Page 57 of Beneath the Harvest Moon

“I will manage. I am no longer a lady of leisure.”

“When it comes to my grandchild, I’ll ensure you get the best care. Now, do as you’re told.”

Blythe adopted an obedient tone. “Yes, ma’am. Goodnight.”

Mrs Sharpe kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, my dear.”

Warmth and light hit Blythe when she stepped inside. A sense of contentment washed over her. Their home.

Mrs Brimble bustled out of the kitchen. “Oh, ma’am, you’re back. Would you care for some tea?”

“Yes, please.”

In the sitting room, Violet frowned at the ledger on her writing desk.

“Should you not be packing for your journey to York tomorrow?”

“I wanted to balance the books for Gabriel before I left.”

“Is there a problem?”

Violet bestowed a knowing glance. “Only that he needs to chase payments from some of his patients, as usual.”

Blythe sighed. “I shall speak to him again.”

Violet closed the ledger. “I should finish packing. Although I have no doubt Grandmama Simmonds will insist I wear whatever she has purchased for me instead.”

“She likes to see you looking your best.”

“There is more to me than being pretty, Mama, and I intend to prove it.” Violet chewed on her lower lip. “Grandmama will not approve, but I have decided to ask Mr Drake to take me to the bank.”

“Violet, I do not⁠—”

“Elijah does not intend to follow in Papa’s footsteps, so why not I? Papa took Elijah to the bank before he was twelve. Why can I not go just because I am a girl? I have shares in the bank too. Why should I not have a say in how the business is run?”

“It will not be easy to convince Mr Drake and the other shareholders to allow you an active role when you are old enough.”

“Which is why I want to learn now, so I will know what to do.” Her lower lip protruded. “If Grandmama does not allow it, then I will refuse to visit her in York again.”

“Violet, that is unkind. Your grandmama only wants the best for you.”

Violet stamped across the room. “You always said you would support me, but it is clear you do not.”

“Violet—”

The door slammed, and heavy footfalls on the staircase thudded through the house.

Blythe plopped into the high-backed chair by the hearth. Violet faced an arduous task if she wished to follow her dreams, but if anyone could do it, she would wager on her vivacious daughter. If only the world would recognise that Violet Simmonds had an excellent head for business and allow her to make use of her talents regardless of her sex.

She removed her shoes, flexing her toes. The soles of her feet throbbed after being upon them almost the entire day during Mrs Watson’s labour. Her eyelids drooped.

The front door opened and closed, and the corners of her lips tilted.

“Good evening, wife.” Gabriel’s deep voice wafted from the doorway.

Without opening her eyes, she replied, “Good evening, husband.”

“I must say, I never tire of the sight of you slouched in a chair with my babe in your belly.”