Chapter 7 – Visiting the Fair

"Why did I give Nanny the day off," Tom grumbled as he pushed the pram around the fairgrounds with Sibby sitting up clutching the sides with her chubby fingers. Sibby was now fourteen months old and just starting to toddle around the nursery on her little legs. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to take charge of his daughter for the day. "How hard can it be to push your daughter around in a pram at the fair?" Tom had thought the day before. Now after the third nappy change in one morning and the red balloon he had purchased and tied to the side of the pram had lost interest for his daughter, he was learning just how fractious a teething toddler could be.

He sighed as he looked towards the stock pens. His main goal in coming to the fair had been to look over the different breeds of sheep and possibly arrange purchase of one or two rams for the estate farm. There was no way he was going to be able to do that as he glanced down at his daughter to see her bottom lip starting to tremble. He spotted an empty seat at a table by a corn on the cob stand and quickly pushed the buggy over to it so he could sit and pick up his daughter.

"What's the matter Sibby?" he crooned as he held her on his lap. He was quickly rewarded by Sibby bonking him on the head with her wooded chew toy. He sighed yet again in exasperation.

"You look anything but the happy father," Edith said as Tom looked up to see her standing by the pram.

"She's a might fractious," he replied. "I brilliantly gave Nanny the day off."

"Do you mind if I join you?" Edith inquired. "I've been looking at the preserves and farm produce all morning taking notes. I'm getting a little fractious myself."

"Please do," Tom said as the baby grabbed his nose and gave it a good twist.

"Perhaps she's hungry," Edith suggested trying to be helpful.

"I tried the bottle a while ago. She threw it back at me," Tom replied looking perplexed.

"Forgive me for saying so, but how often do you feed her lunch?"

"Not often, I'm usually at work and she's eaten supper by the time I get back in the evenings."

"Perhaps she needs a woman's touch," Edith suggested putting her arms out to take Sibby.

Tom handed the baby over then got out the selection of jars and the bottle of milk Mrs. Patmore had sent along for the day. Edith examined the jars then selected a small container of applesauce.

"Let's try something sweet. Everyone likes sweets," she declared. Edith had no more idea of how to feed a toddler than Tom did, but it was worth a try. She got the spoon out dipped it in the open jar then moved it towards the babies mouth while she cuddled Sibby close.

"The train goes in the tunnel," Edith crooned. "Open the tunnel so the train can go in."

Sibby's mouth pooped open for the spoon as she watched her aunt's face.

"That's my girl. Here comes the train again," Edith cooed.

It wasn't long and the applesauce had disappeared. The baby soon fell asleep while sucking on a bottle of milk.

"How did you know to do that," Tom questioned as Edith laid the now sleeping Sibby back into her pram.

"I vaguely remember our nanny doing something like that when Sybil was sick once. It just came out. I'm not really sure how I knew."

"I owe you a debt of gratitude or at least lunch," Tom said. "I haven't been able to get a thing done all day."

"Lunch then," Edith replied. "I'll stay here with the baby while you find us something to eat. I'm afraid none of the rest of the family will be at the fair until it's time to hand out the trophies. Mary wasn't feeling well this morning. She'll most likely miss the whole thing."

Tom nodded and headed off to find them some meat pies and two mugs of tea. It wasn't long and he was back. He was relieved to see Sibby still sleeping.

"You startled me the other day at dinner," Tom mentioned casually when they were almost finished their lunch.

"Did I?" Edith replied. "I don't know why I even said that. Yes I do. Granny made me so annoyed. It's been the same thing all my life, get married, do this, do that, don't do this. I've got something to do and I'm happy for the first time in my life. I don't know why she can't accept that."

"She's just concerned. She doesn't want you to be alone."

"She doesn't want me to drink tea from a mug either and yet here I am doing it," Edith replied.

"Getting married hardly equates to drinking tea from a mug."

"Doesn't it? I tried doing it their way and what did it get me? I'm an object of pity. The Lady spinster who was left at the alter."

"Look at the bright side, you don't have to kiss a man with lips like a chicken," Tom said suddenly starting to laugh.

The blush flew up Edith's cheeks.

"You promised never to mention that," she said. "A gentleman wouldn't."

"I never promised any such thing," Tom replied. "And as I have been reminded often enough I'm no gentleman. Besides you started it at dinner the other night."

"I guess I did," Edith said. They had gotten up and started to walk towards the livestock pens. "Why don't you go and look at livestock. I'll push Sibby around. I was going to go and talk to Mr. Wilks and his wife for a bit."

"I'll try not to be too long," Tom assured her before he left to look at the stock he was interested in.

An hour and a half later Tom found Edith at the display table for the cannery gently pushing the pram back and forth with the still sleeping Sibby in it.

"Are you ready to head back to the house?" Edith inquired.

"Yes, how about you?"

"I've had enough of the fair for the day," Edith said.

Tom took the pram and started pushing it along as they walked back together.

"It's been an odd summer, hasn't it?" Edith said as they walked along. "It's been the busiest summer I can remember yet I feel fulfilled at the same time."

"I've hardly had time to think about anything," Tom replied. "Your father tells me there is going to be a shoot in a few weeks."

"Have you ever shot anything?"

"No, I've never fired a rifle or a shotgun or any firearm for that matter in my life. If I don't take part, I'll look standoffish and ridiculous, if I do I might shoot myself in the foot."

"You'll learn," Edith replied. "Just like you've learned to ride. You are a good rider now. Shooting is about the same. You wear the right clothes and carry the shotgun over your arm like you know what you're doing. Even if you never fire a shot as long as it looks like you're taking part no one will ever know the difference."

"You make it sound like a masquerade."

"Granny told me you once informed her formal attire was the costume of an oppressive class. Do you still feel that way?"

"A bit, but I have to admit wearing the right clothes in the right way does get people to take you seriously. I just usually mess it up."

"When there's a shoot, I wear tweed and walk behind and hate every second of it. No one ever guesses. Maybe it is all a big costume party after all. Are you going to get Sibby a governess when she gets older?"

"I don't think so. I haven't really thought about it much. I do want her to go to school when the time comes."

"I always wanted to go to school, but of course Granny and Papa wouldn't hear of it. It was more important to know how to pour a cup of tea properly than anything else."

"With my parents it was work. I used to sneak off on Saturdays and hide in the public library all day. My brother, Kieran would get a job for a few pennies cleaning someone's yard or shoveling coal. He'd lie and say I was with him. They never wanted to hear a thing about books or schooling beyond the basics at public school."

"Things will be different for our children. Won't they?" Edith said suddenly stopping and looking at her brother-in-law. "At least if I ever have any, which is doubtful."

"Don't say that Edith. It will happen someday, I'm sure of it."

"You're optimistic."

"You have many qualities that would attract the right man."

"Name one."

It was Tom's turn to stop and look at Edith.

"You can talk about business and are always full of ideas for new ones," Tom replied with a serious expression.

"That's hardly a compliment or a quality to attract a man," Edith said with a small laugh.

"You listen when people talk to you. Not the polite nods and all the rest Mary does. She called Mr. Wakefield, Mr. WakeUp the other day when he was visiting your father," Tom shook his head and laughed at the recollection. "You really listen and ask questions. You remember things I've said that I've long forgotten. I think it is a highly attractive quality."

Edith thought over what Tom had said as they started walking again.

"I think I'll bring up the topic of a brewery the day before the shoot," Edith said after a long pause. "Papa will be so distracted he won't notice if you never load your gun or fire a shot."

"You are rather devious, aren't you?" Tom replied shaking his head at Edith's plotting.

"I've had a good teacher. There is a reason Granny always gets her way and it's not because she's always right."

"She does rather form the world to her way of thinking."

"I saw her watching you the other day after dinner. I think she's up to something."

"And what are your plans for avoiding her manipulations?" Tom asked.

"Simple. Keep busy with business, look into new ideas and stay out of her line of fire."

"You actually think that's possible?"

"Probably not," Edith replied with a smile as the started walking again towards the house and switched the topic of conversation back to the business of running the estate.