Page 26

T he morning room at Linford Park glowed with autumn sunshine, dust motes dancing in the golden beams that streamed through the tall windows.

The ladies had gathered with their needlework and correspondence while most of the gentlemen had departed for a morning's hunt.

Meredith sat near the window, a volume of Mary Wollstonecraft's "Vindication of the Rights of Woman" open on her lap—a deliberately provocative choice, perhaps, but one she felt necessary after days of carefully moderating her opinions.

Faith joined her, settling into a nearby chair with her embroidery hoop.

"You seem pensive this morning," she observed quietly. "Is all well?"

"Merely thoughtful," Meredith replied, though in truth, her mind had been in turmoil since Townsend had renewed his offers of support for her school at breakfast, with even more effusive compliments than before. "Mr. Townsend has been most persistent in his interest in my educational project."

"And in you," Faith added with a meaningful glance. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Though I confess, Merry, I find his sudden philanthropic enthusiasm somewhat convenient. He's never shown interest in charitable works before, at least not that I've observed."

"I had reached a similar conclusion," Meredith admitted. "Yet I can hardly afford to dismiss potential funding, regardless of its source or motivation."

Faith's needle flashed in the sunlight as she worked a delicate rose pattern onto the handkerchief stretched in her hoop.

"And what of Lord Sutcliffe? He seemed quite supportive of your ideas until Lady Hurst arrived.

Now he maintains a polite distance, except when Townsend's attentions become too forward. "

Meredith's fingers tightened on her book. "Lord Sutcliffe's interest was always more theoretical than practical, I think. Family loyalty is a powerful force."

"As is family pressure," Faith agreed with a sigh. "Though I had thought him more resolute in his convictions."

Before Meredith could respond, the door opened to admit several gentlemen returning early from the hunt—Lord Sutcliffe among them, she noted with a quickening pulse she tried to ignore.

His tall figure cut an impressive silhouette in his riding attire, the forest green coat emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders.

She quickly looked away, focusing determinedly on her book.

"Ladies, forgive our intrusion," Lord Thornfield said as the men entered. "The rain has driven us inside earlier than anticipated."

"Not an intrusion at all," Lady Thornfield assured her husband. "We were just about to ring for tea."

As the company rearranged themselves to accommodate the new arrivals, Meredith remained by the window, grateful for the momentary invisibility afforded by the general shuffling.

She was in no mood for social niceties, particularly with Chilton present.

His inconsistent behaviour—one moment defending her ideas, the next retreating into formal distance—left her feeling increasingly unsettled.

"Miss Martin, what a delightful surprise!"

Meredith looked up to find Townsend approaching, his hunting clothes immaculate despite the morning's activity. Unlike the other gentlemen, whose attire showed signs of genuine exertion, Townsend appeared to have dressed for the portrait of a sportsman rather than the sport itself.

"I had thought you would be occupied until luncheon," she said, her tone neutral as she marked her place in her book.

"The weather conspired to bring me back to your company," he replied with a smile that was clearly meant to be charming.

His gaze fell to the volume in her lap, and his expression shifted to one of surprise. "Wollstonecraft? My, what revolutionary reading for a morning room."

"Her arguments regarding female education are particularly relevant to my work," Meredith replied, bracing herself for the dismissal that typically followed any mention of the controversial author.

Townsend glanced around as if to ensure they weren't overheard, though his next words were pitched to carry to the nearby seats.

"I find her politics somewhat extreme, of course, but her writing has a certain.

.. passionate quality that appeals to the literary mind.

I've quite an extensive collection of philosophical works at my estate.

Perhaps you might visit to examine them sometime. "

The impropriety of such a suggestion, however carefully phrased, brought a flush to Meredith's cheeks.

"I prefer to conduct my research in proper libraries, Mr. Townsend," she said with deliberate coolness.

From across the room, she was aware of Chilton watching their exchange, his expression unreadable as he conversed with Lord Beaverbrook. Had he heard Townsend's inappropriate invitation? Did he care if he had?

"Ah, yes, libraries," Townsend continued, undeterred. "Essential for intellectual pursuit, though I find institutional collections often lack the more progressive texts that truly stimulate the mind. My private library has no such limitations."

"How fortunate for your intellectual stimulation," Meredith replied dryly. "Though I imagine Wollstonecraft's views on female education would challenge even your progressive tastes."

"Not at all," Townsend declared with breezy confidence. "I'm quite the advocate for female accomplishment. Music, painting, modern languages—all enhance a woman's natural charms."

"You misunderstand Wollstonecraft entirely, then," Meredith said, unable to keep the edge from her voice. "She argues for substantive education that develops reason and character, not merely ornamental skills to make women more pleasing to men."

Townsend's smile remained fixed, though his eyes narrowed slightly. "A charming idealism, though somewhat impractical. After all, a woman's primary sphere is the home, is it not? Her education should prepare her for that essential role."

"And you believe reading and arithmetic are unnecessary for household management?" Meredith challenged, her fingers gripping her book more tightly. "Or perhaps you think women's minds incapable of more rigorous subjects?"

"Not incapable, certainly," Townsend backpedalled, aware they were drawing attention. "Merely better suited to different areas of expertise. The female mind has its particular strengths—intuition, sensitivity, moral refinement. Why force it into channels better left to masculine intellect?"

By now, several nearby conversations had quieted as guests observed their increasingly heated exchange. Meredith was conscious of creating a scene, but Townsend's smug certainty had struck a nerve too sensitive to ignore.

"And who decided these 'channels' of intellect should be divided by gender rather than individual aptitude?

" she asked, her voice steady despite her rising indignation.

"My father's female students often outperformed their male counterparts in mathematics and natural philosophy, when given equal opportunity to study. "

"Exceptional cases, no doubt," Townsend said with a dismissive wave.

"Though one must wonder if such intensive study is truly in women's best interest. Medical authorities have documented the dangers of excessive intellectual strain on the female constitution.

Nervous disorders, hysteria, even infertility can result from overtaxing the feminine mind. "

A tense silence fell over the room. Even those who had been pretending not to listen now watched openly, the social transgression of such topics in mixed company heightening the drama of the moment.

"Medical authorities once believed bloodletting cured the plague," Meredith replied, fighting to keep her voice level. "Ignorance masquerading as expertise has a long and unfortunate history, particularly when it serves to maintain convenient power structures."

Townsend's veneer of amiability cracked slightly, revealing a flash of genuine annoyance.

"You speak as if education were some universal right, rather than a privilege bestowed according to one's station and capacity.

Surely you recognize that Society functions best when each person fulfils their natural role without aspiring beyond it? "

"Natural role?" Meredith echoed, setting aside her book as she rose to her feet.

Something had broken within her—a dam of restraint she had maintained throughout the gathering, storing away slights and dismissals until they could no longer be contained.

"Was it my natural role to watch my mother struggle to manage our household accounts after my father's death because she had never been taught mathematics?

Was it the natural role of our housekeeper's brilliant daughter to scrub floors when her mind could have contributed to science or medicine? "

The rawness in her voice silenced even the whispered commentary that had begun around the edges of the room. Meredith was dimly aware of Faith half-rising from her seat, concern evident in her expression, but she continued, weeks of accumulated frustration finding voice at last.

"Education isn't merely about books or abstract theory, Mr. Townsend.

It's about dignity and opportunity. About a mother being able to read to her child or a labourer understanding when he's being cheated of his wages.

I've seen what happens when bright minds are denied light—the waste of potential, the unnecessary hardship, the dimming of spirits that might have shone. "

Her voice had begun to tremble slightly, emotion threatening to overwhelm her carefully cultivated composure. She took a steadying breath, aware that she had revealed far more of her personal convictions than propriety allowed.

"Forgive me," she said, addressing the room at large rather than Townsend alone. "I speak with perhaps more passion than is suitable for a morning gathering."