Chapter 19
Nineteen
“Miss Robbins, you cannot expect me to say nothing about your bringing two strange children of no account and no family into your own home. They are filthy, they’ve been living on the streets, and they will steal from you and take advantage of you.
I would not be surprised if they attack you in your bed while you sleep. ”
“Mrs. Drake, I will ask you to at least lower your voice if you must say such unkind things.”
“Unkind things?” Mrs. Drake had a look of exasperation on her face.
Millicent stood nearby, seeming almost frightened.
“Miss Robbins, I realize you are young and have not been very much in the world, and heaven knows how you got Lord Brookhaven to go along with you, but it is well-known that these little . . . vermin run around thieving and accosting good people in the streets.”
“Mrs. Drake, they are children. They are not vermin.”
“Well, then, the cast-off, disorderly children no one wants.”
“They need someone to look after them and provide for them. And if my parents had not been able to provide for me, I might have ended up on the street.”
Mrs. Drake huffed out a breath and crossed her arms over her chest. “You are much too innocent for London, Miss Robbins. Much too innocent, but you are not prudent. Next thing we know you’ll be inviting a band of gypsies to dine with us.”
“Mrs. Drake.”
“Forgive me.” She held out her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I shall say no more. But I want you to remember that I was against this scheme from the beginning.”
The only servant who seemed at all happy with my new guests was a motherly kitchen servant named Gretchen, so I elevated her to the position of nursemaid, to help with caring for the children, since the upstairs maid looked horrified when I asked her to watch them a moment while I went to order them a bath drawn.
“You may leave the young ones to me, miss,” Gretchen said. “I had two of my own. They’re grown now, but I remember well the days when they were the age of these ones.”
“Thank you, Gretchen. Please come directly to me if you need anything or have any concerns.”
“Yes, miss, I will.”
It was impossible to explain, but when I thought about the children sleeping in a bed under my own roof, and when I watched them eat heartily, as if they thought the food might disappear at any moment, my heart filled with love, and I couldn’t stop the smile spreading over my face and the tears stinging my eyes.
Perhaps this was why God had been so good to me, so good as to give me a fortune.
It was so I could help these children. And perhaps I could use this situation to show Mrs. Drake and Millicent that orphaned children were not to be feared and shunned.
They were human beings who needed kindness.
After all, God asked us to care for the fatherless and widows in their affliction.
I couldn’t help but contrast Sarah and Joshua with Samuel and Annabelle.
They were similar in many ways, but Sarah and Joshua were quiet and humble, eyes wide nearly all the time, watchful and cautious.
Samuel and Annabelle were also orphans, but their situation made them more confident and often a bit unruly, as they had no fear that necessities, and even kindness, would be withheld from them if they misbehaved or didn’t show gratitude.
I spent some time the next day seeing how much my new wards knew.
Sarah knew her letters and numbers but nothing much beyond, and Joshua had no schooling at all.
I spent some time reading to them, but they were only able to pay attention for a short while.
So I played a game with them. I hid some wooden blocks, which I’d sent the footman to town to buy, under three bowls I borrowed from the kitchen.
Then I moved them around on the table. When Joshua tried to guess which bowl had the most blocks, I lifted the bowl and showed him he was wrong. He laughed out loud.
“Can I try?” he asked. He only had the use of one hand, as the physician had splinted his broken arm and wrapped it to twice its normal size.
“You can’t, Josh. Your arm.” Sarah pointed to his injured limb.
“I can do it. Turn your back. Don’t look.”
So Sarah and I turned our backs to him while he moved the bowls around with his one good hand.
“Now choose,” he said, after prompting us to turn toward him again. “Which one has the most blocks?”
We played the game for several more minutes, with me asking them questions like, “How many blocks are under this bowl? Is that more than the other bowl, or fewer? How many more? How many fewer?” We counted blocks until they grew tired of that game, then I let them look out the window at the people passing on the street.
They entered a lively discussion about the ladies and gentlemen, horses and carriages passing below.
I left them to Gretchen’s care when I thought I heard a knock at the front door, and soon the servant announced Lord Brookhaven.
Mrs. Drake, Millicent, and I received him in the sitting room. A picture of him carrying Joshua flashed through my mind, his cravat missing from his neck and tied around Joshua’s arm.
We exchanged the usual pleasantries, then he said, “How is the little fellow?”
“He is well. The broken arm hasn’t slowed him down much, although he barely moved yesterday after we brought him home. He slept ten hours, and this morning he was much better, I think.”
Lord Brookhaven smiled. His smiles were so rare, they were all the more pleasant.
“I am glad he’s doing well. And glad he found such a kind and good friend in you, Miss Robbins.”
Mrs. Drake made a hmph sound, then disguised it with a small cough into her handkerchief.
Lord Brookhaven’s gaze did not stray from mine as he said, “I heard from one of my servants that some are not very happy with your inviting two homeless street children into your home.”
“Well, I am very happy that I did.” I smirked back at Lord Brookhaven, trying to look as though I could not have cared less what other people thought.
I was actually trying to watch, out of the corner of my eye, Mrs. Drake’s reaction to my words.
I needed to seem utterly confident in my decision—and indeed, I was confident that it was the right thing, and as I said, it made me very happy.
But I also preferred that Mrs. Drake not quit my employ in disgust. She simply didn’t understand Christian charity the way I did.
At least, that’s what I was telling myself.
The servant announced a new caller. “Mr. Anthony Welton.”
I caught the scowl on Lord Brookhaven’s face just before he changed it to a look of indifference.
When Mr. Welton saw Lord Brookhaven, his smile faltered, but only for a moment. He addressed me with a slightly exaggerated bow. “Miss Robbins, you are looking particularly well on this fine morning.”
“Thank you, Mr. Welton.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of bringing you these flowers.” He held out a bouquet of red roses and lilies of the valley.
“These are lovely. Thank you.” I took them and held them up to my face. No one had ever given me flowers before. I drank in their beauty and fragrance even as I imagined they came from Lord Brookhaven instead of Mr. Welton.
I handed the flowers off to a servant, who went to find a vase for them, and we all sat down again.
“Lord Brookhaven, fancy seeing you here,” Mr. Welton said with a cocky grin.
The Earl of Brookhaven simply stared back at him and said nothing.
Mr. Welton began talking of going for a drive in his father’s barouche. “It is a very fast carriage, lightweight but substantial enough to not overturn around corners and curves. I am sure you would enjoy a little speed and the wind in your hair, Miss Robbins.”
I smiled but said nothing. Perhaps it wasn’t strictly appropriate for him to ask me such a question, but he was a young, handsome gentleman teasing me in a flattering way. And Lord Markeley and Mr. Merritt had talked with me and teased me at Lord Brookhaven’s house party.
But then I’d discovered exactly what they thought of me—that I wasn’t good enough for Lord Brookhaven to think of marrying, and the implication, of course, was that I wasn’t good enough for them either.
“Lord Brookhaven,” Mrs. Drake said, turning the conversation away from Mr. Welton, “your estate is in Berkshire, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“I hear it is a lovely prospect, with vast gardens and excellent paths for walking. I suppose you spend most of your time in the country?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Welton pretended to stifle a yawn. “Shall we go for a walk? Miss Robbins, I know you are a great walker, and it isn’t often we have such fine weather in this soggy old town.”
I shook my head at him. Saying such a thing about London seemed almost irreverent.
“It is rather late in the day for a walk, I should think,” Mrs. Drake said.
“A walk seems a fine idea to me,” I said, pretending not to have heard Mrs. Drake’s remark. “We can go to Hyde Park. Lord Brookhaven? Will you accompany us?”
Mr. Welton began to speak and drowned out whatever Lord Brookhaven was beginning to say. But Lord Brookhaven stood, and the men waited until Mrs. Drake, Millicent, and I had fetched our bonnets and parasols, and we were soon on our way.
Lord Brookhaven said not a word, but Mr. Welton talked so much that he could hardly have got a word in if he’d tried.
When we reached Lord Brookhaven’s townhouse, he stopped and said, “I shall part with you here. Good day, Miss Robbins.” He nodded to everyone, even Mr. Welton, and went inside.
“Hmm, the air seems less stodgy somehow.” Mr. Welton glanced around and grinned.
“You are incorrigible, Mr. Welton.”
“Well, I do hope I at least know how to have a good day and enjoy the company around me.” He looked pointedly at me. “Especially that of such lively company as I happily find myself in today.”
Was I lively? No one had ever called me that before.
I suppose I was, compared to some ladies.
I only hoped I hadn’t offended Lord Brookhaven.
I tried to remember anything improper I might have said or done.
Certainly, I hadn’t rejected Mr. Welton’s attentions after Lord Brookhaven warned me about him, saying that he was only after my fortune.
Lord Brookhaven might be right. But how was I to know that if I didn’t spend time with him?
Mr. Welton was never serious the whole way to Hyde Park and back, making me laugh several times, and by the time we were home again and parted from him, I had a headache.
“You are in London, and you are an earl,” Lady Derringer was saying, “and therefore you should make an appearance at this evening assembly.”
William sighed. His aunt had returned from her brief trip to the country—her estate was nearby so she could come and go more easily than most—and now she was giving him advice on how to keep up his status as an eligible bachelor.
“I have every intention of attending the evening assembly.”
“Well, good, for I have just seen Miss Charlotte Robbins in Trafalgar Square, and she says she will be there with her friends, Miss Millicent Skidmore and another young lady, who she said is arriving today. I believe her name was Hattie Something-or-other. And you had better not tiptoe around, for I believe that Anthony Welton may very well ask her to marry him soon.”
“What makes you say that?” He imagined himself demanding a duel with that blackguard, pistols at twenty paces. Or better yet, swords—all the better to give vent to his feelings with lunging, slashing, and striking.
“He was escorting her and her friend, but it was obvious that he was after Miss Robbins.”
“And she? How did she behave?” He wouldn’t have asked anyone besides his aunt, but it still rankled that he asked.
“You’re not still testing her, are you? Truly, William—”
“I’m not testing her. I never said I was testing her.” But he wasn’t certain yet if Miss Robbins cared for him. Besides, the whole point of giving her the fortune was to allow her to choose for herself what she wanted to do with her life, not to test her.
“I can hardly blame you, I suppose, after what happened with Letitia, but Miss Robbins is artless in the best possible way, and yet also clever. I do wish . . .”
He was no longer listening. Lady Derringer knew he never wished to speak of his former fiancée, that her name was not to be spoken around him.
It all came rushing back, the memories he tried so hard not to think about. What a fool he was to trust her. But at least he’d escaped, and it was that whey-faced Wexford who was married to her now.
Not only had she not loved him, but she must have hated him to treat him thus—
“William? Did you hear me?”
“No.”
“I said, I fear for what she will say and feel when she discovers her fortune came from you. So why not marry her? Now that she has a fortune, no one will judge you.”
“How strange that people would judge me for wishing to marry someone for herself and not her money.”
“That isn’t exactly what I was saying. You know how people would have talked if you’d married her when she was your governess. You know this as well as anyone.”
“And why, exactly, should I care about how people would talk?”
Lady Derringer frowned at him in her scolding, older-aunt way.
“I’m going for a ride. I shall be ready when it is time.” He bowed out of the room with her still frowning at him.