A Simple Lady

by Carolynn Carey

  Elizabeth grimaced. “Mary told me about the gambling but I didn’t know the rest.”

  Kenrick continued. “When my own father showed no interest in caring for his brother’s orphaned son, Mother brought Gerald to Aston Arbor and treated him as though he were her own. She loved him dearly, but she never really knew him. I did. I knew for many years that Gerald was a dangerous, perhaps even an evil person. He felt he’d been unfairly treated by fate, knowing that had his father been born before mine, he would have been in my shoes, with my wealth and my prospects for the title. He did all in his power to make my life miserable when we were boys, and I, perhaps unwisely, did everything in my power to hide his true nature from my mother. She’d already suffered so much disillusionment, I didn’t want her to be hurt again. But I tell you now, Elizabeth, Gerald is a dangerous man. Please, make whatever excuses you deem necessary, but do not spend time alone in his company.”

  Elizabeth had been watching Kenrick’s eyes as he talked. She felt certain he was telling the truth, or at least the truth as he perceived it. And she believed him. Despite any evidence to the contrary, she believed him, and she trusted him. “I want to go with you to Oak Groves,” she said softly, gazing into his eyes with trust shining in her own.

  Kenrick’s eyes brightened. With a triumphant smile, he pulled Elizabeth into his arms. “I would like nothing better than to have you at my side, dear one,” he murmured, holding her close. “But I can’t allow you to go. It could very well be dangerous. I do not know what might happen at Oak Groves next.”

  Snuggled into her husband’s arms, Elizabeth realized she had never felt safer, but that feeling, she feared, was merely an illusion. “You believe Gerald is guilty of the incidents at Oak Groves,” she said softly.

  Kenrick took a deep breath. “I have not said so.”

  “No,” Elizabeth agreed. “Nor would you without proof. But I know what you are thinking, and I want to understand why. Please explain to me what Gerald would gain by creating trouble at Oak Groves.”

  Kenrick smiled sadly. “I would be delighted to share my thoughts with you, dear heart, if only I had time. Unfortunately, I must go now. Please, Elizabeth, take care of yourself.”

  Before Elizabeth could respond, he gently brushed her lips with his own and then wrapped her in a fierce embrace, kissing her with great urgency for a few seconds before sliding his lips along her cheek.

  “Oh, my dearest Elizabeth,” he whispered into her ear. “There is so much I want to say to you when there is time. Rest assured, I shall return as quickly as possible. Please, my dearest, be careful in my absence.”

  Elizabeth had time only to nod before he turned and strode from the room. Nearly dazed, she stared for long seconds at the space where he had stood, wishing him back, wishing herself still in the comforting and exhilarating embrace of his arms.

  There was no question of going back to sleep. Her thoughts were in too much turmoil to allow for any sort of rest. She paced the confines of her bedchamber for several minutes before throwing herself across the bed and staring out through her window at the now-blue sky. Questions, unanswerable questions, persisted in careening about in her mind. What reasons could Gerald have for instigating the problems at Oak Groves? Could Gerald really be guilty of shooting Homer Smithfield in the back and burning down the cottages of innocent tenants?

  Thinking back, Elizabeth could not imagine how Gerald could be guilty of setting the fires at Oak Groves last evening. He had been at the Elldon’s ball, at least for the first dance. And as for Smithfield’s shooting, Elizabeth recalled that Gerald had been at Kenrick House when news came of the bailiff’s injury. Of course Gerald could have hired someone to shoot Smithfield, but, again, what did he stand to gain? Unless— Could Gerald have ambitions of standing in his cousin’s shoes? Could the incidents at the estate be a prelude to an attempt on Jeremy’s life?

  Elizabeth sat up quickly. Surely Gerald would not harm Jeremy. Surely. She moaned softly, aware of how important Jeremy’s welfare had become to her.

  “My lady, you are up early.” Elizabeth’s maid had eased the door open and now stood staring in surprise. Within seconds, however, Peggy had conquered her emotions and donned the mask of impassivity expected of most servants. “Do you wish your chocolate brought up now, your ladyship?”

  Elizabeth stifled a sigh. Peggy was very efficient, but she had always resisted stepping out of her assigned role to establish any sort of relationship, no matter how superficial, with her mistress. It was days like this when Elizabeth missed Mattie the most.

  Mattie, with her innate practicality, would have advised Elizabeth to stop worrying about what she could not change. But Mattie had sent word that her ankle was slow to heal and she feared she would be more of a burden than a help if she were to join Elizabeth in London. Aware from the tone of Mattie’s letters that she was quite happy living with the Freemans at Cramdon Cottage, Elizabeth had urged her to stay, despite knowing that she must learn to forego her old friend’s always practical advice.

  “Easier said than done,” Elizabeth murmured to herself.

  “I beg your pardon, your ladyship?”

  “Nothing. Do you suppose Billy is up yet?”

  Peggy lifted her nose a notch. “Yes, your ladyship. That little friend of his was at the kitchen door first thing this morning. Billy finished his chores in the kitchen, and Mr. Larkman let him go on up to the schoolroom.”

  “Then I shall join him. Please ring for some hot water and lay out my blue muslin. I wish to dress immediately.”

  Elizabeth found Billy and Johnny playing in the schoolroom floor with a rather battered set of toy soldiers. The boys’ faces were glowing with pleasure at their pretend war games, and Elizabeth was reluctant to disturb them. After all, she suspected that neither child had enjoyed many opportunities for play in the past, so she seated herself quietly and indicated that they were to continue their game.

  Finally, when Johnny claimed victory for his set of scratched and dented warriors, Elizabeth called the two boys to her side. “Where did you get the toy soldiers, Billy?” she asked. Billy smiled but made no effort to respond. Instead, he made several swift movements with his fingers, and Johnny passed his message along to Elizabeth.

  “Billy says that his lordship found ’em in the attic and brought ’em down for him to play with.”

  “His lordship? Are you sure?” Elizabeth asked, trying to swallow the lump that had leapt into her throat. Could this be the set of soldiers Gerald claimed to have seen reduced to a lump of metal in the schoolroom fireplace at Aston Arbor?

  Billy nodded vigorously before making several more signs with his fingers.

  “His lordship told Billy he used to love to play with these soldiers when he was a boy,” Johnny interpreted. “He told Billy he brought them here and hid them to keep them safe.”

  Elizabeth clenched her fists at her sides to hide the fact that her hands were trembling. “Safe from whom?” she asked in a voice that was not quite steady.

  More hand motions from Billy led to a shrug on Johnny’s part. “Some boy that used to play with his lordship. Billy doesn’t know any more than that.”

  Not wanting the boys to realize how upset she was, Elizabeth stood quickly and hurried to the window where she stood staring blindly into the street below. Gerald had lied to her about the toy soldiers. Kenrick had never thrown them into the fire at all. He had, in fact, tried to protect them, probably from Gerald.

  Why had Gerald told such a blatant falsehood? Feeling lightheaded from shock, Elizabeth struggled to recall the rest of Gerald’s conversation that day in the park. He had spoken of Kenrick’s aversion to anything that was less than perfect, warning her to protect Billy from her husband’s strange prejudices. And she had assumed those prejudices would extend to her.

  What a fool she had been. Had not her husband proven time and time again this past summer that he possessed no aversions to imperfection. He had befriended Billy and gone out of his way t
o be kind to her. In what other ways, she wondered, had she misjudged her husband?

  But there was no time to consider the matter further. Billy was handing her a book, a hopeful expression on his face, and Johnny was pulling her back toward her chair, obviously anticipating the prospect of being read to. Elizabeth spent the next hour reading aloud from Billy’s favorite book.

  But while Elizabeth automatically voiced the words that were keeping the two boys enthralled, her mind insisted upon flitting from one anxiety to another. Could Gerald really be guilty of instigating the problems at Oak Groves? Was her husband in danger from his cousin? Did Kenrick realize how badly she had misjudged him? If so, could he ever forgive her?

  “Miz Elizabeth?”

  Elizabeth glanced up to see that Johnny was watching her closely, a worried expression in his beautiful eyes. Johnny was, in fact, a very handsome little lad, with his dark hair, round face, and long dark eyelashes surrounding deep blue eyes.

  “Yes, Johnny?”

  “Billy’s worried about you. He says you look unhappy this morning. Is there something wrong?”

  Touched both by Billy’s concern and his perceptiveness, Elizabeth smiled and reached to playfully tousle his carroty hair.

  “Now what could be wrong, my kind little friend?” she asked. “I am sure no lady in London is as lucky as I am this morning, to have as companions two such handsome young men.”

  Billy grinned, although the concern in his eyes didn’t fade. Nor did Johnny appear convinced. “Billy’s right,” he said. “There are some sad thoughts troubling ye today. But, if ye don’t want to share your troubles—”

  “Johnny,” Elizabeth interrupted, suddenly recalling a question she had intended to ask the boy when next she saw him. “I’ve been wondering how you located Billy after I brought him here.”

  She was surprised to note a sudden and sincere grin light Billy’s face, even as his fingers began to hastily form the motions that served as his communication with Johnny. Johnny watched for only seconds before a hint of color rose in his round cheeks.

  Ducking his head, he translated: “Billy says to tell you there ain’t nobody in London can track down a person like me. I learnt it from my Pa, who was a Runner afore he died.”

  “Your father was a Bow Street Runner?”

  “Yes’m.”

  “Do you now live with your mother, Johnny?”

  “No’m. She’s dead, too. I live with my oldest sister, but she’s got three younguns of ’er own and don’t have much time for me.”

  “I see,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “Well, you must feel free to visit me and Billy whenever you wish. You may also join him for his reading and writing lessons every morning.”

  The expression on Johnny’s face didn’t suggest he was overjoyed by Elizabeth’s offer of free lessons, but he didn’t have time to reply. A knock on the door heralded Larkman’s entrance, followed by a solemn announcement that Gerald was below requesting Elizabeth’s company for his morning ride.

  Elizabeth jumped to her feet. She should have been expecting a visit from Gerald, but somehow she wasn’t really prepared. “Thank you, Larkman,” she said, a bit unsteadily. “Please extend my apologies to Gerald and explain to him that I am not feeling quite the thing this morning. In fact, I believe I’ll retire to my bedchamber immediately and rest for a while.”

  She hurried to the door, then paused and glanced back. Billy and Johnny were exchanging concerned glances, but when they saw her looking at them, both boys quickly nodded and smiled as though attempting to assure her that they weren’t worried about her at all. She wished she could stay and reassure them, but since she’d sent word to Gerald that she was going to her bedchamber immediately, she had no other option.

  She left the schoolroom and hurried down the corridor, wishing she was a good deal more adept at concocting convincing excuses. After all, she really hoped to be able to avoid Gerald completely in the days to come.

  Chapter Twenty

  Elizabeth spent two harrowing days avoiding Gerald’s invitations and trying to placate Mary’s concerns. Never good at dissembling, she feared she had aroused the suspicions of both by her steadfast refusal to leave the house. She arose reluctantly on the third morning of Kenrick’s absence, aware she couldn’t spend another day claiming to feel too ill to ride with Gerald and too tired to attend parties with Mary. Any more protestations about feeling poorly and Mary was going to send for the doctor.

  This morning, having gone down to breakfast as usual, Elizabeth was thrilled to note that the skies were clouding up. Rain would provide an excellent excuse for declining should Gerald arrive with another invitation to join him for a morning ride.

  But Gerald didn’t appear that morning. Elizabeth, after working with Billy for a couple of hours in the schoolroom, decided to take advantage of this opportunity to begin teaching him his responsibilities as her page. She wasn’t certain herself what those responsibilities should be, but she decided to begin by familiarizing him with the various rooms in the house, reasoning that he would need such information if she were ever to send him on errands for her.

  They had reached the dining room when Mary appeared. “My dear Elizabeth, should you be up? Are you feeling better today?”

  “Thank you for your concern, Mary. I feel very well today and am showing Billy around the house.”

  “Really, dear? Why?”

  Because he is to be my page and must know where various rooms are located in case I wish to ask him to, say, fetch my handkerchief which I left in another part of the house.”

  “Your page?” Mary was regarding the homely little boy with no small degree of skepticism.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth replied firmly. “He will make a wonderful page. Now, if you will excuse us, I wish to familiarize him with the drawing room.”

  “I’ll join you. I had intended to see if I left my needlework in there last evening.”

  After Elizabeth described for Billy the bag in which her mother-in-law carried her needlework, he began industriously searching behind chairs and under tables. Elizabeth decided to help and was looking beneath a chair cushion when Gerald was announced.

  He entered the drawing room on Larkman’s heels and returned Mary’s pleasant greeting with a distracted air. When he turned to Elizabeth, he scrutinized her carefully. “Are you feeling better today, dear Cousin?” he asked.

  At Elizabeth’s affirmative answer, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. “I am so pleased, both for your sake and for my own. I fear, my dear, that you see before you a gentleman deeply in need of assistance, and I can think of no one except you who might be able to help me.”

  Gerald did look disheveled this morning, Elizabeth noted when he had lowered himself into a chair. His cravat was tied much more casually than usual. His coat was wrinkled, his boots dusty, and his hair wind-blown.

  “What’s wrong, Gerald?” she asked, concerned by the near feverish glitter in his eyes.

  “I’ve just endured a most unsettling experience. Under ordinary circumstances, I would not sully the ears of ladies with the details, but you, Elizabeth, are the only person of my acquaintance who can possibly help the darling little girl.”

  “Girl?” Mary asked quickly. “What girl?”

  Gerald pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and blotted the perspiration that dotted his forehead. “It’s not a pretty story. Elizabeth, I wonder if I might have a glass of brandy.”

  Having never seen the immaculate Gerald so unnerved before, Elizabeth hurried to the sideboard to pour him a glass of strong spirits. She couldn’t help but notice that, when he took it from her with a murmur of thanks, his hand was shaking.

  “Don’t keep us in suspense, Gerald,” she said. “What has occurred to upset you so much?”

  Gerald swallowed half of the brandy before lowering the glass. Then he grimaced before beginning his story. “You ladies are perhaps not aware that in this city, there are hundreds of private residences used to house the insane o
r, in many cases, to incarcerate unfortunate people who have been inaccurately declared deranged by those who should be their protectors.”

  “What do you mean, Gerald?” Mary asked sharply.

  Gerald shrugged. “It is one of the disgraces of our time—a practice that is not widely known but frequently occurs. Let us say, for example, that a husband tires of his troublesome wife and wants to be rid of her. It’s a simple matter for him to incarcerate her in one of the private homes that supposedly serve as asylums for the insane. He pays to have her locked up in a tiny chamber which she may have to share with other people who are actually demented. The conditions in such places are usually deplorable, for although Bedlam and St. Luke’s are subject to government control, these private madhouses are not.”

  Elizabeth felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. “What do you know of such places, Gerald?” she asked.

  “The sister of one of my friends has disappeared, and her husband claims to have no knowledge of her whereabouts. My friend, who is conversant with his brother-in-law’s vices, suspects that his sister has been incarcerated in a house such as those I have described. He asked me to help search for her, and I agreed. We visited five of those deplorable places just this morning. In one of them, I found a darling little girl.”

  “A child in such a place?” Mary said, dismay clear in her tone.

  “Yes. She is just five years old, a beautiful little girl with golden hair and the deepest blue eyes I have ever seen. After I gave the proprietor a substantial bribe, he was willing to relate the little girl’s story. She is from a respectable family, but her father is terribly jealous of his wife. When the child was born with coloring different from either of her parents, the father, convinced the child was not his, refused to acknowledge her and paid a considerable sum to have her locked up in this house where her only companions are three elderly women who are totally mad.”