The Smithfield Market Romances: A Sweet Regency Romance Boxset

by Rose Pearson

  “Do get on, Laura,” Mary said firmly, eyeing Elouise. “You have chores to do and sitting here with a crying child does not help get them done.”

  Laura nodded. “Yes, I know. Elouise is simply a little distressed and I thought –”

  Mary clicked her tongue, interrupting Laura. “No excuses, if you please. Be on your way. Elouise, dry your eyes and then splash some water on your face. I am sure you have something useful you can do. Why not try to continue with your embroidery? It is to be sold once it is completed, remember, so it must be your very best work.”

  Elouise’s lip trembled as she nodded, her brown eyes so filled with pain and grief looking at the floor. Laura felt her heart twist with sympathy for her but, having very little choice but to do what Mary Sanders asked, contented herself with a gentle squeeze of the child’s shoulder before stepping past Mary Sanders and making her way to the front door.

  Sighing heavily to herself, Laura wished that Mary Sanders could find it within herself to show the girls who came to the orphanage a little more compassion. Instead, it appeared as though she cared nothing for their sufferings, for she always only considered practical arrangements. When a new girl came to the orphanage, Mary was the one to ensure she had a bed, clothing, food and, of course, something to employ herself with which might then be sold and used as income for the orphanage. The orphanage received some funds from their generous benefactors who had opened up the orphanage in the first place, but income from embroidery or other needlework was a welcome addition. Mary Sanders never once thought about grief or sadness or pain when it came to assessing the girls. It was as though emotions did not exist for Mary, as though she did not need to consider them for she had no understanding of them. It was not that way for Laura and, more and more, she found the girls turning to her whenever they needed someone to listen to them. She was glad of that, glad that her experience made her able to understand their difficulties, even if she had Mary Sanders to contend with at times.

  Humming to herself, Laura stepped outside into the beautiful afternoon sunshine, tipping her head back for a moment so that she might drink it in. It was by no means warm, given that it was only the beginning of March, but Laura was glad that they had left winter far behind them. The orphanage was always terribly cold in the winter, even with the additional coal they were given. Last winter had been a particularly bad one. She shivered as she stepped out of the gates, making her way towards Smithfield Market where she might collect what they needed for tonight’s dinner.

  “You ain’t cold, Miss Laura, surely?”

  Laura smiled at the familiar face of the old market seller, Mr. Stone, standing behind his goods. Tugging her shawl a little closer around herself as the cold wind nipped at her, she shivered again. “I was thinking of the winter,” she explained, picking up a couple of potatoes and examining them. “It was a bad one, to be sure. I’m glad the sun has decided to show itself today!”

  The old man chuckled, displaying a mouth that was missing a good few teeth. “I can agree with you on that, Miss Laura! Now, what is it you’re looking for today?”

  Laura picked up yet more potatoes. “Ten of these, Mr. Stone.”

  “Just ten?”

  She chuckled. “Yes, just ten. Cook has more in, you see, so I won’t need too many today.”

  “But you’ll be back tomorrow?”

  Laughing, she paid him and collected the potatoes in her basket. “I am at Smithfield Market every day, Mr. Stone, as you well know. I’m sure I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

  Mr. Stone’s eyes twinkled, and he touched his cap, before letting her move on. Laura, still smiling to herself, continued to walk through the marketplace, making sure she got everything that was needed. Cook wouldn’t be best pleased if she came back without!

  An hour later, her basket heavily laden, Laura allowed herself to daydream as she made her way back to the orphanage. It was not something she permitted herself to do very regularly, since she felt it was something of a foolish enterprise. She knew her place in this world, knew what was expected of her and what she would, most likely, end up doing for the remainder of her days, but still, she let her thoughts wander. After all, she knew two young ladies from Smithfield Market who had, only recently, had their circumstances change in the most extraordinary of ways. It was foolish for her to believe that she might be next, but still, it showed her that there was always a chance that things might change for her.

  She shook her head to herself, berating herself silently. She had no need to think about what might happen to her, for that was only filling her with false hope about something that, in all likelihood, would never happen. She would be working at the orphanage for the rest of her days, until she grew too old to do so – or until she had saved up enough money to purchase a small dwelling where she might reside until the last breath left her body. It was by no means a particularly wonderful life, but it was better than so many of the poor and weak around these parts. She could not complain, not when she knew that, had things been different, she might have ended up in the poorhouse or, perhaps, died from consumption. Besides which, the girls needed a listening ear, a gentle heart and quiet reassurance. That was something Mary Sanders lacked, which meant that Laura’s role did hold some importance in the running of the orphanage. She did not need to dream about what adventures life could take her on, what gentlemen she might meet or the like. She had to be content with the life she had. Anything else was foolishness.

  Walking back towards the gates of the orphanage, Laura stopped dead as her gaze landed on what was the most beautiful carriage she had ever seen. It was practically gleaming in the sunshine, and was surrounded by footmen and tigers who were, clearly, waiting for someone’s return. She let her eyes linger on the crest that was emblazoned on the carriage doors, wondering who this might be and why they had come to Smithfield Market.

  “Stop your gawking, girl! Be off with you!”

  Laura’s eyes shot to one of the footmen, who was glaring at her. She drew herself up, refusing to be intimidated. “I am not gawking, sir,” she replied, a little tartly. “Simply wondering how I am meant to return to the orphanage when your carriage is directly in front of the gates!”

  The footman’s eyes narrowed, but he did not rail at her again.

  “Might I move past you?” she said, stepping a little closer. “You are all somewhat in the way, I must say.”

  The footman stepped hastily back, as though she were some disease-ridden creature. “Do be careful, there.”

  She made her way past him quickly, her back ramrod straight. “Might I ask whose carriage this is?”

  “Impertinent chit,” the footman muttered, whilst the driver – who appeared much more amicable, shot her a smile.

  “The Duke of Royston’s sister,” he said, sounding rather full of himself. “She has gone into the orphanage, miss. Do you work there?”

  “I do,” Laura replied, wondering why on earth a Duke’s sister had appeared at the orphanage.

  The driver grinned, ignoring the footman’s disdainful mutterings. “Then you will most likely see her ladyship inside, miss. Lady Alice, or ‘my lady’, of course.”

  Laura nodded and smiled, thanking the driver before walking quickly into the orphanage. She did not want to allow herself to hope, but this might mean that the lady was looking to take some girls in! It often happened that the gentry sought out decent maids or the like from places like the orphanage, and Laura was always delighted when it occurred. It was not a particularly wonderful life by any means, but it was more than suitable for girls of the orphanage.

  Entering the front door of the house, Laura was met by Helen, a young lady who had only recently begun employment at the orphanage, helping Laura and Mary to deal with the increased number of young girls who had come to the orphanage of late.

  “You’re wanted in Miss Sanders’ office, Laura,” she said quickly, taking the basket and shawl from her. “You’d best go at once. There’s an awful fine lady in th
ere!”

  Laura could not help but smile. “Yes, I saw the carriage. I hope it might mean employment for some of our girls. The gentry are always looking for decent maids and we do have some of the very best trained up here.”

  Helen looked a little uncertain. “I ain’t sure that’s who she’s looking for, though. She said something about finding ‘the perfect girl’. I overheard her as she came in.”

  Frowning, Laura searched Helen’s face, seeing the worry written into her expression. “Even if she provides employment for just one of our girls, then I will be grateful.”

  “You don’t think it’s for something a little…..darker?” Helen asked, looking even more concerned. “I have heard of the gentry seeking out a young girl for their own pleasures.”

  Laura stiffened, then relaxed with an effort. “Mary is not as bad as all that,” she said, firmly. “Even if that was the request, I trust that she wouldn’t allow such a thing. She has never done so before and I do not think that she would do so now. As much as she may not care for a young girl’s emotional state, I can assure you that she does consider their future with the greatest of care.”

  A look of relief passed over Helen’s features.

  “I had best go,” Laura finished, pressing Helen’s hand for a moment to take away the last traces of worry. “Thank you, Helen.”

  Swallowing hard, Laura straightened her skirts, lifted her chin and quickly made her way to towards Mary’s office. Whilst what Helen said did have some truth in it – for she herself had heard of gentlemen seeking out young ladies for rather selfish purposes, she did not think that Mary would ever allow such a thing to occur. That would bring down the rather stalwart reputation the orphanage had and, besides which, whilst Mary was very practical and not in the least emotional, Laura had every confidence that she would never send one of her girls to such a terrible future, even if all the money in the world were offered. One thing Mary Sanders had was principles, and she stuck to them without the slightest deviation.

  With this in mind, Laura knocked on the door with confidence, her curiosity growing with every moment as she wondered what this fine lady had come for and, even more so, why she had been requested to attend.

  “Enter.”

  Mary’s sharp voice bid her come in and, with a deep breath, Laura opened the door and stepped inside, letting it close softly behind her.

  3

  Alice was rather tired from her long journey back to London but, on seeing the young lady step through the door, felt herself brighten at once. This young lady appeared to be around her own age and had sharp blue eyes that darted to herself and then back towards Miss Sanders. She bobbed a curtsy before Miss Sanders even had the opportunity to introduce them, inclining her head just as she ought.

  “My lady, this is Miss Laura Smith, who has employment here at the orphanage,” Miss Sanders said, by way of explanation. “Laura, this is Lady Alice, sister to the Duke of Royston.”

  “My lady,” Miss Smith murmured, inclining her head again. “We are honored to have your presence here.”

  Alice said nothing, quietly thinking to herself just how very well spoken this young lady was.

  “She grew up here in the orphanage, before I took over,” Miss Sanders continued, gesturing for Miss Smith to sit down. “But since then has taken employment here with the girls. She might be able to advise us a little better as to the matter you have brought to us, my lady.”

  “And what matter is that?”

  Alice was a little surprised at the frankness of this young Miss Smith, seeing her blue eyes filled with something like concern. What did she think Alice was here to suggest?

  “I am here in order to find a young girl that will bring joy to my brother’s house,” she said, clearly. “I thought you might wish to aid and advise me in that, Miss Smith.”

  Even more astonished at the glare that then came from Miss Smith, Alice blinked rapidly and sat up a little straighter in her chair. Clearly, she had displeased Miss Smith somehow, but had very little idea as to how she had managed to do so.

  “May I ask, my lady, what kind of ‘joy’ your brother is looking for?” Miss Smith asked, her fingers knotting in her lap. “There are young, vulnerable girls here and I do not think that –”

  “Ah,” Alice interrupted, understanding at once and feeling a sense of horror overtake her. “No, indeed, Miss Smith. You misunderstand me, although I can understand why. I will not be the first member of the gentry to come seeking a young girl for less than honest purposes, I would think.”

  Miss Smith’s jaw clenched whilst Miss Sanders gasped in horror.

  “My dear lady, I can only apologize,” Miss Sanders exclaimed, shaking one finger at Miss Smith. “Laura, you must express your regret at such a lewd suggestion at once!”

  “No, indeed,” Alice interrupted again, finding the fact that Miss Smith had asked such a question to be, in fact, rather pleasing. “I am glad that Miss Smith seeks to ensure the good of her girls. It is quite understandable that she should ask something like this, Miss Sanders, given that you only wish the best for the girls in your care. As Miss Smith states, they are already vulnerable.”

  She turned her gaze onto Miss Sanders, who, looking somewhat nonplussed for a moment, inclined her head again and then turned back to Laura, her eyes still a little narrowed.

  “Thank you, my lady,” Miss Smith murmured, gently. “I do apologize most sincerely if I have insulted you in any way but, as you say yourself, this would not be the first occasion that gentry have sought out young girls for themselves.”

  Alice nodded, wondering if this young lady would be amenable to returning to the country with her. She might, she thought, bring a little spark back to the house, back to John’s soul.

  “May I ask, then, what ‘joy’ it is that you are seeking for your brother?” Miss Smith continued, her eyes still fixed on Alice’s.

  Alice held nothing back, choosing to speak frankly with both Miss Sanders and Miss Smith, even though they were by no means her equals. The truth was that she had been struggling with what to do in order to help John heal. After six months of being in his country estate, she had seen him fade into himself all the more, and with the Season fast approaching, she was growing somewhat desperate. Sometimes she had mentioned to John that she would remain at home instead of returning to London for the Season, but he would not hear of it. This was the only idea she had come up with and, with only a few months left until she returned to London herself, she was growing somewhat desperate.

  “My brother lost his wife in childbirth some two years ago now,” she began, slowly. “It was a very difficult time for him, as you can imagine. Since then, he has been thrown into a deep darkness that he is struggling to escape from. This is not over any sort of love for his late wife, I confess, but rather for the child that died. He has always been rather fond of children, which is somewhat unusual for a Duke, but regardless, I cannot pull him from his misery. I have tried and failed completely. Since I am returning to London for the Season, I thought to come here and seek a young girl to return with me to the estate for a time. Perhaps the joy a child can bring will be all that is required for my brother to finally return to himself.”

  There was a short silence, where Alice looked from Miss Sanders to Miss Smith and found entirely different expressions on their faces. Miss Sanders appeared delighted, as she had done the moment Alice had greeted her, whereas Miss Smith appeared rather conflicted.

  “This child would then remain with you for a few months, before returning to London and to the orphanage?” she said, slowly, her eyes revealing her concern. “That is all?”

  Alice felt herself color. “We will, of course, ensure that the child has a good deal of money set aside for her once she returns here, by way of payment, I suppose. That way, she will have a decent future, at least. And, of course, there will be some recompense towards the orphanage also.”

  “You are very kind,” Miss Sanders said at once, leaning slightly for
ward in her chair. “I think that we can easily consider your request. Miss Smith, what about Elouise? She is charming, polite and quite quiet.”

  “Although she is not particularly happy at the moment, Miss Sanders,” came the quick reply. “If anything, such an event could brighten her spirits, only to bring them crashing down again when she returns.”

  Miss Sanders frowned. “Not if she knows her future is secure,” she pointed, out quickly. “As Lady Alice has stated, once she returns here she will have the knowledge that, once she reaches her majority, she will be able to live a most comfortable life compared to the rest of the girls here.”

  From Alice’s perspective, this did not appear to bring Miss Smith any consolation.

  “I am looking for a child to bring happiness,” she reminded them both. “If this Elouise is somewhat distraught at the moment, then I cannot think that –”

  “She will be delighted at such an opportunity,” Miss Sanders declared, sounding quite sure of herself. “She will be a delight to both you and your brother, I am quite sure of it. Besides which, she comes from a rather better background than most, so will know decent manners and the like.”

  This made Alice suddenly all the more certain that this young Elouise would fit into the household marvelously. “Wonderful,” she said, firmly. “Of course, if the arrangement does not work out, then I shall return the child and ensure that payment is made, as discussed before.”

  Miss Smith cleared her throat, sitting forward in her chair. “My lady,” she began quietly. “I fear that this will do Elouise more harm than good. She will go with you, to a place she has no knowledge of and certainly will be rather afraid at the beginning. She will have no one to turn to, no one to reassure her. Trust is not something that is simply created in a moment, if you will pardon my saying so, which means that she will not turn to you for reassurance. In fact, she will, most likely, turn away from you. Then, should the situation not work out as you hope, she will be sent back more confused and afraid than ever before. Her life has already been thrown into disarray with the loss of her parents and I do not wish to see her so troubled again.”