Page 24 of Baron in Check
Marrying Hermy would mean he’d ascend to Earldom, just one step below a Marquess. An Earl had a right to sit in the House of Lords, the upper chamber of Parliament, a privilege Greg dreaded because his cause wouldn’t change and the disapproval he met in Parliament would be amplified. He’d fight for equality, for the rights of Jews, for a meritocracy in England where any citizen could earn acclaim, whether they were born into it or not. Greg felt the weight of his Barony and the importance of making the most of the privilege he already had.
How to accomplish that eluded him, but he had responsibility and wouldn’t shy away from it. If he became Earl, he’d have even more responsibility.
His heart hammered against his chest as he ran faster off the trails in the park and onto the dew-soaked grass. His pulse became a rhythmic counterpart to the questions that raced through his mind, each beat a reminder of the stakes at play. As he darted past an ancient oak, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled patterns on the path ahead, a fleeting taste of clarity in the uncertainty of dawn.
When he reached the Pearlers’ tall white house, he wondered for the first time in his life whether it was right to just storm in. The windows on the top floor were on, and shadows swept through the room. Fave and Arnold were fencing. Perhaps Caleb was training in kung fu. Greg wanted to be with them, so he rapped on the door.
The door opened in less than ten seconds.
“Good morning, James,” Greg said to the butler whom he’d known since he was a little boy.
Even though the older man usually kept a facade as stiff as a Venetian mask, he always had a smile for Greg when he arrived for training in the early morning hours. “They’re upstairs. I also served tea and hot muffins. There’s a cup and a plate for you.” No milord, no your grace. Here at the Pearlers, whenthe inhabitants were with each other, everyone knew their role without the need for formality to push the servants down in rank and the master up. Here, as Greg stepped across the doorstep into the Pearlers’ world, everyone had a respected role. In this working order, the servants as well as the masters drew from a mutual reliance that fueled the dynamic. Society ought to be this way outside of this house, too. Why didn’t it work?
Greg pulled off his muddy boots. “Thank you ever so much, James. I cannot wait.”
James reached for them, his back cracking in an unhealthy way. “I’ll polish these for you.”
Greg held his boots back. “I got off the pebbled track this morning and my boots are soiled with mud and grass.” Both men stared at the mess. “I’ll carry them to the back and wash them. Would you kindly let me know when they are dry, please?”
James blinked and Greg could swear that the pallor gave way to a tint of pink. It was offensive to refuse a servant’s service, especially the high-ranking butler. And Greg was a guest, which made it even more of an insult.
But if the world were not so distorted by ranks and society’s conventions, they were just two men, standing in the foyer in the early morning. The elder was dressed in a starched shirt, white cravat, and elegant tails, while the younger wore breeches, a sweaty linen shirt, and needed to burn his energy. It made no sense to hand the dirty boots to the older man where Greg was perfectly capable of cleaning up his own mess.
“James, there’s nobody here to see that the world at the Pearlers is normal, and I regret that. Your service,” Greg cleared his throat, “your friendship to the family is cut from the same cloth as mine.”
“Loyalty,” James said curtly.
“Devotion.”
“Very well then. I will let you know when the boots are dry.” James straightened his back and inflated his chest as a person did when they were paid an enormous compliment.
A few minutes later,after Greg had washed his boots and left them in the stables to dry, he arrived in the attic where Fave and Arnold wore masks, their figures clad in pristine white fencing attire. The metal clanks of their sabers made Greg glow with pride for their skill and precision. They’d all learned fencing at Eton and had practiced together ever since. Was there anything more powerful for a young man than to practice combat? It wasn’t enough to know what was right and wrong if one didn’t fight for it— in deed, with words, or with the sword. Fave, Arnold, and Caleb needed to fight for their families, careers, fortunes, and children. Greg had friends and a cause but with Hermy, he’d have a chance to fight for a family, too. Could he reconcile forging a future respected by society and still remain critical of that society?
Outside, the fog had subsided, and sunlight streamed through the windows, casting shadows that mimicked their every move as if the morning watched their training. The parquet vibrated when they jumped, sending subtle tremors through the soles of Greg’s feet, as if inviting him into the fray.
“Where are your shoes?” Fave’s voice came from behind one of the masks. His golden blond hair stuck out, while Arnold shrugged off his mask and shook his chestnut hair, which clung to his temples with sweat.
“You can’t fence without shoes.” Arnold walked to the tray that had tea for three, muffins, sliced apples, walnuts, and a small pot of honey.
Meanwhile,at Kirby Place, Hermy woke to the click of the door as a maid carried a breakfast tray into the room.
“Good morning, milady. I wasn’t sure when you’d like to eat before the fitting.”
Hermy blinked several times. “Which fitting?”
“His Grace asked me to help you ready yourself to receive Madame Giselle in the parlor in an hour.” The maid poured steaming tea into the cup. “Do you take milk and sugar in your tea, milady?”
“Yes, please. And your name is?”
“Anna.”
“Thank you, Anna.” Hermy sat up and pushed the covers to the side, trying to pull the wrinkles straight. She’d run her household at a profit, which meant making her own bed and employing only two maids to help keep the estate clean.
“Oh no, milady. Please allow me!” Anna rushed to Hermy’s side to take the sheet from her.
Hermy walked around the bed and took the other side, helping Anna to pull the large sheet straight. Anna stared at her for a moment and then looked away with a blush.
Ah, the gossip had followed Hermy.
