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"The blue coat will do very well," Chilton conceded. "Though I hardly think my attire will significantly alter any impressions at this point."

"Perhaps not, my lord," Jenkins agreed. "Though one never knows when an opportunity for a fresh start might present itself."

The comment lingered in Chilton's mind as he completed his preparations. A fresh start with Meredith Martin—the idea was more appealing than he cared to admit. Their conversation in the rose garden had suggested possibilities that their previous interactions had not.

As he made his way downstairs, Chilton found himself scanning the assembled company for a glimpse of Meredith. She entered just as the dinner announcement was made, wearing a gown of pale blue silk that complemented her complexion and brought out the striking colour of her eyes.

Their gazes met briefly across the room, and Chilton was surprised to see a fleeting smile touch her lips before she turned to take Dr. Welby's arm.

The small gesture should not have affected him as strongly as it did, yet Chilton found himself unreasonably pleased as he offered his arm to Lady Evangeline.

The table had been laid with impressive formality—fine porcelain, heavy silver that gleamed in the candlelight, and crystal that rang like bells when touched.

It was a display of wealth and status that Chilton had experienced many times before, yet tonight he found himself viewing it with fresh eyes.

What would the studious Miss Martin make of such ostentatious luxury? he wondered. Would she see it as an extravagant waste when so many lacked basic necessities? Or would she appreciate the beauty and artistry represented in the craftsmanship?

"You seem pensive tonight, Lord Sutcliffe," Lady Evangeline observed as the first course was served. "Has something from today's conversations continued to occupy your thoughts?"

"Several things, in fact." Chilton smiled. "Miss Martin's educational theories have proven more thought-provoking than I initially expected."

"I thought they might," she replied with a knowing smile. "Particularly as they challenge some of the assumptions that those in our position often take for granted."

"You support her ideas, then?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"I support questioning the status quo," Lady Evangeline said carefully. "Not for the sake of disruption, but because progress requires us to occasionally examine whether our traditions continue to serve their intended purpose."

Throughout the meal, Chilton found his attention repeatedly drawn to Meredith, seated diagonally across from him.

She appeared engaged in animated conversation with Dr. Welby, her expression alight with intelligence and enthusiasm.

Even in this setting, where wealth and title held such sway, her natural vivacity and sharp mind made her a compelling presence.

Once, catching him watching her, she raised her eyebrows slightly in silent inquiry. Chilton merely smiled in response, a gesture that seemed to both puzzle and intrigue her before she returned to her conversation.

Chilton found himself engaging more actively than the previous night, offering observations about estate management that drew interested responses from several guests.

When Mr. Smythe mentioned difficulties with water management on his wife’s lands, Chilton described the drainage system he had implemented at Sutcliffe, drawing on both traditional knowledge and newer techniques.

"That's exactly the kind of practical application we've been advocating at the Technical Institute," Miss Martin said suddenly, joining the conversation from her position down the table. "Theory informing practice, with adjustments based on observed results."

"Precisely," Chilton agreed, pleased by her recognition. "Though I confess the initial theory came from a rather dusty agricultural treatise in my grandfather's library, rather than formal scientific study."

"Knowledge is knowledge, regardless of its source," she replied with a small smile. "The question is how effectively it can be applied to solve real problems."

The exchange was brief, interrupted by Lady Thornfield signalling for the ladies to withdraw, yet it left Chilton with a sense of having bridged some portion of the gap that had separated them upon her arrival.

As the gentlemen settled with their port, the conversation turned to politics and economic concerns. Jasper's father expressed conventional conservative views about maintaining social order, while some of the younger men advocated for more progressive approaches.

"The conditions in the northern manufacturing towns are simply untenable," Captain Peters declared. "Children as young as six working fourteen-hour days in conditions that would shock anyone in this room."

"Regrettable, certainly," the Marquess conceded, "but one must be cautious about disrupting established systems. Industry requires labour, and families require income. Too much interference could damage both."

"Surely basic education and humane treatment need not disrupt industry," Chilton found himself saying, surprised by his own contribution. "An educated workforce might even prove more productive and innovative in the long term."

Several heads turned toward him with varying expressions of surprise. The Marquess's eyebrows rose fractionally.

"An interesting perspective, Sutcliffe. Though my mill managers report that educated workers are more likely to question instructions and demand better conditions—hardly conducive to efficient operations."

"Perhaps," Chilton suggested diplomatically, "the key lies in aligning the interests of all parties. Education that enhances productivity while also improving living conditions might benefit both workers and owners."

It was a moderate position that seemed to satisfy most present, though Chilton caught a speculative glance from Jasper that suggested the other man had observed more than was openly discussed.

In the drawing room, Miss Martin stood slightly apart, examining a collection of miniature portraits. Her profile in the candlelight struck Chilton as particularly elegant. As if sensing his regard, she turned, meeting his gaze directly.

After a moment's hesitation, Chilton approached her. "The Whitmore ancestral collection. Some quite valuable pieces among them."

"I was more interested in the artistic technique than the lineage," she replied, indicating a small oval portrait of a lady in Elizabethan dress. "The brushwork on this one is particularly fine."

"Lady Elizabeth Whitmore," Chilton identified. "Rumoured to have been a confidante of Queen Elizabeth herself."

"To have been a woman of influence in such a male-dominated era—she must have been remarkable."

"The Whitmore women generally are," Chilton observed. "Though I wonder if Lady Elizabeth would approve of the current direction of the family, particularly regarding Jasper's choice of bride."

Miss Martin glanced toward her friend who sat at the pianoforte. "Because Faith isn't of noble birth?"

"Precisely. The Marquess has been... tolerant, rather than enthusiastic. Though Jasper is a third son, so the dynastic considerations are less pressing."

"How fortunate for them," Miss Martin said dryly. "That love need only overcome mild disapproval rather than outright opposition."

The comment held a note of personal feeling that caught Chilton's attention. "You sound as if you speak from experience."

Her expression shuttered slightly. "Let's just say I understand the challenges of navigating social expectations that conflict with personal inclinations."

Before Chilton could inquire further, Mr. Townsend approached with an exaggerated bow.

"Miss Martin, I've been hoping to speak with you about your educational project. My late aunt's charitable foundation might be interested in supporting such worthy endeavours."

The mention of financial support caught Meredith's attention, though she maintained a certain reserve. "How kind of you to take an interest. I would be happy to discuss the project in more detail."

"Excellent!" Townsend beamed, casting a triumphant glance at Chilton. "Perhaps we might take a turn about the room?"

Chilton stepped back with a polite nod, acknowledging Townsend's right to engage Miss Martin in conversation.

As they moved away, Chilton found himself watching their progress with an attention that bordered on inappropriate.

Townsend's manner was excessively solicitous, while Meredith maintained a polite but noticeable distance.

She clearly hadn't succumbed to Townsend's obvious personal interest.

The observation shouldn't have pleased him as much as it did.

"He's quite taken with her, isn't he?" Lady Beaverbrook observed, appearing at Chilton's side. "Though I'm not entirely convinced of the sincerity of his interest in educational reform."

"No?" Chilton replied, keeping his tone neutral despite his agreement.

"Mr. Townsend strikes me as a man whose charitable inclinations are directly proportional to the personal advantages they might yield," she said dryly. "A common trait, though somewhat disappointing in one so well-positioned to do genuine good."

The assessment aligned so perfectly with Chilton's impressions that he found himself nodding before adopting a more diplomatic posture. "A cynical view, perhaps, though not without supporting evidence."

Lady Beaverbrook's lips curved in a knowing smile. "I find that experience brings the advantage of seeing patterns more clearly. Just as I observe that your own interest in Miss Martin appears to have evolved considerably since yesterday."

The observation caught him off guard.

"Miss Martin is an intelligent and principled young woman whose ideas deserve serious consideration," he said carefully.

"Indeed, she is," Lady Beaverbrook agreed. "And rare to find such qualities combined with genuine kindness and absence of artifice. A valuable combination in any sphere—but particularly in a partnership."

The implication was unmistakable, and Chilton felt heat rise in his cheeks despite his composure. "Lady Beaverbrook, I—"

"Need not respond to observations that have not yet crystallized into certainty," she finished for him, patting his arm with friendly affection.

"But do consider that some opportunities are worth pursuing despite conventional expectations.

My Ellis would never have achieved his chemical discoveries had he adhered strictly to traditional methods. "

With that cryptic parallel, she drifted away, leaving Chilton to contemplate her words.

As the company began to disperse, Chilton found himself lingering, hoping for one more opportunity to speak with Miss Martin. The chance came as she made her way toward the door.

"Miss Martin," he said, approaching with a formal bow. "I hope your first day at Linford Park has been enjoyable."

"Most illuminating," she replied with a small smile that suggested she referred to more than merely the day's activities. "Though I confess I'm looking forward to rest after the rigors of travel."

"Of course," he nodded. "Though perhaps tomorrow, if your schedule permits, we might continue our conversation about educational approaches? I find I have more questions after reflecting on our earlier discussion."

Something like surprise flickered in her eyes, followed by a warmth that transformed her expression. "I would welcome that, Lord Sutcliffe. Perhaps after breakfast?"

"Perfect," he agreed, unreasonably pleased by her ready acceptance. "Until tomorrow, then. Sleep well, Miss Martin."

"And you, my lord."

Their exchange had been brief, entirely proper, and witnessed by several departing guests.

Yet as Chilton made his way up the grand staircase, he could not shake the feeling that something significant had shifted between them—a tentative bridge across what had seemed an unbridgeable gulf of background, perspective, and social position.

Whether that bridge would prove sturdy enough to bear the weight of further connection remained to be seen. But for the first time since encountering Meredith Martin at the coaching inn, Chilton found himself genuinely looking forward to the possibilities that tomorrow might bring.