Chapter 5 #5
Haydon shook his head. “The Royal Bank of Scotland isn’t run by your adoring little friend, Mr. Humphries.
All they care about is getting their money.
If they say they will take proceedings against you to sell the house in thirty days, then that is what they will do.
Your home will be swiftly sold for a fraction of its value, the money collected will go to pay off your debts, and you and your children will be on the street.
In the meantime, the bank has emptied your account, which means at this very moment you don’t have the means to buy so much as a pint of milk or an egg. ”
“Thank you for clarifying my situation for me, Lord Redmond,” said Genevieve tautly, rising to her feet.
“I believe you have enough concerns of your own at present, without having to trouble yourself over my situation as well. Tomorrow I shall meet with Mr. Humphries at eleven o’clock, and explain to him that I need more time.
I shall say that my husband’s funds are currently tied up in investments, and cannot be accessed for a week or two.
That should give me enough time to sell a few things and accumulate enough money to keep the bank at bay for a while. ”
Haydon was unconvinced. Even if Genevieve came up with the money to satisfy the immediate outstanding debt, there was still the matter of the monthly payments which she was clearly unable to honor, and beyond that, the money needed for daily household expenses.
Although he could understand her desire to help all the lost waifs and stray elders she had taken in, at some point she should have realized she lacked the means to support so many people.
But then, her generous spirit was at the heart of her.
If not for her singular determination to help others, he would not be standing here arguing before her in her drawing room, almost healed and, for the moment, safe.
“I will go with you,” he told her.
“That isn’t necessary.”
“Yes, it is.” He found her stubbornness profoundly irritating.
“People believe you are a married woman, Genevieve, and as such, whether you like it or not, your debts are now my responsibility as far as the rest of the world is concerned. We will meet with Mr. Humphries together, and convince him that we have the funds, but they are not immediately available. Let us hope that we are able to obtain an extension of a week or more. And then,” he finished, glancing in frustration at the nearly bare walls, “we had best hope that you find diamonds hidden in the frames of these paintings.”
…AND THEN LORD REDMOND SAID THE BANK WAS going to keep all the money from selling the house, and we would all be on the street.”
Jamie, Annabelle, Grace, and Charlotte stared at Simon in horror, their faces like a row of little pale moons against the darkness of the boys’ bedroom.
“Genevieve won’t let that happen,” said Jamie, trying to feign greater assurance than he actually felt. “She’ll find a way to pay the bank its money.”
“She can’t, because the bank stole all her money,” Simon countered. “Lord Redmond said we don’t even have enough to buy an egg.”
“Oh my.” Grace’s eyes grew wide with anxiety. “What are we going to do?”
“We are going to starve to death,” Annabelle declared matter-of-factly.
“We shall grow weak and tired and gradually waste away, and when we finally die we shall be so small, they will place all of us in one simple, pine coffin, and then they shall lay us to rest forever in an unmarked grave, because Genevieve will not be able to afford a proper gravestone. Instead she will plant a scarlet rosebush on it, and she will come every day and water it with her tears, and every year there will be six lovely roses blooming for her, one for each of us.” She hugged her knees to her chest and sighed rapturously.
“Don’t count me in that coffin.” Jack was stretched out upon his bed with his hands laced behind his head. “I’m not stayin’ around here to starve.”
Jamie looked at him in surprise. “You’re not?”
“I’m leavin’ tomorrow. Never planned to stay this long anyway.”
“But where will you go?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Glasgow, maybe. There’s plenty of quid to be made there.”
“You mean in a factory?” Simon was intrigued. He liked the idea of all that complicated machinery pressing and squeezing and hammering away at a myriad of tasks before spitting out a button or a kettle at the end.
Jack snorted with contempt. “I’d never work in one of those places. You might as well be in prison—or dead.”
“Then how will you make money?” wondered Jamie.
“Same way I always have. Glasgow’s full of fancy folk just waitin’ to have something lifted off them. Most of them are so rich, they don’t even notice if a wallet or watch goes missing, an’ if they do notice, they don’t care.”
Annabelle’s pink bow of a mouth tightened with disapproval. “You mustn’t go back to stealing, Jack. You might get caught and end up back in prison.”
“How would Genevieve ever find you all the way in Glasgow?” added Grace. “The prisons there must be very big.”
“I don’t need Genevieve to find me,” Jack retorted.
“And I won’t end up back in prison. I’ve been stealin’ my whole life and never got caught—except,” he grudgingly allowed, “for this one time. I know how to snatch something and slip into the shadows. Most times folk don’t even know they’ve been robbed.
You can make a bloody good living at it, if you’re clever and quick. ”
Simon regarded him curiously. “Does that mean you weren’t clever and quick when you got caught?”
“I made a mistake,” Jack grumbled. “I won’t make it again.”
“If you run away, you will get Genevieve into a lot of trouble.”
Charlotte’s quiet, earnest statement had the effect of instantly silencing the room. None of the children wanted anything bad to happen to Genevieve.
Jack shifted uneasily on his bed. He did not relish the thought of adding to Genevieve’s troubles, but he did not feel that was reason enough for him to stay.
After all, he had to look out for himself first. It had been that way from the moment he was born, and it wasn’t about to change just because Genevieve had been kind enough to take him out of prison and save him from being lashed by that bastard of a warder.
Even if she had subsequently risked herself to help Haydon as well, and stayed by his side while he burned with fever, and then lied and told everyone he was her husband when it seemed for certain he was going to be arrested.
She had taken risks for both of them, sure, but that didn’t mean Jack was obliged to stay there.
Guilt gnawed at his conscience.
“If Genevieve gets into trouble because of you, Jack, they might take us all away from her,” added Grace soberly.
“They can’t.” Jamie looked stunned by the possibility. “Can they?”
“I don’t think they would be able to take you away, Jamie,” Simon said, wanting to reassure him. “You’ve never been in jail.”
“I was born in jail.” His little voice trembled with pride, the result of many long talks with Genevieve in which she had instilled an unyielding sense of dignity in the lad regarding his heritage and the unfortunate circumstances of his birth.
“That doesn’t count,” Annabelle told him. “You didn’t steal or break any laws like the rest of us. The court can’t take you away just because of where you were born.”
“If they take our house away and we’ve no food to eat, they’re going to put all of us in a reformatory school or workhouse,” concluded Grace. “Genevieve won’t be able to stop them.”
“I can’t.” Charlotte swallowed thickly, trying hard to be strong and not to cry in front of the others.
“I can’t possibly go to live in a place like that.
I know they’ll be cruel to me because of my leg, and they’ll make me do things I can’t do, and when I fall behind they’ll beat me and tell me I’m lazy and stupid…
.” Tears began to drip down her cheeks in two anguished streams. “And I won’t have any of you with me to help keep me strong—”
“Hush, now,” soothed Grace, wrapping her arms around Charlotte and pulling her against her slender form.
At twelve, Grace was barely one year older than Charlotte, but the life she had endured thus far had given her a tenderness and maturity that was years beyond her youth.
She had run away from an uncle who tried to molest her at the age of eight, and then spent a year working with a small ring of pickpockets before she was finally caught and rescued from the jail by Genevieve.
“Whatever happens, I won’t let them separate us, Charlotte—do you hear? ”
“Nor will I,” added Annabelle fiercely, laying her head affectionately upon Charlotte’s trembling shoulder.
Like Grace, Annabelle also knew what it was to be utterly desperate and alone.
Her mother had died long before she could remember, and her father had been a drunk who seemed to despise her very presence.
He beat her often, once throwing her across the room into a table and knocking her unconscious.
She still bore a scar on her temple from that vicious attack, and was most careful to arrange her blonde hair so that it was hidden from view.
“Me neither,” said Simon.
“I’m going to go with you too.” Jamie’s expression brightened suddenly. “Do you think they might let Genevieve come with us as well?”
Charlotte inhaled a ragged breath, as another tear spilled down her face.
“None of you is goin’ anywhere,” growled Jack suddenly.
The little group looked at him in confusion.