Eliza walked into the dining room, which was grand in its own way, with chandeliers, family members' portraits, and ceramic vases in several spots. The duchess and the duke were already sitting there, both were reading the newspapers, and looked up when she entered.
"Your Grace," she greeted.
"Miss Fairleigh. Come sit on my right."
Eliza nearly winced at the request. 2 months ago, she was still sleeping in an orphanage, for crying out loud. Now, she was asked by a duchess to dine with her and sit on her right side of the table.
She turned, as subtly as she could, to Sterling. The dignified butler waved his hand once, signalling her to move forward. So she did. She curtsied before sitting down.
Once she sat down, the duchess spoke about the current events as she and her grandson folded the newspapers, and the soup was served.
The appetizer was clear chicken soup with barley.
Eliza noticed the spoon she was holding was shaking a little, and she was so glad that the Duke and Duchess were busy talking with each other.
Meanwhile, as the soup entered her body with each spoonful, warmth spread within her. She was sneezing several times after they returned from the church. It was a little cold that day. It was a chilly autumn overall. She was glad to have that delicious soup.
But she was also amazed at the cutlery, bowls and plates, yet couldn't forget the usual soup at the orphanage, where it had less chicken and more vegetables, and they would be eating them with hard bread, which they had to dip in the soup first to make it edible.
"Is the soup not to your liking, Miss Fairleigh?"
Eliza looked up in surprise.
Nathaniel asked because he noticed how Eliza had been staring at her soup for several seconds already.
"No. No, it's….possibly the best soup I've ever had in my life, although perhaps my mother's was still better in my memory…."
The duke and duchess stared at her, muted.
"I'm—I apologize. I didn't mind to offend the cook's—"
Elinor waved her hand, "Don't worry. The chef is far too sure of her own skills to be offended by the comment of a young girl. But—I like how you still prefer your late mother's soup over ours."
Elinor smiled with the understanding of someone who had loved and lost as well.
"It's so unbelievable how—"
But Eliza stopped herself, unsure whether it was a proper thing to say or not.
"How?" Nathaniel urged.
"How….how two months ago, I was still eating the orphanage soup. And the—content is so—different from this."
"What was the content?" The duke asked again.
"It has less chicken. More vegetables. And the bread….it was hard. We had to dip it in the soup to be able to eat it without hurting our teeth."
The duke and his grandmother shared a look.
"We might be able to visit your orphanage this season. Bring gifts for the children there," Elinor suggested.
"Re—really, Your Grace?"
"Really, Miss Fairleigh. Now, stop analyzing your food, and just finish it."
Eliza smiled a little, before resuming sipping the said soup.
The main menu was roast beef with Yorkshire pudding, stewed vegetables, glazed carrots, and boiled potatoes.
The cook and the assistants always plate the food beautifully, and for Eliza, it was luxury beyond belief.
Even the aroma was already amazing.
At the tip of her tongue, she wished to ask "Am I really allowed to have this?" Like a child, but she managed to stop herself from doing that.
She carefully sliced the beef, before tasting it. It tasted so juicy and seasoned well. She also sampled the side dishes, and felt that everything was fit for the queen herself.
Nathaniel was watching Eliza eat. He didn't need to ask, because it was obvious, just from her expression, that she was enjoying it very much.
For a few seconds, he scrutinized his plate. He never thought much about food, except perhaps on very special occasions. That menu was something very ordinary for him. Something he had so often since his childhood. But for Miss Fairleigh, it seemed to be exceptional.
His grandmother's previous secretary came from a middle class background, while Miss Fairleigh was from a lower class. It seemed that something so mundane for him was so precious for her.
Had he been…..ungrateful all along?
The duchess noticed the thoughtful look her grandson gave to her secretary.
Elinor had long understood that as someone with a high rank, you need to manage your facial expressions, your body language and where your eyes went.
She didn't overthink, she just redirected his attention.
"How's your workhouse reform initiative?"
Workhouse reform initiative?
Eliza looked up from her plate.
"We're still in the first step. But I and Walter truly believe we need to push this through. If we only do one important thing as a member of The House of Lords our entire life, then this is it. I will discuss with him who we should take to our team, to make this initiative possible."
"This will not be easy. Mark my words."
"Grandmother, I have told you the condition of that workhouse I visited with Walter."
"And I remember. I am not stopping you. But I'm telling you, it won't be easy. It will be hard. It might take years until this law could be legalized, if ever. Better workhouses conditions, better treatment for workers. You know who will suffer if that law is legalized? The aristocracy and the rich owners of those workhouses. If you succeed, you will have enemies. People might abandon you. You might be a social pariah. Just make sure you know the consequences, before speaking at The House of Lords."
"I am aware. But if I do nothing, I will sin. People are suffering, and I have the ability to voice it and to hopefully help them."
Nathaniel was so worked up that he didn't realize Eliza was staring at him with awe.
A duke who thought about the most unfortunate. It would be strange if Eliza was not in awe.
However, Elinor noticed it.
She noticed everything.
Elinor took her crystal glass, half filled with her favorite white wine. Then she stared at their family crest with the motto across from her, placed proudly on the wall.
"Per ministerium, dignitas," she read the motto out loud.
Eliza turned to that wall and stared as well.
"I wasn't born as a Blackmere, as you obviously know," the duchess resumed, "I married into this family when I was 18. I thought the motto was empty talk. A line to appear fancy wherever it is printed. But no. 40 years in this family, and I learnt that what we do is who we are. The Blackmeres taught me that we have absolute privilege. Something that most people don't. My mother in law told me on my wedding night, "Elinor, you are now powerful. You are Lady Blackmere now. One day, you will be the duchess. Use your power wisely." Amazing duchess, my mother-in-law. She's my compass. I have tried to come closer to her standards for 40 years now, and by God, I am not going to make her disappointed in me from her grave, bless her."
Elinor was quiet for a while, lost in the memory of her mother in law.
"So, Nathaniel, do what you must. And I, I will use my utmost power to back you up."
"The force behind society? The one who could convince the queen's children and grandchildren to marry who she wishes to? You're a force, Grandmother."
Elinor chuckled.
"I don't brag, but only under this roof will I say, I do have a say behind a lot of things. May God be with you, like how I would."
"I'll drink to that," Nathaniel grinned.
Eliza lifted her glass too, and took a sip of her own white wine, feeling she was sitting in front of giants. Literal giants.