There was a buzz from the crowd as Charles Dickens stood to speak, and he held up his hand to quiet the crowd.
“Let us send those confined to working in cotton mills and workhouses. Surely some of these women would have better lives in the colonies with a chance to marry and raise good Christian families.”
“But what should we do with our upper-class old maids?” someone shouted from a far corner of the room.
A roar of laughter went up, and I sank deeper into my seat.
Another voice responded, “Send them to the lonely gold miners too!”
The cheers grew even louder, and a few men tossed their hats in the air.
The chairman stood up and demanded order. Banging a gavel, he introduced the next speaker, Miss Angela Burdett-Coutts. I knew that name. Miss Burdett-Coutts was the talk of all the society pages in the broadsheets. At age twenty-four, she had inherited the vast fortune of her grandfather’s bank. It was said she was blessed with high energy and a serious mind and that she had dedicated herself to a life of philanthropy. If I had such a fortune, I thought, I would see to it that Harriet and I were always comfortable and safe. Perhaps I could even convince Edward to sell our estate back to me.
I strained for a better view as Miss Burdett-Coutts rose from her seat at the head table. She was an elegant woman, wearing a green silk day gown with pagoda sleeves and the very latest fashion of a slim-fitted skirt.
“Gentlemen,” she began. “I propose we send two ships of impoverished single women, of varied classes and backgrounds, to the colony of British Columbia with the express intent of providing our lonely sons with good Christian wives. I will fund this project with a gift of fifteen thousand pounds.”
Three cheers went up from the assembly, and the two women in front of me jumped to their feet and hugged each other. I slouched in my seat. Would life be better for these women in the colonies? Charles Dickens, a man I greatly admired, seemed sure of it. But I had seen firsthand what could happen when a man feels he can do as he wishes, sure that the law won’t touch him. I couldn’t imagine what liberties he would take in a lawless land. No, everything I heard here today confirmed that this wasn’t the path for me. I would tell Wiggles as much once Harriet found me a suitable staid Englishman to marry. I just hoped that I hadn’t made matters worse with George and that the letter would smooth everything over.
Chapter Nine
A week after the party, the house was a hive of activity as preparations were underway for a dinner with Lord Ainsley. Charles was due back from his hunting lodge that day, and as much as Harriet denied it, I knew she was just as anxious as I was to see what kind of mood he would be in. George had not yet responded to our letter, but we sensed no gossip at church on Sunday. I hoped it was a good omen, that he had been placated by what he had read.
The one solace was the weather. Spring had reasserted itself once again. May was out in all its glory, and I sat on a rug in the garden in the warm afternoon sun with Little Dorrit. I’d had an inclination to reread it after meeting Charles Dickens. My experiences of late had opened my eyes to many things, and I found new meanings in the narrative. I was startled when something warm brushed my arm. I dropped my book just as a small ball of fur darted across my lap and began nipping playfully at my fingers.
“A puppy!” I cried happily, scratching its ears. “And just who might you be?”
“Belle. A little gift I brought back for Hari.” I looked up to see Charles coming towards me. He must have just returned. “She’s a Pekinese. I want you to train her. I won’t have any puddles on the carpets.”
Charles was always keeping up appearances, and these adorable dogs were all the rage after the Chinese Dowager Empress Cixi gave one to Queen Victoria to cement relations between our two countries.
“I’d love to train her,” I said. “I’m good with animals. I always trained the dogs on our estate when I was a girl.”
I smiled, expecting Charles to leave having entrusted the pup to my care, but he remained where he was. “Did you have a nice trip?” I asked uneasily.
“Never mind my trip. I had expected that you and George would have announced your engagement by the time I returned. Didn’t the two of you wander off at the party? I should have thought a little private tête-à-tête would have moved things along. Lord knows I’ve done everything in my power.”
So George hadn’t spoken to him. That was good. But how could I get Charles to stop pushing for the marriage? I decided to be partially honest with him. “I don’t think he’s really all that keen on me.”
Charles took a step towards me. “I thought Harriet explained this to you. I need to be in George’s good graces if I’m to get into cabinet. He rewards those who treat him with deference and respect. He lets everyone else wallow in political oblivion. It would be best if he and I were related through marriage. Is that too hard for you understand?”
“I understand,” I choked, determined not to let my inner fury show. Was Charles so desperate for political favours that he
