by Nerys Leigh
~ ~ ~
Despite the lateness of the hour when they got back to the Ravensworth home, many of the windows still glowed with light.
Ira helped Millie from the carriage and she headed for the house without so much as a glance at George. How things could change in the short time they’d been away, he wasn’t quite sure.
Harris stood waiting for them at the door and Millie handed him her wrap as she entered the warmth of the house. George noted that the butler didn’t say anything, probably in response to her expression.
It was obvious Millie was upset and angry, although at that moment George didn’t know if it was primarily at him, at Fitzgerald, or just the world in general. It may have been a long time since he was a married man, but he remembered enough to know that asking wouldn’t have been the best course of action at that moment. Besides which, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
George’s mood turned even darker when Judge Ravensworth appeared in the drawing room doorway. More condemnation was the last thing he needed.
“Millicent, what’s wrong?” Ravensworth rushed to his daughter and took hold of her shoulders. “What happened?”
Pursing her lips, she shook her head and looked away from him.
He turned his gaze on George, his expression turning from worry to anger. “What did you do to her?”
Releasing Millie, he strode towards George.
George lifted his hands. “I didn’t…”
Ravensworth reached him and raised his fist.
George saw it too late.
For an older man who had spent his working life sitting in a court, the former judge had an impressive punch. George stumbled backwards, hand clutching his aching jaw.
“Daddy!”
Ignoring his daughter’s shocked exclamation, Ravensworth advanced on George again, fists raised. “No one hurts my little girl.”
There were several courses of restraint open to George at that moment, but he wasn’t in any mood to turn the other cheek. If the man determined to get him out of Millie’s life wanted a fight, he was more than happy to give it to him.
He threw an intentionally weak jab with his left fist. When Ravensworth easily blocked, he followed up with a right cross that sent the judge staggering backwards.
Ravensworth raised a hand to his nose and pulled it away bloody. The sight seemed to make him even angrier. With a snarl, he launched himself at George, taking him by surprise and throwing them both to the floor.
The judge was stronger than he looked. George struggled to push him off, grunting when a punch landed in his ribs. He threw one of his own and Ravensworth rolled away.
“Daddy! George! Stop!”
Neither of them paid any attention to Millie’s frantic cries as they grappled across the tiled floor, both throwing and receiving blows, neither able to get the upper hand.
Then somehow, Ravensworth managed to pin George on his back.
Face contorted in fury, he raised his fist.
“Leonard! Stop this at once!”
Ravensworth froze and looked up. George twisted his head round to see Ann standing at the foot of the stairs. Her expression could have halted a stampede.
Mini bounced down the stairs behind her, barking furiously.
Throwing a final glare at George, Ravensworth rolled away and pushed to his feet. George rose more slowly, pressing a hand to his aching side.
Ravensworth was breathing heavily, one lip split and blood seeping from his nose. From the way his face felt, George was sure he didn’t look any better.
“What is the meaning of this behavior?” Ann demanded, her tone frostier than a winter morning in the Sierras.
“He did something to Millicent.” Ravensworth looked inclined to restart the fight, disapproving wife or no.
“He didn’t do anything to me,” Millie snapped, “as you would have known if you’d asked instead of just attacking him.” She moved her ire to George. “And you! Punching my father!”
She was blaming him?
Mini directed a sharp yap in his direction, as if joining in the accusation.
“He started it.” His reply sounded a lot more childish than he would have liked.
“But you had no problem with finishing it.”
“He couldn’t have finished it even if he wanted to,” Ravensworth scoffed.
“Leonard!”
He visibly flinched at his wife’s reprimand but nevertheless looked not at all penitent.
Anger well and truly robbing him of any good judgment he might have had left, George took a step towards him. “You want to put that theory to the test?”
“George!”
He winced at Millie’s exclamation.
“The two of you are behaving like children. I’ve had enough of men for tonight.” Waving her hand as if done with both of them, she spun away and marched up the stairs, her final words drifting back to them from the landing. “You can kill each other for all I care. I’m going to bed.”
With a final scowl that conveyed in no uncertain terms that if George dropped dead right then, he’d happily dance on his grave, Ravensworth stomped into the drawing room.
Ann turned her gaze on George and raised her eyebrows. Mini sat beside her, staring up at him.
He suddenly felt like a naughty child.
Lowering his eyes, he muttered, “Sorry, ma’am,” and headed for the stairs, trying not to grimace at the pain as he ascended the staircase.
Chapter 10
George woke the next morning to multiple aches and pains throbbing from his face and body.
The fight with Ravensworth wasn’t his first, not by a long shot, but it had been a while since he’d received so many bruises all at once. He was too old for this kind of thing.
He stared up at the elaborate plasterwork molding in the corner of the ceiling. A ceiling was a strange thing to miss, but he missed the simplicity of the one in his house. It was just a plain ceiling, but it was his ceiling, in his house.
He didn’t belong here.
He didn’t belong with Millie.
He squeezed his eyes closed against the pain that flared in his chest at the thought. He’d wanted so badly to somehow be able to overcome the differences between them, and he’d been sure he could.
Why should it matter where they came from? They enjoyed each other’s company and their attraction was undeniable. In hindsight, it had probably been naïve of him to assume that was all they’d need, but what else could he do but try? She was the first woman in twenty-four years who had made him long to regain what he’d lost when Clementine died. He’d have regretted it for the rest of his life if he hadn’t at least tried.
But it had all been for nothing. He’d lost control of his emotions, let his anger take over, and destroyed any chance he may have had. There was no going back from the fight with her father, not to mention the derision from her so-called friends. She’d never want him now, and he couldn’t blame her.
It had been a foolish dream anyway, thinking he could be a match for her, that he had anything to offer her at all. He should have stayed back in Green Hill Creek, where he belonged. Where there was no risk of his heart being broken.
“Good morning, Lord,” he murmured, sitting up. He pressed a hand to his bruised ribs with a grimace. The journey home wasn’t going to be a comfortable ride. “I’m sorry for yesterday. There were a lot of things I did that You wouldn’t be pleased with, I know. I don’t think I’ve been thinking straight since I got here. First there was that oaf, Fitzgerald…”
As was his usual habit, he prayed as he washed and dressed. He didn’t feel especially better by the end, but he knew his heavenly Father had forgiven him. He prayed that one day Millie would too.
He was packing his clothes into his battered old leather bag when the knock came on his door.
“Come in.”
He was expecting Harris with orders for him to leave. Or even Ravensworth, with the same orders but delivered with much more animosit
y. And possibly the aid of a shotgun.
The one person he wasn’t expecting was Millie.
The truth was, he wasn’t expecting her to want to ever see him again.
The moment she walked in, her eyes went to the open bag on his bed. “What are you doing?”
He tried for a smile, but it wouldn’t come. The sight of her, knowing she’d never be his, made his heart ache even more. “Leaving.”
Her forehead furrowed. “Why?”
He turned away to resume his packing. He’d have assumed she was mocking him, if he hadn’t known her incapable of such cruelty. “How can you ask me that after last night?”
“You mean what happened with my father?”
“I mean everything, your father, the ball, your friends. I was a fool to think that you and I…” His hands stilled, although he didn’t turn to face her. “All I’m doing is making things worse for you. It’s best I leave now, for both our sakes.”
Before he fell for her even harder than he already had.
“So you’re just leaving at the first sign of any difficulties?”
He turned to face her. “The first sign of any difficulties? I haven’t had anyone you know happy to meet me since I’ve arrived. Over and over it’s been made clear to me that I’m not good enough for you, by just about everyone you know. Other than your mother, and I don’t reckon she’s too pleased with me now. You’re better off without me.”
Eyes flashing in anger, she planted her hands on her hips. “George Parsons, I thought you more of a man than that!”
“I’m a man, not a fool, at least not in this. Your father tried to bribe me to leave, and when that didn’t work he threatened to have me arrested and thrown into jail.”
“And you believed him? He would never do that.”
“Really? You know that for a fact, do you? Because that fight last night seemed real convincing to me!”
She waved a hand at his bag. “So you’re just going to up and leave, without even asking me what I want?”
He knew she didn’t want him. How could she? “I don’t…”
He was interrupted by Harris appearing at the open door to his bedroom.
“Madam, sir, forgive me for the intrusion, but there’s a woman downstairs insisting on speaking with you both. She seems rather distressed. A Mrs. Sullivan?”
“Mr. Parsons? Miss Ravensworth?” It was her voice calling from downstairs, and she sounded scared.
Harris sighed. “I do apologize. I told her to remain in the kitchen.”
“That’s all right, Harris,” Millie said as she led the way from the room.
They found Mrs. Sullivan at the foot of the stairs attempting to circumvent the cook, who was blocking her way. She looked markedly different from when they’d first met her. Dark circles shrouded her eyes and her hair was unkempt and falling haphazardly from the pins that once held it in place. Mud stained the hem of her dress and one sleeve was torn.
She gasped in relief when she saw George and Millie. “Oh, thank the Lord. Please, I didn’t know where else to go.”
“It’s all right, Mrs. Winters,” Millie told the cook as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She took Mrs. Sullivan’s hand. “What’s wrong?”
Mrs. Sullivan grabbed onto her like a lifeline in a storm. “It’s Henry and Mary, they’ve disappeared.”
George’s gut clenched. “Disappeared?”
She nodded, the words flooding from her lips as tears trickled down her cheeks. “They didn’t come home yesterday. I waited until nightfall, then I knew something was wrong. Henry would never keep his sister out after dark. I went to the police, but they just took my statement and said they’d look into it. But I know they won’t. Henry and Mary are just two more poor children to them. I’ve been out all night searching, but I don’t know where to look. Please, you have to help me. You said I could come to you if I needed anything.”
“What’s going on out here?” Judge Ravensworth strode from the drawing room.
The left side of his mouth was swollen and a large, purple bruise the size of George’s fist covered one cheek. George knew from looking in the mirror when he got up that his own face had fared no better.
Ravensworth flicked him a brief, icy, look.
“Daddy, this is Mrs. Sullivan,” Millie said. “I told you about her. Her children have gone missing and she needs our help.”
His expression immediately softened. “Then she shall have it. Tell me everything.”
George wasn’t sure what he was expecting from Ravensworth, but it wasn’t sympathy and comfort. It seemed he was a perfectly reasonable man, to anyone not attempting to court his daughter.
While Mrs. Sullivan repeated her story to the judge, George ran back up the stairs to his bedroom. He didn’t realize Millie had followed him until she spoke from behind him.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes went to the gun belt he’d just taken from the dresser.
He wound the belt around his waist and fastened the buckle. “I’m going to get Henry and Mary back.”
“How do you know where they are?”
Even though he knew his revolver was loaded, he checked it. “I don’t, but I know where to start.”
He grabbed his jacket from the armoire, pushed the leather pouch in which he kept his spare cartridges into a pocket, and strode towards the door where Millie stood.
He expected her to step out of his way. She didn’t.
“I’m coming with you,” she said, pushing one palm against his chest to stop him from walking into her.
He almost laughed, before he realized she was serious. “Absolutely not. I’m not putting you in danger. No, and that’s final. You are not coming with me. You can stay here and comfort Mrs. Sullivan, but you will not leave this house. That is all. There is no way you are coming.”
She stared up at him impassively. “Are you finished?”
“I reckon I’ve made myself clear.”
“Good. Wait for me while I get my coat.” She spun away and ran from the room.
“Wait, Millie, no!” But he knew it was futile to argue. She would do what she wanted, and he adored her for it.
He could, however, get out before she came back. She’d likely hate him for it, but better her hatred than she was harmed in any way.
He raced along the corridor and back down the stairs, pulling on his jacket as he ran. Mrs. Sullivan was seated with Ravensworth on a couch in the hall. Ann had joined them. They all looked up at him as he rushed towards them.
“I’m going to find the children,” he said.
Ravensworth nodded. “I’ll get the police onto it.”
Mrs. Sullivan looked between the two of them. “But I already went there and they didn’t seem like they were going to do anything.”
“Oh, they’ll do something when I get there. I’ll have the entire force out searching before the hour is up.”
She blinked back tears. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my babies.”
Ann wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “It’s going to be all right. George and Leonard will find them.”
Mini whined from around their feet, standing up on her hinds legs against the couch and resting her head on Mrs. Sullivan’s lap.
“Tell Millie I’m sorry I didn’t wait,” George said, backing away.
For once, Ravensworth showed no hostility towards him at all. “May God go with you.”
With a final nod, George turned and headed for the kitchen, intending to go to the stables for Jordan. When he got out into the yard, however, he came to an abrupt halt, staring at the buggy standing outside in shock.
“What took you so long?” Millie said from the seat behind Ira.
George glanced back at the door. “How did you…?”
“Be awed by my speed later,” she said, waving him up. “We’re in a hurry.”
For a moment he considered protesting again, but he knew it would do no good. So he climbed up beside her and sent up a silent praye
r for her safety.
“Where are we going?” she said as Ira started the buggy off.
“To the tenement where Henry and Mary live. I’m going to speak to that manager of theirs.”
They reached the road and Ira urged the horses into a fast canter.
“How do you know he has something to do with it?” Millie said.
“I don’t, for sure, but there was something that bothered me about the way he looked at Henry when we were there. I’d be willing to lay money on him being involved, and I’m not generally a betting man.” He wrapped his fingers around hers, gazing into her eyes. “Promise me you’ll keep out of harm’s way. I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if something happened to you.”
She squeezed his hands. “I’ll be fine. I’ll have you and God to protect me.”
He couldn’t argue with that, but still… “Just promise me you won’t do anything…”
“Rash?” she said, when he paused to search for an appropriate word.
“You said it, not me.”
She smiled. “I won’t do anything stupid, I can promise you that.”
Somehow, he wasn’t overly reassured. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close, and a breath shuddered through his body when her arms wound around him in return.
He needed this. He needed her.
His thoughts went to the half-packed bag still lying on his bed.
Once this was all over, what would he do?
Chapter 11
With Ira pushing the horses faster than was necessarily safe on the city streets, they reached the Sullivans’ home in good time.
“Do you need any help in there?” he said as they pulled up outside the rundown building.
“Not here,” George said, jumping down to the street and jogging around to where Millie was already climbing from the buggy. “Just be ready to go when I get back.”
He briefly considered telling Millie to stay with Ira, but her expression precluded any protest he might have been inclined to offer. So he simply helped her to the ground and headed for the front door of the building with her on his heels.
A man was slumped on the stairs when they got inside, his head lolling forward on his chest and his loud snores echoing around the lobby.