Chapter 13
Thalia thought briefly about saying no.
An instant later, she remembered her manners and scrambled to her feet. Blades of dry grass slipped off her skirts, and there was quite a hideous crease in the material.
“Your G-Grace,” she stuttered. “Christian. I did not expect to see you here.”
She thought she saw Mabel blink in surprise at her casual use of his first name. It wasn’t the done thing after all. The use of a first name indicated a closer acquaintance than was perhaps proper. Or an engagement.
Thalia mentally kicked herself. Mabel was an excellent maid and a good woman, but she was also something of a gossip. This scene would be repeated and reenacted in the servants’ hall before the day was out.
“It is the Park,” Christian responded, his gaze never leaving her. “Although it is perhaps a little early for promenading.”
At once, Nicholas jumped to his feet and leaped between them. “If this gentleman is giving you trouble, Lady Thalia, I shall see him off,” he announced fiercely.
Thalia bit her lower lip to keep from laughing.
Amusement glinted in Christian’s eyes. “I can assure you that my intentions are nothing but honorable,” he responded gravely. “However, it is reassuring to know that Lady Thalia has such a fine protector.”
“Yes, well,” Nicholas answered, mollified, “I shall be watching you.”
“No doubt. Well, I am the Duke of Thornhill, but you may call me Christian if you prefer.”
Nicholas cleared his throat, puffing out his chest. “I am Nicholas. And these are Alex and Sophia.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Christian offered, bowing. “I can see that Lady Thalia and her maid are preparing a luncheon. Perhaps you would care to join me in a short game of marbles beforehand?”
Alex glanced at the others. “We haven’t got any marbles.”
At once, Christian reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag that clinked and jingled. “That might be remedied,” he said.
The children’s eyes went wide. They turned as one to Thalia, their expressions faintly pleading.
“Can we, Lady Thalia? Can we?”
Thalia hesitated, glancing over at Mabel. But the maid’s expression gave away nothing, so she looked back at Christian. He was already watching her, his gaze thoughtful and pensive.
She swallowed, trying to ignore the heat coiling in her belly. It was not a sensation a respectable young woman ought to be feeling.
“I see no harm in it,” she managed.
Cheers broke out, and the children crowded around Christian, clamoring excitedly.
Thalia turned to Mabel and hissed under her breath, “How did he know to bring marbles? Does he carry them in his pocket all the time?”
“I imagine he knew that you come here regularly with the children,” Mabel responded mildly. “It’s hardly a secret.”
Thalia bit her lower lip. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Christian had led the children a little further down the hill to where a large, flat boulder provided a decent playing surface. Carefully, he upended the bag.
Even for Thalia, who had never played marbles, she could tell that these were good ones. Some were clear, some opaque, some slightly larger than others, but all were polished to a gleam.
It had apparently been decided that the marbles would be divided up amongst them. Christian sat back on his heels, watching the children arrange the marbles. As if sensing eyes on him, he glanced up, meeting Thalia’s gaze.
That heat made her shiver, an aching knot in her belly that refused to go away. She turned away from his impenetrable gaze.
“Let me help with the food, Mabel,” she murmured.
Mabel cast her an odd look. “Aren’t you going to talk to His Grace? My Lady, I don’t mean to overstep, but it is plain that he likes you. And… well, any woman would want to marry a man like that.”
And yet he chose you. That is what she means to say.
But he hasn’t chosen me. This is all a ploy. I don’t intend to marry anyone, and I won’t marry Christian. Which relieves me, really. Very much so.
Thalia cleared her throat. “We shall see, Mabel.”
“Of course, My Lady.”
The game of marbles took about half an hour, after which the children came thundering up the hill, faces alight.
“Look, look, Lady Thalia!” Sophia exclaimed. “We won! And Christian said that we could keep all the marbles we won. I got lots!”
“So did I,” Nicholas chimed in, beaming.
All three of them clustered close, showing off their marbles.
“Impressive,” Thalia remarked, placing her hands on her hips and shooting Christian an arch look. “It seems like each of you managed to win exactly a third of the marbles. What a stroke of luck.”
“Most fortuitous,” Christian agreed.
Alex paused, glancing up at him. He worried his lower lip between his teeth.
“It doesn’t seem very fair that Christian should lose all of his marbles,” he mumbled.
Drawing in a breath and steeling himself, he thrust out his own handful of marbles.
“Here, you can have mine back. I’ll share Sophia’s and Nicholas’s. ”
The other two eyed him with chagrin.
“I suppose so,” Sophia sighed, and Nicholas reluctantly agreed.
Christian blinked down at the earnest little boy holding out his marbles. “You won those,” he reminded him.
“Yes, we did, but you don’t have any left,” Alex pointed out. “We didn’t know you were going to be so bad at marbles. So, you should take mine.”
Christian swallowed hard. “That is kind of you,” he said. “But I’m not very fond of marbles. Here, I shall take one back.” He leaned forward and took one pure red marble. “I shall take this one.”
Alex frowned. “Just one?”
“Of course. If I ever decide to win back my fortune of marbles, I only need one. And this is red, my favorite color. I shall keep it, and you can have the rest of your winnings.” Christian slipped the red marble into his pocket, not quite meeting Thalia’s eyes.
Alex eyed him uncertainly, then turned away, apparently deciding that he was serious.
Christian stood very still, a faint line between his eyebrows.
Mabel began to serve the food, and Thalia, against her better judgment, inched closer to Christian.
“Alex is an exceptionally kind boy,” she murmured. “He shares everything. To be fair, all three of them are generous. It’s a pity they haven’t families of their own.”
“Yes, I agree. A pity.”
Folding her arms, Thalia cast a wry sideways look at him. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Well, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here? It can’t be an accident. Nobody is promenading at this hour, and you brought those marbles. The same marbles that you lost so easily.”
“They won those marbles fair and square,” Christian responded stoutly.
“Hmph. Remind me not to play marbles with you in earnest.”
He glanced down at her, eyes dark and unreadable.
“If you must know, I did know that you were here. Your brother complains about your ‘charitable work’ a good deal and offers many details. I overheard him talking in a club about your habit of taking orphans out for a picnic lunch several times a month.”
Thalia flushed hotly. “He has nothing to complain about. I use my allowance after all.”
Christian’s gaze sharpened. “Your brother doesn’t contribute?”
“Contribute? Ha! Jonathan is the sort who doesn’t approve of charity.
He thinks that if people are poor, it is their own fault.
That, by the way, is nonsense. We, for instance, inherited our money.
We did not work for it or earn it. It simply came to us, a matter of birth and luck.
It follows then that others might be unlucky, both in birth and in life. ”
“I agree. Well, Lady Thalia, this brings me nicely to the purpose of this little visit. I would like to help.”
Thalia blinked.
Help? Oh. He didn’t come here to see me, of course. I was rather stupid to think otherwise.
She didn’t let herself dwell on that thought. If Christian wanted to patronize the orphanage, he could do a world of good. Two, three, a thousand times more than she could. If there was a prickle of jealousy following that thought, what of it? She was only human.
Breathing in, Thalia turned to face him. “You wish to patronize St. Sarah’s?”
“If they’ll accept my help.” He shrugged.
“They will,” she said firmly. “Speak to Sister Abigail; she’s in charge. There is a great deal that needs to be done.”
He cleared his throat. “Ah, my time is a little rare at the moment. I’d rather hoped I could donate money. Is that considered lazy?”
“No. No, it is not. As I said, speak to her. She’ll explain better than I could.
And for what it is worth, it’s the most noble enterprise, no matter how much you donate or how much time you spend.
The children need more help than we know.
Why, only the other day, their birthday celebrations…
” she trailed off as movement caught her eye.
A tall, slim, and remarkably beautiful young woman in a riding dress was striding up the hillside towards them. Rich golden-brown hair streamed behind her, a striking counterpoint to her burgundy dress and nut-brown eyes.
Miss Emmeline Hartridge, Thalia realized with a sinking feeling in her gut. She recognized her, but they had never been introduced before.
Emmeline was one of the richest heiresses in London and one of the most scandalous. If she wasn’t a member of such an old and respected family, she might well have been cast out by now.
In short, she was a tremendously beautiful, wealthy, and interesting woman.
Somehow, I don’t think that it’s me she’s coming to see.
“Your Grace!” Emmeline called, her rich voice shimmering up over the hillside. She always sounded on the brink of laughter. “What a surprise to see you here at this hour.”
Christian blinked down at her. “Miss Hartridge,” he greeted. “What a surprise, indeed.”
He didn’t sound particularly welcoming, but that didn’t seem to deter her.
She reached the top of the hill and cast her gaze over the scene.
Her expression did not change when she glanced over Mabel and the children, but there was a distinct wrinkle in her nose when she met Thalia’s eyes. At once, she turned away.
Naturally, since they hadn’t been introduced, Emmeline was well within her rights to pretend that Thalia did not exist. She faced Christian, neatly turning her slender, burgundy-silk-clad back on Thalia.
“I did not see you at Mrs. Rutherford’s last night,” she murmured, her voice low and intimate. “It isn’t like you to miss a party at Rosings.”
“I am sorry that you missed me.”
“Well, you must have an explanation,” Emmeline continued, fluttering her eyelashes. At least, she sounded as though she were fluttering her eyelashes. “Come, Your Grace, have you no excuse for me? It isn’t proper to upset a lady.”
That is quite enough. I won’t be made to feel small and in the way at my own picnic, Thalia thought with a rush of annoyance.
She pointedly stepped around Emmeline, coming to stand beside Christian. Keeping a polite smile, she glanced between the two of them, eyebrows raised.
Introduce me, her expression hopefully demanded.
Christian cleared his throat. “Miss Hartridge, may I introduce Lady Thalia Hamilton. Lady Thalia, this is Miss Emmeline Hartridge.”
Emmeline all but scowled. Now that they were introduced, it would be much harder for her to ignore Thalia.
“Charmed,” she said crisply.
Liar, Thalia wanted to say.
“We’re having a picnic, Miss Hartridge,” she said, as pleasantly as she could. “Why don’t you join us?”
Emmeline cast a disgusted look at the food spread out on the picnic blanket.
Admittedly, there was not much left, only crumbs.
Mabel had begun to put away the plates, and soon enough, it would be time to go back to the orphanage.
The children sat on the ground, staring up at Emmeline with wide eyes.
Sophia’s gaze lingered on Emmeline’s dress particularly. At first glance, the gown seemed plain, but closer inspection revealed red beads cunningly sewn into a thick line around the hem and at the bodice, making the dress glitter in the light.
Almost as if drawn by magnetism, Sophia leaned forward, hands outstretched to touch the heavy silk. Her fingers had barely made contact before Emmeline whisked her skirts away and rounded on the girl with a glare.
“Good heavens!” she snapped. “Weren’t you taught not to touch what isn’t yours? This dress costs more than you’ll ever earn in your life, girl, and you had better pray that your grubby fingers have not left a mark.”
Tears welled up in Sophia’s eyes, and she recoiled. Alex threw his arms around her at once, while Nicholas slid protectively between her and Emmeline.
“I… I am sorry…” she stammered.
“It was an accident,” Thalia heard herself say.
Emmeline did not seem to hear her and continued glaring at the girl.
“Who on earth is this child?” she asked no one in particular.
“I’m… I’m from St. Sarah’s…” Sophia stuttered.
Emmeline snorted. “I should have known.”
A cold tide of fury welled up inside Thalia, intense enough to make her vision momentarily redden. She stepped in front of Emmeline. They were more or less the same height, forcing Emmeline to look directly into her eyes.
“If you ever speak to one of my charges in this manner again,” she hissed, “I will tear each one of those ridiculous beads off your dress with my own hands, and then I will shove them down your throat. How does that sound, Miss Hartridge?”
For a moment, Emmeline stared at her, eyes huge, jaw hanging slack. It made her look exceptionally ridiculous, her beauty dimming for a moment. Then she gave an incredulous huff, her gaze sliding up and down Thalia’s admittedly unimpressive sprigged muslin gown, and turned to Christian.
“I must say, Your Grace, I am surprised to find you here, and in such… company. Your standards have certainly dipped of late. We must find a way to remedy that.”
Christian’s face darkened. He opened his mouth to speak, but in that moment, Thalia realized that she had had enough. She spun on her heel, catching Mabel’s eye.
The clever maid had thankfully packed up everything in those few tense minutes, and the hamper was ready to go. Orange curled up watchfully in Sophia’s arms, allowing the little girl to nuzzle his fur.
“We are going,” Thalia declared crisply. “Come along, children.”
Usually, the children complained and begged when an outing came to an end. This time, however, they obeyed wordlessly, scrambling to their feet. It broke Thalia’s heart, just a little.
She did not allow herself to look at Christian. She only said as she turned away, “I shall leave you to converse with your friend, Your Grace.”
As she strode away, she heard Emmeline give a huff of laughter.
“I had heard that she was a wallflower, but now it seems that she’s a shrieking banshee. I am not sure which is worse. What do you think, Your Grace?”
Tightening her jaw, Thalia marched on faster, determined to get out of earshot.