For the sake of love (The St Bernadette Files Book 2)

by Regina Darcy

  Import

  Table of Content

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  BONUS CHAPTER: Against her will (Runaway Brides Series)

  KEEP IN TOUCH!

  Copyright © Regina Darcy 2019

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher and writer except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Previously published as “The Earl’s Hellion.”

  This is a contemporary work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

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  ONE

  The town of Upper Nettlefold in Berkshire was bathed in bright sunlight. The house that was now the subject matter of many scandalous conversations in the county was located near the very outer border.

  The house was relatively quiet for a scorching summer midday. Its halls should have been filled with girlish laughter and the running of slippered feet from one lesson to the other. Despite its quiet façade, you would be hard-pressed to suspect anything untoward was taking place inside. The majestic grounds of the estate house hid its true goings-on for all but the most discerning of visitors.

  Rumours had been rampant that at St Bernadette’s girls’ boarding-school, which educated young women on how to become accomplished governesses, women had been disappearing. The fact that mostly wealthy illegitimate young girls and unfortunate abandoned souls had ever resided behind its walls was of worry but not unduly so. No, what had the gossipmongers wagging their tongues was the dark stench of human trafficking.

  Although a woman inevitably became the property of her husband, unable to hold any dwellings in her own name or of signing any contracts after having signed away her liberties through the civil act of marriage, the actual selling of one’s kin or persons in one’s charge was strongly frowned upon.

  But to prove the practice was actually happening and to class it as criminal activity was quite the challenge in itself. So although rumours abound, most of them did not reach the young women of St Bernadette and life continued to potter on as if nothing was amiss.

  But for one student, what was wrong could no longer be ignored and neither could her inquisitiveness.

  “She must go!”

  Miss Charity Worthington froze, her hands stilling on the shovel and brush she held.

  “Please, Uncle Robert,” she heard Martha Hemsworth say. “Abigail has only just left! Surely you do not need to find another gentleman so soon.”

  Hearing the desperate note in Miss Hemsworth’s voice, anxiety clawed its way up Charity’s throat. Was she about to be sent away too?

  “You are far too sentimental, Martha,” Robert Savage replied, in a sickly sweet voice. “You have been running this school on your own for too long. Its matrimony these girls need. Then you’ll be able to find new young women to join my school to take their places. That means you’ll be able to help even more young women like Esther and Abigail. Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “There is simply no need to rush into things,” Charity heard Miss Hemsworth reply, her voice slightly tinted with apprehension. “We already have several spaces opened up now for new young ladies since Esther and Abigail have….left us… and since Stephanie, Charlotte, Lucy and Mary disappeared – but there is not exactly a large queue at the door, Uncle Robert! If there were, I could perhaps understand your haste in marrying Charity off, but as there is not —”

  “Regardless of what you think, I have decided that Charity is to be married,” Robert Savage interrupted, a note of irritation in his voice. “I am the head of this place after all and I do think that Charity needs a firm hand. She is far too headstrong.”

  Heat infused Charity’s cheeks as she listened, refusing to allow the threatening shame to wash over her. She knew quite well that Robert Savage did not particularly like her, given that she was not afraid to speak her mind, but it was a quality she quite liked about herself. Obviously now the man was attempting to get rid of her from the boarding school by marrying her to whoever he could find!

  “Really, Uncle Robert, there is no need –”

  “The colonies, I think.”

  Charity’s gasp came at the exact same time as Miss Hemsworth’s, her hands dropping the brush and shovel, which fell with a clatter. She could not move, could not think. The colonies? Surely not!

  “Why the colonies, Uncle Robert?” Miss Hemsworth asked her voice threadbare with shock. “That is a dangerous trip in itself, but she will face an entirely changed situation as well as a new husband. The colonies, I have heard, are vastly different from England in almost every way!”

  “I am sure she will do quite well,” Mr Savage replied, nonchalantly. “I owe a debt, you see, and her marriage will clear that. On top of which, Lord Thurston is a strong man, not afraid to give a woman a firm hand. That girl needs that. She has quite too much lip.”

  A tremble began to make its way through Charity’s body, driving weakness straight through her. She could hardly believe her ears.

  Not only was she to be sent away, but it was to an entirely different country to marry a man who sounded as though he would be more than willing to beat her should she ever dare to voice a difference in opinion.

  “Uncle Robert,” she heard Miss Hemsworth say, in a somewhat pleading voice. “Please reconsider this. The colonies are –”

  “She will go in a month, if not sooner. You are dismissed, Martha,” Robert interrupted, loudly. “Thank you for your input but, as ever, I am unchanged from my course of action. I do wish you would learn to keep your thoughts to yourself. Things would tick along quite nicely if you did not disagree with my plans, Martha.”

  Charity stumbled back from the door, her feet accidentally kicking the brush on the floor. She had only just got out of the way of the door when it opened and Miss Hemsworth stepped out, her face white.

  “Close the door, will you?” Mr Savage called out.

  Obediently, Miss Hemsworth closed the door before turning to grasp Charity’s arm.

  “You heard?”

  Charity nodded, her stomach turning over as she looked into Miss Hemsworth’s distressed face.

  “You cannot let him send me there. Please, I beg of you.”

  Miss Hemsworth drew in a long breath, tears glistening in her eyes. “We cannot talk here. Please, come to my room. Uncle Robert cannot overhear.”

  Her feet like lead; Charity stumbled along beside her former Headmistress, attempting to draw strength from her. She knew that Miss Hemsworth was as horrified as she was.

  It had been three harrowing months. Never would both women have believed that so much could change in so little time. Miss Hemsworth was no longer the Headmistress of the St Bernadette school for young girls and Charity for all intents and purposes might as well have been born an orphan.

  Charity bit her lower lip and swallowed away the sorrow that threatened to wash over her. This was not the time for self-pity. She was aware of just how much
Miss Hemsworth had been forced to endure at the hand of her uncle who had simply stepped into her life one day and taken over her entire world.

  Miss Hemsworth had been unable to stop Robert Savage from sending Esther and Abigail away to destinies unknown.

  Charity refused to believe that they had gone on to marry some eligible gentlemen. If they had, they would not have hesitated to send her some kind of message. A letter, a note, anything. Never would her elder sisters leave her to fend for herself in a cruel and uncaring world.

  She clenched her fists and started taking deep breathes to calm herself down. Useless rage would not serve her.

  Oh, how she would have appreciated one of Abigail’s quote’s from the Good Book right about now. She would not even have made a joke that her second to oldest sister should be shipped off to the nearest refectory to be married to a man of the cloth. She wrung her hands as she fell into step with Miss Hemsworth.

  The former headmistress could have been mistaken for one of her student, but for the seriousness of her countenance and the severe nature of her chignon. Charity forced back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. Nothing and no one had helped her sisters so how could she really hope that Miss Hemsworth could, in any way, save her from her own unknown fate? She shook her head to drag herself out of her melancholy.

  “There is more to my uncle than meets the eye,” she heard Miss Hemsworth say under her breath, as they walked along the passageway towards Miss Hemsworth’s rooms. “He has people listening almost all the time, so we must be careful.”

  Charity swallowed and quickened her steps. There had been some new staff of late, and Charity had not liked any of them. They were always watching, their eyes on her whenever she stepped into the same room as them. She never spoke more than a few words, her heart warning her to be careful of them. It appeared now that her instincts had been quite right.

  “My room will be safe,” Miss Hemsworth murmured, opening the door to her room and ushering Charity inside. “We have much to speak about.”

  Stepping inside, Charity took a few deep breaths and let her anxiety settle just a little. She was not being sent away to the colonies today; she had some time to gather her thoughts. A month, she had heard Robert Savage say. A month to try and find a new path, to make her own way in life.

  “Whatever am I do to?” she asked, the moment Miss Hemsworth closed the door. “You know I cannot find a husband on my own, Miss Hemsworth, but I simply cannot go to the colonies! To marry a man I have never met, as payment for a debt…..it is unthinkable.”

  “I am so terribly sorry,” Miss Hemsworth replied, her features ridden with a mixture of guilt and frustration. “If only I could find a way to stop him from doing what he pleases, then you would not find yourself in this situation.”

  Charity shook her head, refusing to allow her to take on the burden of responsibility.

  “It is not your fault, Miss Hemsworth. What could you have done?”

  Miss Hemsworth bit her lip. “I could have done something more, Charity, and by goodness, I am about to do so now.” Her gaze pierced Charity’s. “I will need you to help me, though.”

  “Of course,” Charity exclaimed, leaning forward in her chair as a faint flicker of hope coursed through her. “What do you intend to do?”

  Swallowing, Miss Hemsworth paused for a few seconds before beginning.

  “I have long suspected that my uncle has other nefarious purposes in mind for the young ladies of this establishment.”

  “You suspect these ‘marriages’ are a sham,” Charity interjected, having already thought as much herself. “That may be. Just as I am a payment of a debt, others might be similarly abused or worse.”

  Martha’s cheeks flooded with colour. “Precisely. I confess I am ashamed of my uncle and my own lack of action as regards his intentions. Your twin sister and elder sister might have fared better had I immediately sought help.”

  Charity swallowed.

  “Pray, do not think so, Miss Hemsworth. I know this has come as quite a shock to you also. In being so swiftly removed from the school you have called your own for a great many years…” She shook her head. “I cannot imagine what you must be going through.”

  “Regardless, now is the time to act,” Miss Hemsworth replied, briskly. “I will not allow my uncle to do such a thing as to send you to the colonies as payment for a debt.” Lifting her chin, she looked directly at Charity. “I intend to speak to an old friend. Someone I should have turned to some time ago.”

  “Oh?”

  Miss Hemsworth gave her a tight smile. “He was once a Bow Street Runner. Yes, I am more than aware that they do not always have the best of reputations, but he is a good man and hard-working at that. There is a chance he might be able to help, or, at the very least, know someone who could assist us in some way.”

  “You believe your uncle might not be who he says he is,” Charity said, slowly. Miss Hemsworth nodded. “If you do not believe he is truly your kin, this means….”

  “It means he would have no claim on my home or on any of you,” Miss Hemsworth finished, crisply. “I have had my doubts for some time, but have struggled to think of a way to prove as much.”

  “But he has papers,” Charity protested.

  “Papers can be falsified. I will need to find someone to look into my uncle’s past, and perhaps even to look into the papers he holds, for that is the only way I can think that he might be completely removed from our lives.” She leaned forward slightly, her face in earnest. “I am counting on you to help me, Charity.”

  “Of course I will!” Charity exclaimed at once, hope flooding her heart. “I will do whatever I can Miss Hemsworth. You can depend on me.”

  Without another word she went back to her bucket and brush and started scrubbing the floor.

  Ever since the arrival of Randal Savage, the girls were now obliged to clean the establishment for free instead of the servants Miss Hemsworth had once hired. The bulk of the hired help were let go, with only a day’s pay in pocket.

  Charity bent over the bucket and poured a little bit of its contents on the floor so she could start scrubbing. As she went along, she admitted to herself that she might not be as brave as Esther or as devout as Abigail, but she believed somehow, somewhere, her knight in shining armour would come and take her away from the nightmare she was living. All she needed to do was have faith and give the Almighty a hand by first trying to help herself.

  Even as she told herself these words of encouragement, any outsider would be hard-pressed not to notice the way her hands clung in a death-grip to the brush and the frantic manner she was scrubbing the floor, as if her life depended on it.

  TWO

  It was not until two days later that Charity found herself arm in arm with Miss Hemsworth, making their way across the cobbled streets towards the various shops that lined the high-street of Nettlefold village. Robert Savage had been told that they were to do some errands, which was nothing out of the ordinary, but Charity had found herself anxious that he might still have sent someone to follow them, suspicious of Miss Hemsworth’s motives.

  Thankfully, there was no sign of anyone. Miss Hemsworth ducked into the general store, pulling Charity after her. They walked further in into the section that held the few shelves of books the general store manage was selling and renting.

  Together, they waited in breathless silence to see if anyone might come after them.

  When no one appeared after a good few minutes, Charity let out a long breath, which was echoed by Miss Hemsworth’s sigh of relief.

  “It appears we are to be left alone,” Miss Hemsworth murmured, softly. “Apparently my uncle does not consider me a threat in any way….” Her head dropped. “It is probably because he has already managed to send two young ladies away already and I have not been able to stop him. He will not expect me to be able to seek any kind of assistance now.”

  Charity put a comforting hand on her former headmistresses arm.

&n
bsp; “Now, now. No need for any recrimination, Miss Hemsworth. You are doing what you can in an exceedingly difficult situation.” Sympathy filled her as she took in Miss Hemsworth’s guilt-ridden face. It was clear that the woman felt completely responsible for the goings-on at St Bernadette, even though she could do very little about it. Giving her a quick smile, Charity’s eyes scanned the general store.

  “Are we meeting him here?”

  “We are,” Miss Hemsworth replied, quietly. “It might be best if I meet him alone, at least initially. He is something of a suspicious man!”

  “Of course,” Charity replied, not in the least bit put out. “I have not been in a general goods store for some time and I confess that my fingers are itching to leaf through some of these books!” Her eyes wandered over the handful of book-lined shelves, wondering if she might have the opportunity to purchase a new book of poetry. She was something of a vivacious reader, losing herself in the words that painted pictures of places and experiences outside her own sphere of reality. Maybe one day she might have the chance to fall in love, to understand the depths of what so many poets wrote about, but as yet it was simply a dream that she could only hope for.

  The door to the shop opened, the bell tinkling, and Charity saw Miss Hemsworth stiffen briefly.

  “Is that him? Nathan Fitzpatrick?” she asked, catching Miss Hemsworth’s answering nod. “Then I shall be over here when you need me. I do hope he can help us.”

  “Thank you,” Miss Hemsworth murmured, her eyes on the man who was slowly making his way towards her. “I won’t be long.”

  Charity walked away to another part of the small shop, although she still made sure to keep Miss Hemsworth in her sights. It was quite evident that Miss Hemsworth was both relieved and anxious about seeing the man, although he did take her hand and press a kiss to it.

  “It is good to see you again,” Miss Hemsworth murmured. “Thank you for meeting with me, Nathan. I must apologise for the secretive nature of our meeting.”