“And have the women and children housed along with working men? No,” Helena said. “Besides, we need the space. We have a list of fifty women and children who can move in as soon as it’s ready. I have no doubt that by the end of winter we’ll have a hundred more. There won’t be room for all of them if we have to share with his workers.”
Maxwell’s brows drew together. “She’s right. It will never work. You’ll have to choose.”
“Unless someone withdraws,” she said, sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest. Her meaning was clear. “Then, yes, Sir Phineas will have to choose.”
“I don’t see why either one of us would want to withdraw,” Maxwell said.
“Because one of us can find somewhere else easily.”
“It’s not easy to find warehouse space, factory space, all within a distance that makes production cost-effective.”
“Well, neither is it easy to pluck one hundred and fifty women and children from the only homes they have ever known and move them to a completely different city. In fact, most would balk at such a plan and refuse to leave. Then we’d be right back where we started with women and children living in reprehensible circumstances.”
“They will be better for it if they are moved,” he said.
“The point is to help them, not to save them, Mr. Crenshaw. You can’t simply pick someone up, shake them off, and say, ‘Here, go do this or that.’ It doesn’t work that way. Our mission is to assist them by providing access to housing and safety. We then give them the tools they can utilize to make their lives manageable going forward. They are not pawns or nameless beneficiaries of charity. They come to us for help and we build their trust in us, and only then can we provide them opportunities for education and training.”
“Yes, but my plan will provide necessary jobs.”
“Right, it will, and that is all very good. But how many of those jobs will be for women? How many women are employed across your factories, Mr. Crenshaw?”
“That isn’t fair,” he said.
“No, it’s not fair, but neither is it fair that these women have no system of support. That is why it is so important that people who can help, people like the good Sir Phineas here, be allowed to offer aid when they can. Employing more men will not help the women and children in my care.”
His jaw was tense, and silence spread throughout the room. “You know that August needs this property,” he finally said through gritted teeth. “You know what’s at stake for her.”
“Now that isn’t fair.”
How could he stoop so low? Was she supposed to put the lives of the women and children in her care aside to aid his sister?
“None of this is fair, Helena. I believe we’ve established that. The fact is that August will be crushed beyond what is fair if you impede this purchase.”
Guilt tore through her in a terrible wave, causing her stomach to churn in protest and her throat to tighten.
Rushing to her feet, she said, “This has been a lovely evening, Sir Phineas. I appreciate meeting you.”
Both men hurried to their feet. Maxwell grimaced as if struck silent by the shock of his own words, so that Sir Phineas spoke first. “Must you leave already, Lady Helena?”
“I’m terribly sorry, but I have said all that I can on the matter. Please consider how badly the London Home for Young Women needs this.”
She waited only a moment to lock eyes with Maxwell; his gaze was already filling with regret, but it was too late. Whirling, she hurried to the front hall, grabbing her cape before the butler could offer it to her. He barely managed to open the front door before she got there. Rain fell still, but she didn’t let it stop her from hastening toward where her carriage waited down the street.
“Helena!” Maxwell’s voice followed her down the front steps, but she did not dare look back. “Wait!”
Her driver was caught unaware and fumbled with the umbrella as he hurried toward her.
“There’s no need,” she said, waving off his attempt. “Please get me home as quickly as possible.”
“Yes, milady,” he said, opening the carriage door and helping her inside.
She had completely and utterly failed at her task and ruined the whole night. How would she ever face the women and children who needed her? How would she face the board? She blinked back the tears that welled in her eyes, but the ache in her throat still lingered.
The fact that Maxwell had contributed to her loss made her feel the sting all the more. It was like a knife twisting in the wound. What did this mean for them?
Chapter 14
Genuine learning has ever been said to give polish to man; why then should it not bestow added charm on women?
Emma Willard
An hour later, Helena sat in her drawing room attempting to read. She’d been on the same page for almost a quarter of an hour, but at least it was something. It kept her from sulking. Sort of. Her mind kept going over the disastrous evening, churning over it as if to relive it would help to change what had happened, no matter how she tried to pay attention to the words on the page. Finally, she closed the book with a huff and stared at the fire crackling in the hearth.
After she had come home, she had changed out of her wet clothes and into her nightdress and dressing gown. Then she had sent the Huxleys to bed. There was no need for them to stay up and keep her company. Only now that she was alone, she rather wished she had taken up Mrs. Huxley on her offer to play a round of cards. Doing something would be better than sitting here and stewing. Despite how badly she felt about the lost opportunity for the charity, she couldn’t deny that some of her moroseness was because she felt that she had lost Maxwell, too. Not that she had ever had him.
Groaning in frustration and residual anger at him, she walked to the hearth and used the fire poker to move a log around, sending sparks skittering. She had been terribly rude to him. He hadn’t been fair himself, but that didn’t excuse her own reaction. She’d probably have to jot down a note to send over to him tomorrow. He’d reply back in clipped prose. Then she wouldn’t see him again until he made an appearance at Claremont Hall. She would still need to carry out the charade. She might have lost the priory, but she still needed her father on her side to maintain their funding and find a new building. She and Maxwell would continue their little performance for their families, and then he would leave. This was exactly how their little drama was meant to play out, so why did she feel so bereft and lonely?
It was because she felt abandoned by him. All this time she had felt that he understood her, that he would support her, only to have her worst fears about him confirmed. He had turned his back on her the moment he had needed to in order to further his own ends. But that wasn’t completely fair. He was doing this for August, not his own personal interest. And yet, she felt that August would be on her side in this. Guilt, anger, and heartache twisted into such a tight knot in her stomach that she couldn’t tell one thread from the other.