Chapter 17 #2
She caught herself worrying her hands and set them firmly in her lap. “Are you aware there have been thefts in the village?”
His gaze sharpened to a razor’s edge. “No. When? What sorts of things?”
“Small things, mostly portable and worth little, often food. And it’s been going on for about a fortnight.”
He cocked his head. “Someone hungry? Who’s out of work? Father ill?”
“No one Hugh knew,” Georgie confessed. “All of the people around Tyneham have decent income, thanks to the estate and its custom, and we’ve taken pains to see to the medical and sustenance needs of those who are ailing even if we have no physician.”
“A problem I plan to rectify.” His fingers rubbed idly against each other in front of him. “Someone too proud to beg?”
“Perhaps,” Georgie allowed. “But I can’t think who. And there’s more. Mrs. Carmichael and Mr. Kinsle tell me someone has robbed the manor.”
His face darkened. “Why wasn’t this brought to my attention?”
“I suppose I’m to blame there,” Georgie said, hands clasping. “They explained the issue to me earlier, but I wanted time to gather information before bringing the matter to you. I’d rather hoped I could bring you a solution, not just a concern.”
His smile was sad. “It appears to be the duke’s duty to solve all concerns, my dear. What was taken from the manor?”
“A figurine from the sculpture gallery—you remember the Grecian water bearer?”
He nodded. “Lovely piece.”
“And worse,” Georgie continued, “money Mr. Kinsle and Maisy were saving.”
His jaw tightened, and it struck her that she had never seen him angry. He looked rather formidable.
“Tell them I will match what was taken,” Max said. “They should not have to bear the cost of this. And I promise you, I will look into the matter and hold the culprit responsible, whoever it is.”
* * *
Hugh was more careful to watch over Pip on Friday, but he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
He asked Mrs. Hallet to inventory the kitchen and house while he checked the church and outbuildings.
She found nothing more missing, and he found nothing stashed or even a spot that looked as if it had recently been cleaned out.
Yet this time, Hugh couldn’t be sanguine about the matter. If Pip wasn’t the culprit, someone else in the village or the manor was stealing. Having been so successful in evading capture, what was to stop that person from stealing again? And the longer this went on, the more resentment would grow.
He was struggling to focus on his sermon in the study that afternoon, King Saul on the rug chewing on a bone. Across the room, bent over a sketchpad Oliver had given him, Pip heaved a sigh.
Hugh glanced over. So did King Saul. Pip was scowling down at the paper, tipping his head from side to side as if that might bring the picture into better focus.
“Drawing not going to your liking?” Hugh asked.
Pip shoved the book away. “Doesn’t look anything like King Saul. Doesn’t look anything like anything! I don’t know how Oliver does it.”
As if he felt Pip’s pain, the pug scurried to the boy’s side.
“Oliver has had more practice,” Hugh pointed out, setting his quill into the stand. “He’s also been tutored by his father, an architect who knows something about drawing.”
Pip perked up. “Do you know something about drawing?”
King Saul turned in a circle in front of him, and Pip absently patted him on the head, gaze on Hugh.
“Nothing useful, I’m afraid,” he said with a chuckle. “The few times I tried, the lines didn’t look like anything either. And the Bluecoat School tended to discourage drawing over more practical pursuits.”
Pip frowned. “What’s a blue coat school?”
“A school in London for children of impoverished means.” When Pip’s frown deepened, Hugh continued.
“Poor children, like us. The day you start, the registrar records your name and gives you a new set of clothes—a long blue coat that’s fairly close-fitting, a yellow underskirt, yellow stockings, and a worsted cap.
We all wore those, every day, until we graduated. ”
Pip stared at him. “They made you wear a skirt!”
King Saul yipped as if just as scandalized.
“Among the lords and ladies of London, children often wear skirts until they’re around six years old or even later. Then the boys get short trousers and eventually long.”
Pip shook his head. “No wonder you’re all so odd.”
Hugh raised a brow. King Saul grinned.
“Not you, guvnor,” Pip hurried to assure Hugh.
It appeared he’d been demoted. “So, I’m your governor again, am I?”
“Well, I realized I hadn’t asked your permission,” Pip said, dropping his gaze and busying himself with petting the pug, who huffed happily. “You might not want me to call you Father.”
Hugh eyed the bowed head. “You honored me above all measure. I simply don’t know whether I have it in me to live up to such a name.”
Pip hopped off the chair and dashed around the desk, King Saul scrambling at his heels. “You do! You’d make a great father! I’d do my best to be a good son.”
Hugh put a hand on his shoulder. “You already are.”
“Then, that’s it?” Pip asked, searching his face. “You’re my da, and I’m your boy?”
King Saul barked his approval.
“It’s probably not that simple in the eyes of the law,” Hugh explained with a smile to them both, “but here, in Tyneham, yes. I’ll speak to the duke’s man of business to see if he knows how to make it more official.”
Pip drew in a deep breath. “Thanks. So, what about that mother, then?”
Hugh laughed. “Let’s take it one step at a time.”
“We can’t wait,” Pip urged. “Her father has his eye on the duke.”
Hugh started. “What?”
The word must have sounded as if Hugh had sang it, for King Saul obligingly sat, watching expectantly.
“I saw the way that colonel glanced between them,” Pip said, “and he keeps doing things that would make the duke notice her. If you want to marry Her Grace the Second, you have to put yourself forward.”
Though the idea that the colonel was intent on matching Georgie to His Grace was enough to drive Hugh mad, he could not help teasing the boy. “Know so much about chasing after fair lady, do you?”
“I know a lot of things about a lot of things,” Pip said archly. “What could we do to catch her eye?”
“I think we have her attention,” Hugh said, remembering the way she’d looked at him over the piano.
“It’s not enough,” Pip insisted as King Saul gave up and wandered back to his bone.
“What do they do around here for fun? If we were in London, I’d say we’d take her on a jaunt around Hyde Park.
Some fellows even go out on the Serpentine with their ladies.
I’ve held their horses while they were rowing about. ”
“There’s a thought,” Hugh said. He hadn’t done much by way of sweeping Georgie off her feet, after all. “The reflecting pond in front of the manor is large enough for a bit of a row. I wonder if the duke has a boat we could use?”
Pip grabbed his hand. “Let’s find out.”