Unfortunately, he had heard of liaisons taking place where the master of the house, or the young master, took advantage of his position, and the end result did not end well for the woman. He knew of a young parlor maid who had gotten with child, and the young master of the house had been the father. The child was not acknowledged, and she was let go without references.
In another case, a young governess had caught the eye of the old master of the house, and it had caused a scandal. The old master was in his seventies and the governess barely twenty-three. The young woman gave birth to the baby and was shipped off to the country. Three years later when the old man died, the entire family turned their back on the girl and the child.
Enoch shook his head and took another sip of his whiskey. These stories were fodder for gossip and were talked about over brandy and cigars, but he didn’t want that for Audrey. After he had spoken to her and she had asked for his help, a thought had come to him, which had prompted his trip to London.
He had gone to university with a fine man named Samuel Ryland. Samuel had studied the law, been very adept, and set up a law practice in Norwich in East Anglia. They had remained friends, though mostly through correspondence, and every so often saw each other when they were both in London.
Enoch had valued their friendship, and though the two men were in different fields and in different cities, they remained close. Samuel had one son, Henry. Henry had followed his father into the study of law and joined his practice when his schooling had finished. Together, father and son continued to build a successful law practice in Norwich.
Enoch had met Henry several times over the years and had watched him grow into a mature, serious young man. When he had last spoken to Samuel, Henry had purchased land and was building a six-bedroom home on the bank of the River Yare. Samuel had said a young woman had caught his son’s eye and that he thought a wedding was on the horizon.
Besides the law practice, Henry had been elected to the Board of Governors. He oversaw the operation and business of the Poor Law Union, and he specifically worked with the Bowthorpe Road Workhouse in Norwich.
Samuel had often bragged about his only son. Henry wanted to better the lives of people in the workhouses by making sure they were treated fairly and humanely. Sadly, a year ago, Samuel had caught a chill and died soon after of pneumonia. Enoch had been saddened by the loss.
It had been his friendship with Samuel and his son, Henry, that had prompted his writing to the young man on a whim. He thought Henry might be able to offer Audrey a position in the workhouse or might know of others who were looking for a suitable, respectable woman. He had not mentioned Audrey in his letter as she had no experience, and he wanted to plead her case in person.
If he could see and speak to Henry Ryland in person, he knew he could convince him Audrey was worth the effort. Suddenly, he saw the steward showing a young man to the room and pointing at him.
He stood and greeted the man. “Henry, my boy!” he said, giving him a friendly handshake.
Henry addressed the man in return. “Enoch, it’s been some time.”
“Please. Have a seat.” He gestured to the chair across from him.
“Thank you.” Henry took the indicated chair.
“What are you drinking?” Enoch asked.
“I’ll have a whiskey.”
“Good man.” He ordered the drink from the steward, who then disappeared to fetch it. He looked over Henry Ryland and nodded to himself. He was a good-looking man with wavy brown hair and warm brown eyes. He was tall and wore a tailored sack suit with a wingtip collar and tie. The suit was well-made, and the length of the jacket and vest bespoke the fact that he was middle class or slightly above.
Henry crossed one leg over his knee. “I was pleased to receive your letter. My mother asked me to send her kind regards.”
“Dearest Theodocia. How is she? I’m sure your father’s death has not been easy. In fact, come to think of it, that’s the last time I saw you both. At the funeral.”
“I believe you’re right,” Henry agreed. “Mother is well. She keeps busy with her charity work.”
“She was always busy as I recall,” Enoch recalled. “She really was a lovely woman. Samuel used to say if we wanted to have the world run right, we should leave it to your mother.”
“She is a force,” Henry agreed and accepted the drink from the steward.
For several long moments, silence stretched between them. The crackling from the fireplace nearby was the only sound.
Henry spoke first. “You’ll forgive me, Enoch, but your letter was a bit vague so I’m unsure as to the purpose of our meeting.”
Enoch cleared his throat. “I didn’t want you to dismiss my letter outright before we had a chance to speak. I know you said the journey to London was already planned so I wasn’t putting you out. Nevertheless, I appreciate you seeing me.”
Henry leaned back in his seat. “Now you’ve piqued my interest. I’m intrigued. What do you wish to ask of me?”
“Do you still sit on the Board of Guardians, Henry?” Enoch asked as he took up his pipe.
“I do. I find the work there very important. I’ve been fortunate to have been elected several times over. We are elected annually,” he explained.
“Your father mentioned you oversee the Bowthorpe Road Workhouse,” he said.
“That’s right.” He nodded.