Jaded Moon (Ransomed Jewels Book 2)

by Laura Landon

  “I would like to make it my concern. I would like to do something that would not only benefit the tenants who live and work on St. Stephen’s, but those who live on Clythebrook as well.”

  “Lady Clythebrook’s tenants have never gone without.”

  “No. They haven’t. But Lady Clythebrook has. As have you.”

  Ross rose from his chair and turned his back to her mutinous glare. He stood facing the lifeless fireplace for a moment. When he turned, he aimed his words as well as his penetrating gaze directly at her. “If you won’t do it for yourself or Lady Clythebrook, then think about the children.”

  “How dare you.”

  “Who supports Sacred Heart Orphanage?”

  For a brief second, no one answered. Finally Lady Clythebrook spoke. “Lady Lindville often gives to the orphanage.”

  “And does she provide for all of their needs?”

  “She does what she can.”

  “And you…?”

  “I do what I can as well.” She lifted her chin and faced him with an inborn regal pride. “Josephine somehow finds enough to meet the children’s needs. We manage on what is left.”

  “Now I am offering you an opportunity to be assured there will always be money left. At no cost to you whatsoever.”

  Miss Foley lifted her chin and looked at Lady Clythebrook. “We’ll get by. We always have.”

  “But the land Lord Rainforth is talking about is of little use, Josephine. What would it hurt if—”

  “No!”

  Ross arched his eyebrows in question. “Is there a reason why that particular land cannot be used, Miss Foley?”

  “It’s not just that land. It’s all of it. We don’t want you on any of it.”

  “Is that true, Lady Clythebrook?”

  Ross stared at the small, fragile woman and waited. Confusion was written plainly on her face and Ross knew she was torn between the thought of doing what might be best for the people of Clythebrook, and Josephine Foley’s determination not to even consider his idea. She exhibited another slight hesitation then looked directly at him.

  “Can you guarantee that this venture will realize a profit?”

  “Not immediately, of course. But in a year at most—”

  “The children can’t wait a year,” Miss Foley argued even more emphatically. “They need food and clothing every day.”

  There was another long pause, then Lady Clythebrook set her cup and saucer on the small round table and looked at him. “I will consider it, Lord Rainforth. In the meantime, I want you to take Miss Foley out at your earliest convenience—”

  Lady Clythebrook held up her hand when Miss Foley started to object.

  “…and explain to her in detail everything you propose to do.”

  “Of course,” Ross said, nodding in respectful compliance.

  “If there’s anything with which she doesn’t agree, she’ll be free to voice her opposition, and an agreement will be reached before I make my final decision.”

  “That’s fair enough. I’m free tomorrow. Does that meet with your approval?” he asked, turning to where Miss Foley was standing rigidly beside her chair.

  Her look held a blatant warning and Ross knew there would be more than one item upon which the two of them disagreed.

  “Until tomorrow then,” he said, saying his farewell, then taking his leave.

  Tomorrow promised to be a very interesting day.

  Jaded Moon

  by Laura Landon

  Ransomed Jewels Series Book Two

  CHAPTER 5

  “He’s here!” Jenny, one of the older girls yelled, running down the footpath to where Josie sat on a blanket beneath a chestnut tree reading to the younger children. The sun was out and the temperature was more reminiscent of late May than early March. The day had been perfect—until now.

  Josie rose to her feet, then cast a quick glance up the path that led to the orphanage to make sure they were still safe. “Robbie. Charlie. Would you go with Jenny, please?”

  “But Miss Josie. You’re not done with the story yet,” Robbie said, looking at her with a confused frown on his face.

  “And you’re getting to the best part,” Charlie echoed, equally disappointed. “The baby bear’s gonna say, ‘Who’s been eating my porridge?’”

  “I know, but this is important.”

  Josie dropped the book onto the grass and rushed to where the two little boys stood. She put an arm around each small shoulder and turned them toward the path that led to the apple orchard. She was desperate to get them away before he saw them.

  “But we don’t want to go,” Charlie said, speaking for both of them. He was usually the one who took control. The one who spoke for Robbie even though Robbie was the older of the two.

  “I know you don’t, Charlie. But…” Josie knelt in front of them so she was eye level with the two four-year-olds. “If you go with Jenny now and mind everything she says, tonight when the rest of the children have to go to bed the three of us will stay up. We’ll sit in front of the fire in the study and I’ll read you the story.”

  “From the beginning?” Robbie asked.

  “From the beginning,” she agreed.

  “And can we have some hot chocolate?” Charlie asked, bobbing his head enthusiastically.

  “If you are very good and obey everything Jenny tells you to do.”

  “We will, Miss Josie!” they both chorused in unison. “We’ll be very good.”

  “Come on, Jenny,” Charlie said. “Miss Josie wants us to go down to the orchard and you’re to come with us.”

  “Mrs. Lambert will come to get you in a little while,” she told Jenny as the girl led the two little boys away. “And hurry.”

  Josie watched the two little boys until they were out of sight, then sat back down on the blanket to finish reading the story. She’d known he would come today. He’d said as much yesterday when he left Lady Clythebrook’s. And if she couldn’t keep him away, she might as well use his presence to her advantage. She’d let him see all the children who were approximately the age of the child he’d come to find; all of them except the one for whom he was searching. She’d never let him see that one. She’d never let one of her children go to someone with his reputation. It would be like throwing Charlie to the devil.

  Josie looked at the children sitting at her feet, many of them with backgrounds no different than the child the marquess sought. A nagging question ate away at her. Why did he want to remove Charlie from Sacred Heart? What better place was there for an unwanted child than an orphanage? That was the solution most commonly adhered to by members of the nobility.

  Bastard children were unfortunate mistakes that needed to be dispensed with. Well, she’d take care of his mistake for him. Little Charlie didn’t need to spend his whole life waiting for his father to come back to get him like she had. It was better if the boy thought his father was dead. Better if he didn’t have a face to put with the name of the man who would never love him.

  She focused again on her story, saying the words with no thought to what she was reading. After every sentence, she cast a glance toward the orphanage and felt an intense sense of relief when the path remained empty. But she knew it wouldn’t be long. Mrs. Lambert promised to keep him occupied long enough to get the boys safely hidden, then bring him where she had the children gathered so he could inspect them. Maybe when he was satisfied the child he was looking for wasn’t here, he’d leave them alone and continue his search elsewhere.

  Josie looked up the path again then back to the words on her page. Not only did she have to keep him away from the orphanage, but from Clythebrook as well. For at least a month. He could ruin everything if she didn’t.

  Her last thought came to an abrupt halt. He was close. The tingle at the back of her neck told her he was. She read on, keeping her voice normal as she concentrated on the words that swam before her. One by one every small pair of eyes moved to a spot high above her right shoulder. But still she read on. She woul
d give him adequate time to take note of each child. To wonder if the child he was searching for was here.

  She waited a few more agonizing seconds, then closed the book and placed it in her lap. She steadied herself, then lifted her gaze.

  He stepped in front of her to block the sunlight and she had a perfect view of his features. He was magnificently handsome, but the somber look on his face indicated he didn’t particularly care if anyone noticed.

  “Allow me,” he said, reaching out his hand to help her to her feet. His deep, resonating voice wrapped around her as he issued his invitation and a shiver raced down her spine.

  He stood with his feet braced wide, his back rigid and straight, and it was all she could do to tear her gaze from his face to his large, solid hand extended toward her.

  She glanced back to his face but his features remained an unreadable mask. Josie focused on the subtle nuances concealed behind the slight curve of his mouth and the gleam in his eyes in an effort to read his expression. When she couldn’t, she glanced back at his extended hand and considered ignoring his offer. Then realized refusing would be cowardice.

  “Thank you.” She placed her hand in his and let him help her to her feet.

  The feel of his flesh against hers jolted her with more awareness than she thought possible and as soon as she could, she pulled her hand free. She wasn’t sure if he noticed; couldn’t tell from his expression.

  “I see you’ve brought the children outside,” he said, his words innocuous enough while his intense gaze moved to study each and every child as she knew he would.

  “Yes. We take the children out whenever the weather permits.”

  “Are these just the younger children, then?”

  He didn’t wait for her to answer, but stepped closer to the group of youngsters.

  If circumstances had been different, Josie would have laughed at the expressions on the children’s faces. Every one of them stared with open mouths and wide eyes at the giant standing before them. She had to admit he was an impressive figure even to an adult. She couldn’t begin to imagine how intimidating he must seem to a child.

  “All the children here are between the ages of three and five.”

  His eyebrows shot upward. “This was planned?”

  “I assumed you would not give up until your curiosity had been satisfied.”

  He cast her an amused glance. “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. This just seemed the most expeditious method of satisfying your curiosity. It’s preferable to having you return to Sacred Heart and frighten the children.”

  The Marquess of Rainforth crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the tree she’d been sitting beneath. “You don’t have a very favorable opinion of me, do you. May I ask why?”

  “Your reputation has preceded you, my lord.”

  “My reputation, Miss Foley? Or my fath—”

  “Your reputation,” she repeated. “Your riotous lifestyle and extravagant spending have always been of interest to everyone at St. Stephen’s. So were the scandals in which you were involved.”

  “And you believed everything you heard?”

  “Are you saying the rumors that made their way to St. Stephen’s were unfounded? Nothing more than vicious gossip?”

  She saw his hesitation as if he realized a lie would have served his purpose better. She felt a sense of admiration when he admitted what everyone knew.

  “No. There was probably more truth to them than I would like to admit.”

  “Yet now you want me to hand over a child into your care and keeping.”

  She saw his eyes flash but she reinforced her stand with another accusation. “The fact that you are searching for a child you’ve never seen or made an effort to find until now is hardly to your advantage.”

  “Yet, here I am.”

  Josie swung her arm out to encompass the small group of children still sitting on the grass. “And I can see you won’t give up until you’ve met the children. So, I have assembled them for you.”

  Josie didn’t give the marquess time to respond, but turned to the children and called out, “Richie, please come here.”

  A little boy at the back of the circle slowly rose to his feet and came forward.

  “Richie, I’d like you to meet the Marquess of Rainforth. Lord Rainforth, Richard Carruthers.”

  Josie took immense satisfaction from the surprised expression on Rainforth’s face. She knew this wasn’t what he expected but he recovered quickly.

  “How do you do, Richard,” he said, holding out his hand in greeting.

  With a little prodding, Richie extended his small, trembling hand. “How do you do, sir.”

  “Richie is four years old, aren’t you, Richie?”

  “Yes, Miss Josie. But I’ll be five next month.”

  “Oh, yes. How could I have forgotten? Richie is getting very old on us.”

  Josie gave the youngster’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and pulled him close to her while she continued. “Richie’s parents were killed in a fire that destroyed their home when Richie was only a babe. Richie survived and came to live with us because we wanted him so very much. Isn’t that right, Richie?”

  “Yes, Miss Josie,” Richie answered with a smile so wide it brought tears to her eyes. “And Miss Josie takes me to the cemmary—”

  “Cemetery,” Josie corrected.

  “Yes. The cemtatary every Sunday so I can talk to my mama.”

  “That’s very nice of her,” the marquess said, his face an unreadable mask.

  “Glenda,” Josie said, calling for the next child.

  “Lord Rainforth. Miss Glenda Johnson.”

  Glenda curtsied a wobbly bob that the marquess answered with a bow as regal as any Josie had ever seen. But Glenda wasn’t brave enough to face the intimidating stranger and quickly buried her face in Josie’s skirts. “Glenda’s mama came back to Clythebrook from London. She worked in a beautiful mansion there, didn’t she, Glenda?”

  “Yes, Miss Josie. All the walls in the house where my mama lived were painted gold.”

  Josie gave the little girl a loving hug. “Glenda’s mother was an upstairs maid for the Duke of Shakely. Perhaps you are acquainted with him?”

  Josie could tell from the harsh rush of air Rainforth sucked into his lungs he was familiar with Shakely’s reputation. From the rumors that had made their way this far in the country, she doubted if there were many with close ties to London who weren’t.

  She kept her level gaze locked with his so he could not misunderstand the meaning to her next words. “Glenda’s mama came back to Clythebrook to live with her parents when… her services were no longer required.”

  “She went to heaven, though, when I was born,” Glenda added quietly. “And I don’t have a father like Richie. But I have a granny and granda who come to see me sometimes.”

  “Glenda’s grandparents aren’t well enough to care for Glenda yet. Maybe someday they will be.”

  Josie didn’t want to admit that the day would probably never come when Glenda’s grandparents would take her. It had been almost five years and neither one of them had recovered from the guilt that plagued them. They were the ones who’d sent their daughter to London to give her a better opportunity to find some nice young man to marry and settle down with. Instead, she’d come back carrying Shakely’s bastard child and had died birthing it.

  “And this is Jeremy Black,” Josie said, placing her hand atop the curly blond head of the nearest youngster still sitting on the grass. “He’s just three and very special to us. Jeremy, say hello to Lord Rainforth.”

  Jeremy stood and Josie saw him swallow hard. “’lo, Lord Rainforth,” the little boy said softly, then held out his hand like he’d seen Richie do.

  “How do you do, Jeremy,” Rainforth said, taking Jeremy’s tiny hand in his massive one.

  “You’re very big,” Jeremy said, craning his neck and tilting his head way back to look into the marquess’ face.

  “Y
es, I am. Perhaps one day you will be, too.”

  Jeremy couldn’t come up with an answer so he just smiled a baby-faced grin.

  “Jeremy’s mother left him with us when he was just a babe. She needed to go away to London to earn a living, and because she knew we wanted him, she left him in our care.”

  “But she sends me letters on my birthday and at Christmas,” Jeremy said enthusiastically. “Miss Josie reads them to me.”

  “She never forgets, does she?” Josie said, giving the child a gentle pat before letting him sit down.

  Josie glanced up and noticed the bleak expression on Rainforth’s face turn even darker. He was astute enough to at least guess at the truth to the letters. She lowered her gaze and walked over to the next child.

  Before she could ask him to stand so she could introduce him to Rainforth, a little boy with a riot of curly red hair and a face filled with freckles jumped to his feet and held out his hand.

  “Hello. My name is Frankie Hawkins and I’m five.”

  “How do you do, Frankie,” Rainforth greeted, carefully observing the boy as if looking for any clue as to his identity.

  “Frankie’s mother also comes to us from London. She had a home in London for some time before her services were no longer required. She moved back right before Frank was born and lived close by until a fever took her when Frank was three.”

  “I went to live with my uncle Clyde first but he didn’t want me. He used to hit me and he even hit Miss Josie once. The day she came to get me. Uncle Clyde was terribly mad at her.”

  “That’s enough, Frankie.”

  “But I don’t ever have to go back there, do I, Miss Josie?”

  “No, Frankie. You never have to go back.”

  Josie made the mistake of looking at the Marquess of Rainforth’s face.

  “Is this man a tenant on your estate or mine?” he growled softly.

  “No. He’s from a neighboring estate quite a ways from here.”

  “That’s fortunate for him.”

  Josie thought it best if she moved along. The fury she saw in his gaze showed a side of him she’d never glimpsed before. Josie stepped to the next child and helped her up. “And this is Amanda, my lord.”