There had to be a way to make up for that lack. “The simplest thing would be to teach them, but that takes time.” Eleanor hoped they did not laugh at what she was about to say. “If an accountant or bookkeeper was hired—naturally, he would have to be trustworthy—to take care of the books and read any correspondence while the miner was learning those skills, that would resolve the problem. There should also be someone to assist the miners in reading their contracts. I assume they have them. Even our scullery maid has a contract.”

All three older ladies appeared thoughtful. Finally Lady Beaumont said, “Let me put it to my husband. He has been searching for a way to change things but has not yet found it.”

Eleanor let out the breath she had been holding. “Thank you.”

“I find your idea to be inspired,” Lady Lytton said.

“Yes, indeed.” Lady Montagu agreed. “I would be willing to donate to the mine fund.”

Bubbles of happiness rose through Eleanor, making her a bit light-headed. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Let me know when you begin the project,” Lady Lytton added. “Parliament might not take action, but we certainly can.”

That had been exactly what Eleanor had decided. It was nice to be around other ladies with like ideas.

“I trust you will be at Almack’s on Wednesday evening?” Lady Montagu asked.

“Yes.” Eleanor had almost forgotten that the Season began in only four more days.

“We will see you then.” Lady Lytton smiled. “It was a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Eleanor watched as the two ladies strolled off. They were both so nice. She could tell they were serious about helping. No matter what happened with Lord Montagu, his mother and sister were bound to become friends and supporters of Eleanor’s mine project.

* * *

John opened his eyes and wondered why his valet hadn’t woken him. Then the clock chimed, and Pickerell entered the bedchamber. “My lord. You wished to rise early this morning.”

“Thank you.” John threw off the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. This morning would be the first chance he had to speak with Lady Eleanor for longer than a few seconds. He strode to the washbasin and peered into the looking glass hanging on the screen. A lightly bristled visage stared back at him. If he shaved, he’d be late. He’d do it later. At the moment, he needed to see if his supposition about the time she rode was correct. John finished his ablutions and dressed, tying his cravat in a Mathematical before shrugging into a riding jacket. “Please tell Cook that I will want to break my fast a bit earlier this morning.”

“It has already been done, my lord.”

“Good man.” John took his hat and gloves from Pickerell and strode out the door.

St. Albans was approaching the house as John mounted Aramus.