Читать книгу Regency Disguise: No Occupation for a Lady / No Role for a Gentleman - Gail Whitiker, Gail Whitiker - Страница 14

Not surprisingly, Victoria passed a thoroughly wretched night. As the midnight hours stretched slowly into dawn, she stared up at her bedroom ceiling, wondering how Alistair could possibly have guessed her secret. Had she said something to give herself away? Indicated by some wayward glance that she was the elusive playwright?

She must have, for why else would he have made the comment?

And yet, as she thought back over every conversation the two of them had ever had, Victoria could pinpoint nothing that might have exposed her. She no longer started when Lawe’s name was mentioned, nor did she blush when praise was heaped upon his work. She had learned to remain calm, as though the comments meant nothing to her. Even during her numerous conversations with Miss Wright, she was sure she had acted the part of uninterested bystander with a convincing lack of concern.

Still, she must have let something slip during their time together. Alistair’s focused gaze and casually delivered remark were too pointed to ignore.

Needing to talk to someone who had been there during last night’s conversation, Victoria waited for her brother to finish his breakfast before asking if he might like to join her for a walk. Thankfully, the morning had turned warm and, happy to get out of the house, Laurence agreed. Fifteen minutes later, they set off.

‘So, what’s really on your mind?’ he asked after they had chatted about inconsequential matters for the first few minutes.

Victoria sighed. She might have known he would see right through her. ‘I need to ask you a question. You were there last night, when Uncle Theo told Miss Wright it wasn’t Valentine Lawe sitting in the fourth row, but Sir Michael Loftus.’

‘Yes. So?’

‘So, a few minutes later, Mr Devlin said something I haven’t been able to forget.’

‘That he was madly in love with you?’

Victoria coloured. ‘Gudgeon! He would never say something like that to me.’ And sadly, she knew all too well the reasons why. ‘The point is, after Miss Wright said how disappointed she was that Valentine Lawe wasn’t in the audience, Mr Devlin told her not to worry because he had every confidence she would meet the playwright before she left London. Then he looked right at me and said I would be the one to arrange it.’

Laurence gave her a blank stare. ‘So?’

‘So you don’t think he was saying he knew I was Valentine Lawe?’

‘No. He likely said that because he knows Theodore Templeton is your uncle and that if anyone was going to be able to effect an introduction to Valentine Lawe, it would be you by virtue of your relationship to him. Unless you’ve said something to make him think otherwise.’

‘I haven’t. I’ve gone over every word I’ve ever said and cannot think of one that might have given me away.’

‘Then you have nothing to worry about.’

‘Then why do I feel so guilty?’ Victoria murmured.

‘Because you don’t like lying to the man. You feel guilty about having to deceive him and you’re afraid he will think less of you if he finds out you haven’t been telling him the truth. Of course, that only applies if you have feelings for him in return.’

‘Don’t be silly, Laurence, that has nothing to do with it.’

‘Hasn’t’ it?’ Laurence turned his attention to the road ahead. ‘See that gentleman coming towards us?’

Victoria spotted the middle-aged man and nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Do you care if he thinks your bonnet is hideous?’

Victoria frowned. ‘Of course not.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I don’t know him.’

‘And therefore care nothing for his opinion. However, if Alistair Devlin was approaching and I were to ask the same question, I doubt your answer would be the same.’

Victoria blushed. ‘Of course it would be the same. I don’t care what Mr Devlin thinks of my appearance.’

‘Don’t you?’

‘No.’ She turned to find Laurence’s gently amused glance resting on her. ‘Well, it’s not as though I have any reason to care.’

‘A woman doesn’t need a reason to wish to look attractive for a man she likes, Tory,’ Laurence said. ‘And I think you do like him enough to care what he thinks. Unfortunately, right now I have to say your time would be better spent in trying to decide what to do about Sir Michael’s offer. You know exactly what he wants and you’re going to have to give him an answer soon.’

Laurence was right. She did have to make up her mind quickly, both with regard to Sir Michael’s offer and about going public with Valentine Lawe. She and Laurence had already agreed that the offer was an incredible validation of her talent, but that there were definite consequences to meeting with the man. Uncle Theo had blessedly bought her some time by saying she was abroad, but she couldn’t stay in Europe for ever.

At some point, Sir Michael was going to want an answer, and she would have to have one ready. One she could live with … whatever the outcome.

The following day, Alistair left the estate agent’s office well pleased with the morning’s work. The papers were signed, the balance of the monies paid and the deed of ownership was finally in his hands.

He also had a new partner in his good friend, Lord Valbourg. Once he had described his plans for the old house, Valbourg had been only too happy to lend his assistance. Although money was not an issue for either of them, much of Alistair’s was tied up in investments and would take time to release. Valbourg’s was sitting idle, just waiting to be spent. When Alistair had shown him the list of projected expenses, Valbourg had been more than willing to make available whatever funds were necessary in order to get things going.

Yes, all in all it had been a very good morning, Alistair decided. The only hiccup had been his discussion over breakfast with his father concerning the subject of marriage to Lady Sarah Millingham. That was something Alistair had not been happy about and he had made it very clear to his father that such a marriage was not going to happen. For one thing, they had absolutely nothing in common. For another, she was too damn young. Alistair didn’t want a schoolroom miss for a bride. He wanted a woman who knew her own mind; one who could match wits with him and meet him on his own terms.

Lady Sarah’s mind was as vacuous as a butterfly’s.

As to being a steadying influence in her life, Alistair couldn’t imagine anything worse. The last thing he needed was a wife upon whom he constantly had to keep a watchful eye. One who was prone to doing silly, immature things. One who giggled.

That would drive him to distraction.

Besides, his feelings were already engaged. No one knew that, of course, including the lady in whom they were invested. How could she know when the awareness of his feelings had come so recently to him? But because of what he felt for Victoria Bretton, Alistair could entertain no thoughts of any other woman in his life.

At first, it was just her loveliness that had appealed to him, though he had quickly discovered that there was far more to her than mere physical beauty. Victoria’s ability to hold her head high and to ignore what people said about her was a quality he could admire, as was her desire to do what was right. She was funny, forthright, loving and honest.

Unfortunately, right from the start, she had been determined to keep him at arm’s length. She believed they would not suit and that his position in society and her fondness for the theatre would always keep them apart. Added to that was her belief that he was a man who wasted his time in shallow pursuits and therefore not worthy of her time.

For that reason alone, he was determined to show her that there was more to him than she thought—and the best way of doing that was by introducing her to Mrs Hutchins and the children.

For reasons of confidentiality, Alistair had not discussed the details of his project with very many people. He’d had to tell his father about the house due to the financial ramifications, but he hadn’t told him what it was for because he knew his father wouldn’t have approved.

Pay others to do that, Lord Kempton would have said. A gentleman does not dirty his hands with poverty.

It was not an isolated opinion. Alistair knew that many affluent men had no wish to spend any part of their personal wealth on the welfare of the sick and the downtrodden, not even when those who suffered were children. But Alistair worked to a higher ideal. He had long been impressed by the example set by Thomas Coram, the gentleman who had founded a hospital for the care and education of young children cast aside by society, and he was convinced that the need for that type of housing was greater than ever. If those who had the wherewithal to help didn’t make the attempt, countless innocents would die. He had the money and the time to invest in such a cause and he was happy to do it.

Besides, his reasons for establishing the orphanage went far deeper than any one knew. The day he had seen an eight-year-old girl purposely walk into the path of an oncoming carriage was the day his life had changed for ever.

There hadn’t been time to react, either on his part or the coachman’s. The carriage had thundered down on that poor child and she had been knocked aside by the lead horse, killing her on the spot. The carriage hadn’t stopped. Alistair doubted the occupants were even aware of what happened. But he had made a vow, then and there, that whatever he could do to better the lives of children like that, would be done.

He wondered what Victoria Bretton would say about his inclinations. Would she look at him differently if she knew? Would she think better of him and perhaps be more willing to entertain his suit?

And then, as if conjured by thought alone, she appeared on the street ahead of him. She was strolling with her brother, the sound of her laughter drifting along the street towards him. She was dressed all in green and looked as beguiling as spring.

Alistair knew the moment she saw him. Her laughter stopped, but he saw the telltale rush of colour to her cheeks. And though that too receded, the fact it had been there at all gave him hope.

Unfortunately, there was still a feeling of unease between them as a result of the unfortunate conversation they’d had the day he had driven her home from the Gryphon Theatre. It had lessened slightly after their conversation at Lady Hincham’s garden party, and he had hoped their evening together at the Gryphon would have resolved it entirely. It was the reason he had been so insistent that she join him and Isabelle for the seventh performance of Valentine Lawe’s play.

But it had become clear to him right after the meeting with Victoria and her uncle at the foot of the grand staircase that she had still been very much on edge. She looked as though she had received news of a most disturbing nature, and it wasn’t long after that she and her brother had left.

Alistair just wanted the distance between them to be at an end. He was desperate for a sign that she wasn’t as unaware of him as he feared.

‘Well, this is an unexpected pleasure,’ he said, drawing his phaeton to a halt. ‘Good morning to you both.’

‘Good morning, Mr Devlin,’ Laurence said. Victoria only smiled, but while her hand stayed in the crook of her brother’s arm, Alistair noticed that her fingers tightened on his sleeve. ‘You look very satisfied with yourself.’

‘In fact, I have had a very productive morning and am on my way to share some good news with someone who will be very pleased to hear it.’

‘May we enquire as to the nature of the business?’ Victoria asked.

He looked down at her and knew the moment was at hand. ‘You may enquire, Miss Bretton, but rather than tell you, I wonder if you would allow me to show you what I am so pleased about.’

‘I’m not sure how one shows another person good news, Mr Devlin.’

‘That depends on the nature of the news. But if you would allow me, I think you will be pleasantly surprised.’

An expression of interest flashed across her face, as well as a flicker of curiosity—something Alistair knew very few women were capable of resisting. ‘Very well, you have piqued my interest, sir.’

‘Mr Bretton, you are most welcome to join us,’ Alistair said, knowing it would be impossible not to extend the invitation to her brother as well.

Thankfully, Laurence declined. ‘It is good of you to ask, but I have an appointment elsewhere. Victoria can tell me about it when she gets home. I trust you to take good care of her.’

Alistair smiled. ‘I will do my best.’

Minutes later, he and Victoria were clipping along in the direction of the orphanage. Alistair knew it was too late to change his mind. They were set on a course and he was anxious to see what Victoria’s response to his undertaking would be.

She was quiet as they drove through the narrowing streets. The house was located in an area north and east of the Gryphon Theatre, in a part of town Alistair doubted Victoria would be familiar with. There were no fine shops or attractions to which a young lady visiting London would have any reason to go, but it suited his purposes well enough. He had acquired the house some years ago as the result of a business transaction and, until a few months ago, it had been sufficient for his needs. But as the children kept coming, it had quickly grown too small, hence Alistair’s decision to purchase a larger house.

He turned at last into the street and stopped the carriage in the usual place. Thomas appeared within moments, as if drawn by the sound of carriage wheels. After tossing the lad a coin, Alistair turned to help Victoria alight. ‘Before we go in,’ he said, ‘I want you to know that if you feel uncomfortable at any time, or wish to depart, you have only to say so. But it was necessary that I come here today and I wanted to share this with you.’

‘Why?’

A dozen answers sprang to mind. He gave her the most honest. ‘Because your opinion matters to me.’

Intense astonishment touched her face, but after a moment’s consideration, she nodded. ‘Then pray proceed, Mr Devlin. I am curious to see what this is all about.’

He unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Jenny was standing in the entrance hall. Blonde hair hung lank around her cheeks and, upon seeing Victoria, she gasped and ran back down the corridor, disappearing through a door at the end.

‘Who was that?’ Victoria asked.

‘Jenny.’ Alistair ushered her inside and rang a small silver bell on the table. ‘She doesn’t speak. At least, she hasn’t since her arrival here.’

‘Has she been injured?’

‘Not physically. The doctor said her vocal cords are fine, but she witnessed—’

Alistair stopped, not sure how much of Jenny’s sad story he should reveal. But while Victoria’s face was pale, her voice was steady when she said, ‘What did she witness?’

It was the calmness of her manner that decided him. ‘A violent crime. She ended up here because it wasn’t safe for her to remain where she was.’

Victoria kept her eyes on the door through which Jenny had just disappeared. ‘Are there others here like her?’

‘Yes. Their circumstances are all different, but their reasons for being here are the same,’ Alistair said, wondering where Mrs Hutchins was. ‘They were all brought here to recover.’

Finally, Mrs Hutchins did appear, emerging from the same doorway through which Jenny had disappeared. ‘Mr Devlin, I’m so sorry,’ she said, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘I heard the bell but I couldn’t leave Molly. She’s had a terrible bout of coughing. I’ve sent young Teddy for the doctor.’

Alistair felt despair well up in his soul. ‘Take me to her.’ He saw the housekeeper’s gaze go briefly to Victoria and said, ‘Miss Bretton, this is Mrs Hutchins. Mrs Hutchins looks after the children here.’

Victoria immediately put out her hand. ‘I am very pleased to meet you, Mrs Hutchins. Please, take us to see Molly.’

The housekeeper nodded. ‘I hope you don’t mind the sight of blood, miss,’ she said, turning to lead the way.

‘I’m not squeamish. I was always the sister who fell out of the tree.’

The remark brought a faint smile to the older woman’s face. ‘You may find this is a little more unsettling. Mind your skirts there.’

Alistair tried to keep an eye on Victoria as they made their way down to the kitchen. He had complete faith in Mrs Hutchins’s ability to look after the children, but if Molly was coughing up blood, it was just as well the doctor had been sent for. For all Victoria’s claim that she had fallen out of trees, what she was about to see was something she likely didn’t encounter in her everyday life.

Molly was lying on a narrow cot placed next to the fire. Her face was white and the front of her chemise was spattered with blood. A quick glance showed other towels spotted with blood, which Mrs Hutchins quickly gathered up. Molly’s sister, Margaret, was standing a few feet away, her face stricken.

To Alistair’s surprise, Victoria went straight to the child’s cot. ‘Oh, you poor little thing,’ she murmured. She bent down, her skirts pooling like a field of green around her. ‘Hello, Molly. My name is Victoria. Can you hear me?’

Molly’s eyes were half-open and fixed on Victoria’s face. When she nodded, Victoria looked up and smiled at the other child standing close by. ‘Is this your sister?’

‘That’s Margaret, miss,’ Mrs Hutchins whispered as she passed by.

‘Hello, Margaret.’

The girl didn’t answer, but Victoria didn’t seem to expect her to. She returned her attention to Molly and gently brushed the hair back from her forehead. Then she took one of the girl’s hands between her own and rubbed it gently. ‘You’ve not been very well, have you, Molly? But the doctor is coming and he’s going to take care of you.’

Molly nodded and her eyes drifted closed.

Alistair swallowed hard. He feared they were going to lose Molly—possibly her and Margaret both. The damage done by the mills was something even the finest doctors couldn’t repair, and the knowledge that these little girls’ early deaths could have been prevented made him angrier than he would have believed possible.

And then, four more children shuffled in, all huddled close together. He knew each of them by name because he had made it his business to, and they knew him. But they didn’t know the lady crouching by Molly’s cot.

‘Will she be all right, then?’ the tallest of them asked.

Alistair nodded. ‘We’ve sent for the doctor, Thomas, and with luck, he’ll be here very soon. Why don’t you take Ruth and Alice upstairs and then gather the rest of the children together? There’s something I want to tell you.’

‘Aye, go along with you now, Thomas,’ Mrs Hutchins said. ‘Where’s Robert?’

‘Up in t’ schoolroom,’ Peter answered. ‘With David and Beth.’

‘All right. Go and find them and tell them Mr Devlin wants to talk to them.’