An Unwanted Charity: Threads of Magic Book 2: Threads of Magic, #2

By K. A. Quinn

In this continuation of the Threads of Magic trilogy, Charity and Bridgette confront even greater challenges as they must save those they love from the relentless forces of plague and dark magic.

 

Excommunication threatens to strip Lord Carolinus of his estate, but what begins as a battle for property soon transforms into a harrowing examination of the Church of the One True Way's secret crimes. Charity's plans to reopen the school have come to a standstill.
 

Bridgette thought she had nothing left to lose. She was wrong. Her quest for justice takes a perilous turn as mind control leaves her loveless and penniless. She concocts a wild plan that may put them all at risk by asking for help from the very priests who want her dead.
 

Amidst these unfolding events, a victory against Lord Carolinus is short-lived after the plague threatens to destroy everyone Charity holds dear, and she must face her greatest fear of all-- exposing her metaphysical powers to the Church.
 

An Unwanted Charity is the second book in the exciting gaslamp fantasy trilogy Threads of Magic by award winning author K. A. Quinn.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: K. A. Quinn
• Release date: Oct 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223432623

Book preview

An Unwanted Charity

Threads of Magic Book 2

K. A. Quinn

Copyright © 2023 by K. A. Quinn

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Contents

1.Chapter One

2.Chapter Two

3.Chapter Three

4.Chapter Four

5.Chapter Five

6.Chapter Six

7.Chapter Seven

8.Chapter Eight

9.Chapter Nine

10.Chapter Ten

11.Chapter Eleven

12.Chapter Twelve

13.Chapter Thirteen

14.Chapter Fourteen

15.Chapter Fifteen

16.Chapter Sixteen

17.Chapter Seventeen

18.Chapter Eighteen

19.Chapter Nineteen

20.Chapter Twenty

21.Chapter Twenty-One

22.Chapter Twenty-Two

23.Chapter Twenty-Three

24.Chapter Twenty-Four

25.Chapter Twenty-Five

26.Chapter Twenty-Six

27.Chapter Twenty-Seven

28.Chapter Twenty-Eight

29.Chapter Twenty-Nine

30.Chapter Thirty

31.Chapter Thirty-One

32.Chapter Thirty-Two

33.More by the Author

Chapter One

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E xcommunicated? What does that mean? Charity Carolinus asked, turning to Mrs. Barton. The cook, had come up behind them to peer at the slightly disheveled messenger from the Church of the One True Way who had arrived at the townhouse’s front door. Her normally ruddy face rapidly drained of color, and even her chapped knuckles went white against the faded towel she was gripping.

It means Lord Carolinus is no longer a member of the Church, said Mrs. Pettigrew, the townhouse’s housekeeper.

Father won’t be bothered. He never really attended anyway, said Charity.

We all become members at birth.

It means, said the messenger from the Temple of Priests, clasping his hands piously, that all of Lord Carolinus’s lands and money are forfeit, along with his title, and that he’ll be arrested for heresy. Now vacate the premises immediately.

Now, see here, said Mrs. Pettigrew.

What does that mean for us? We didn’t do anything to the Church. Mrs. Barton’s normally booming voice contracted to a squeak.

Charity bit her lip, mind whirling. Where would she live? How would she survive if her father’s property was taken away?

Former Lady Bridgette Winston, recently returned from her own execution, stepped out of the shadows and barged into the doorway. I’ve studied the law, and that’s not at all what it means. We’re going nowhere.

He has no heir, said the messenger.

Yes, he does, said Charity. I am his heir. And I’m not excommunicated.

The messenger seemed to find this statement riotously funny, losing his composure and throwing his head back.

Said Bridgette, Lord Carolinus might lose his position, but his property is not at all forfeit.

A girl as an heir! And there is a fine, said the man.

And I’m sure he’ll pay it, said Mrs. Pettigrew. If you can find him, she added under her breath, knowing that the master had the ability to be busy at all hours and possessed little patience for so-called nonsense.

Surely the master will straighten this out, said Mrs. Barton, looking up with a pleading face.

He won’t like it one bit, said Charity, but I’m sure that Bridgette is right.

Yes, I am. Lord Liam let me read all of his law books. Additionally, I have heard that Lord Atkinson is putting it to a vote quite soon, Bridgette said, about women inheriting property and titles.

The man scoffed. I’ve heard no such thing.

Bridgette went on, Isn’t there a hearing to be had as well? The master should be able to defend himself.

The church is above the law.

Not in cases that involve Lords, said Bridgette, tucking an auburn curl behind her ear. In those cases, he, the Temple Council, and the Council of Lords must attend a trial together.

This did not look to comfort Mrs. Barton. They wouldn’t speak against him, would they? she hissed. Mrs. Pettigrew gave her a sharp nudge.

It crossed Charity’s mind that not a one here was defending her father. They knew well enough what he was capable of and how dangerous he could be. The Temple obviously wanted to get rid of him. Were the other Lords too afraid to support Lord Carolinus against the Temple?

Bridgette put her hands on her hips. I can see you were counting that we would not know our rights. Now go and tell your masters at the Temple to try again in accordance with the law.

And just who are you?

My name is Bridgette Winston.

The man looked baffled, clearly recognizing the name.

And I’ve come back from the dead, she concluded with a flourish.

At that, the man fainted and collapsed to the gravel walk beneath him.

They all looked around at each other.

Perhaps you ought to have lead with that to save time, said Charity.

Well, now he isn’t going to leave at all, said Mrs. Pettigrew, nudging him with her well-worn shoe.

Whatever shall we do? asked Mrs. Barton, wringing her towel and backing off.

Don’t you worry about that, said Rose kindly, coming up to survey the situation and placing a hand on Bridgette’s back. What in the world happened here?

The former Lady answered, This man came to evict everyone here. I informed him of our proper legal rights. Then I told him I was back from the dead.

Rose let out a laugh. That pronouncement appears not to have been well received.

The vile man! I hardly care.

Do we leave him here? Mrs. Pettigrew asked. Lying on the stoop?

Certainly, said Bridgette, and she shut the door.

Shouldn’t Miss Charity decide? As it may be her house now?

Everyone looked at her. Charity was initially inclined to leave the man outside in full view of passersby but kindness prevailed. She said, I don’t think it will do Father’s case any good for this man to be neglected.

Must we? asked Bridgette, but Rose Terwilliger took her arm and countered, We must. You enjoyed frightening him rather much, didn’t you?

Bridgette wrinkled her nose. I’d rather get rid of him and start figuring out what to do next.

Do you think Lord Atkinson’s bill will pass? Charity asked. I wasn’t sure he even listened to me all the times I asked for help.

I think that now there are many Lords who only have daughters left.

Charity’s throat closed up at the thought of the fire at Dun School that had killed three quarters of the boys who had attended. She, the only female student, had escaped only from running away from the headmaster after her friend, Samuel Watkins, had been executed for finding a skeleton buried in the school’s hill. And it was all Charity’s fault.

It only makes sense, said Rose.

It solves your problem as well, said Mrs. Pettigrew with judgmental jut of the chin at Bridgette.

A societal improvement for one woman is an improvement for all, the once-Lady said archly. If my Grace could hold a position in the government, so we all should. Lady Grace Winston, who had recently passed away from the plague, had inherited her husband’s project of orphanage reform after his own passing two years before.

Mrs. Pettigrew muttered, She’s already practicing for a career in politics.

What a notion, Mrs. Barton said, shaking her head.

Charity reopened the door. The man was still lying where he fell, his shoulder twisted uncomfortably, gravel pressing into his cheek and brow. He looks heavy, she ventured.

Mrs. Pettigrew said, Well, we can’t just leave him on the doorstep! What will people think?

Maybe they’ll think him for a drunk. I’m not carrying him in, said Bridgette, dusting her hands.

Rose sighed. If we should all grab hold of a limb, we could bring him in easily.

Mrs. Barton rubbed her back but stepped out to help. She and Mrs. Pettigrew each began to lift. Bridgette put her hands on her hips. Rose and Charity stepped in, the latter rather ineffectually as she was the smallest. Together they maneuvered him through the foyer toward a chaise longue, upon which they rested his body.

Rose smoothed back his long brown hair and began to pick out bits of rock from his skin. Bridgette shook her head and turned away.

Charity ventured, Suppose I should persuade him?

Unnaturally, you mean? said Bridgette. Haven’t we had enough of that?

I’m terribly sorry that you were accused as a witch. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I tried to persuade you not to go, Charity thought but knew better than to say as much with the woman already incensed. Charity paused to consider the consequences of metaphysically persuading the visitor or making him forget his task. I suppose I’d best not. I’m sure the Temple would just send someone else.

Mrs. Barton said, I’d better get some water for when he wakes up, and left, looking quite as if she’d prefer not to return. She ought not be in the front of the house at all, and the conversation was quite too much.

Mrs. Pettigrew said, He’s heavy, but he’s awfully young, don’t you think? Wouldn’t the Temple want to send someone senior for a job like this?

Charity said darkly, I should think they’d choose someone they didn’t like for the job of going after my father.

Hmph. Never you mind, young Lady. When the master comes, he’ll sort this out.

Do we want him to come? Bridgette asked. Do we want Lord Carolinus in the middle of this mess? She lowered her voice. What if he should try to kill this man?

Nonsense, said Mrs. Pettigrew, although she looked alarmed. Surely he wouldn’t do such a thing when the Church has a record of sending someone here.

It wouldn’t shock me a bit, said Charity, but I do think Father wouldn’t be so obvious. No, the Lord would make it look like a heart attack as he was wont to do.

Mrs. Pettigrew sank into a seat, keeping a wary eye on the unconscious messenger. Whatever have I gotten myself into?

The young priest stirred, and Mrs. Pettigrew covered her mouth. Rose crossed the room and leaned in. Are you all right, sir?

He raised his bruised face and let out a groan.

Did he hit his head hard? asked Rose, who hadn’t been standing in the crowded doorway at the time.

I’m not sure, said Charity. We were so alarmed by his demands that we didn’t take care to catch him.

The priest blinked and stared at Bridgette again and shook his head as if to clear it of the image of her.

Perhaps you should hide? Charity suggested.

Absolutely not, said Bridgette. What I said earlier was correct in every way, and I stand by it.

I meant—

I know what you meant. I’m here to make sure that this man doesn’t manipulate you to his opinion.

Charity looked down at the man, who was gingerly rubbing his brown hair and sitting. He looked mostly harmless. I can handle manipulation, she said, thinking of her father. She shot Bridgette a glare.

The other woman raised her head loftily and took a few steps back.

Mrs. Barton hurried in with a glass of water, which the unwelcome visitor took gratefully, although he might have been unhappy to learn that she was merely a cook and not a maid, as the house was understaffed. It’s been a long ride to get here, he said. Traffic was dense.

Is it? Bridgette asked with interest, peering out the window.

The death of yet another Temple Council member has caused quite a commotion.

Has it? she said lightly. I do suppose people are questioning their faith if God killed a High Priest instead of me. Charity nudged her, and the other woman shrugged. You can’t excommunicate them all, can you?

The visitor swallowed incorrectly and gave a splutter. I’ve been told there will soon be a new department to handle such things.

Oh, you’re the only one as of now? Bridgette asked with false sweetness in her tone as if she empathized with his overwork.

He cleared his throat and looked as if he hadn’t meant to mention it.

I do hope that the Temple members shouldn’t continue to die at such a rate… How will they get anything done at all? Bridgette smiled at him innocently.

Charity gave an involuntary shudder. Her new governess’s tone reminded her overmuch of her father’s. Mrs. Pettigrew noticed the reaction. She put both her hands on Charity’s shoulders and shot a glare at Bridgette. The housekeeper said, I’ll pass on your message to the master. It’s time that you go.

I’m under orders to stay until Lord Carolinus arrives and to detain him!We don’t know when he’ll arrive. He keeps an irregular schedule.

You’re not welcome. Bridgette nudged his shoulder. After gazing at their stern faces in turn, he stood and left. She took his vacated spot upon the sofa immediately, even though it was embarrassingly warm. Ha!

It’s not as if we’ve solved it, said Mrs. Barton, picking up the man’s used washcloth. He’ll be back, or someone tougher will be.

He didn’t handle his fall well.

That’s not what she meant and you know it. Mrs. Pettigrew seized the cloth and gave the Lady a whack in the hip with it.

She looked quite shocked. I can hardly think that I deserve violence.

This from the Lady whom the Church executed. Mrs. Pettigrew walked off, shaking her head.

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Bridgette, Rose, and Charity sat together in the sitting room musing over the consequences of excommunication. Should one of us go find Lord Carolinus? Rose asked.

No one volunteered. Charity shuddered, thinking of her father’s rage once he received the news. This is not what I expected, she said faintly.

Bridgette said, I didn’t expect to be killed!

Of course not. I’m—

Don’t say you’re sorry once again. It isn’t your fault. She paused and said more gently, What would you suppose you’d be doing if all this didn’t happen?

How much ‘all this’ are you referring to? Charity asked, thinking of a few months before when she was locked in her room as a result of her escape attempts.

Her governess shrugged.

If the past few days hadn’t happened… I suppose I’d be talking to Lord Atkinson or Priest Faulkner about a school again.

You would go back to Dun?

Not specifically there, but I do think that there were parts of it that were nice. The music, the literature…

Did you have many friends?

Charity shook her head. Just Samuel. She cleared her throat. Perhaps with more time. I wish Esther had gone with me.

Esther?

The scullery maid here. We’re friends.

Bridgette looked bemused.

Charity went on, The children need a school. All the children, even people like Esther.

The look became quizzical.

Esther must work in service because of her circumstances of birth, which she could not control. Why should I get an education while she cannot?Bridgette said, Because that’s the way of things.

Your Lady Grace was willing to help orphans. Didn’t you yourself say you thought that some of those children should be adopted by the peers?

Well… some of them. The ones who were better educated, better bred—

Rose interjected, her cheeks flared with color. Better bred? Like horses?

Bridgette hastened to apologize. You do know though that some orphans… they have lived on the street and haven’t knowledge of anything. How would they fare in a school with others who have had better fortunes?

Charity thought for a moment. We’d need to sort them by skill and provide extra instruction for those who are behind.

You really think they’d catch up?

Charity shrugged. I did at Dun School. She did not mention that perhaps the prior governess she had been forced to forget may have had some positive influence upon her education.

And what of those who have no desire to learn?

I expect they should be encouraged but shouldn’t be forced to attend. Perhaps we can apprentice them with local craftsmen. But no one should live on the street or in an orphanage.

Mrs. Pettigrew, who had been listening as she dusted, looked appalled at the idea. Mrs. Barton, who had come in with tea, nodded slightly.

Please speak your mind, said Charity to the cook.

It’s very difficult in an occupation such as service to find a way to better fortune.

Better than living in a Lord’s house? asked Mrs. Pettigrew, shaking her head. We should consider ourselves lucky.

You know what happened to those of us who are no longer employed here— like those Thomas girls. Mary Thomas was the aforementioned former governess who had ended up sacked with her sister Eliza. Both had met a dark end.

Slowly, the housekeeper nodded. I don’t like to think on it, and indeed, I… couldn’t for quite some time, could I? I didn’t remember until Charity helped me to.

Charity wondered if the housekeeper had befriended any of her old governesses. How sad it must be to lose one’s memory of a friend. It would be losing a memory of love. She wanted to weep at the thought of poor Samuel, dead and buried on the hill by the school. It pained her, but to entirely forget the memory of him would leave a piece of her empty. Might her father intend to rid her of it someday? And if he did, would she even know? Would she become restless and angry like dead Valet Maxwell, in desperate search for something that she didn’t know she had lost? Had the valet always been cruel, or was it that so much had been taken from him? What about her father?

She wrenched herself from her reverie and found that they had all remained in a respectful silence.

You’re right then, Mrs. Pettigrew concluded. I can’t say that you’re going to have an easy time of it, but I do believe you can do anything you put your mind to. She looked at Bridgette out of the corner of her eye. Especially if someone tells you no.

Charity smiled and threw her arms around the soft woman. After a moment, the housekeeper gently pushed the girl away from the apron, saying that she’d get dust all over her finely embroidered dress. Charity was about to say that she didn’t care but wasn’t sure when the laundress would be on her way, as chaotic as the household had become.

Charity mused, How would we ever get the funds to rebuild Dun School?

Annie Emworth, Bridgette’s lady’s maid who now worked at the Carolinus household, entered the room, seeking after the absent housekeeper. Begging your pardon for overhearing, but what about Lady Grace’s acquaintances… from the galas?

Bridgette’s expression went hard at the memory of the last gala, and her hand went to her chest. She said, Charity’s father might not let us usurp his donors. She considered. This is all well and good for you, but if you should go off to school, where should I work?You shall be a teacher there, of course!

Teachers are priests.

No, the Church hasn’t the hospitals and schools to worry about anymore.

Who shall be responsible for them then?

My father was in charge of science, so I expect the former will be his purview, but the latter… Grace would have liked to have run the schools, Bridgette mused.

Father might not run them, Charity agreed, as he has bigger problems.

Do you really think he’ll care about the excommunication?

It might make him look bad to the other peers.

Bridgette sat and wiped her hands on her dark purple dress. That might make it harder to pass Atkinson’s bill for women as they are political allies.

Charity twisted her skirts in her hands. I hope not. Do you think Father would vote for it?

Everyone knows Lord Carolinus has supported women in the past… when it suited his purposes.

He did only send me to school as a sort of experiment.

And to shock the Lords too, I daresay, put in Mrs. Pettigrew.

Bridgette laughed. They deserved it. The whole system deserves a shock.

Mrs. Pettigrew pursed her lips and left the room with Annie.

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Later, Mrs. Pettigrew cornered Charity in her bedroom, speaking in low tones. Her faded hair was escaping from her cap after a long day of work. Her apron was folded over one arm. Charity, that girl Bridgette will bring you nothing but trouble. You well know her scandalous history. Bridgette Winston was at risk of losing her home as she had already lost her Ladyship by confronting a grieving Council of Lords about rights for women and adoption at the wrong time. Then rumors about an inappropriate relationship with Lady Grace came to the public.

Charity said, The school idea itself will cause a scandal. But I do know what you mean. Bridgette… she doesn’t always think through her actions. She certainly hadn’t when she had run off to Lord Carolinus’s other home, Overwood Manor, in search of evidence against him and then had herself committed to Saint Dympha’s asylum in the process. Charity thought of the old accounts ledger, now safe in Winston Hall. I don’t know whether it’s her nature or if losing Lady Grace… perhaps it is grief or perhaps a taste of freedom has made her reckless.

Freedom?

She has little left to lose, and she will not be forced to marry now.

A man might put her to rights, muttered Mrs. Pettigrew.

I do believe that she is not of that persuasion.

I heard as much. That matters little, you know.

At any rate, Rose may help calm her. Bridgette and the florist Rose Terwilliger had become deeply attached in the past few weeks since the loss of Lady Grace.

I suppose Rose does seem a good woman. I’d say she’s of the wrong rank in society, but I don’t know where Bridgette stands now that she works as your governess.

Bridgette may have strong opinions, but she is a good woman too. I’m sure of it.

She’s gotten you into trouble before.

She’s my friend.

You’ve done so much for her, saving her life. Just you be sure that she starts giving as much as she’s getting.

Charity pressed her hand to Mrs. Pettigrew’s. I do believe she will. And I’ve taken your words to heart. How could I forget her execution?

Mrs. Pettigrew turned red. I never thought I’d see the day that the Church would do such a thing. Heaven knows what they’ll do next.

Excommunicate my father, it seems. The punishment hung over them like a storm cloud, making their home seem as precarious as if were perched on a cliff rather than nestled on a city street.

Charity said, I’m not saying there shouldn’t be some sort of justice, but they don’t even know what he’s done wrong, do they?

I suppose we’ll find out in due time. You’re going to defend him, Charity?

He’s my father. No, he is not innocent, but someone should stand up to the Temple.

Mind you don’t find yourself executed too.

Charity gave a little smile. She knew what to do about that once, but would it work again? The next executioner would do better to employ a sword than metaphysical skills.

Chapter Two

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Rose and Bridgette covered their heads with shawls to avoid notice, as best as they could with Bridgette having abandoned mourning colors and wearing acid green instead. They kept their heads down and made their way down the street and around the corner to Rose’s house without incident. Rose’s flower cart was still near her greenhouse round back. They sat in Rose’s small parlor, both still shaken from the past few days’ events.

I have no intention of clearing Lord Carolinus’s name, only my own, said Bridgette staunchly. I will not go to a trial.

How can we prove that Lord Carolinus did not kill the high priest, if you do not testify? You were the subject of the execution! Rose replied, shaking her blonde plaited head.

The death was an accident! I suppose the spell had to go somewhere, like lightning must strike the next highest object.

He died while you lived. Naturally, you’ll be under scrutiny.

Bridgette tossed her neatly coiled hair. Better that he is blamed then!

Think of Charity. Her father, her home, it’s all at stake.

Bridgette gave the impression of a bird with ruffled feathers as she ducked her head and glared at Rose out of the corner of her eye. Her hands were hiding in her bright, voluminous skirts, which were fashionable but rather warm for the coming of summer.

You cannot let that happen to Charity. She isn’t old enough to cope.

After a long moment, Bridgette put her hands to her forehead. Would it never end with this man? "How can I testify when I know he let Grace die when he is in charge of curing the damnable plague, and when I know what happened to his previous employees? He is guilty."

But not of what he is being accused of. His time will come. Meanwhile, this is an opportunity for you that will not come again— all the priests and all the Lords in one place! How else will you get a chance to talk to them?

If they find out I’m alive, I may be their next target. Let them get their fill of vengeance before I ask a favor. Lest they decide to kill me again. Bridgette’s stomach lurched.

They’ll find out in time. This is about doing what’s right. Perhaps you will build credibility with the priests.

Right! Right is that Lord Carolinus be hanged. Losing his estate is not enough for him.

There. He deserves worse. Later, when it’s time, when you have a case against him you can push for it.

There was no case against me. It was a baseless accusation. There was not even a chance to defend myself.

Consider it, please.

Bridgette stared at Rose, torn between her disgust of the Lord in question and her adoration of the woman before her. I’ll consider it.

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There was indeed a hearing. Charity Carolinus had wondered if it would be held at the Temple, or the Council of Lords, but it was instead held in the cathedral near which High Priest Augustus himself had died.

Charity had been on the grounds of the cathedral, on that fateful day in fact, visiting her mother and infant brother’s joint grave for the first time. It had been Saint Vinus Day, the anniversary of the end of the monarchy, when, centuries ago, Saint Vinus, who was a Lord before he was a saint, had finished killing the king’s family, freeing the country of Albion from the tyranny of witchcraft. Or so they had thought.

Lady Bridgette rather nonsensically had been accused of the terrible events at the cathedral that lead to the death of the High Priest and the infection of hundreds of churchgoers with the plague. She had not even been there. Charity, had, though, and she had blamed herself briefly. Upon re-entering the grounds of the cathedral, she reflected with growing suspicion that her father had had a propensity to follow her about when bad things happened.

The cathedral was even more impressive outside than in, with renditions of the day and night skies painted between arch upon arch. Sunlight shone in rainbows through the gory stained glass images of martyred saints. The sanctuary put the chapel at Dun School to shame. Thinking so brought an automatic twinge of guilt, as the school’s much smaller, wood ceilinged place of worship had caught fire in a disaster that had started in one of the adjoining chimneys.

She slid across a hard pew, wishing for a cushion. Charity wore a burgundy-colored velvet dress with a white sash, her nearly black hair pinned up in a tight bun by Annie. Her dark eyes scanned the room. So many people! The front rows of one side were filled halfway back with finely dressed men that must be Lords, and on the opposite sat the priests, dressed in a unifying shade of white, which she supposed symbolized their goodness. There seemed to be fewer priests than Lords, perhaps due to recent tragedy. The reminder of why they were there stayed her curiosity.

In the front stood a short but severe-faced priest with a shock of white hair and a robe finely embroidered in gold. A young man briefly rose to announce The Most Holy High Priest Simeon, Leader of the Temple of Priests, then hurried to the back. The man in front began to speak, his voice booming at such a volume that Charity flinched.

We, the Unified Temple of Priests, accuse Lord Jairden Carolinus of the Council of Lords of heretical doings, including interfering with the doings of the Temple of Priests, and witchcraft.

Charity tried not to react visibly. Inside, she was quaking with fear that she might be found out. The Temple was determined to blame someone. She glanced about and did not see her father present. No one had seen him since the accusations made against him, and Charity was disconcerted that the hearing could go on without his objections.

We of the Temple agree that Lord Carolinus committed heresy by meddling with Church business when he insisted on the separation of church and school as well as church and hospital.

A tall, thin Lord spoke up. Lord Carolinus made such a radical suggestion due to the fire at the school for the gentry. Regardless, one man cannot pass a bill. A majority voted in agreement.

The other Lords in attendance nodded. A majority did, agreed Lord Atkinson.

Simeon said, They were persuaded by him!

Are we not all persuading each other of one perceived truth of another at this very moment?

You know that is not what I meant.

Atkinson evenly said, I know that the man is not present to defend himself. Where has he gone?

Ask his household.

I believe it is your duty to do so. Isn’t his presence required?

Charity stood up and rather shakily said, All I know is that he has not been at either of his homes. I suppose someone from the Church must have checked his places of work. She added, I am not allowed there.