Chapter 1 #2
“Thank you, My Lady,” he said, his tone sickly sweet. “Your generosity knows no bounds. If only all the children in my care could grow up to be as kind as you.”
Edith followed his gaze as he looked down at Tilly.
“Thank her, Tilly,” he growled softly.
The girl flinched, stepping closer to Edith.
“Tilly,” Mr. Talbot hissed. “Show your gratitude to the lady. Now.” He reached for Tilly, but Edith gently pulled the girl behind her.
“You’re frightening her,” she said firmly.
“She is in trouble! Of course, she’s frightened. Yet she remains my charge, and she must learn the consequences of her actions,” Mr. Talbot grunted. “Step away from her.”
“No,” Edith replied. “She is not going anywhere with you.”
“Yes, she is. Step away,” Mr. Talbot growled.
Edith stood firm, feeling Tilly trembling behind her.
“Please… don’t let him take me,” Tilly whispered.
Edith reached behind her and gently squeezed Tilly’s hand.
“Come here this instant!” Mr. Talbot shouted. “If that child wants to leave my care, she must pay her way out first. I think, well, at least ninety pounds should be enough for all the trouble she’s caused.”
“Ninety,” Edith gasped in shock.
There was no way Tilly would be able to make that kind of money before she reached adulthood.
“Besides,” Mr. Brackett chimed in loudly. “She is still a criminal in the eyes of the law, and she is bound to the workhouse and its rules—”
“I followed the rules!” Tilly cried out.
“You set fire to the dormitories, you ungrateful wretch!” Mr. Talbot snarled.
“Our beds are all straw! And you crammed eight of us into rooms that shouldn’t even have four!
” Tilly yelled, stamping her little feet.
“Our beds are squished together, and they touch the fireplace! You said it was nice to have a fireplace, but the coals spit fire! Someone could be burned! It’s not safe! ”
People began to murmur and whisper.
“What a cruel man.”
“I think he should be reported. That girl may be feral, yes, but she’s just a child.”
“He seems drunk on power.”
“Even my dogs are kept better than those children.”
Even though the ton clearly disliked the sight of a common child at their event, for them, cruelty was not a pleasant trait in a man.
“That’s not true! You set them on fire on purpose!” Mr. Talbot snapped back.
“Enough!” Edith cried. “Mr. Talbot, what kind of man would have children sleep on straw? Even servants are afforded better comfort.”
Mr. Talbot glanced around, gulping. “Well—”
“And a fireplace next to beds of straw? It speaks of astonishing carelessness,” Edith added, her voice tight with disbelief.
“My Lady—”
But Edith was not finished. “And then you bring this small girl, who has endured enough hardship already, before Society to chastise her?”
“She ran here! I merely followed to catch her!” Mr. Talbot barked.
“You might have taken her home quietly, rather than turning her scolding into a public spectacle!” Edith shot back.
“I can scarcely imagine your reputation would survive another blow if you were seen dragging her away by force. I’m certain everyone here would make note of such a scene and not let it slide. ”
Mr. Talbot swallowed, his gaze flicking to the onlookers. A ring of well-dressed lords and ladies had gathered, and more than one would no doubt carry the tale to every drawing room and ballroom before the week was out.
“I-I don’t think that’s necessary,” he stammered.
“Good. I don’t either,” Edith said coldly. She hesitated, making calculations in her head before looking back at him. “Besides, I can pay you ninety pounds to have her transferred to my care.”
More gasps rose in the air.
Mr. Talbot sneered. “My Lady, do be serious.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” Edith asked calmly.
“There is no need for you to trouble yourself with this child,” Mr. Talbot insisted.
“And yet I cannot guarantee her safety or well-being if she were to leave with you, Mr. Talbot,” Edith responded. “And you have no reason not to release her to me if I am paying the amount you require.”
“The child legally belongs to Mr. Talbot; he has no reason to renounce that unless he wishes to,” Mr. Brackett hissed.
“And he has demanded ninety pounds for her freedom,” Edith retorted. “Surely he cannot say no when I am offering that money freely.”
Mr. Talbot stopped mid-step, his shoulders stiff. The wind tugged at their coats, and the distant clatter of carriages and footsteps seemed to fade. He regarded her silently, his jaw tight, as if weighing every word against the frigid air between them.
Edith’s hands clenched at her sides, her heart hammering with anticipation.
“Very well,” he sighed at last.
“Mr. Talbot!” Mr. Brackett shouted in indignation. “You do not have to do this; that child is yours. This is hardly a legal agreement!”
“Enough,” Mr. Talbot hissed, aware they were still being watched. “It’s fine, Mr. Brackett. I’m certain the lady can contact my solicitor.”
“People are ever too eager to make the most of its gaps,” Mr. Brackett murmured.
“If it is legal propriety you value, Mr. Brackett, perhaps a magistrate should hear this matter,” Edith said coolly. “I am sure he would find the state of the children’s quarters most enlightening.”
“No!” Mr. Talbot cried, then let out an awkward laugh. “No, no. No need for that, My Lady. We’ve already come to an agreement, have we not?”
“Good, I shall have my solicitor contact you by the week’s end. He will arrange the payment and transfer of custody,” Edith declared, before turning to face Lord Harrington. “And he will also contact you, My Lord, and arrange payment for the statue.”
Lord Harrington nodded, stunned into silence at the scene he had just witnessed. The ton was similarly silenced and watched the final exchange in awe.
“We, uh, shall be taking our leave now. My Lady,” Mr. Talbot said.
“Very well. Tilly will be coming home with me,” Edith stated flatly, eliciting another flurry of whispers.
“Of course, of course.” Mr. Talbot nodded, his tone light and completely devoid of the malice he’d displayed mere moments ago. “Thank you, My Lady. Good day to you.”
Edith nodded tersely in response.
Mr. Talbot backed away and proceeded to scuttle off without casting a second glance at Tilly. Mr. Brackett quickly followed him.
Edith watched their departure for a moment before sighing.
This was not how I had anticipated concluding my day, and now I have a child to care for. A ward.
Her shoulders tightened as a sudden unease crept up her spine, settling into a realization she couldn’t shake.
Two hundred and seventy pounds.
Far and above the budget she had set for the month, let alone for the day. A pit of nausea opened in her stomach as she considered the ramifications.
If I am careful with my finances, or lay off a few servants…
No, she couldn’t do that. She would just have to be careful.
Her projects and plans had to be delayed. The new orphanage she’d been planning to fund would have to wait, as would the donation to the Foundlings Hospital.
As she considered her options, she felt a small squeeze around her hand. She looked down to see Tilly staring up at her.
She let out a shaky breath. It would be fine. She had been in difficult positions before and survived, and she could do it again.
“Come. Let me take you home,” she said softly.
“Home?” Tilly whispered, her eyes wide.
“Yes. You’ll stay with me.”
“Do I… Do I have to scrub floors and make beds, My Lady?”
Edith’s chest tightened, and her heart ached hearing Tilly utter those words, so accustomed to work and worry instead of care and compassion.
“No, Tilly. You’ll be my ward. That means I’ll take care of you now. No cleaning, no workhouse. None of it.”
“Really?” Tilly breathed, staring up at her.
“Really,” Edith said gently, letting her hand brush the girl’s shoulder.
Walking through Hyde Park, Edith could feel the eyes of the onlookers boring into her and hear their whispers as she passed.
She had felt the ton’s judgment before, and had no reason to hang her head now.
“Lady Nealton has lost her senses.”
“She’s taken in a beggar child!”
“What would her late husband say?”
“Such a soft woman!”
“That child will surely be feral.”
Edith felt a soft tug on her sleeve as she walked. She looked down to see Tilly’s big, brown eyes.
“Will they come for me?” Tilly whispered.
Edith’s expression softened. “No, sweetheart, they won’t,” she whispered back. “Not while I draw breath, they won’t.”