by Joan Wolf
“Disgusting,” Sally’s escort said, looking down his nose. “These people shouldn’t be allowed in this part of town.”
“Stop!” Sally shouted, reaching for the reins. She halted the horses, and Lord Morple looked at her in astonishment as she swung herself down from the carriage.
“Here, Lady Sarah! You can’t do that! Come back here!”
Sally ignored him and ran toward the man who had once more raised his whip and it hit the boy again. “Stop that!” she commanded.
Sally had a very soft voice and the man ignored her, raising his whip yet again. “Ye wretched little cur,” he said. “I’ll have ye obey me or else.”
At that, Sally dashed in to throw her arms protectively around the child and the whip came down upon her own shoulder. She flinched but didn’t cry out. The man cursed.
“How dare you beat this child?” she said fiercely, the boy gathered safely to her breast. “What has he done to deserve such barbaric treatment?”
“It’s none o’ yer business, young miss,” the man replied. “But he’s one of my climbing boys and he refused to go up the chimney in yon house. I’m beatin’ some sense into him, that’s wot I’m doin’.”
“You wretched man,” Sally said passionately. High color stained her cheeks. “Would you send a frightened child up a chimney? What kind of monster are you?”
The boy whimpered and pressed closer to Sally.
“Don’t worry, my dear,” she said to him. “You are safe with me.”
“Here, that’s my boy,” the man said loudly, and he began to advance upon Sally, evidently with the idea of ripping the boy from her arms.
A deep, resonant voice said, “Desist, you worm. Lay one hand on the lady and I shall be forced to kill you.”
For a brief moment, Sally thought her escort had come to her rescue but then she realized that the voice was different. She looked up to see a tall, blond man dressed in a many-caped riding coat standing next to the chimney sweeper. “You cannot beat your poor unfortunate boys on the city streets,” the blond man said. “At least you can’t while there is a lady of mercy in the vicinity. I suggest you go about your business before I have you arrested for vicious conduct.”
“That boy’s mine,” the man said indignantly. “You can’t just take him from me! He’s worth money!”
“Slavery is outlawed in England,” Sally said. “If this boy chooses to leave you of his own free will, there is nothing you can do about it.” She looked down at the filthy head that was pressed against her breast. “Do you wish to leave this man, my dear?”
“Yes,” came the breathless reply.
“Then I think you have had your answer,” the tall stranger said. “Take yourself off before I am tempted to knock you down for attacking helpless children.”
His voice was cool and utterly authoritative. After a moment, the chimney man got back into his wagon and started up his poor, skinny horse.
Sally looked up at the man who had come to her rescue. Her escort was still sitting in his phaeton, staring at her. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “You came just in time.”
For the first time she noticed that the man’s eyes were a very unusual shade of green.
“Let’s have a look at the lad,” he said.
Sally put her hands on the boy’s thin shoulders and held him away from her. The front of her pelisse was filthy, from coal dirt and tears and the boy’s runny nose. She appeared not to notice.
“What is your name?” she asked gently.
“Jem,” came the reply.
“How long have you been a climbing boy?” the man asked.
“Just a few months. But I don’t like it. I’m afraid of getting caught in the chimney. But my pa said he couldna feed me, that I’d have to do it.”
“How old are you?”
“Eight.”
He was small enough to look five. He snuffled. Sally looked at her rescuer and said, “Do you have a handkerchief, sir?”
The thick blond brows rose, but the man reached into the pocket of his greatcoat and produced the article requested.
“Here,” Sally said, handing over the pristine handkerchief. “Blow your nose, Jem, and wipe your face.”
The two adults stood in silence and watched as the boy did as he was requested. When he was finished he attempted to hand the handkerchief back to its owner, who shook his head sharply and said, “No, no, you keep it, boy.”
Belatedly, they were joined by Sally’s stiff and proper escort, Lord Morple. “May I ask what you think you are doing, Lady Sarah?” he asked in chilly tones.
Sally looked at him steadily. “That man was trying to force this boy to climb chimneys to clean them. My cousin and I have been reading about this practice. It is barbaric!”
Lord Morple looked with distaste at the dirty child. “Nevertheless, it is legal. You had no right to interfere and remove him from his employer. You have made yourself filthy from embracing this vermin.”
Sally blue eyes flashed. “You are disgusting,” she said forthrightly. “Didn’t you see him beating this child?”
“It is deplorable, I agree, but it is none of our business,” her aggravated escort returned.
“Well, I am glad that someone came along who thinks differently about these matters,” Sally said. She turned to her green-eyed rescuer. He was regarding her with an expressionless face and narrowed eyes. “I am Lady Sarah Standish, sir, and I thank you for your assistance.”
He bowed. “It was my pleasure, ma’am. You were hit by that whip yourself. You must have it seen to when you get home.”
Sally shrugged. “Oh, I am fine. My pelisse is thick enough. It is Jem who is the victim here, not I.”
“Er…now that you have him, what do you plan to do with him?” her rescuer asked curiously.
Sally answered immediately, “I will take him home, of course, and clean him up. I am sure my brother will have someone on his estates who will be willing to take him in.”
“Do you expect to put that disgusting brat into my phaeton?” her escort asked.
Sally gave him a steady look. “Yes, I do.”
“I will be happy to give you a ride home, Lady Sarah,” her rescuer said. “Just keep the boy on the outside of the seat. Your clothes are already ruined, mine are not.”
Sally gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, sir. But I don’t know your name.”
“It’s Sinclair,” the man said. “I am the Duke of Sinclair.”
“Well, this is very kind of you, Your Grace,” she said, not showing any sign of recognizing one of the most notorious names in London. She looked down to the child and took his dirty hand into her expensively gloved one.
“You are coming home with me, Jem. This gentleman will take us in his carriage. Don’t worry anymore, you will be safe. I won’t let that dreadful man get you into his clutches again.”
They walked toward the duke’s elegant, high-perch phaeton. Sinclair put his hands around Sally’s waist and lifted her to the seat as if she weighed nothing. Next came Jem. Then he went around to the other side and climbed easily into the high seat by himself. He picked up his reins and the horses moved off, leaving the marquess’ heir behind them, staring with a mixture of astonishment and disgust.
Jem said in a small voice, “Where are we goin’, my lady?”
“Don’t worry,’ she returned soothingly. “We are going to my house, where you will have a bath and a good meal. Then I will find a family for you to live with in the country, where you will have plenty of fresh air and good food. How does that sound, Jem?”
“I ain’t never bin out o’ the city,” the lad replied.
“You will like the country very much. It is green and pretty and there will be no one to hit you or force you to climb chimneys.”
“I like that,” Jem said fervently.
Sally turned to her driver. “Can’t something be done about these climbing boys, Your Grace? My cousin and I have been following the debate in parliament and it seem
s impossible to us that such a custom should be allowed to continue.”
“I agree with you, Lady Sarah,” the deep even voice returned. “But I fear that there are not enough votes to pass the law.”
“That’s disgraceful!” Sally said hotly.
He shrugged and did not reply.
It was not long before they pulled up before Standish House in Grosvenor Square. The duke got down and came around to first lift the boy and then Sally to the ground. His hand upon her waist caused a strange chill to go up Sally’s back.
“I cannot thank you enough, Your Grace,” she said. “If you hadn’t come along I don’t know what I would have done.” Her voice took on a tinge of bitterness. “Lord Morple certainly wasn’t going to help me.”
The duke shrugged. He was as tall as Alex. His green eyes were truly remarkable.
Sally found herself wondering if he was married.
He bowed. “Good day to you, Lady Sarah,” he said, and turned to go back to his carriage. Sally stood watching him for a moment before she herself turned and, putting an arm around Jem’s shoulders, led him into the house.
Eight
Diana was in the hall and she immediately came to Sally’s side when she saw her companion.
“Poor child,” she said sympathetically when she had heard the story. “This practice of sending boys up chimneys to clean them must be stopped!”
“Henrys,” Sally said to the butler, “please have the bath filled in my room. And send out to the shops immediately to find some clothes that will fit Jem.”
The butler, who had been looking with horror at Sally’s dirty pelisse, now said, “You’re not going to bathe this beggar yourself, Lady Sarah?”
“I certainly am,” she replied. “He knows me and won’t be so afraid.”
“I’ll help if you like,” Diana said.
Sally gave her a smile. “Thank you.”
The water was brought, the tub was filled, and a reluctant Jem was plunked into it. It was the first bath the boy had ever had in his life and he wasn’t at all sure that he liked it. He was quite sure he didn’t like his hair being washed.
“You won’t drown,” Sally said, ruthlessly plunging his head under water to wet it, “and you’ll feel so much better when you’re clean.”
Indeed, he did look like a different boy, with his mud-colored hair restored to its natural sandy color and his skin pink and clean. Henrys had managed to procure clothes and once he was dressed in simple nakeen trousers and a white shirt and jacket, he looked perfectly respectable.
Sally let him look in the mirror in her room and he couldn’t believe what he saw.
“That’s me?” he kept asking.
“That’s you,” Sally and Diana assured him.
“Now I have to ask Alex if he can make arrangements to take care of Jem,” Sally said. She looked anxiously at Diana. “He will help, won’t he?”
Diana answered immediately. “Of course he will. He’s not in the house just now, but perhaps he will be back for luncheon.”
But Alex didn’t show up for lunch and Sally was forced to tell her mother and Mrs. Sherwood about her morning’s venture without her brother’s assurance that he would take care of young Jem.
“Oh, Sally, that’s just like you,” moaned Lady Standish when she heard how Sally had jumped out of the carriage and run to clasp the boy in her arms. “What must Lord Morple have thought?”
“I don’t care one jot what he thought, Mother,” Sally replied vigorously. “I don’t want to have anything else to do with him. He was prepared to drive on by and leave that poor little boy to get a whipping.”
“My dear, you can’t right the wrongs of the world all by yourself,” Lady Standish said gently.
“No, but you can certainly make a difference in one child’s life,” Diana said forcefully. “Sally had the opportunity to save a little boy from a life of horror and she took it. I’m proud of her.”
The two cousins looked at each other.
“I don’t know what Alex is going to say,” Lady Standish said. “He will have to pay someone to take him. Most of our tenants are amply supplied with children of their own.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Diana said. “Perhaps Jem could live with Henley and his wife.” Henley was the chief groom at Standish Court and he was childless. “I’m sure he would be glad to have a son to whom he could teach his trade. And Henley is so gentle with the horses, he would be gentle with a boy as well.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Diana,” Sally said enthusiastically. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.”
“Alex will have to take Jem to Standish Court himself,” Diana said. “Henley will listen to him.”
“What will Henley have to listen to me about?” a voice enquired from the door and everyone turned to see Alex coming into the room. He was dressed in morning clothes, a blue jacket with pale yellow pantaloons and gleaming Hessian boots. His hair, which had started the day brushed into perfect order, had fallen forward over his forehead in a tumble of black curls. Many men in London would have killed for those curls, but Alex hated them and tried religiously to brush them back from his forehead. He was rarely successful for any length of time.
He sat at the table and the servants scrambled to bring him a plate of cold meat and some bread. Once more Sally related her encounter of the morning.
Diana said, “I thought Henley would be the perfect person to take Jem. I am sure he would like to have a son.”
“Oh you are, are you?” Alex replied.
“Yes. I got to know Henley quite well this last year, since your father died and I rather ran the stables. I think their childlessness has been a bitter blow to them both. I think they will take Jem.”
“If you know Henley so well, then you had better come with me,” Alex said to Diana. “Such a suggestion would be better coming from you than from me.”
“Alex is right,” Sally said. “You know Henley much better than he does. Would you mind, Diana?”
“No, of course not,” Diana said, sensing her cousin’s eagerness to put her alone with Alex.
“I don’t know if Diana and Alex should go together,” Mrs. Sherwood said. “How would it look?”
Lady Standish looked surprised. “They are like brother and sister,” she said. “I don’t see a problem.”
Mrs. Sherwood didn’t answer, but turned her worried gaze to Diana.
“It will be all right, Mama,” Diana said. “We will just be gone overnight.”
“I think Sally should go too,” Mrs. Sherwood said.
“I would be happy to go,” Sally said.
“My love,” Lady Standish said, “don’t you remember that you are to play at the musicale tomorrow afternoon?”
“There is no need for Sally to chaperone me and Alex,” Diana said firmly. “We will go to Standish Court, talk to Henley, leave off Jem—I hope—and be back the following day. No one will even know that we are gone.” She looked at her mother. “I really do feel that I should be the one to talk to Henley.”
After a moment, Mrs. Sherwood nodded. But she still did not look happy.
“Who was the man who rescued you?” Mrs. Sherwood asked Sally. “Did you get his name?”
“I did,” Sally said. “He is the Duke of Sinclair. Can you imagine that?”
Lady Standish went pale. Alex’s hand, which had been in the process of buttering a piece of bread, went still.
“Who did you say?” Lady Standish asked.
“He told me he was the Duke of Sinclair.” Sally had not missed the reaction of her mother and her brother and her chin rose slightly. “I thought it was very chivalrous of him to come to my assistance.”
“Chivalry is not something that one associates with Sinclair,” Lady Standish said sharply. “In fact, he is a man I would prefer you to stay away from, Sally. And you too, Diana, dear.”
“What is wrong with him?” Diana asked practically.
“He has a bad reputation,” Alex
said shortly. “I haven’t been in town for very long, but I have heard all about him.”
“What has he done?” Sally asked.
Alex put down his butter knife. “His father was a very dissolute man and Sinclair grew up in a household that more often than not contained his father’s latest mistress. He himself has had a bad reputation with women ever since his school days. He’s a duke, of course, and immensely wealthy, but he’s not the type of man you should associate with, Sally. To put it bluntly, he’s an immoral rake. Don’t go making a hero of him.”
Sally’s gently rounded chin lifted. “I am not saying he is a hero, but he certainly came to my rescue today.” She turned to her mother. “Is he invited to our ball, Mama?”
“Of course not!” Lady Standish replied.
“Well, I want him to be invited. He was very kind to me. That wretched Lord Morple would have left me standing there by myself, with that awful slave driver and his whip.”
Lady Standish shook her head and frowned.
Mrs. Sherwood said gently, “It appears that he was very kind to Sally, Amelia. Is he so beyond the pale of good company that it would be impossible to invite him?”
“No, he’s not,” Lady Standish replied reluctantly. “One sees him at balls occasionally, but not at the come-out balls of young girls.”
“Perhaps we can make an exception,” Mrs. Sherwood said.
Lady Standish turned to her son. “What do you think, Alex?”
Alex was looking at his sister. “I don’t think it can hurt to invite him,” he said slowly. “Sally is bound to meet him at other affairs, and I suppose we should show our appreciation for his rescue of her and that wretched boy. Besides, he probably won’t come. I doubt that come-out balls are quite his métier.”
