by Amelia Grey
That was almost laughable. She could be ready to leave before the afternoon was over. “Yes, plenty of time for me,” she said, excited at the thought of leaving Mammoth House for a few days and seeing the duke.
Loretta talked a minute or two longer with Paxton before walking back toward the music room. She would rather go to her room and think about what the duke had written about planning his strategy but she couldn’t leave Farley sleeping in the chair. Instead, she was surprised to see Farley standing at the window with his hands and forehead flattened against the pane, looking out and seeming in deep thought. He looked taller than she’d remembered from the night he’d arrived, but no less thin or lonely.
“I’m glad to see you are feeling strong enough to stand up,” she said in a cheerful voice as she entered the room and stopped beside him.
He turned to her and quietly asked, “Where is this place?”
“You mean this house?”
He nodded.
So it was as she’d thought, he wasn’t familiar with the area. It was no wonder he was asking. There was nothing but barren tree lines or empty flat lands as far as the eye could see in any direction. “You’re in Mammoth House, which is about a half day’s ride from Grimsfield. Do you know where that is?”
He shook his head.
“Do you remember how you got here?”
“Walked,” he said, turning his attention back out the window.
“From where?”
He shrugged. “The road mostly.”
She couldn’t say he wasn’t answering her questions, though they weren’t telling her much. “How did you get onto the road?”
“A man left me standing on it.”
That didn’t sound good. “Can you tell me more about how that came about or tell me about the man?”
“I was minding my ownself, wasn’t stealing anything or causing trouble to anyone. Just looking at the meat pies cooling in the window of a bread shop. A man grabbed me from behind, put ’is hand over me mouth, and tossed me inside a wagon as if I were a sack of coal. And ’e locked the door so we couldn’t get out.”
“That’s terrifying,” Loretta said and shivered. She didn’t want to alarm Farley and show how horrified she was about what had happened to him. “What man? Do you know who he was?”
Farley turned toward her again. His big brown eyes had narrowed with anger. “No. But ’e was big and strong. Lifted me right off me feet, he did.”
“Did anyone try to help you?”
“Won’t nobody ’elp a kid like me. I ’elped my ownself. I bit ’is ’and ’ard as I could. Tried to box his ears. I wasn’t going with ’im without a fight.”
Loretta understood his fury. She was angry, too. Anyone would be under the circumstances. “That’s dreadful. But you didn’t get away?”
“’E was too strong.”
“You said we couldn’t get out. Was someone with you? Your parents? Your mama?” she asked cautiously, hoping to trigger that softness in him that she’d only seen when he was dreaming of his mother.
Farley shook his head and his expression relaxed a little. His tone evened out as he said, “Got no parents. Got no one but me. Other boys were in the wagon—just like me.” He struck a thin, limber thumb to his chest. “The big oaf that took me stole them all right off the street and locked us inside. People watched, but no one cared.”
Still trying to comprehend his story of being abducted, she asked, “You didn’t know the man or the other boys?”
Farley coughed into his handkerchief a few times before saying, “Didn’t know him from any other devil or cur that walks the streets.”
Loretta blinked at his language but held the reprimand that wanted to spring forth. Since this was the first time Farley had opened up and was talking about himself, she wanted to be careful and not say anything that would cause him to go quiet.
She remained very still with her hands folded in front of her and kept her voice even as she asked, “Where was the shop you were standing in front of when the man grabbed you?”
“Near St. James Park.”
“So you were in London when you were taken?”
He nodded again. His eyes had softened and watered when he looked up at her and said, “’Ow am I going to get back?”
At present, she didn’t know. She hadn’t given much thought to him leaving, only staying at Mammoth House.
She inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know the answer to that at the moment. And for now it’s not important. You aren’t well enough to go anywhere yet. There’s still time to consider that. Did the man say where he was taking you?”
Farley’s face relaxed. He shrugged and turned back to the window. “’E didn’t tell me anything. One of the boys said ’e was taking us to a place where we would work, get paid, and ’ave something to eat every day. But another one said we’d never get paid a halfpence and we’d be beaten if we didn’t work.”
Loretta’s heart constricted and another shiver shook her. She’d heard a little about workhouses where the very poor were given a place to live and food in exchange for labor, but had never seen one and certainly had never met anyone who was destined for such a place.
“So what happened?” she asked. “Did you escape from the workhouse?”
“No,” he said, to her surprise.
“How did you get away?”
“’E threw me out on the road and left me, ’e did.”
She covered her mouth with her hand to silence her gasp as she heard his words. Old feelings of abandonment flooded her. She’d felt them years ago when her mother had died even after promising Loretta she wouldn’t leave her. And more recently when her uncle had banished her to the loneliness of Mammoth House.
“What a vile soul that man must have to throw a young boy along the side of the road,” she said with a shaky voice. “And out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Said it wasn’t ’is fault. ’E had to do it. I was sick with fever and I’d give it to the other boys. Said we’d all die if I stayed in the wagon with them. Then ’e wouldn’t get any money for us.”
Anger grew inside Loretta. She wanted to find the man and have him punished.
“So he just left you beside the road in the freezing rain! That was a wicked thing for him to do to you.”
“I didn’t care. ’E was a cur. I didn’t want to go wherever ’e was taking me anyway.”
She blinked at his swearing again but only asked, “How did you find Mammoth House? There’s no distinct road leading here anymore.”
“I followed the road for a while, until I saw the man walking ’is ’orse and followed ’im. I figured ’e knew where ’e was going.”
“So you followed the Duke of Hawksthorn here?”
When she said the duke’s name, Farley looked over his shoulder at her with distrust in his eyes. “’E don’t like me.”
“Who?” she asked cautiously. “The duke? I know it may have seemed that way when you first arrived. I didn’t think he liked me the first time we met, either. He can be rather strong and commanding. But he’s a fair person.”
“’Is kind got no use for someone like me,” Farley said as a determined expression settled onto his face. “I seen it in ’is eyes, I did.”
“That may be true for some gentlemen but not the duke,” she defended.
“’E’s like all the gents, ’e is. They just soon give ye the backs of their hand as a penny. They brush you away like dust off their fancy cuffs.”
She gasped. “The duke never struck you, did he?”
“’E grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go.”
“That’s because he knew you were in peril. He saved your life that night. If the duke hadn’t gone out into the storm and brought you back, you probably would have—well, there is no telling what may have happened to you. As it is, you were saved from the storm and the fever and you’re getting stronger each day. And you don’t have to go to a workhouse, either. But if you have no parents,
where do you live?”
He looked back out the window and defiantly said, “Got my ownself a place under the steps of an old building near St. James Park. Dug it out my ownself. Even found enough wood for a floor and a blanket, too.”
“That’s good,” she said softly, her heart feeling heavy and thinking that she couldn’t imagine anything more horrible than not having a home to live in, nor a bed to sleep in. And not even a fire to warm her during the freezing winter nights. Just a cold wooden floor and a blanket.
“Where do you get food?”
He looked at her with his big brown eyes and calmly said, “Wherever I can find it. Got no one to bring it to me like you do.”
Loretta felt the sting of what he said, though she knew he didn’t mean it as a rebuke—only an observation. Knowing he had so little, she wondered if she’d ever truly feel hungry again. She was overly blessed compared with Farley and so many children who’d been abandoned by the good side of life.
“Ye don’t need to look sad for me. I don’t mind.” Farley started coughing. He turned away from her and bent double as he struggled to recover his breath.
Loretta wished again she could keep the bouts from returning. She would ask Mr. Huddleston to talk to the apothecary again the next time he went to Grimsfield and see if there was something else they could try that might help Farley.
They’d probably talked enough for one day anyway. When the coughing had subsided she said, “I think we should get you back to your room, and in order to do that you have to get back into the chair. I don’t want you up too long.”
“I can walk,” he muttered.
“Yes, you can, but you’re not going to this time,” she said, pointing to the chair. “We’ll try that tomorrow.”
Farley hesitated, as if he might challenge her, but instead he crawled back into the big chair and allowed her to tuck the blanket around his legs again.
When she rose and started around to the back of the chair she heard him say, “Thank you.”
Loretta lifted her chin and smiled.
The two of them were silent as they started the trek back to his room. This time her step was much lighter. She had learned so much more about Farley. The next time they talked she was confident she would learn even more.
Loretta knew there were plenty of uncared for and mistreated children like Farley. She couldn’t help them all, but she would find a way to help this one. If it were in her power to do so, he wouldn’t go to a workhouse or back to the streets of London.
He would find a home here at Mammoth House.
Chapter 15
A gentleman would never be bored and fall asleep in a lady’s presence.
A PROPER GENTLEMAN’S GUIDE TO WOOING THE PERFECT LADY
SIR VINCENT TYBALT VALENTINE
It was late in the day, and it had been a long and bumpy one. Loretta had not cared. She’d taken every jostle, rumble, snatch, and rock of the coach with immense pleasure. Even the occasional slurring shouts the driver directed at the horses couldn’t put a damper on her day.
The sun had just broken on the horizon with shades of pink, blue, and gray when she’d boarded the coach that morning. The view from the back window of the carriage had been blocked with all the luggage that had been piled high, but she’d still waved good-bye to the big stone house in the beautiful light of dawn. She had no idea when or if she’d ever be allowed to leave again, and she was determined to enjoy every moment of her journey, her freedom, and her short stay at Hawksthorn.
The last time their small caravan of two coaches made a stop, the driver had informed Loretta the next one would be when they arrived at the front door of the Hawksthorn Estate. That was welcome news. Her joyful attitude hadn’t waned, but she was tired of the constant sitting and was eager to see the duke, his home, and of course his sister—the main reason she was allowed to accompany Paxton.
It had been a cloudy and windy day. Light rain had fallen from time to time, but not enough to drench the roads and make wheels bog into the soggy earth. The temperature had stayed well above freezing, making the journey bearable for everyone, including the drivers and their helpers.
Loretta and Paxton rode in the lead carriage, which when they started was pulled by six magnificent-looking bays. The horses had already been changed several times since then, because their pace had been brisk. Their coach wasn’t as elaborate as the one Mrs. Huddleston had described to her with such relish when the duke had last visited Mammoth House, but it was far fancier than Loretta was used to. Tastefully handsome on the outside and divinely plush on the inside.
The luxurious cushions were a deep shade of blue velvet and stuffed with the softest of feathers. The extra filling beneath her bottom made all the jostling from side to side, and the shallow holes, deep ruts, and large pebbles the wheels ran over, easier to bear. Fine wood framing around the windows and side panels had been polished to a high gleam. A basket filled with cheese, bread, and dried fruits rested on the seat beside Loretta, along with a generous supply of chocolate, wine for Paxton, and enough water to keep them all well satisfied.
Bitsy, Paxton’s valet, Farley, and Mrs. Huddleston rode in the carriage following them. It was only a little less ornate, and it pleased Loretta’s housekeeper greatly that she had the opportunity to ride in such elegant style.
Farley hadn’t been invited to Hawksthorn, but at the last moment, and against her brother’s wishes, Loretta decided she couldn’t leave him at Mammoth House. That decision meant she had to bring Mrs. Huddleston along to take care of him. With all the changing of clothing Loretta would have to do at the duke’s house, Bitsy wouldn’t have time to take care of the lad.
Besides, he was feeling better, staying out of bed for most of the day, and eating well. They’d even spent time walking outside together on three afternoons. Much to her delight, he had been patient and attentive when they’d strolled through the back garden and she’d explained more to him about the constellations in the night sky. He’d laughed at her suggestion of him learning to read, but she reminded him that he would be able to read the street and shop window signs when he returned to London and that intrigued him. Later, Bitsy had told her she saw him looking through the pages in one of the books Loretta had left on the night chest by his bed. That gave her hope he would change his mind. She would mention reading again when he was feeling stronger.
Loretta’s main concern about Farley’s health was his lingering cough. It wasn’t improving. The debilitating spells were frequent and long, and seemed to drain his energy quickly. She worried about the thought there might be permanent damage to his lungs from the fever. Getting him away from Mammoth House for a few days so he could see and do some different things might do him more good than harm.
But all those noble reasons aside, Loretta had to be completely truthful, at least with herself. Not a one of them was the real reason she wanted Farley with her. Even though his body was still weak, she didn’t doubt his mental fortitude. If he decided he was ready to leave, she believed he’d simply start walking with no real knowledge of just how long a walk it would be back to London, or how to get there. In the end, that is what made her decide to bring him along. If she didn’t, she was afraid he’d be gone by the time she returned. Loretta was making such progress with him, she couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving.
Perhaps it was only natural, but she’d felt a greater concern for him since he’d opened up about his past. Being grabbed off the street and thrown into a locked wagon would be frightening for anyone. She knew something of how he felt. Mammoth House was gigantic compared with a wagon, but she had, in effect, been locked away, too. And the thought of being sold to a workhouse must have been even more horrific for him. It was no wonder there was no trust in Farley’s eyes or his attitude for anyone. Loretta hoped that in time her kindness to him would show him that not everyone was cruel.
She hadn’t mentioned the lad to her uncle yet and knew she must do that as soon as she returned. It would take so
me time to write the letter in a way that would lead the earl to decide it would be to his benefit to keep Farley at Mammoth House. She would talk to Mr. Huddleston first about things that Farley could do. Each day her hope grew stronger that if she offered Farley a permanent home and a place to work, he would agree to stay and not want to go back to living under the steps of an abandoned building.
Loretta looked over at Paxton, seated opposite her with his back facing the horses. His long, lean legs stretched out as far as he could get them and were crossed at the ankles. He’d fallen asleep, again, snuggled deep into his cloak, with his hat covering his face. She smiled. Paxton had chatted for most of the trip—jumping from one subject to the other and then on to another. She assumed to avoid talking about the real reason for their visit to Hawksthorn.
Along with the excitement of making this trip, leaving Mammoth House for the first time in almost three years, she also had a fair amount of apprehension that kept wanting to tamp down the good feelings. Paxton was a happy, carefree soul and could be easily led. She didn’t want him only to become enamored of the change in his lifestyle that marriage to a duke’s sister would bring him; she wanted him to fall deeply in love with Lady Adele or refuse the duke’s offer to make a match with her.
The duke.
Thinking about him had become a much-desired pastime. She liked that she could say whatever she wanted to him without fear of reprisal in any way. Courtship and marriage were not available to her so she was free to enjoy being with him, answer his banter, and relish the kisses he had all but promised. But she had to be wary, too. She must guard herself and not let their kisses go too far. She knew the dangers. Her goal had to be that she would not let the duke seduce her into his bed no matter how much she would like to fall victim to all the duke’s charms.
