Chapter 17 #2
That reply had the gratifying ring of ineffective self-comfort. “In all modesty, I must remind you that I am a busy woman. If you will inspire the girls to make their final farewells to Gabriella, I will see her personally onto the westbound stage.”
The moment became gratifying. Mrs. Dumfries had no personal shortcomings or missteps that could be exploited, but she was genuinely devoted to her charges.
Simple enough to threaten the whole institution, such that allowing one little lamb into the worldly wilderness took on the patina of a sensible solution.
A necessary compromise offered by an ally.
“You vouch for these people?”
“I have known the vicar’s wife for ages. Our husbands were well acquainted earlier in life.” True in a sense. They’d both attended Oxford and had some acquaintances in common.
“The girls still have five minutes,” Mrs. Dumfries said, shifting to peer out the window.
“Let’s keep our word to them in that regard, shall we?
As your ladyship knows, they turn into little barristers when adults break promises.
Some fellow is going to get himself killed galloping down that track. ”
Lady Josephine joined her at the window. “Late to market, perhaps, though putting a valuable animal at risk like that is most irresponsible…”
A frisson of unease crept down Lady Josephine’s spine and curled into a cold knot in her belly.
She knew that horseman, or had known his earlier incarnation.
As a youth, Cam had ridden like a demon, pushed himself to enormous feats of equestrian skill, and won any number of horseback races.
Surely a sober and mature Camden would not…
The horse galloped on, gradually descending the hill as the track wound lower.
“Let’s see what’s keeping the girls, shall we?” Lady Josephine said, moving briskly toward the door. “One little locket is not worth throwing away the chance of a lifetime, and you can send it on later if it should turn up. I will happily post the package myself.”
What saved Cam at least three times was Galahad’s lack of condition. The horse was fit in a general sense, but not in peak form. He lacked that little extra edge of energy necessary to bolt, to take the dangerous long spot over a stile, to ignore a check on the reins when the track changed pitch.
Cam clung on, barely, his biceps and thighs burning as Farnes Crossing came into view at the foot of the ridge.
“Another half mile,” he muttered as Galahad plunged along the glorified goat track that passed as a bridle path. “That’s her ladyship’s coach, and by God, she means evil this day.”
Galahad was tiring, but game. He’d taken every fence, ditch, and hedge Cam had put him to. The horse had forgiven clumsy steering, his rider’s occasionally unsteady balance, and an undignified clutch on his mane all without slowing.
“Galahad,” Cam said, giving the reins enough of a tug to slow the horse to a canter. Would not do to come a cropper a quarter mile from the finish.
Lady Josephine emerged from the orphanage, half dragging a small, red-haired child by the hand.
The girl was putting up a fight, and all the other denizens of the institution were filing out onto the front steps to watch the drama.
An old fellow pushing a wheelbarrow across the yard stopped his progress, and a dozen sheep went on the alert.
“One last leap,” Cam said, sinking his weight into his heels and getting a firm hold of Galahad’s mane. “Get me over that fence, horse, and we’ll forget you ever bit anybody.”
The beast knew his job. He increased his speed slightly, aimed squarely for the stone wall encircling the orphanage’s yard, cleared the obstacle with a mighty leap, and pounded on past clothes lines full of flapping laundry.
Cam hauled hard on the reins and got some curvetting and prancing as the horse deigned to trot, then walk.
“Well done.” He thumped Galahad on the neck as the gelding stood, head down, sides heaving. “You earned your oats this day and then some.”
The old fellow had abandoned his barrow and was advancing on Cam in a purposeful, uneven stride.
“I’ll be walking yon horse, young fool. That is no example to set for t’ children. Shame upon ye, and them poor dears already beyond upset.” He ran up stirrup irons and loosened the girth, muttering in broad Yorkshire accents all the while.
“Thank you,” Cam said. “His name is Galahad. I’m Lorne, and I’m upset too.” He marched off to the present scene of the drama.
Beside Lady Josephine’s coach, an embarrassed footman seemed to be puzzling over how to pick up a child who could bite, scratch, kick, and keen more fiercely than a robust barn cat. Lady Josephine grasped the girl by the wrist, and her grip had to hurt.
“Do not,” Cam said, “touch that child. Lady Josephine, step away from her.”
“My lord.” Her ladyship made an attempt at a curtsey while the girl yanked hard against her captor.
“How fortunate that you’re here. Please explain to this creature”—she gave Gabriella’s arm a jerk—“that if she’s to have a smoother path in life, she must leave this charitable institution and accept the opportunity for gainful employment I’ve been able to locate for her. ”
“Josephine Huxley, get your hands off that child, now.”
Either Cam’s tone or the absence of an honorific must have made an impression. Her ladyship turned loose of Gabriella, who immediately darted back three steps.
Cam hunkered down. “Gabriella.”
A terse nod. The girl never took her eyes off Lady Josephine.
“I’m Lord Lorne. You don’t want to leave, do you?”
A vigorous shake of her head. “She was stealing me. Mary said to pretend I could not find my locket and to use the time to run away, but I don’t want to run away. I live here.”
Lady Josephine let out a huffy sigh. “My lord, I must explain the appearances. The child has an unfortunate obstinate streak, and of course, I take responsibility for that, as the orphanage has been one of my causes for ever so long. Mrs. Dumfries and I have had many a discussion regarding the consequences of excessive coddling where the girls are concerned.”
Cam rose and spotted a tall, pretty blonde on the front terrace with the other children. “Mrs. Dumfries is too softhearted?”
Gabriella sidled closer to him.
“My lord, I would never speak ill of one whose motivations are above reproach—far, far above reproach—but in this case, to be painfully blunt—”
“She’s about to lie,” Gabriella said. “The more Lady Josephine apologizes and explains and pretends to be sorry, the more she’s lying.”
Lady Josephine’s hand drew back, and Gabriella huddled against Cam’s waist.
“Try it,” Cam growled. “Please. Strike an honest child when I’m available to hold you accountable for your ungovernable temper.”
Lady Josephine’s hand returned to her side, and for once, she kept her mouth shut.
Cam possessed himself of Gabriella’s hand. “I do believe her ladyship just revealed the truth, Gabriella. An honest child enrages her. This is surely not acceptable in one who calls herself the patroness of this orphanage.”
“Camden, I know not what—”
“I have not given you leave to address me familiarly, madam, and I am out of patience. You have comported yourself disgracefully. You shall not further traumatize these children with needless histrionics. Wait in the coach.”
The footman assumed an eyes-front at-attention stance by the coach door.
Cam addressed the coachman. “She can pound on the roof until it’s in splinters, and your team is not to move. Understand?”
“Aye, milord. We’ll bide until Domesday, if that’s your lordship’s pleasure.”
Lady Josephine turned a glittering, frankly hateful gaze on her only extant nephew. “You forget yourself, young man. Dignity forbids me from explaining the egregious error you are making, but you will regret this.”
Gabriella took a tighter hold on Cam’s hand.
“Get into the coach, your ladyship, and prepare to be held accountable for years of inexcusable behavior.”
“Cam—my lord, the child is illegitimate, and if you knew her provenance, you would understand that the difficult decisions I have made were made for your sake.”
“You’re lying again. Into the coach, now.”
She climbed in, and the footman tipped up the steps and closed the door.
“Do not let her out. No matter what she threatens or promises, do not allow her out of this coach.”
“Aye, milord.”
Cam had been too busy trying to stay in the saddle to think through the next part, but he knew that further dealings with Lady Josephine at that moment would try his temper past all bearing.
He hoisted Gabriella to his hip and strode across the yard, the sheep trotting off at his approach. Galahad, his coat damp with sweat, was toddling laps around the manor house, the old fellow muttering to him as they went.
On the terrace, a knot of girls of varying heights and in uniformly gray dresses crowded around the sole adult in their company.
“Lord Lorne.” The lady curtseyed, and like a breeze riffling across a wheat field, the girls did likewise. “How very lovely to make your acquaintance.”
“You are Mrs. Dumfries?” Cam had seen the name in the ledgers under wages.
“I have that honor. I apologize for the drama.”
“May I get down?” Gabriella asked. “I want my locket.”
“I put it in the dictionary,” one of the taller girls said. “Look in the G’s.”
Gabriella sent a questioning look at the headmistress, who nodded. “And tell Cook we need a pitcher of cider and some biscuits out back. Time to practice our cricket.”
The children disappeared like so many seeds of thistle on the wind.
“What will you do with her ladyship?” Mrs. Dumfries said. “She claimed you wanted to close the orphanage, and Gabriella’s only chance for a better life was placement with a family near Liverpool.”
What Cam wanted was to lay eyes on his intended and assure her that Gabriella was safe. Then he wanted to consign Lady Josephine to a solitary eternity scrubbing steps in the pit.
“The orphanage is safe,” Cam said. “Lady Josephine had arranged for Gabriella to be put in service somewhere in Ireland. I am ashamed to say that she used church connections to plan that horror.”
“A post in service? As a scullery maid or turnspit?” Mrs. Dumfries’s gaze narrowed on the elegant coach at the foot of the drive. “Her ladyship assured me that Gabriella was to be taken in by a vicar and his wife. That she’d have a family of her own…”
Mrs. Dumfries paced off across the terrace, skirts swishing. “Miss Singleton once told me that I must never take what her ladyship says as the truth. Gabriella is right. Lady Josephine lies.”
“What else did Miss Singleton say?”
“That one does not win a confrontation with Lady Josephine.” Mrs. Dumfries marched back to the center of the terrace.
“One asks her ladyship questions, seeks her opinion. ‘My lady, does it strike you as odd that…’ Or, ‘Does your ladyship have any concern about…’ Never disagree with Lady Josephine and constantly offer her subtle flattery. Had it not been for that guidance… My nature is to confront. Had I confronted Lady Josephine today, you would have arrived too late. You’ve met Miss Singleton? The children adore her.”
As do I. “I am engaged to marry her, and if I am not mistaken, that is Miss Singleton in my traveling coach. I am certain that she will want to spend some time with Gabriella.”
“Gabriella holds Miss Singleton in particular esteem, as do I. You are a very fortunate man, my lord. Very fortunate.”
Considering that Mrs. Dumfries was delivering felicitations, her tone was quite stern. Cam smiled at her anyway.
“I know. I am the luckiest of men, and my task and delight shall be to see that my baroness considers herself the most fortunate of women.” He bowed to Mrs. Dumfries and went to greet his bride.