She fell to her knees in front of the child. ‘Tell us where you live. Let us take you home.’
The girl looked up at Leo. He smiled down into her upturned face.
‘Do you live in the village?’
She shook her head. Rosalind frowned. If she didn’t live in the village, where were her parents?
Rosalind put her fingers to the girl’s cheek to turn her face to her. Heavens, the child was thin. ‘What is your name?’
‘Susie.’
‘And where is your mama?’
Those huge eyes filled with tears. ‘No mama.’
‘Your papa?’
‘No papa.’
‘Where do you sleep, Susie?’
Her thumb stole into her mouth and she mumbled a reply. Leo crouched next to Rosalind and gently pulled her thumb away from her face. ‘Tell us again, sweetie. You will not get into trouble. Did you run away?’
The child had begun to shake and, with a muttered exclamation, Leo scooped her into his arms and rose to his feet.
‘I will not leave her here for those lads to terrorise,’ he said, striding out of the store. ‘I must find out what has happened.’
By the light of the sun, they could see Susie’s true condition: skin and bone and covered with scratches and sores. Not to mention her swollen nose, which still trickled blood.
‘Bloody hell!’
Rosalind, behind Leo, saw his back expand as he sucked in a deep breath. ‘My apologies for my language, but I cannot...’ He faced her. ‘I regret cutting our ride short, ma’am, but I must take this little one...’ He paused, frowning, an unaccustomed look of indecision in his grey eyes. ‘Hmm.’
‘Will you take her to your cousin’s house? Would he be...amenable, do you think?’
‘That is a very good question. But where else—’
‘Let us take her to Stoney End,’ Rosalind said. Penny would complain, without a doubt, but that was neither here nor there.
‘But...’ Leo flicked his head in the direction of the village. ‘Do you not need to go into the village?’
‘I only intended to fetch my brother’s newspaper—he orders one daily from London—and to collect any post. I can come again later. We shall take Susie to Stoney End.’
Chapter Seven
Rosalind watched as Leo smiled down at the form huddled against his chest. She wondered at the tenderness in his sometimes hard and often aloof expression.
‘Thank you. That is a relief.’ He crouched down again and gently persuaded Susie to stand. ‘Stay there a moment, Susie, while I help the lady on to her horse. Then you shall come for a ride with me.’
Susie stared up at Leo’s bay, terror in her eyes. Before Rosalind could warn Leo to take care, he clasped Rosalind by the waist and swung her on to Kamal’s back. There was a flash of movement behind Leo and Susie was haring up the lane away from the village.
‘Leo. Be quick. She’s running away.’
‘Damn it!’
Leo spun round and set off in pursuit. With his longer strides, he soon overtook Susie and scooped her off the ground. She screeched, kicking and wriggling.
Rosalind reached for the bay’s reins and led him to Leo. At the sight of the horses, Susie stopped struggling for a moment, her face filled with horror, then she started to struggle again, biting at the arm that Leo had wrapped around her chest.
‘You little...’ Leo clamped his lips against whatever he had been about to say. ‘Stay still!’ His voice commanded and Susie instantly obeyed, just as Hector had on the day they first met. Keeping a secure grip of her shoulders, he crouched before her again. ‘What is wrong?’
Susie gulped and shook her head.
‘I think she is frightened of the horse,’ Rosalind said. The child’s panic had only started after Leo mentioned riding his bay.
‘Is that it? Are you scared of my horse?’
Susie nodded, her mouth quivering, eyes swimming, and Rosalind’s heart melted. She was just a child. She should not be out here, alone, fending for herself.
‘But he will be so sad if you don’t like him,’ Leo said. ‘Come. Stroke his nose and you will see how soft it is.’ He hefted Susie into his arms again and held out his hand to the horse. ‘His name is Conqueror and he is very kind. Especially to children.’
Rosalind could see how tightly Susie clutched at Leo’s jacket with one hand, but she allowed him to guide her other hand to touch Conqueror’s nose. The horse stood like a statue, as though he sensed Susie’s fear.
‘See how his whiskers tickle,’ Leo then said, moving Susie’s hand to touch the horse’s whiskers.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Susie’s mouth and Leo caught Rosalind’s eye and winked. And in that moment...in that split second...she fell in love. And with that knowledge came a terrible sadness, for she knew this was but a fleeting interlude in her life. Leo Boyton belonged to a world in which there was no place for Rosalind, a world to which she had no wish to belong. He would be gone soon and they would never meet again.
She swallowed, her throat aching, and smiled at him, praying her eyes did not reveal her sorrow. She had read of love at first sight. This might not be first sight, but there had been an undeniable connection between them from that first meeting. Physical attraction...but this...this was different. Deeper. More. This was about the man himself, not his handsome face.
Whilst Rosalind had been deep in thought, Leo had cajoled and persuaded Susie to allow him to lift her on to Conqueror’s saddle. The instant she was up there, he swung up into the saddle behind her and wrapped his arm around her, holding her secure. He nudged Conqueror into a walk, heading towards Stoney End.
* * *
Penny’s plump cheeks quivered. ‘Madam! You cannot expect—’
‘I expect, Penny...’ Rosalind shot a glance at Susie—sitting at the kitchen table chewing on a slice of bread and dripping—and lowered her voice ‘...that you will do as I ask and bring more water for a bath.’
Penny had been washing a few clothes in the outhouse they used for the laundry when Rosalind had gone to collect a hip bath and to request a pail of warm water.
‘But...you cannot just take a child and keep her without so much as a by-your-leave. Even if she is an orphan, someone must have been taking care of her and will miss her.’
‘Does it look as though anyone was taking care of her? She is starving.’
‘Well, if she is so ungrateful as to run away from them that have responsibility for her, ’tis no surprise, that’s all I have to say,’ Penny muttered as she tipped the bucket of water into the bath that Rosalind had placed before the kitchen fire.
‘What is going on?’ Freddie stood framed in the kitchen doorway, Hector at his heels. ‘Penny, your voice is peculiarly penetrating. I could hear every word from the parlour. What... Oh, g’morning, Boyton, didn’t see you there. And who is this? Is this what you are quarrelling about?’
‘Good morning, Allen.’ Leo pushed away from the door jamb he had been leaning against and came further into the room. ‘Might I introduce you to Susie? Your sister has agreed to house her for a few days until I can make other arrangements.’
‘And we are not quarrelling, Freddie.’ Rosalind cast a scathing look at Penny. ‘It is merely a lively discourse on the best way to proceed with this unexpected addition to our household.’
‘Oh, very well articulated,’ Leo murmured in an amused voice.
Rosalind shot him a sharp look, which he met with a nonchalant lift of his dark brows, and she felt shame at giving voice to her exasperation.
‘I’m sorry, Penny,’ she said. ‘As Mr Boyton says, it will only be for a few days but, in the meantime, if Susie is to remain here, she needs a bath.’
‘Yes, madam.’ Penny, too, looked somewhat chastened, and s
he headed once more for the back door. ‘I’ll fetch another bucketful.’
Freddie came into the kitchen and sat opposite Susie, propping his crutch against the table. Susie fixed her gaze on it.
‘What’s that?’ she asked around a mouthful of bread.
‘That is a crutch,’ Freddie said. ‘I need it to help me walk.’
‘Why?’
‘I had an accident when I was young and now my leg doesn’t work as it should.’
Susie looked at Leo, eyes beseeching. ‘Can I have a crutch?’
‘You do not need a—’
‘Doggy!’
Rosalind winced at the volume of Susie’s shriek. Hector had followed Freddie into the kitchen and had made straight for Susie, who beamed as Hector pushed his nose against her. Before Rosalind could stop her, Susie fed the remainder of her bread and dripping to the dog.
‘Susie, you must not feed the dog at the table,’ Rosalind said.
‘Why?’
‘Because it will encourage him to beg. We do not want Hector to think he can pester us for food at mealtimes, do we?’
‘Why?’
‘This,’ said Freddie, ‘looks promising. I expect the urchin and the hound to provide me with endless entertainment. Don’t be in too much of a hurry to make alternative arrangements for her, will you, Boyton? I am grateful for anything that might alleviate the tedium of this isolation.’
His words squeezed Rosalind’s heart. Freddie’s growing restlessness fed her guilt, but there was nothing she could do. His withered leg would never allow him to be active like other men. Their only hope was to return to Lydney and take up their old existence. At least there, Freddie had his library and his piano, and his quiet cob he could ride and drive about the estate. Here, he had nothing apart from a few favourite books and his sketch pad and—as he had said more than once—what earthly good was a sketch pad when he could go nowhere worth sketching?
Leo laughed at Freddie’s comment. ‘I am in no position to arrange anything else for Susie whilst I am staying at Halsdon Manor, but I have connections with an orphan asylum in London so she could go there. I am sure your sister will not want her to stay indefinitely.’
‘You leave Ros to me,’ Freddie said, with a wink.
Penny returned, carrying another bucket and grumbling under her breath about the bath using up all the water she had heated for the laundry. ‘But there—no one else will have the worry of it, so it doesn’t signify.’
‘The first thing we should do is to make enquiries in the village,’ Leo said. ‘I cannot be of help in bathing Susie, so I shall go now. I will return later and tell you any news.’ He made for the door.
‘And I should go and see to Kamal,’ Rosalind said, following him. She had done no more than loosen his girth and throw a blanket over his quarters when they arrived back at Stoney End.
‘Leave Kamal to me, Mrs Pryce, I shall attend to him.’ Leo indicated Susie with a flick of his head. ‘I suggest you will be of far more use here.’
Rosalind hesitated in the doorway, dismayed by the flood of disappointment triggered by his words. What had she hoped for? The opportunity to spend a little more time with him...the chance to store away a few precious memories? Her common sense warned her it was pure foolishness for her to be alone with him and risk certain heartache. Why would she wish to play with fire when it would be her who suffered the burns?
‘Thank you, Mr Boyton. I appreciate the offer. And, as you are going to the village, would you be so kind as to collect Freddie’s paper?’
‘Of course. I shall see you later.’
The door clicked shut behind him.
‘And I will be in the sitting room if you have need of me,’ Freddie said. ‘There is nothing I can do to help here.’
He left, but Hector remained, enjoying Susie’s attention. Rosalind and Penny set about divesting Susie of her ragged clothes. As her skinny torso came into view, Rosalind clapped her hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp.
‘Oh, the poor little mite,’ Penny said, her eyes filling with tears.
Tamping down her horror, Rosalind finished stripping Susie and Penny gathered the discarded clothing. Holding them at arm’s length, she headed for the back door.
‘These are only fit for burning,’ she said. ‘Though Heaven knows what the poor mite will wear after her bath.’
Susie sat in the bath, flinching even though Rosalind soaped her back as gently as she could. Every rib could be seen and felt but, more disturbingly, the child’s back was striped with welts: some mere silvered stripes, others raised and, in places, scratchy with scabs where the skin had been broken.
‘Would you fetch the salve, please, Penny?’ Rosalind said when the maid returned.
‘I think it’s too late for salve, ma’am. These are too old now to benefit from ointments.’ She lifted a jug of clean, warm water she had set aside. ‘Close your eyes, child. I need to rinse your hair.’ Her former brusqueness when speaking to Susie was gone. She raised apologetic eyes to meet Rosalind’s. ‘You did a good deed, bringing her here.’
‘Thank you, Penny.’
Hot tears stung Rosalind’s eyes and swelled her throat. The last thing Susie needed was to see Rosalind in tears. What she needed now was calm and quiet, to help her to settle. And Hector—who nuzzled Susie’s wet hair, making her giggle as Penny wrapped her in a towel.
‘I shall leave you to dry Susie if I may, Penny? I need to speak with Freddie.’
Freddie was sitting in the parlour, forearms propped on his knees, staring into the fire, when Rosalind joined him. He started, then relaxed back into his chair.
‘How is she?’
‘Beaten and bruised.’
‘Where did you find her, Ros? Are you sure you have done the right thing in taking her in?’
‘If you saw the state of her back, Freddie, you would not ask such a thing.’ She told him how they had found Susie being tormented by village lads and that Susie had told them she had no parents.
‘But someone, somewhere, must have been caring for her.’
‘Those beatings are not all recent, Freddie. Mr Boyton might discover something about her in Malton, but I suspect she has come from further afield. Although how she has survived, I do not know.’
Freddie resumed his contemplation of the flames. Rosalind studied her beloved brother, hating that he was so unhappy, helpless to know how to make things right.
‘What can I do, Freddie?’
‘Do? Why, you have already done what you can for her, Ros, and now you can do little other than wait and see what, if anything, Boyton uncovers. Besides, he said he will take her when he goes back to London.’
The knot of sadness that had lodged in her chest wound tighter at the reminder Leo did not belong here, that he would soon resume his life as a society gentleman and Rosalind would never see him again. Without volition, her fingers sought her locket, rubbing over the moulded design of three daisies with seed pearls set in their centres. She was accustomed to loss... Papa, Grandpa, Mama, Step-Papa...and soon Nell would also leave her for good, to live her own life with a new husband and a family of her own.
‘That is not what I meant.’ She must concentrate on Freddie, not dwell upon her own selfish needs. ‘I meant, what can I do for you? How can I help?’
Freddie huffed a laugh. ‘You already do more than enough, Ros.’
‘But you are unhappy...dissatisfied. Should we go home to Lydney? Now Nell is in London there is nothing to stop us, if you should prefer it. I have no great desire to remain here.’
‘We cannot go back while Sir Peter remains. I refuse to expose you to more of his disrespect.’
‘I dare say he sees no reason he should treat either of us with respect.’ A heartfelt sigh escaped Rosalind before she could stop it. ‘And we may ha
ve no choice. We shall have to return in a few months anyway, for Jack’s sake. I can only pray that Nell does find a husband—he, for certain, will help us to deal with Sir Peter.’
‘She had better find a husband,’ Freddie said, ‘or there will be nothing to stop Tadlow marrying her off to Bulbridge after all.’ He fixed his gaze on Rosalind. ‘How did you come to meet up with Boyton again, Ros?’
She caught her breath. She had hoped Freddie would not question her about that, but she was saved from answering by a loud rap at the front door. She jumped to her feet, knowing Penny was busy with Susie.
Rosalind opened the front door, and her heart plummeted at the sight of Anthony Lascelles on the doorstep. She stepped forward to block the gap, clutching at the edges of both the door and the door frame.
‘Good morning, sir.’
Lascelles raised his hat and smiled. A shocked tremor sped through her as she was reminded how much he resembled Leo: the same height and build, the same dark, straight brows and the same black hair.
‘Good morning to you, Mrs Pryce. I do not blame you for a frosty welcome, but dare I hope a heartfelt apology for my previous behaviour might melt at the least the outer layer of your icy carapace?’
‘Apology?’ Rosalind scanned his face, reading nothing but sincerity in his expression.
‘Indeed. I fear I was somewhat...forward in my dealings with you and I humbly apologise. I can assure you it will not happen again. It was a case of mistaken identity.’
‘You thought it acceptable to proposition me because you thought me too insignificant to warrant your respect?’
‘No, not all, Mrs Pryce. I am mortified you should believe so badly of me. Might I not persuade you that I was overcome by your beauty and allowed my enthusiasm to override my manners? I have lived overseas for too many years and am consequently unpractised in the exacting standards expected of a gentleman. I beg you will forgive me.’
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