/> She pulled out the paper and pen from her valise and sat down at the desk. Reading, writing, and arithmetic. Those were the basics that she must teach, and the ages were five to fourteen. She should have asked the ages of the children to group them, but there was time enough for that. She made a diagram of circles and put the numbers five through fourteen in the circles.
The little ones would be grouped together, then the next oldest, and so on and so forth until the very oldest children were together. This way, she reasoned, each group should be learning at their own pace. She hoped this might be a start. Then she began to draw up a lesson plan for the coming weeks. As she worked, she felt a little bit surer of herself and the task at hand. Everything would be all right.
Elspeth Meacham opened the door to their large apartments on the third floor and entered quietly. She hung her bonnet up, and as she made her way into the large front parlor, her husband greeted her.
“What do you think?” he said as he turned the page of The Times.
Elspeth glanced at Cuthbert, who was immersed in his newspaper with a cup of tea at his elbow. “I don’t know. She seems quick and bright, and I’m surprised because you wouldn’t think it to look at her.”
“Wouldn’t think what, my dear?” her husband asked.
“Well, she must be Henry Ryland’s fancy woman. Else why would we be sent this inexperienced woman as a schoolmistress?”
Cuthbert shook his head. “Not likely, Elspeth. If that were true, he’d set her up with a house of her own and not force her to work in a workhouse of all places. If anything, you’d place someone here that you didn’t like. And force them to work like a drudge.”
Elspeth considered that. “Maybe. Maybe not. You’ve not seen her though, Cuthbert. She’s got a face like a perfect doll. I’d wager a month’s salary that Levi is already smitten.”
“Leave the lad alone,” Cuthbert told his wife.
“I’m sure of it. He was late back from the station picking her up. When I asked why, he said he wanted to show her the library.” She scoffed.
Cuthbert shrugged. “What of it?”
“Men are always turned by a pretty head.” She shook her own just thinking about it.
“Well, let’s just wait and see how her work is. Because at the end of it all, that’s all that matters,” Cuthbert said, quietly sipping his tea.
“I agree, husband, and you’re right. I just wonder… if there really is nothing between them, then why on earth did Henry Ryland insist on sending her to us?” She narrowed her eyes.
“It’s not for us to question a board guardian,” her husband said quietly yet sternly.
Elspeth said nothing more.
Henry Ryland pinched his nose to relieve the tension building. Most of his associates and clerks were already gone for the evening as he looked about the empty office. It had been a long day, and he welcomed the chance to return home. He checked the gaslights to make sure they were off before he locked the front door to his office.
He hailed a hansom cab and directed the driver to the address of his new home. When his newly built house came into view, he smiled. He had purchased the land specifically because it bordered the River Yare, and it was everything he imagined. He had originally built it to welcome a new bride to her new home, but that had not worked out as planned.
The house was made of red brick with white windows and an octagonal turret that greeted you as you turned into the drive. Henry had spent a lot of time looking for the perfect architect to create his dream home. He swelled with pride as he walked along the side of the grand home, passing the conservatory, until he came to the green lawn.
The lawn was freshly mowed, and the smell of wet grass was heavy in his nostrils. He walked past the sweeping lawn until he came to his favorite part of the property. It was the reason he had purchased the home. The serene, lovely River Yare. He smiled as he walked closer to it and took a moment to admire its beauty in the low setting sun.
He watched a pair of swans float by, enjoying the peacefulness of it all. He had named the estate Summons on Yare, a play on the legal phrase and the beautiful river. He turned to glance up at the large house behind him and saw his mother in the second-story window looking down at him. He waved at her, and she nodded back.
He took one long look at the river and then made his way back to the house, entering through a back door. He moved along the back parlor, past the conservatory, and into the formal dining room. He would prefer a small meal in the parlor, but his mother said no. They must keep up appearances for the staff.
Henry was not averse to having his wishes and desires known. But in these small issues, he allowed his mother full rein of the house. She ran it well, and he had no cause to complain. She saw to his needs as a mother should, and he was grateful. But he was also lonely, and it was the one subject he would not discuss with anyone.
“Henry, dear,” Theodocia said as he entered and kissed her cheek.
“Mother, good evening,” he said, taking the head of the table while she sat beside him.
He looked across at his mother. She was of average height with a trim figure and a kind face. Her brown hair was threaded with grey, but she was still an attractive woman. The footman poured them both a glass of red wine and then took a step back and waited to be called on.
His mother delicately placed her napkin in her lap. “Roasted pork and soup today.”
“Excellent,” he said as he helped himself to a dinner roll.
“You’re quite thin, Henry,” she told him. “You should eat more.”