The monumental lunch for Eliza was nearing its end.
As the plates for the roast beef were taken away, came the dessert. Sliced pineapples.
She was so amazed she exclaimed loudly, "Dear God, are these pineapples???"
Sterling, who personally served the dishes himself, cleared his throat to scold her.
"I—beg your pardon, Your Graces. It's just that—I've never seen real pineapples before."
"Huh? How come?" Nathaniel asked in reflex.
"Because pineapples are extremely expensive, My Lord!" Eliza explained so excitedly, meanwhile, from behind the duke, Sterling glared at her.
"Take your first bite," Elinor urged.
Eliza tried one slice with a fruit fork.
The sweetness and the juice exploded in her mouth, her palm covering her mouth with amazement.
"What do you think?" The duchess asked.
"It's…..unique. It's like orange but much more….refreshing."
The duke and the duchess were smiling by then. It's hard not to. Eliza brought such a positive vibe to their tiny circle. She's like a candle in a dark room.
"Oh, Dear. If you're this excited over simple pineapples, how can you stay calm when we visit The Queen?"
"The….Queen?" Eliza asked, her cheerful tone changed drastically to dread.
"You haven't forgotten that Her Majesty and I are close cousins, right? Surely you see how I get a letter from her daily?"
"I saw….but it's different with—"
"I need you to stay calm when we visit her this weekend."
Eliza was so shocked she gasped.
"Don't worry, The Queen is not a monster you need to be afraid of. She's just like Grandmother," Nathaniel attempted to pacify her.
Easy for you to say, Eliza wished to retaliate, but held her tongue.
"You'll survive," Elinor assured.
Eliza felt her nerves were going haywire, and focused on breathing. The daughter of a school teacher and a pastry seller was about to see the queen.
Unbelievable, she mused.
*****
The next Tuesday, Nathaniel invited his friends to his townhouse. He and Walter were about to propose to their friends to join them in requesting the parliament to pass the Workhouse Reform Law as a team.
They mostly met at Eton, but they gained more friends when they were in Oxford.
"Wyndham's workhouse's condition was truly horrible, my friends," Walter began in a grieving and angry tone. "It's inhumane, cruel and will cause serious health issues. It is shameless, how the Wyndham's and other rich factory owners got so much profit from as little cost as possible. They were literally burning lives to produce candles that light this kingdom!"
The room was silent for a moment, until Frederick, or The Honorable Frederick Ashcombe commented in quiet grief, "It does sound very horrible, that some people suffer that much."
"These are true," Thomas Hale, a rising lawyer, added. "I received more and more appeals from different worker unions that demand better working conditions. Sadly, I lost many times, since the rich can always bribe and convince those they have to."
"My employees and my family's employees work in fair conditions," Julian raised his hands in open surrender. "We give them food and we pay them properly. At least enough for decent living. We don't earn by letting people bleed for us, just to make it known, everyone, alright? This is because my great grandfather started the Fairhurst business from the coins he gathered while working at a mill. My ancestors know the pain of being poor. That's why we treat our employees well, because if we have no employees, our business won't run properly."
Julian Fairhurst came from a family of rich merchants, one of the top 5 richest merchants in Great Britain at the time, and he had no shame in reminding everyone that his family started everything honestly, and from zero. And he needed to announce that the Fairhurst didn't make their employees suffer.
"What we need," Nathaniel began, "is more businessmen like you."
"We plan to propose The Workhouse Reform Law," Walter continued. "A law that will make sure workhouses are inspected by fair government officials in regular periods, ensuring a safe work environment, and decent treatment for all workers."
"And Walter and I can't do this alone," Nathaniel added. "It will be an honor if you all can join us."
"...it won't be easy, though. My family might disagree," Frederick replied. His family was very conservative. Almost too conservative to be endured, actually.
"Well, I have seen enough deaths because of the workhouse," The Honorable Charles Hawthorne responded. He was smoking his cigarette, sitting by the opened window.
"I've seen children get their fingers cut because of the machines…..women having stillbirths because they work too hard during their pregnancies…..and I know for a fact that most of these workers, you know what their life expectancy? They are lucky if they can reach 30 years old…..Meanwhile, people from the aristocracy live until they are ugly and grey," there was a bitterness in his voice. Memories from his daily experiences as a doctor that work at East End, one of the poorest areas of London that had many workhouses around it.
"I am still amazed at your bravery, for starting your practice there, and often working without payment," Nathaniel praised Charles.
Charles shrugged his shoulders. "I have a lot of money, but the clinic gives me a purpose."
"When I look at you, it's like looking at a saint," Frederick commented, of which Charles laughed dryly.
"I am no saint, My Dear Frederick. Saints don't bring different women to their beds. But they are like alcohol, to numb my memories, my rotten heart. I wish to save them all, but I only have two hands. My family donated, our friends donated, but it's still not enough. Maybe a reform is the answer. So count me in, Nathaniel. I am in, however I can help, I'll do it."
"Thank you. And how about the rest of you?" The duke asked.
"I am in. I have long since this was necessary, but I am just a merchant. You have the title. People will listen to you."
"It won't be easy just because I'm a duke and some of you are sons of Lords. We will have enemies if we start this."
"But this is something worth fighting for," Walter argued.
"And I agree, that's why I am starting this."
"I will join, of course," Thomas said, looking determined.
"I'll go where My Lord goes," Richard, Nathaniel's secretary and friend, said dramatically, making the others smile.
Then they all turned to Frederick.
"What do you think, Frederick? Are you in or out?"
"I want to join, but all hell will break loose once my father finds out. He might disown me."
"I understand your reasons. And if the worst really happens, is it enough if I say that I will do my utmost best to take care of you," Nathaniel offered.
Frederick was silent. No one pushed him, because they all knew how strict his family was, as one of the oldest Earldom in England.
"May I think about this first?" He asked.
"Of course," Nathaniel replied.
At that precise moment, Sterling appeared at the door.
"Her Grace the duchess offered all the honorable gentlemen here to stay for dinner and coffee afterwards, and perhaps some backgammon or music, if you are interested."
"Yes. Please, stay for dinner," Nathaniel requested.
"We have an important family guest tonight. I promised to be home for dinner," Frederick replied.
Nathaniel nodded. "We plan to meet again at this hour, next week, Frederick. You will always be invited."
"Thank you," Frederick smiled, "Thank you so much. I'll bid my goodbye now."
After the proper farewells, Sterling accompanied Frederick to the front door.
"I hope he'll join us. He's one of the smartest between us," Walter mused.
"We shouldn't force him, though. Let him make his own decisions."
*****