She’d come across many a butler who thought themselves superior to almost anyone who wasn’t titled. As an upstairs servant, they were all but hired to look down their noses and intimidate guests they thought their masters would not be pleased to see.
But he’d made no sour face, nor suggested Tina strip in the kitchens where someone severely dirty would typically go, and he had not rushed them up the stairs when she and Tina had slowed.
This man before her was exceptional, and she couldn’t help but tell him so.
The man smiled and bowed. “Thank you, Mrs. Potter, and you’ll be pleased to know that I trained years ago under your family’s services. I was hired by Lord Jeanshire’s father.”
That brightened Christin. She’d come across others who’d studied under the lesson guides that the Potter family had crafted but knowing that one of her own lived in Aaron’s home did something to her. “Truly? What is your name?”
“Joe Simms, ma’am, at your service.” The bow he gave her would have put other gentlemen to shame. Indeed, he had trained with the Potter Agency.
“How long have you worked for Lord Jeanshire?” Christin asked. She saw an opportunity to learn more about the man who could befuddle her mind with something as simple as a glance and decided to take it.
“Over twenty years,” he said with a lift in his chin, his dark eyes shining with pride.
She glanced over and watched Tina walk the room, all while keeping her hands to herself. “And you knew Lord Jeanshire when he was a child?” she asked the butler in a way that she hoped didn’t make it obvious she was digging for answers.
Simms nodded. “I did.” He gave her nothing more than that.
Still, Christin pressed. “I imagine he’s been kind to you. Otherwise, a butler with your proficiency would have found employ elsewhere.” She lifted a brow and waited for a reply.
Simms smiled and gave her the diplomatic answer he’d been trained to give. “I am very grateful to have a position in such an esteemed home.”
It was clear she’d get no more than that from him and just as well, since the maids came in at that very moment with the tub and buckets of water, likely from a fire they kept running all day. She was also pleased to notice that scented soap had been brought as well.
Simms said his farewells and once the tub was set, the maids left as well, just as another brought a chemise, stockings, a brush, ribbons, a selection of dresses and slippers. She also set down a dress that seemed to be Christin’s size. She didn’t think the woman was Mrs. Selby, since she was dressed as an upstairs maid and seemed to be quite young.
“One of the Spinsters downstairs thought you might like to change. Isn’t it lovely?” The maid looked over and smiled at her, and Christin noticed that she was very pretty. She had dark brown hair and blue eyes with feminine features.
The Spinsters were here? Perhaps the woman had been speaking of an actual spinster.
But then Christin looked at the dress and thought otherwise. The blue muslin was far too beautiful and much too fashionable for it to have been owned by anyone but Sophia.
Sophia’s father had been a tailor who’d also crafted some of the best dresses and gowns to grace London. The dress on the bed looked like one of the Viscount of Dovehaven’s creations. She’d be honored to wear it.
“It is a lovely dress,” Christin said.
“I’m Betty,” the maid said as she continued to lay the clothing out. “If you need anything during your stay, please call for me. I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”
Christin smiled, thinking the staff very nice. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Betty said with a wide grin. “I enjoy helping the guests who frequent Lord Jeanshire’s home. He’s a very generous and kind lord.”
Christin paused and looked at Tina to find she was still gazing out the window. Then she turned to Betty. It appeared that while the butler had been tight lipped, Betty was not. “Does Lord Jeanshire host many parties?”
Betty laughed. “Oh, no, miss. Why, he rarely hosts any at all. His overnight guests usually arrive one at a time, each with a plight that he can fix.” She sighed heavily. “But one at a time makes caring for them easier, as you would imagine.” She gave another bright smile.
Christin was sure Betty had no clue what she was imagining… or perhaps she did. The maid kept saying ‘guests’ but it was clear that she meant females.
And what had she meant by Aaron fixing plights? Was Christin not the first woman he’d brought into his home? Was she just one of many? But what would he gain from helping women?
There was only one thing a man could hope to gain.
She preferred the less chatty Mr. Simms now.
Betty started toward the door. “Remember to call on me if you need anything at all. Your care is my main priority.” Then she was gone, and Christin decided she would not call on Chatty Betty if it could be arranged.
Putting her worries—and hurt—to the side, she forced her attention on where it should be.
Christin turned to Tina and found her gazing at the door. “Are you ready to bathe?” She recalled the girl’s reluctance at the thought of bathing earlier that day but staying in her current state was not an option.
Tina bit her lip, and Christin prepared herself for an argument. “Would you lock the door?”
“Of course.” Christin moved to lock the door and as her fingers wrapped around the handle, a shuddering thought made pain stick through her chest. Perhaps Tina had not been afraid to bathe at all. Perhaps it had simply been Jack’s presence that she’d feared.
The girl wanted the door locked before her bath. Had she not had the luxury before?
She struggled to swallow past the tears that threatened to spill.
Have I acted too late? Have I failed Tina?
Slowly, she turned toward Tina and looked at her.
The girl stood by the bath now. Steam lifted from the water.
Christin moved closer to her niece.
She’d never had this discussion with anyone before. Even living next to a brothel and being friends with its madam, she was still uncertain of how to broach this subject.
Madam Margaret had told her of men who’d tried to force themselves on her girls. Those men had been met with the fist and the swift boot of Margaret’s guard, never to be welcomed in the brothel again.
But Tina was an innocent. A boot, even a fist, to Jack would not set things right.
She touched Tina’s shoulder and dared to ask her next question. “Dear…” She pressed her lips together when they started to tremble. “Why didn’t you wish to take a bath earlier today when I asked?’
Tina’s gaze shifted away, and she said nothing.
Christin tried again, her heart nearly pounding to be released from her chest. “Was someone there when you took a bath?”
“I didn’t take baths,” she said more to the tub than Christin. “I always washed with my clothes on.”
“Did Jack try to—”
She shook her head. “Another man.”
Dear God. What other man?
Was she speaking of Mr. Bancroft? She could not picture the wealthy man stepping a toe into Joe’s apartment, but maybe it was one of the men who worked for him who had spied on her niece.
She was reminded of her conversation with Jack once more and decided that she would speak to Bancroft. While she supposed she could hide from the whatever soldier the magistrate sent to look for her and Tina when they fled, she was unsure if she could hide from a man like Bancroft, one who she knew had connections with Sir William Tift, a dangerous man who’d been knighted for services in the military and the Duke of Valdeston. What other connections did Bancroft have?
“Did anyone touch you?” Christin asked, because she had to know.
Tina shook her head. “He just… looked.” And that seemed to be that. She didn’t know what state of undress Tina had been, but whatever look she’d received from whomever she'd received it from had
made it so the girl had stopped bathing.
Once again, she was grateful to Aaron that he’d gotten Tina out when he had, and the earl had been right. Pride led to destruction, and in this case could have ruined Tina’s innocence. She didn’t know how she’d thank the earl, but she knew she’d have to find a way.
She grabbed both her niece’s hands. “Tina, if there is ever anything you need to speak about, know that I am always here for you, all right?”
Tina met Christin’s eyes and nodded solemnly.
“And no one will watch you ever again if you don’t wish it,” Christin said. “Do you mind if I assist you, dear?”
Tina shook her head.
Christin smiled. “Then let’s get you cleaned.”
* * *
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CHAPTER ELEVEN
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“You’ve been gone all day!” Mary complained. “I thought you were to join us for ice cream. Uncle Julius and Uncle Rollo came with Aunt Florence, Aunt Lorena, Aunt Sophia...” She went on to list the rest of the Spinsters he’d just seen that morning.
So the women had come to his house after they’d left tea? That did not surprise him in the least. They’d obviously wanted answers from him about his latest encounter with Christin.
He and the girls were still at the front door with him on his knees as he basked in their smiles.
Aaron smiled and tried to recall the last woman he’d enjoyed complaining about his missed appointment.
She didn’t exist.
Only Mary and Lily had a way of making him glad that he’d been missed. He often thought about how much they needed him, but once he looked into their doe brown-eyes. he remembered that it was he who needed them.
They filled that empty place in his heart that he’d not known had been empty until the first time they’d smiled at him.
He remembered the day exactly. He, along with Lorena, Rollo, Florence, and a few others had gone to the British Museum. At the time, he’d only been in the girls’ company for over a week and was lost, like a ship without wind in the middle of the Atlantic, not knowing which direction he should go. He’d been taking one step at a time and when the group decided to visit the museum, he’d thought it a great distraction for the girls.
But instead of being enthralled with some of the most profound exhibits the world had to offer, the girls had been become smitten with a cat and had chased it a far way across the room.
They’d caused quite the scene that day. Men and women from all walks of life had crowded the building and had all stopped to watch as the girls worked to lure a silly cat from behind a bench.
When the cat had finally been caught, its owner had rebuked the girls, and Aaron knew then that the room waited for him to take the cold woman’s cue and reprimand his charges.
But one look into their crestfallen faces and Aaron was reminded of their loss, the death of their mother a year ago and their father only weeks before.
And then he was reminded of his very own loss and the emptiness he’d felt after that. There’d been no one to rebuke Aaron. He’d been all but abandoned, left to deal with his grief on his own.
And though there had been trouble long before then, it wasn’t until his mother left that things truly fell apart.
Until the vicar had come. The only one who’d cared about his feelings.
He’d decided then that he would champion the girls, redressing the lady who’d thought to speak so ill toward his wards.
His reward had been their smiles and a day of endless chatter to follow.
The feeling of success had taken root in his heart even at the same time he’d felt pain at the memory of no one being there to champion him.
“She told us to call her grandmother,” Mary said, pulling him from his thoughts.
“What?” Aaron asked, thinking it silly that any of the woman had asked Mary to call her such a thing. None of them were old enough to be a grandmother. None of them even had children yet.
“Lady Jeanshire,” Lily said with a frown. One of her arms was wrapped around her doll, nearly strangling the thing. It was good the thing in question was not alive. Her dark curls hung over the doll’s head, a near match of hair color except for Lily’s had a glitter of gold that gave it life and brightened her entire appearance.
He was still unsure what the girl was talking about.
Lady Jeanshire.
Well, as far as he knew, there was only one of those… at the moment.
He laughed at the thought of his mother appearing in London, much less his ancestral residence in London.
No, Lily had to be wrong. Surely, she meant something else. Perhaps one of his mother’s relatives had come by.
Mary was grinning and lifted the hand that was not holding her own doll. “Look what she brought me. Grandmother says it came all the way from Egypt.” She wrinkled her nose. “Uncle Aaron, where is Egypt?” The bracelet was nearly blinding by the amount of diamonds it held. A ruby was encrusted at its golden clasp. It was too costly a gift for a child.
Aaron couldn’t reply, for his throat had decided to close at the same time his heart had begun to race.
It couldn’t be true.
He dropped the hands that he’d placed around the girls because he could feel his fingers trembling, his limbs twitching. What was the name of the emotion taking over him? He was used to anger. Could identify it easily, but this was not it. This feeling was very new to him.
And then it hit him.
Fear.
He stood slowly from the crouched position he’d been in since entering his home and found his legs were unsteady. Mary grabbed his hand while Lily grabbed the other. They both worked to lead him from the foyer. Had they not, he’d probably still be at the door.
Or he’d have run from his own home.
That thought was upsetting.
How dare his own mother run him from his own home? The home he’d been living in since his very birth and for the last twenty-nine years.
Nineteen of which she’d mostly missed.
The anger that came was more than welcome and nearly pleasant in contrast to fear.
He hadn’t been afraid in years. He would not allow her to make him feel it now.
They rounded a corner, and he could now hear the noise that was coming from the sitting room. There was quiet conversation and some laughter, though to his own ears, the sound was awkward.
They entered the sitting room silently, their steps muffled by the carpet.
Still, their presence was not missed.
Aaron’s eyes took in his mother, who was lounging on the settee right across from him.
Their eyes met, and Aaron felt his stomach fall as an ill feeling settled in.
All conversation came to a halt. Aaron heard the sound of his shallow breathing and hoped no one else did.
He felt Mary’s hand tighten in his, and Aaron took the next moment to look his mother over.
She’d aged but not much.
Her skin had an improper bronze coloring, and faint lines sat at the corner of her blue eyes, but besides those two facts, the rest of her was the same. She wore the most outrageous morning dress he’d ever seen. It was a deep red with probably as many skirts as rubies and diamonds that glittered from her ears, throat, wrist, and fingers.
She stood. “Aaron—”
“What are you doing?” he asked.
He saw movement and glanced around the room. Some of the women looked away sheepishly while Sophia boldly looked on with interest. Lorena and Genie, who’d known him for most of their lives, were the only two in the room who seemed to outright match his fury at her presence.
They knew, just as the brothers did, what this woman had done to him.
Or rather what she’d not done, which was raise him or comfort him during the darkest parts of his life.
Lorena looke
d ready to jump from her seat, her fingers raking in the chair arms. She had lioness tendencies when it came to the people she cared for, though he admitted she’d become feistier in the last month or so.
Genie was fanning herself, and if she fanned any harder, he was sure her wrist would pop off.
Rollo and Justin stood in the corner. It looked as if they'd been speaking privately before he’d entered. Their expressions were not welcoming though neither were they hostile. Still, an unwelcome look from either could set anyone on edge.
He returned his eyes to his mother and found her expression one of clear remorse and nervousness.
He wasn’t sure either were real, though he’d never known his mother to be a liar. She’d simply been absent from his life. If he could have it his way, she’d still be gone.
“I came for the party,” the countess said. She pressed her hands to her stomach in a protective gesture and then smiled kindly at Lily. “I was told that there was to be a celebration and thought I’d join.”
Lily pressed closer to Aaron and he knew she could feel the tension in the room. It was thick enough to turn into a filling stew.
It was startling to hear Florence speak. “Isn’t it lovely that she’s come all this way?” She lifted a brow as though expecting and asking Aaron to agree with her.
But for all Florence’s goodness, she didn’t know the intimacies of the situation. He’d have shared them with the former lady’s maid had she courted Aaron and not Rollo, but she’d not, and he’d after seeing how much Rollo had been in love with her, Aaron had decided not to pursue. Therefore, she was just as lost as the even calmer Taygete. Alice’s expression he found to be unreadable, and as a strategic card player, he was unsurprised by this. Sophia’s face had gone blank as well.
Did Aaron think it lovely that his mother had arrived for Lily’s party when she’d missed so many other special events in the past?
No, he didn’t.
Christin's Splendid Spinster's Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 8
