by Laura Landon
“These are the nine-through twelve-year-olds.” She pointed at the young man standing in the front of the room. “That is Henry. He’s been with us since he was nine.”
“You rescued him too?”
Hannah nodded. “Skinner’s clientele isn’t only interested in young female virgins.”
Rafe felt sick to his stomach. More and more he realized how important Hannah’s work was. More and more he understood her desperation to save as many children as she could before it was too late. More and more he realized how important it was to stop Skinner.
“He instructs the older children and, with the assistance of Rosie and several other adults, makes recommendations as to what position each child should train for when they leave his classroom.”
“Positions?”
“Yes, you might think of it as their callings.”
She turned, and Rafe followed her out of the room.
“If we would walk through the rest of the Cottage,” she said as they moved away from the classrooms, “we would find some of the older girls training to be nannies, some training to be maids or housekeepers, some as kitchen helpers and some as cooks. We train our boys for positions that might be useful for them later on. Some of them work with Higgins in the gardens. Some work with Jeremy in the stables. Some with Danvers in the house as footmen and house servants.”
“How many children do you have here now?”
“There are seventy-six, including the older ones who chose not to leave. There are twelve babes and infants, seventeen to the age of eight, twenty-four to the age of twelve, and twenty-three children twelve and older.”
“How do you manage?”
“Manage?”
“Yes. Feed them all? Clothe them? Find places for them when they’re ready to leave?”
Rafe saw a different side to Hannah, a different side than the Madam Genevieve she pretended to be. It was a side that inspired admiration.
“Actually,” she said, walking down the hallway, “finding posts for the children when they’re ready to leave isn’t that difficult. I have help in that area.”
Rafe placed his arm around Hannah’s waist when he noticed that she stumbled the slightest bit. It had been a long day, a tiring day. He wanted to get her someplace where she could rest for a while—where they could both rest.
He led her to a window seat in an alcove at the end of the hallway and made her sit. He sat beside her. “What help do you have?”
“The Duchess of Raeborn, the Marchioness of Wedgewood, and all their sisters. When any of them hear of a position that needs to be filled, they offer to assist in finding a suitable candidate. There’s never a shortage of openings for well-trained staff members who come with excellent papers. And all of our children leave here superbly trained and with the highest of recommendations.”
Hannah rubbed her hand over her forehead.
“Are you all right, Hannah?”
She nodded, but Rafe knew she was lying. He placed his arm around her shoulders and sat back against the corner of the window seat. He took her with him and nestled her close to him.
She curled against him and pressed her cheek against his chest.
“Everything will be all right, Hannah love,” he whispered.
They sat together for several long moments. Hannah was the first to break their silence. “What time is it?”
Rafe reached into his pocket and pulled out his grandfather’s watch. “It’s nearly five in the afternoon.”
“It’s been four hours,” she whispered. “I need to return. There are arrangements to make, and there’s the babe. I don’t know if…”
Rafe fingered the jewels on his grandfather’s pocket watch. He’d wondered about the babe too. He stood and held out his hand for her to take. “Come. We’ll face what’s ahead of us together.”
Hannah rose, and Rafe pulled her into his arms. He held her because he thought she needed to be held. He held her because he needed to hold her in his arms for a little while. He needed to feel her against his body, to feel the rise and fall of her shoulders as she took a breath. To keep her with him for a little while so nothing could hurt her.
He wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t. This wasn’t the time. Passion wasn’t what she needed. She needed his comfort, his strength. Nothing more.
After several moments, he placed her hand in the crook of his arm and led her back to the room where Jenny had given birth to her babe. Rafe opened the door, and Hannah walked in first.
The room was draped in shadows, but two lamps burned from the opposite sides of the room. Jenny was gone. The bedding had been changed and a new quilt put on the bed. There were no signs of what had happened in this room only a few short hours ago.
Rafe searched for any sign of the babe.
At first he didn’t see anything, and he thought his worst fears were a reality. Then he saw Mrs. Rosebury holding a bundle in her arms as she rocked back and forth in a chair near the fireplace.
“Is she still alive?” Hannah asked, rushing to Mrs. Rosebury’s side.
“Yes. Little Rachael may have had a hard start to life, but she’s a strong lass. I think she just might make it.”
Mrs. Rosebury stood and handed the bundle to Hannah. She took it with the ease and familiarity of someone who was used to holding babes.
Hannah pulled the light cover from the babe’s face and brushed her fingers down little Rachael’s cheek. “Has she taken food yet?”
“Not yet, but she will. I’ve sent for a wet nurse, and she should be here soon.”
Hannah sat with the babe in her arms and rocked her as Mrs. Rosebury had done.
“I’ll check on Jenny,” Mrs. Rosebury said. “She should be ready now.”
Hannah’s eyes filled with sadness. “We’ll hold a service tomorrow morning.”
“If you don’t mind,” Rafe said when they were alone, “I’d like to conduct the service.”
A sad smile lifted Hannah’s lips. “I’d like that. We don’t have a regular vicar here at Coventry, so we call on one nearby when we need him.”
“Do you have a church?”
“Yes. It’s a beautiful little church, but we don’t hold too many services in it because we don’t have a vicar here.”
“Then that will be my job while we’re here. I’ll conduct Sunday morning services as long as we’re here.”
A smile brightened Hannah’s face. “That’s your calling, Rafe. I can see by the excitement in your eyes.”
He laughed. “Yes, Hannah. As your calling is to save as many children as you can from Skinner’s clutches, my calling is to save as many souls as I can from the devil’s grasp.”
Hannah gifted him with another smile, and Rafe thought his heart would burst. He could get used to her smiles. He could survive on them instead of food for the rest of his life.
Chapter 19
Hannah sat in the front pew of the small church while Rafe greeted the parishioners outside. This was the third Sunday he’d preached at Coventry’s church, and today even some of the local residents came to listen. He had a gift. Even the younger children sat still while he spoke. And from the youngest to the oldest, he made everyone feel as if he were speaking to them personally.
No wonder the members of his parishes had loved him. No wonder every mother and father with a marriageable daughter wanted to claim him as a son-in-law. It was a miracle that none of them had snatched him for their daughter.
She lifted her gaze to the cross at the top of the carved oak altar. She loved it here. She always made a point of coming here when she visited Coventry Estate. Sitting here by herself in the peace and quiet was comforting.
She knew that, after what had happened to her, she shouldn’t feel that way, and at first she hadn’t. Then one of the older women who’d retired from Madam Genevieve’s, but still lived there and helped out, reminded her that God wasn’t the one who’d raped her. If she wanted to be angry with anyone, be angry with the devil. God wanted everyone to be good
and to love each other, but the devil was the one who was evil. He was the one who had controlled the man who raped her. God and his angels were crying tears because of what that sinner had done.
Hannah wanted to believe that. She needed to know that God hadn’t abandoned her or the children she loved and cared for.
She said a quick prayer that God would give her an answer where Rafe was concerned, then stood. He should be finished greeting his congregation by now, and they could go back to the Cottage. She’d promised the children she’d take them on a picnic this afternoon.
She turned and stopped. Rafe leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest and one booted foot over the other.
“Do you know how beautiful you look?”
“I believe you mentioned you found my attire passable when we left this morning, Vicar Waterford.”
“Passable? Did I say passable?”
Hannah felt a bubble of laughter rise to her throat. “Perhaps you used another word. I can’t remember.”
Rafe pushed himself away from the door frame and walked toward her. “I’m sure I used another word, and if you can’t remember, perhaps I should repeat myself. I said you were the most beautiful woman God has ever created.”
“Your flattery will not influence me in the least. I still insist that you accompany me on our picnic.”
“You think I would try to get out of it?” He reached her and looped her arm through the crook of his elbow. “I’ve been looking forward to being with the children since I found out you’d arranged a picnic.”
She held his arm close to her as they walked out of the church. “I know you have. The children have reminded me numerous times that Vicar Waterford will be there. They’re more excited because you’re going with us than they are about the promise of a boat ride.”
“I’m just as excited.”
She smiled. “I know.”
His enthusiasm amazed her. His love for children. The way he fit in perfectly with everything here. “You had them eating out of your hand this morning.”
He glanced at her with a frown on his face as if he didn’t quite understand her meaning.
“The people in church. Even the children. Not one lifted their gaze from you. You had their complete attention.”
“Isn’t that what speakers are supposed to do? Especially vicars?”
“Yes, but not many realize that.” They walked down the path that led away from the church and back to Coventry Cottage. “Every vicar I’ve ever met thought their purpose in standing up in front of their congregation was to put the fear of God in them.”
“Are you talking about your father?”
She lowered her gaze. “Yes. As well as all the speakers he forced me to listen to.”
“You must have had a horrible experience growing up. I’m amazed that you can even step foot in a church.”
“For a long time, I couldn’t. Then I remembered all the passages I’d read that said how good God was, how Jesus fed the multitude because he didn’t want them to go hungry. How he healed the lepers and the blind and the lame. I thought of all the good things in the Bible and knew my father was the one who had it all wrong.”
Rafe stopped. He grasped Hannah by her shoulders and turned her toward him. For several intense moments, he looked into her eyes, then he slowly lowered his head and kissed her on the forehead. “Have I ever mentioned how special I think you are?”
Hannah shifted her gaze from his. He had mentioned that and much more.
“Have I mentioned that I believe I am in love with you?” he whispered.
Hannah closed her eyes. He’d mentioned that too. But she couldn’t believe he could be. He knew of her past. He knew what she’d been, what she’d done—what had been done to her. How could he love her? How could any man love her—especially a man as good and perfect as Rafe?
He lowered his head again and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I know how frightened you are, Hannah. I know you think that if you just give me enough time, I’ll wake up one day and realize I can’t possibly love you. But that won’t happen. I know the real you. Not the person you pretend to be in London, but the person you are here, the one who’s devoted her life to saving as many children as she can from monsters like Skinner.”
Hannah opened her mouth to argue with him, but the words wouldn’t come. How could she try to convince him that a future with her was impossible, when a future with him was everything she’d ever hoped for?
She tightened her hold to his arm, and they took their first step back to the mansion. They were together now. For a little while longer, she could dream.
Hannah sat back on the blanket and watched the children. The younger ones were playing games in the meadow. Several of the boys were holding fishing poles and anxiously awaiting a big fish to gobble their bait. Others were patiently waiting for Rafe to return so they could take their turn in a boat ride.
Hannah knew without a doubt that everyone—children and adults alike—would sleep well tonight.
“The vicar has a way with the children,” Rosie said when she sat down beside her.
“Yes. They all adore him. I think all of the older girls are half in love with him.”
“Do you blame them?”
Hannah looked at Rosie and laughed. “No, I guess not.”
She heard a commotion from the lake and looked up. Three girls were in the boat Rafe was rowing ashore. But Hannah didn’t concentrate on the girls. She kept her eyes focused on Rafe and the gentle roll of his shoulders.
He was tired.
“I think I’d better rescue our vicar before the girls wear him out.” Hannah rose from where she sat and walked toward the water’s edge. “That’s enough, girls. It’s time we headed back to the Cottage.”
She held up her hand to quiet the moans and groans. “Besides, Cook has promised she’d have a special surprise waiting for us when we returned. And I swear I detected the faint whiff of gingerbread baking when I left.”
The promise of gingerbread pacified them a little, but it wasn’t a suitable replacement for spending several minutes in such close proximity to Vicar Waterford. Hannah couldn’t stifle the laugh that wanted to escape.
The girls made a point of thanking Rafe for the enjoyable afternoon, then reluctantly walked to where the other adults were rounding up the younger children and shepherding them back to the Cottage.
“My shoulders and back thank you,” Rafe said, climbing onto dry land and pulling the boat onto the bank. When Rafe had the craft adequately secured, he sat down on the grass and flopped backward with his arms outstretched. “There was a time when I thought I could happily row a boat for days on end. Now I know that was a delusion. I’m not nearly as strong as I used to be.”
“You haven’t completely recovered.”
“I’ve turned into a weakling.”
Hannah laughed at him, then took his hand when he held it out for her. She sat on the ground beside him.
“Have they all gone?” he asked.
“The children?”
“No, everyone.”
“No. They’re still gathering the last of the picnic lunch and the blankets scattered on the ground.”
He moaned. “Tell me when they’re gone.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to kiss you, and I can’t until everyone has gone.”
Hannah couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “Oh.”
“That’s all? Just ‘Oh’?” He turned to his side and rested his head in his palm. “And don’t tell me you don’t want me to kiss you, because I know you do.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I’ve known it all day.”
“All day?”
He lifted his gaze and looked into her eyes. “Yes. At least since we came here for our picnic.”
“You’re quite sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she teased.
“I have to be,” he answered. “I have to make up for all your doubts.”
�
��Those aren’t doubts, Rafe. I’m simply realistic where you’re anything but.”
“Do you know what your problem is, Hannah?”
She waited.
“Trust. You don’t trust me.”
“Trust has nothing to do with this, Rafe. I’d trust you with my life. I just don’t want to be responsible for yours.”
“It’s not your life you’re unwilling to trust me with. It’s your future. You aren’t brave enough to trust me with your future.”
“That’s because I can see what you are unwilling to face.”
“If you think your reputation will make me hate you, or your past will be a stumbling block for me, you’re wrong.”
“I’m a prostitute, Rafe. A whore.”
He stopped. The expression on his face died, and some of the ruddy color left. “You are a prostitute?” he asked. “Or you were a prostitute?”
“Does it matter?”
He sat upright. “Of course it matters. It matters a great deal.”
Hannah turned to look out onto the gentle waters streaming by. It was so peaceful here. So calm. She tucked her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Were,” she answered. “I was a prostitute. For several years I sold my body to the man who paid me to offer him my favors.”
“Then that’s in your past. That has nothing to do with who you are now.”
“It has everything to do with who I am. I am Madam Genevieve. I own one of the most well-known, expensive brothels in London. I cater to the most elite group of men Society has to offer. And my girls get paid well for what they do.”
“You don’t need Madam Genevieve’s. You can give it up, walk away from it.”
“No, I can’t.”
“You can. This can be your life, helping these children. Teaching them, training them. Finding positions for them.”
“You don’t understand.”
He ignored her. It was as if he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. Or that he didn’t want to see the whole picture.
“I can’t give up Madam Genevieve’s.”
