Page 49

T he morning light in London cast long shadows across Chilton's bedchamber as he rose earlier than usual, a sense of purpose energizing him despite the previous evening's late conclusion.

Today would be his final opportunity to speak with Meredith before her return to Oxford, and he was determined to make it count.

"Shall I prepare the blue coat again, my lord?" Jenkins inquired as he entered with hot water for shaving.

"The green, I think," Chilton replied, surprising his valet with the departure from their established routine. "And have the portfolio of educational plans ready. I'll be calling on Miss Martin at ten."

"Very good, my lord."

As Chilton prepared for the day, he found his thoughts unusually focused.

The gradual development of his feelings for Meredith had crystallized during the night into something both simple and profound—he could no longer imagine pursuing his educational initiatives, or indeed any meaningful future, without her partnership.

The question that remained was whether she might consider a future that included him.

By half past nine, he was already in his carriage, the nervousness he felt at odds with his usual composed demeanour. The leather portfolio containing his educational plans rested on the seat beside him, representing not just a school proposal but a vision for a shared future.

Lady Hartford's butler received him with perfect formality, showing neither surprise nor speculation at this second consecutive visit, though Chilton suspected the household staff had already formed their own conclusions.

"Lord Sutcliffe," the man intoned, "If you would be so kind as to wait in the small drawing room, I shall inform Miss Martin of your arrival."

The drawing room was an elegant space of modest proportions, tastefully furnished without ostentation.

Chilton found himself pacing its length, uncharacteristically restless as he awaited Meredith's appearance.

When the door finally opened, he turned so quickly that he nearly upset a delicate porcelain figurine on a nearby table.

Meredith stood in the doorway, wearing a morning dress of pale blue that complemented her complexion perfectly. Her expression was composed but held a hint of curiosity about this visit that she had accepted but perhaps not fully anticipated.

"Lord Sutcliffe," she greeted him, her voice steady despite the slight colour in her cheeks. "You're most punctual."

"Chilton, please," he reminded her, moving forward to take her offered hand. "At least when we're speaking privately."

"Chilton, then," she amended with a small smile. "Though I should warn you that my mother is in an adjacent room, undoubtedly straining to hear every word despite my explicit request for privacy."

The candid observation drew a genuine laugh from him, easing some of the tension that had built within his chest. "Then perhaps we should provide her something worthwhile for her efforts?"

Meredith's eyebrows rose slightly. "That depends entirely on what you had in mind, my lord."

"Nothing improper, I assure you," Chilton said, gesturing toward the small settee by the window. "Though perhaps something unexpected."

As they seated themselves, Chilton placed the portfolio on the small table between them.

"I've brought the revised educational plan for Sutcliffe," he began, opening the leather case to reveal the neatly written documents. "It incorporates the suggestions from our last gathering, particularly regarding assessment methods and teacher qualifications."

"I'm glad to hear it," Meredith said, leaning forward with genuine interest to examine the papers. "The integration of regular evaluations regardless of location should address the concern about creating a two-tiered system."

"Indeed," Chilton agreed, watching her face as she studied his work. "And you'll note that the curriculum extends beyond basic literacy and numeracy to include natural sciences and geography, with no distinction between subjects available to boys versus girls."

Meredith's expression warmed as she read through the details. "This is most impressive, Chilton. You've created a truly comprehensive approach that balances practical needs with genuine educational opportunity."

"I had excellent inspiration," he replied, gathering his courage for what would come next. "Which brings me to the true purpose of my visit today."

She looked up from the papers, her eyes meeting his with a questioning glance.

"Meredith," he began, her name feeling right on his lips despite its informality, "these plans represent more than just an educational initiative for Sutcliffe. They represent a transformation in my understanding of responsibility and purpose—a transformation for which I have you to thank."

"You give me too much credit," she demurred, though her expression suggested his words had touched her. "The potential for such understanding was already within you."

"Perhaps," Chilton acknowledged, "but it might have remained dormant without your challenging questions and unwavering principles. You've changed me, Meredith—not by persuasion or manipulation, but by the simple power of your conviction and the clarity of your vision."

He paused, searching for words that would convey the depth of his meaning without overwhelming her.

"When I first proposed this school, it was primarily an intellectual exercise—a worthy endeavour, certainly, but somewhat abstract.

Now I see the faces of Mary Williams and countless children like her, minds hungering for knowledge that might otherwise be denied them. "

"That's precisely why our work matters," Meredith said softly. "Not as philosophical theory but as transformation of real lives."

"Our work," Chilton repeated, seizing the opening her words had provided. "That's what I've come to propose, Meredith. Not merely parallel efforts in separate spheres, but a true partnership."

Her expression grew cautious, though not unwelcoming. "What kind of partnership do you envision?"

Chilton took a deep breath, knowing that his next words would irrevocably alter the nature of their relationship, for better or worse.

"One that encompasses both our educational endeavours and our personal lives," he said simply. "I had thought to visit Oxford first, to see your school in operation, to understand more completely the work you've undertaken there. But I find I cannot wait."

He reached for her hand, relieved when she did not withdraw it from his grasp.

"I've come to believe that the most meaningful change occurs when minds and hearts work in harmony.

You have shown me that education without compassion is hollow, that principle without action is merely philosophy.

And in doing so, you've awakened something in me that I cannot—and do not wish to—ignore. "

Meredith's eyes widened slightly, her composure momentarily shaken. "Chilton, are you—"

"Suggesting that we might build a future together? Yes," he confirmed, his voice steadier than he had expected. "Not as baron and bluestocking, those roles that Society would assign us, but as two people committed to creating meaningful change while finding personal happiness."

He gestured toward the educational plans between them.

"This school at Sutcliffe is only the beginning.

I envision a broader initiative—a trust, perhaps, dedicated to establishing similar opportunities wherever they're needed.

Your school in Oxford would be the first beneficiary, with guaranteed funding and expanded facilities. "

Meredith's expression reflected surprise and a hint of scepticism.

"That's a remarkably generous offer, but surely you understand my concern. I've worked too long for educational reform to see it compromised, even for—" She paused, seemingly hesitant to name what might exist between them.

"Even for personal happiness?" Chilton completed her thought gently. "I would never ask you to choose between your principles and your heart, Meredith. That's precisely why I'm proposing partnership rather than conventional marriage."

He reached into his coat pocket, withdrawing a small document folded with careful precision.

"This is a draft charter for what I'm calling the Sutcliffe Educational Trust. You'll note that administrative control is vested equally in both trustees—yourself and me—with neither having authority to overrule the other. "

Meredith accepted the document with obvious surprise, her eyes scanning the contents with the swift comprehension he had come to admire. "This is...unexpected," she said finally, looking up at him with an expression that suggested she was reassessing everything she had assumed about his intentions.

"I've learned that the most meaningful relationships are those based on equality and mutual respect," Chilton said simply. "I admire your mind, your principles, your courage in pursuing what you believe is right. Why would I seek to diminish those qualities rather than honour them?"

Meredith fell silent, studying the document once more, her expression thoughtful. "And the personal aspect of this partnership?" she asked finally, her direct gaze meeting his. "What form would that take?"

The question was characteristic of her—straightforward, without pretence or coy evasion. Chilton found himself smiling despite the seriousness of the moment.

"The conventional one, I hope," he admitted. "Marriage, a shared life between Sutcliffe and Oxford, dividing our time between educational work and personal connection. But with unconventional understandings about autonomy and purpose."

He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping though they were alone in the room.

"I don't wish to own you, Meredith, or to confine your extraordinary mind within the narrow boundaries Society might prescribe.

I wish to build something meaningful with you—a partnership that enhances rather than diminishes what makes you uniquely yourself. "