by Anne Gracie
No other institution had housed his sisters, after all.
Lady Elinore had no idea of his relationship with the place. Morton Black’s investigations had shown that Lady Elinore’s mother had died just before Cassie and Dorie had been brought to the institution. Girls brought in were routinely renamed, though their original names were recorded in a book. Morton Black had been willing to destroy that page, but as it turned out, there was no need. There could be no traceable connection between Carrie and Doreen Morgan and Cassandra and Eudora Reyne.
Sebastian reined in his horses, and the curricle drew up outside a tall, narrow building of grim aspect.
He leaped down and held out a hand to assist Lady Elinore down. She barely touched him. Even her gloves were gray. “Forgive my ignorance, but are you in half mourning, Lady Elinore?”
She shook her head. “No. Not at all. It is not quite a year since my mother died, it is true, but mourning dictated by convention is not a belief I subscribe to. If it is the color of my clothing you are referring to, the choice is deliberate. I have worn gray all my life, as did my late mother. Colors inflame the masculine passions.”
Sebastian raised a brow. “Do they?”
“Yes. My late mother, Lady Ennismore, made a close study of such things. If all females understood it and avoided colorful clothing, our lives would be much more peaceful and rational.”
“Indeed,” Sebastian murmured noncommittally. If everyone wore gray, it would make life a great deal drearier, in his opinion. Nor would it be profitable for the textile trade.
His doubt must have been inadequately disguised, for as they mounted the steps to the front entrance of the building, Lady Elinore explained earnestly, “It is quite true. My mother conducted a number of scientific investigations and published them in a book; you may have heard of it: The Principles of Rationality for Enlightened Ladies.”
Sebastian confessed that he hadn’t heard of it.
“I shall present you with a copy, then, for I am hoping to get this entire institution run according to my mother’s Principles. I have already made some innovations, but not all of the other ladies agree. But I digress, for we were discussing the hue of my attire. Mother found that gray was the color that most inspired neutrality in masculine breasts.”
Sebastian could not argue with that. There was not a lot one could say about gray, he had to admit. And observing her in her gray ensemble, he also admitted to a strong feeling of neutrality.
She tugged the bellpull. A bell clanged in the far recesses of the house, and in an instant the door was opened by a large woman dressed in a black serge dress.
She conducted them in silence to a large room in which six ladies sat waiting for him. They ranged in age from a beefy matron of about fifty to a desiccated old stick who had to be well past eighty. Three were dressed in unrelieved, unadorned gray, one was dressed in black, and the remaining two were dressed in such brilliant colors, Sebastian almost blinked at the contrast.
As he entered, six pairs of eyes narrowed with varying degrees of approval and suspicion. Sebastian was accustomed to the scrutiny of strangers. He did not care, as long as he got what he wanted.
“Ladies,” he said, after the introductions had been made. “You have known of my interest for some time, so I’ll not beat about the bush. I would like to purchase this institution. You have my assurance in writing that I will continue its good work, and you have had Lady Elinore testify to my character. Furthermore, I am willing to allow three of you to remain on in an advisory capacity, so all that is left is for me to make the offer.” He named a sum, and from the sounds of the stifled gasps, it was more than acceptable. He stood up. “Perhaps someone will show me around, while you are discussing my offer. As you know, I have never before ventured past the entrance.” And he was curious to see the place that had taken in his sisters.
“I shall escort you,” Lady Elinore said. “Everyone here knows my views about the sale.”
She conducted Sebastian around the building, explaining the purpose of the establishment and answering all his questions. He was interested in the place, but not so much the theories behind it. He knew nothing about the upbringing of girls. As long as the inmates were clean and warm and well fed and cared for, he didn’t mind how the place was run. He left that to others, who had knowledge and beliefs about how it should be done.
And Lady Elinore, he discovered, had very passionate beliefs. “The thing is, Mr. Reyne, these girls—through no fault of their own—have been exposed to the vilest aspects of human nature. We must redress that imbalance, so that they can recover from their ordeals and grow up to live useful, respectable lives.”
She talked of how a quiet life, with routine, study, and work, would settle down the more extreme aspects of the girls’ behavior. She explained how they would grow in dignity and independence as a result. It sounded good to Sebastian. It seemed to him that she would know exactly how to manage and care for his sisters. He had made the right decision, as personally painful as it was.
He couldn’t see Miss Hope Merridew settling for quiet routine, study, and work. To be honest, he couldn’t quite see Cassie settling to it, either, but what he saw convinced him it must be possible.
She conducted him to a room where girls sat in rows, sewing, while a lady read aloud to them from a book. “Improving tales,” explained Lady Elinore in a whisper. “Each one is about a girl who has strayed from the correct path, and each contains a moral lesson. My mother wrote it. We alternate between my mother’s writings and the Bible. Replacing their former lives of depravity with a sound moral foundation.”
Sebastian nodded. What did he know about the education of young girls?
“The girls learn all the domestic skills, from cooking to cleaning and dressmaking, and then are apprenticed to a trade, according to their talents and abilities. They work throughout the day, of course. We do not allow time for idle hands, for idleness leads to depravity, as everybody knows. We allow breaks for meals and also for exercise—my mother was a great believer in exercise for females. She ascribes a host of female ills to the lack of it.”
It was a sound principle, he thought. Exercise breaks were more than most little factory workers got, he knew. Some of the boys and girls he’d known as a child had become crippled from fourteen hours a day on the factory floor, with no time allowed to move about or stretch their aching muscles. The moment he’d taken over as manager of the mill, he’d instituted short exercise and meal breaks, and it had paid off. No more children were crippled in his mills.
He had a sudden vision of the children running about so happily in the park and asked, “So, you take them out for walks?”
She shook her head emphatically. “No, for there are too many temptations outside, and many of these girls will backslide at the smallest opportunity. We do not allow them out until we are certain they are morally strong and prepared to resist temptation. The world is full of unscrupulous people who will prey on unprotected and gullible young females.”
Sebastian thought of his sisters and nodded in heartfelt agreement. Lady Elinore’s passion to care for these girls touched him. He was certain that with a little encouragement, she would redirect that compassion toward his sisters. Lord knows they needed someone, and they would have nothing to do with him. And Lady Elinore was that impossible combination, a high-bred lady of the aristocracy who understood how harsh and terrible the world could be.
She was no fragile silken elf, created purely for joy.
Lady Elinore nodded briskly. “I’m glad you approve. Now, shall we return to see if the board has made a decision about your offer?”
Sebastian agreed. The board had decided the moment he’d named a sum, he thought cynically. But the time he’d spent being shown around the institution had not been wasted. Apart from satisfying his curiosity, he fancied he was slowly winning Lady Elinore over. She had been quite willing to dance with him or go for a drive in the park whenever asked, but she’d remained coolly res
erved and formal, until now. Explaining the program, she’d become almost friendly.
He still had no idea what she thought of him, but one thing was clear: she did not have a very high opinion of men.
Sebastian was not a man who gave up when he encountered an obstacle. He felt sure that if he tried hard enough, he would eventually win Lady Elinore’s respect and esteem. That was as much as he wanted. He didn’t want a wife who would smother him with emotional demands. He was marrying for practical reasons.
He didn’t mind her eccentricity, as long as she kept it within bounds and remained an accepted part of the ton. He even rather liked it, liked the way she stuck to her beliefs. And if the care of poor orphan girls was her passion in life, it could also be the chink in her defenses.
She would not be able to resist his offer of marriage, when it came, knowing that as his wife, she would have total sway over the running of the orphan asylum and could institute Rational Principles to her heart’s content.
He might even name it after her. It would make a nice unconventional wedding present: The Lady Elinore Reyne Institution for Indigent Girls.
Giles gave a crack of laughter. “The Lady Elinore Reyne Institution for Indigent Girls? You wild, romantic dog, you! What a wedding gift! After this, all the ladies of the ton will be clamoring for their own personal orphanage!”
Sebastian gave him an austere look. “It is the sort of gift Lady Elinore would appreciate.”
Giles gave a rueful laugh. “You are no doubt correct. She is certainly an unusual creature.”
Sebastian frowned. “I need to speed things up, get this courtship over and done with. Do you think I should send her flowers or something? As a thank-you for her company today? A sort of courtship gesture.”
Giles shook his head. “No, she says flowers are not Rational.”
Sebastian raised his brows. “How do you kn—”
“Has she met the girls yet?” Giles interrupted.
“No, not yet.”
“Then what are you waiting for? They’re the reason for all this.”
Sebastian hesitated. “I’m not so sure the girls are ready for social interaction.”
“From what you’ve told me, they’re meeting the Merridews every second moment. If that’s not social interaction, I don’t know what is.”
“You’re right. I shall arrange something immediately.” He thought for a moment. “I shall send Lady Elinore a note and invite her on an outing.”
“To where?”
Sebastian shrugged. “You know London better than I. You suggest a place.”
Giles shook his head, laughing. “Oh, no. You won’t make me responsible. Why not tell Lady Elinore you’d like to take her and your sisters somewhere and ask her for a suggestion. She’s a Londoner and presumably knows the sort of thing young girls would find amusing.”
“Excellent idea, Giles. I shall send her a note at once.”
“It was Sir Hans Sloane who we have to thank for this splendid opportunity,” Lady Elinore explained. “He was a physician, naturalist, and collector, particularly of botanical specimens, and when he died, some sixty-five years ago, he bequeathed some seventy-one thousand objects, a library, and herbarium, to King George II—he was the grandfather of our regent—for the nation.”
She looked at Cassie and Dorie expectantly. They said nothing. Cassie darted a long-suffering look at Sebastian.
“Very interesting,” Sebastian supplied.
“Yes, it’s fascinating,” Lady Elinore enthused. “They appointed trustees to see that his will was carried out, and after a great deal of debate, an Act of Parliament established the British Museum.” She gestured to the edifice. “The foremost monument to rational pursuits in the world.”
“Hmm,” Sebastian nodded. “Most impressive.”
“To my mind the botanical exhibits are the most interesting, so we shall start with them,” said Lady Elinore. “You study botany, I presume, girls?”
“No,” Cassie said baldly.
Lady Elinore sniffed. “I suppose you do watercolors and embroidery and Italian and music. I have nothing against the last two—it is Rational to learn another language, and while my late mother did not approve of music, I must say I have a weakness for it, myself.”
“No,” Cassie said again.
Lady Elinore was nonplussed. “Oh. Well, let us begin our botanical studies here. Classification is the most exciting science. The founder of modern botanical study was, oddly enough, a Swede, Dr. Carolus Linnaeus, a medical physician who—”
“Why is it odd?” Cassie interrupted.
“Because, Cassandra, he was not English, and it is not polite for young ladies to interrupt their seniors,” Lady Elinore explained kindly. “Dr. Linnaeus died forty years ago, after developing a system for examining and classifying the natural world. It was called the Systema Naturae, which is Latin. After his death, his papers came to England, and a number of his students also came to England. One traveled, for example, on one of the voyages of Captain James Cook—you will have heard of him, I hope.”
“No,” said Cassie. “Is he dead, too?”
“Yes,” Lady Elinore responded, oblivious of irony. “He died not long after Dr. Linnaeus, I believe, nearly forty years ago.”
“Is everyone in the British Museum dead?” Cassie asked.
Lady Elinore looked perplexed, but only for a moment. “Well, yes, of course. Except for the people who work here and the visitors, of course. Now, let us view the botanical exhibition. The most marvelous plants have been collected.”
“Dead plants?”
“Yes, Cassandra, of course. Plants cannot be properly preserved if they are living, can they? And these plants come from all over the world.”
“So they will be all brown, not green.”
“Yes.”
“My friend Grace said there are Egyptian mummies here and big marble statues that Lord Elgin brought from Greece. She said they were broken, but very interesting.”
Lady Elinore compressed her lips, declared, “Such things are not proper for young girls to view,” and marched with a firm tread toward the botanical section.
Cassie turned to Sebastian and gave him a long, silent look.
He gave her an equally silent response through narrowed eyes, and after a moment she shrugged her shoulders and stomped after Lady Elinore, towing Dorie with her. As a demonstration of martyred dumb insolence it was masterly, but Sebastian could not find it in himself to be annoyed with her. His contentious little sister was doing quite well, given the dreary nature of the outing.
Why on earth had Lady Elinore chosen this place for an outing?
The answer came at the end of another hour of viewing pressed, brown vegetation. “You may be wondering how I know so much about the museum and all its exhibits.”
“No,” muttered Cassie under her breath.
Luckily Lady Elinore didn’t hear her. She continued, “My late mother used to bring me here once a month. It was the special thing we did together, as mother and daughter.” She smiled at the girls. “My mother, Lady Ennismore, was a famous educator and writer, you see. She was always extremely busy, giving lectures or having meetings or working. I never saw much of her when I was your age. But she always made time for this.” She glanced around the big, echoing building with a fond expression. “I used to look forward to the hour we spent here, every month, just Mother and me. This place is almost like home to me.”
Cassie stared at her. “That’s the only time you saw your mother alone?”
Lady Elinore gave a little shake of her head and said in gentle reproof, “When one’s mother is famous and has A Calling, one must make sacrifices. I am proud to be Lady Ennismore’s daughter. I was bred to carry on her work.”
There was a short, uncomfortable silence.
“I can see how you could become fond of this place then,” Sebastian said at last. “Thank you for bringing us here.”
“Oh, but we haven’t nearly finished.”
Cassie directed a silent glower in his direction. She was running out of her small store of acceptable behavior, he realized. Her momentary sympathy for Lady Elinore wouldn’t last. He needed to get her home before she did something outrageous.
“I think the girls have taken in as much botany as they can for one day. I think it is time to return home for some refreshments.”
“Very well,” Lady Elinore agreed. “Though there is a great deal more to see. But a cup of tea would be most welcome.”
Sebastian ushered them quickly to the carriage. As Cassie climbed in to take her seat, he said quietly, “You have been very good today, Cassie. If it continues, I shall try to think of a treat for you and Dorie.”
Unfortunately, Lady Elinore overheard. “A treat? I know the very thing. I shall give you both a copy of my mother’s Improving Tales for Young Girls.”
Sebastian could tell by the rolling eyes that Cassie had heard quite enough of Lady Ennismore’s ideas for education. He held his breath and stared at Cassie, conveying a silent message that if she thanked Lady Elinore graciously, he would indeed think of a very special treat. And if not . . .
Cassie gave him a cool look and said with paralyzing politeness, “Thank you, Lady Elinore. I’m sure the tales will be as fascinating as your botanical lectures.”
To Sebastian’s gratitude, Lady Elinore missed the irony. His gratitude did not last long, though, for Lady Elinore was moved by the compliment to wax lyrical about the collection of botanical specimens once more.
Cassie stood it for five minutes, then announced in a clear voice, “Lady Elinore, did you know I wear a knife strapped to my thigh?” She began to lift her skirt to show it.
“That’s enough, Cassie,” Sebastian thundered. He itched to throttle her. It was the kind of statement that had caused several of their erstwhile governesses to faint, particularly when she proceeded to pull up her dress, shamelessly baring a naked thigh in the process, and demonstrated how sharp the knife was.
Cassie eyed him cautiously and left her skirt where it was, thankfully, still decent.
