The Roses of Feldstone, page 21
I stood up and placed a kiss on his rough cheek. He pulled me into a tight hold, and Elizabeth giggled between us.
He stepped back and shifted Elizabeth so he was holding her by the waist, and then he lifted her into the air.
“It passed!” William said.
“It passed,” I repeated and then flopped back down into the chair.
“What passed, Papa?” Jacob asked.
“The Chimney Sweep Act,” Adam answered. “Papa has been working on passing the Chimney Sweep Act. Haven’t you been listening at dinner?”
“Oh,” Jacob said. “That passed.”
“Yes,” William said, stepping over to Jacob and ruffling his hair. “From now on, it is illegal for anyone under fourteen to be apprenticed to a chimney sweep. And not only that; the boys have to desire it. It cannot be forced on them.”
I could tell that except, perhaps, for Adam, who had heard the story of his namesake a multitude of times, none of the children understood the magnitude of what that would mean for so many young boys around England. They had no idea what the life of a climbing boy was like. It didn’t sadden me. Instead, I looked into John’s sweet five-year-old eyes and hoped that the entire practice would be extinct before he was old enough to understand the enormity of what had happened today. Five years old, just one year younger than Adam had been when he had been pulled out of that chimney. The room seemed to get colder. I got out of the chair and knelt to pull John into an embrace. His warmth brightened the room again.
“You will need to write to Adam,” I said. “He will want to know.” Adam still lived with the Wrights when he wasn’t at Cambridge.
“I wrote to him before coming home,” William said. “It will be good for him to get some good news. He is happy whenever I see him, but it can’t be easy for him at college. It was hard enough for me, and I started with more advantages.”
There was a knock at the door, and Jane brought in a tray laden with biscuits and sweets. Behind her, Mr. Jones brought in a tray with tea. They both set their trays on the small school table and then left.
“Well, look at that,” William said with a smile in his voice. “Jane has brought us some petit fours. Children, has your mother ever shown you her preferred method of eating petit fours?”
The younger children laughed, and Adam rolled his eyes.
“Four, all at once,” Adam said. “Yes, Father, we know.”
“Four, all at once!” William said as he reached for my waist and pulled me over to the table.
“I have never eaten petit fours four at once,” I said in my primmest voice. “I do, however, feel that as a general rule, they should be eaten four in one sitting. Otherwise, why else would they be called petit fours?”
William raised his eyebrows and then looked around at our impressionable children. “Have you employed that French tutor for the children yet?” William asked.
I sucked my mouth in to prevent a smile, gave him a small salute, and said, “I will straight away.” Giving up on seriousness, I reached up and brushed William’s hair away from the side of his face, then stood on my toes and whispered in his ear, “Today is a remarkable day. Thank you, William. I know you worked very hard to ensure that act was passed.”
“Every day with you is remarkable, Rose.” He pulled me closer, but just before his lips met mine, I pulled his head to the side and softly kissed his temple. That was our kiss, our symbol that all was well, and we employed it often. William smiled at the gesture that was so familiar, pulled softly on one of my loose tendrils of hair, and then made his way to the petit fours.
About the Author
Esther Hatch grew up on a cherry orchard in rural Utah. After high school, she alternated living in Russia to teach children English and attending Brigham Young University in order to get a degree in archaeology. She began writing when one of her favorite authors invited her to join a critique group. The only catch was she had to be a writer. Not one to be left out of an opportunity to socialize and try something new, she started on her first novel that week.
Esther Hatch, The Roses of Feldstone
