Chapter Ten
Benjamin and Duncan entered Macalhey House together. Mr. Patterson greeted them, but both men refused the offer of drinks and a meal. “Mrs. Gabriel reports the young lady ate from the plate sent up to her and spoke to the child’s wet nurse, my lord.”
“Such is good to hear,” Benjamin acknowledged, but he directed Duncan towards the stairs. “Are you well enough for the stairs, sir? I should have thought…”
“I am not about to run up them,” Duncan responded, “but I can manage a set or two.”
Benjamin stayed at Duncan’s side, prepared to assist, if required. Privately, he hoped Duncan could convince Miss Whitchurch to accept assistance.
“In here, sir,” Benjamin said when they reached the first of the guest quarters.
“Could not carry her farther?” Duncan teased.
“I could if it had been necessary, sir,” Benjamin defended himself.
“I have no doubt.” Duncan grinned knowingly and tapped on the door.
“Come,” her voice called out.
Benjamin followed Duncan into the room. His heart knew gratitude to view the lady sitting in a chair and enjoying a cup of tea. Her dress was crumpled, but her pride was on full display when she rose to greet him, executing a perfect curtsey.
“It is good to view you up and about,” he said. “You worried me greatly, Miss Whitchurch.”
“I do apologize, my lord. I assuredly did not mean to impose on you,” she said with downcast eyes, which irritated Benjamin more than words could express. One of the things he admired about her was her strength of character.
Benjamin said, “I brought Lord Macdonald Duncan to claim your acquaintance. I spoke previously of Lord Duncan’s role in my life and that of both Lords Orson and Beaufort, as well as Mr. Hartley, when we last met.”
“Of course,” she said with another curtsey. “A very magnanimous gesture, my lord.”
“Just a means to honor my late wife,” Duncan said with a slight frown. Duncan never enjoyed the praise bestowed upon him for his service to Great Britain or to his sons.
“Please, let us sit together.” Benjamin moved a chair to a place before her for Duncan, while Benjamin sat slightly behind Duncan on the edge of the bed.
Duncan, as was customary, claimed the lead. “Our Lord Thompson has spoken of you to me previously of how you two first met in the rain, and both Beaufort and Orson were complimentary after taking your acquaintance.”
Miss Whitchurch blushed. “It was assuredly a blessing when I took Lord Thompson’s acquaintance on that rainy day, nor would I have ever managed the three hours’ walk back to my room today without his lordship’s kindness. I am quite ashamed to have caused Lord Thompson so much trouble.”
“Trust me, Miss Whitchurch, Thompson is likely the most selfless of my sons,” Duncan declared. “As such, Thompson has asked me, in my role at the Home Office, to assist you. I understand your call upon the Lyon’s Den today was to locate your sister. Might you consider confiding in me?”
She glanced at Benjamin before saying, “My first instinct is to deny your offer, my lord, but my father would say I should not deny any true offers of assistance, simply to feed my pride.”
“Your father sounds like a man I would be pleased to know,” Duncan responded in that particular tone that always elicited trust and cooperation. “Might I know his name?”
“Mr. Rutland Whitchurch,” she said with a lift of her shoulders in preparation for a shrug, but she did not execute it.
“I fear I have not had the opportunity to claim Mr. Whitchurch’s acquaintance, but my assistant, Mr. Hartley, says his father spoke highly of him,” Duncan said as he led the lady into placing her trust in him.
Benjamin had viewed Duncan doing so previously, but he had never properly appreciated Duncan’s skills before this day.
“My father would be humbled by your kindness, my lord,” Miss Whitchurch said as tears misted her eyes.
“Might you tell me how you and your sister came to London?” Duncan asked softly.
Her tears remained, and Benjamin rose briefly to hand her his handkerchief.
“In December last year, I received a letter from my father, who is not a letter writer, so you can imagine my apprehension upon receiving it. In it, he explained how he and my mother had been removed from his position, and they had moved into my late maternal grandfather’s house in the village.
They had been ordered by Lord Betts to remove themselves from the vicarage my father has lived in for nearly twenty years. ”
“Which Lord Betts?” Duncan asked.
“Lord Harold Betts in Hampshire,” she supplied.
Benjamin noted the slight snarl of Duncan’s nose. Betts and Duncan often butted heads in Parliament, but Duncan made no comment beyond asking his next question. “I am assuming your father’s letter has something to do with your presence in London. Might you explain, Miss Whitchurch?”
The lady shot a quick glance to Benjamin before saying, “My younger sister Cassandra had accepted the attention of Mr. Jonas Betts, who promised her marriage, but…” She broke off to dab her eyes again before saying, “Cassandra always thought herself suited for the great house.”
“As your father is of the gentry, the future baron could have extended his hand to Miss Cassandra.” Duncan’s voice carried his strong dislike for such high-spirited behavior. “I assume the child you have been tending to in your sister’s absence belongs to Miss Cassandra and Mr. Betts.”
“Yes, sir,” she said as she lowered her head in apparent shame, though it was nothing Miss Whitchurch had executed.
“It is too bad Lord Betts did not promote the match,” Duncan observed. “The barony would have had an heir.” Duncan sighed heavily, and Benjamin knew his lordship regretted that the Duncan earldom would go to another line of the family tree. “Might you explain where your sister can be found now?”
Miss Whitchurch frowned, but she responded nevertheless.
“When I arrived in London, Cassandra was living in less than desirable quarters. I found a room to share in a respectable boarding house. According to my parents, Cassandra was somewhere along five months in January, but I cannot say with any certainty if that is accurate, for my parents are going by what Cassandra told them. She could have been a bit more or a bit less. I do not imagine she had considered the ramifications of her choices nor was it only once that she laid with Mr. Betts. Initially, she was excited to claim a position and support the child. Initially, we were both employed at Mr. Sustar’s shop, but Cassandra spent too much time talking to the men employed in the shop.
Sustar released her, but I remained, as well as spending a day or two per week at a nearby lending library.
We rarely saw each other. One day I came home and all her belongings were gone.
She left a letter to tell me she had learned of a position in Whitehall.
“Not knowing London well, it took me a long time—longer than it should have to determine she meant to seek employment at the Lyon’s Den.
When I encountered Lord Thompson and the others near the Lyon’s Den, I had called upon the establishment’s mistress.
” She looked at him. “I apologize, my lord. I saw you leave the lady’s office with another man who proved to be Mr. Hartley, but I did not make myself known to you, for I did not wish you to see me inside a gaming hell.
I cherished your kindness on that day in the rain and how you handled Mr. Sustar, and I did not want you to think poorly of me. ”
Benjamin nodded his acceptance of her apology, and though there were a hundred things he wished to discuss with her, he permitted the lady to continue her explanation.
“Mrs. Dove-Lyon had refused Cassandra’s bid for employment, but she did say another woman had offered my sister a position as a domestic.
That would have been in mid-February or early March.
I know Cassandra worked as such for a period, for there was a letter in the bottom of the child’s basket telling me she had worked at a great house for over a month.
Supposedly, Cassandra’s employer learned something of her condition and released her.
She would have been between seven and eight months at the time. ”
“When did she leave the child with you?” Duncan asked.
“Nearly five weeks prior,” Miss Whitchurch explained.
“I came home in the early morning hours from working overnight for Mr. Sustar, and there was the child sleeping in a basket. No Cassandra. Only a letter, which I did not read until the following day. I have been working overnight for several months creating special orders for, first, Lady Cunningham, and then several of her ladyship’s friends.
Mr. Sustar has hired three different girls who rotate their positions, but they do the hemming while I complete the embroidery work.
Mr. Sustar does not want the women in his shop with the young men he employs.
The Sustars only initially tolerated me in the shop, for Mrs. Sustar is also the daughter of a clergyman. ”
“What of the child?” Benjamin asked. “What do you do with him when you are at work?”
“He goes with me. I do all I may to keep him quiet at the shop and at the boarding house. Neither Mr. Sustar nor Mrs. Holland will tolerate the noise of a crying baby. Fortunately, he is generally a curious baby and is fascinated with the shadows created by the candlelight or a small sack of hard seeds I created to entertain him.”
“You appear to be instinctive on how to tend to the child,” Duncan remarked.
“Before coming to London, I worked at a school for girls in Bath. I simply recalled what soothed some of the younger girls. None of them were as young as a newborn, but some of them had never been away from their parents and were quite frightened.”
“Are you not frightened, Miss Whitchurch?” Duncan asked sagely.