Chapter Ten #2
“Petrified,” Miss Whitchurch admitted, and Benjamin realized he had known such fears when he had come to stay with Duncan.
At least he had had four young boys to show him the way.
Miss Whitchurch had no one, not even the sister she had attempted to save.
“I only have four more days to locate Cassandra. Mrs. Holland has demanded I leave with the child when my current tenancy expires.”
“I can honestly say neither my son nor I will permit you to be turned out upon the streets,” Duncan declared in that no nonsense tone that few dared to deny.
Tears returned to the lady’s eyes, but she did not look away from Duncan. “I could not ask it of you, my lord.”
“You did not ask; my family has volunteered,” Duncan corrected.
“As I see it, you have two choices. You and the child may come and live with me at Duncan Place, just as Lord Orson’s betrothed did when her parents were still in Europe and before their marriage.
” Benjamin noted how Duncan omitted the fact that Lady Emma had been brutally attacked on the streets of Covent Garden, and he worried that Duncan was jumping the gun about a betrothal, but he kept his comments to himself.
“Or you may choose to live in the house attached to this one. Just you and the child.”
“Does Lord Thompson own the adjoining house?” Miss Whitchurch asked with a lift of her eyebrows that spoke of skepticism.
“I imagine he does,” Duncan responded with a grin, for he had led the woman right where he wanted her to be.
“My son owns this whole row of houses, along with several other such establishments. He is quite ingenuous in that manner. Our Benjamin wishes for all of humanity, not just the aristocracy, to live comfortably.”
“Would not people speak harshly regarding my acceptance of his lordship’s kindness?” she asked while eyeing Benjamin from the corner of her eye.
“Well, you see,” Duncan began, “I have no doubt, despite my son practicing care, people saw him carry you into his house. But, let us say, Thompson carried you into his house because he no longer has the key to the adjoining one. You took a terrible fall, after all.”
The lady stared at Duncan as if his lordship had grown an additional head. “Everyone will know I cannot afford such an establishment.”
“Everyone knows,” Duncan corrected, “that Thompson has not let the adjoining house, for he prefers his privacy; yet, you are a family friend or even a distant cousin. Both your fathers are vicars. Trust me, most of England’s gentry, as well as the aristocracy are related in some manner.
Society will believe what you tell them, as long as you tell them something they wish to hear.
Most of the haut ton know that our Benjamin has a kind heart so it would be expected of him to assist someone who requires his attention. ”
“But I cannot afford such a house,” she argued.
“The house is not finished,” Benjamin rushed to say because he would not mind keeping the lady close.
He knew she was truly not prepared for life in London, though she had given it her all.
“The rooms are not completely furnished. Only three have furniture, and the pieces are mismatched. I use the house more as storage than for living purposes. You could still work for Mr. Sustar, and Mrs. Sullivan would remain available for the boy. Pay what you do for your current room, if you deem it necessary to pay your way.”
“What my son is attempting to say is your choices are few, Miss Whitchurch. At least, you would have someone to assist you until you might find your sister and make appropriate plans for the child’s care.
The boy is the most important thing in your decision, not your pride.
” Duncan paused before he asked, “Did Titan provide you the name of the inn where you think your sister has taken employment?”
“Yes,” she said. “It was The Red Rooster.”
“Might you agree to permit me to call at the inn to learn whether your sister is employed there? I promise to ask all the necessary questions. You might even write down what you wish to know, and I will speak for you. That area is not meant for a lady of quality to be traveling alone, especially if you must also carry the child with you. You would be at a great disadvantage there.”
“But Cassandra would be in that area,” Miss Whitchurch protested. “Should I be concerned for her?”
“The inn will provide her a room and all her meals,” Duncan spoke of what society would understand.
“Actually, when you consider the facts, your sister would be in a better position to tend her own son than you will be when your landlady evicts you. My son’s offer is superior in that manner.
The boy will want for nothing under Thompson’s watch.
He will not permit the child, or you, for that matter, to suffer. ”
“I suppose I could walk a few extra miles if it would secure the child’s safety,” she ventured. “That is if Lord Thompson has no regrets. And I would be presenting you my rents, my lord. No free luxuries.”
“No regrets whatsoever,” Benjamin said. He stood then, before she could change her mind. “We will permit you to rest. Tomorrow, if you will permit it, I will see you to your current residence to gather your belongings.”
“You will?” the lady asked tentatively.
“If you prefer, I could send you with a servant,” he responded. The lady’s stubbornness knew no limits.
“That would draw less attention,” she observed. “I am truly grateful to you both, my lords. The child will know no more harm.”
Their gazes met, and her eyes widened. Benjamin was not confident that she was as aware of him as he was of her. “Will a small trunk and a valise be too much?” she asked.
“Pack whatever you have. If it does not fit, a courier will retrieve it for you,” he instructed.
His lordship held out his hand to her. Victoria knew the extension of his hand was a gesture of politeness—a sign of their bargain.
Nothing more. For the briefest of moments, she hesitated, but she quickly relented by placing her hand in his.
Without gloves, awareness of the gentleman crept up her arm.
It amazed her how their hands appeared to be perfectly matched.
Reluctantly, her eyes met his. Their gazes met and held as tangibly as did their hands. Instinctively, her eyes swept downward. She could not give herself any hope of more than a touch of humanity from a man who followed his own agenda in regards to assisting his fellow man. Or woman, in her case.
Having seen Lords Duncan and Thompson out, Victoria turned and looked at the lovely room where he had brought her.
Though she knew Cheapside was assuredly not Mayfair, the room represented the man’s position in society.
“Discretion, ever the most well-known part of valor, suggests instead of agreeing to the gentleman’s offer, I should make a hasty retreat,” she told the empty room.
“I pray I am not making another error, but the reality is I cannot return home to Hampshire with Cassandra’s child nor could I consider leaving the boy in an orphanage.
It would be as if I gave away my heart, and such would haunt me for the remainder of my days. ”
Victoria glanced at her trembling fingers. “I cannot think of myself in the role of the Cinder Maid,” she reasoned. “Instead, I must manage it all without being beholden to anyone.”
She sat heavily in the chair beside the tea table.
“I permitted Lord Duncan to tell me what to do. The man assuredly has an air of authority about him. Drats! I truly do not appreciate someone arranging my life—dismissing my concerns about propriety. Though, in truth, what little I know of society, the haut ton, as they are often called, appear to believe whatever they are told. I suppose a distant cousin relationship could be possible. More importantly, the move shall not be permanent. Just long enough for me to locate Cassandra and to find another set of rooms.”
“Why was Lord Thompson so insistent?” Victoria said aloud. “Is it wrong of me to accept what he is offering?”
The independent streak that everyone claimed as part of her spine announced that she was only doing what was best for the boy.
“I am strong enough to tolerate the inconvenience, but I cannot punish the child, for he is the innocent one in all this. Whether that is ladylike or not is up for interpretation.”
“In the meantime—thanks to Lord Thompson’s mix of charity and authority, I have time to reconsider and reorganize my life and my responsibilities to Cassandra’s child. I have time to breathe.”
Even as she presented herself reasons to take advantage of his lordship’s charity, Victoria feared she had just made the most momentous decision of her life.
“Or should I say, that two gentlemen of society, along with my wayward sister, have made it for me,” she whispered to the silence in the room.
She looked about the lovely room where she would sleep this evening. Whether she liked it or not, and she did not like it, there was something about Lord Thompson, as if he could see into her soul at a time she would prefer to be invisible, especially to a handsome gentleman.
Victoria wished there was some means for her to return to the vicarage and have her mother fuss over her, just as she always did when Victoria came home from Bath.
However, there was no “home” to which to retreat.
Maybe never again. Her parents could not accept Mr. Betts’s illegitimate child and maintain what dignity they might still know among their neighbors.
“Which means I cannot return home. If I must choose between the child and my Hampshire life, I will choose the child,” she whispered to the room and herself.
“One must move forward,” she reasoned. “Why could Lord Betts not simply have accepted the match between his son and Cassandra? My sister would have learned how things among the aristocracy occurred, just as must Mr. Betts. She would have been a baroness and known the pleasures of the peerage, the fairy tale my sister coveted all her life. She would not have caused Mr. Betts trouble, as long as he had treated her with some kindness now and then. Jonas Betts could have left her in the country and still enjoyed his London life. Now neither my sister nor the baby will have an easy future.”