“Good morning, Mr. Barker,” Louisa said as she approached the man. When he gave her a blank stare, she added, “Miss Louisa Dunston?”
“Ah, yes. One of Mrs. Rutley’s girls. H-how’s she doing?” It appeared that even speaking of the headmistress caused him to stutter.
“She’s well,” Louisa replied. “Thank you for asking.” She glanced at the carriage. “Forgive me for inquiring, but you’re not leaving Chatsworth, are you?”
“Well, isn’t that what a carriage is used for?” Mr. Barker replied with a light chuckle.
“Yes, of course, but what I mean to ask is if you’re leaving Chatsworth for good. You aren’t, are you?”
Mr. Barker laughed outright. “Heavens, no. I’m off to my brother’s for a few days. Holidays, you see.” He tilted his head. “Is that why you came to speak to me?”
Louisa was unsure if the man was agitated or simply curious. “No, of course not. I wanted to let you know that I’ve been soliciting donations for the theater. The amount is small at the moment, but I have every faith that it will grow over time.”
Mr. Barker let out a heavy sigh. “I admire your dedication, Miss Dunston, I truly do. But I must be honest. If I lose this place, my heart will be forever broken, to be sure. But Sir Aaron has scheduled a meeting with me at noon Wednesday next after I return from my trip. I believe he wishes to increase his offer, and I may be forced to accept his terms.”
Her jaw ached with how tightly she was clenching it. So, the knight believed he could break the rules, did he? What gave him the right to go behind her back?
Granted, she had disregarded their thirty-day agreement, but her rationale was far more virtuous. Her goal was to do right by the entire village, not for a select few. Which was what would happen if the gentlemen’s club was allowed to take over the building.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Barker. I have faith that those of means in and around our village will come to our aid.”
Then an idea came to mind. Yes, it was as devious as what Sir Aaron had done, but what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander. Or so went the saying.
“Were you aware that Mrs. Rutley adores the theater as much as you do?”
Mr. Barker gaped. “Sh-she does?” he managed to stammer.
Louisa ignored Ruth’s snort. “Oh, yes.” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “And between us, she believes the knight is a selfish man and that real men, worthy men far more deserving should be honored instead. Men such as you. They are the true noblemen. Those who occupy the thoughts of many women.
The poor man was close to fainting. His breathing had become ragged, his face was as red as a tomato, and he had slid a finger into his cravat to pull it away from his throat.
Not wanting to put him through more turmoil, Louisa said, “We must go, Mr. Barker. But I’ll call on you after you’ve returned. I should have enough funds by then so you may begin the repairs.”
“Yes,” Mr. Barker said as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “I would like that very much, indeed. And do bring that wonderful headmistress with you.”
Assuring him she would, Louisa walked away, Ruth following behind.
The village was bustling by now. Single horses pulled a variety of buggies and carts, teams the more elaborate carriages of the wealthy—of which there were fewer given the time of year. Most of the nobility were still enjoying the diversions of the Season and would not be returning until the end of summer when England became too hot and stuffy.
“Are we done yet?” Ruth grumbled. “You’ve asked just about everyone in the village. Unless you’d like to visit Rake Street and solicit donations there.” She snorted at her attempt at humor.
After making several inquiries, Louisa had painstakingly calculated the cost of the materials, as well as the labor for replacing the roof. Unfortunately, it far exceeded what she would have ever considered before all this began. That meant increasing the amount she needed to collect by at least double.
“Yes, well, I think not,” Louisa said. “Besides, if I wanted to converse with the lowest in the village, I would search out Sir Aaron.” She glanced ahead of them. “Oh, I would like to stop in at the tailor’s shop. It’s on our way and will be the last place, I promise. Then we may return to the school.”
As they walked, Louisa stewed. It had been nearly a week since she had last seen Sir Aaron. Why had he not called? Or written?
That inflated sense of pride of his is likely keeping him away, she thought wryly.
When they arrived at the tailor’s shop, Louisa peered through the front window. Good, no customers.
“I’ll meet you here in a few minutes,” Ruth said. “I have something I must do.”
Louisa frowned. “Where are you going?”
Ruth jerked a thumb behind her. “That way.”
With a shake of her head, Louisa entered the shop. A tall man of perhaps thirty with dark-brown hair and a kind smile stood in the far corner. He was handsome in a way, with a straight nose and fine cheekbones. Although he was not the tailor, Louisa had seen him before in passing.