did when you left. They always do.”
Tabitha only giggled. She opened the door, glided down the stairs in silence, and called out in a whisper, “All is clear.”
Garet
h flew down to his chair and took a seat. Tabitha wheeled him toward the study. She stepped around the chair to knock.
“Please be open to whatever he has to say. That’s all I ask.” She leaned in to kiss Gareth on the cheek and scooted away.
What was that about?
His grandfather’s deep voice boomed from behind the oak door. “Enter.”
Gareth swallowed hard, turned the knob, and pushed the door open to wheel himself in. His grandfather, Lord Gerald Smyth, Earl of Pensees, faced the fireplace, holding a glass of amber liquid.
At first the only sound was the crackle of the fire until Grandfather’s voice interrupted the silence. “Gareth, would you like something from the bar?”
“No, sir, but thank you.”
His grandfather turned to him, his face distraught. His color was that of paste, and the lines around his eyes had grown more pronounced. The old man’s brows furrowed and then released as if he’d just accepted whatever terrible thought had possessed him. It was a look he had often these days.
“I need to discuss Tabitha’s future with you. I know she’s as dear to you as she is to me, and you’ve always taken it upon yourself to look out for her. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I’ve admired that about you. Your father never thought of anyone but himself. I suppose your devotion must come from your mother’s side.” The old man looked away and took a quick gulp of his drink before he mumbled, “God knows you didn’t learn it from me.”
Gareth looked away and flared his nostrils in derision. Some devotion, to go and abandon her child.
His grandfather continued. “I’m counting on you to help me now. This isn’t what I wanted for Tabitha or for you, but there isn’t really any other choice.”
Gareth felt his forehead wrinkle. “Grandfather, I’m not sure what you are talking about.”
“We’re out of money. Your father died with gambling debts that I’ve been paying off for years. The lands don’t bring in the income they once did, and I’ve got nothing to offer a possible suitor to make him interested in Tabitha. I should have married her mother and then she would at least have a family connection. But no, I was too proud to marry a servant. I didn’t even know the depths of my feelings until they told me she’d died giving birth and handed me Tabitha.” His grandfather faced him with tears in his eyes and finished the dregs of his glass.
Armored Hearts Page 5