by Regina Darcy
A slight smile on his face, David made his way through the cobbled streets and back towards home. He wondered what Miss Hemsworth would say when he told her the news, hoping that she would be delighted that he had found a man familiar with the law and the local area to help look into the situation. However, the person he could not get from his mind was Miss Worthington, remembering how she’d smiled at him when he’d promised to help. What would she say when he told her the news? Would she smile at him again, her eyes lighting up as they had done before? Warmth burst in his chest as the vision of Miss Worthington lingered in his mind. He found himself unable to stop obsessing about her and discovered that, were he honest with himself, he did not want her gone from his thoughts at all.
EIGHT
“Brandy, Lord Rashton?”
Charity frowned, creeping a little closer to the door and praying that the floor did not creak beneath her feet. She was busy sweeping, should anyone ask, although her true intention was to discover what exactly Mr Savage was doing meeting with one of the most notorious rakes in all of London. Lord Rashton was known to be both cruel and hard-hearted, taking whatever and whomever he wanted and causing both destruction and disarray should he be denied it. It was as though he meted out punishment if he did not get his way, like a god sitting on his throne ordering mere mortals around. Charity disliked him intensely, even though she had never been formally introduced to the man before.
Miss Hemsworth had rushed into the dining room mere minutes earlier, whispering to her that Lord Rashton had appeared at the door, come to visit her uncle. Miss Hemsworth had taken him to meet her uncle in his study as she ought, but had been dismissed outright. Miss Hemsworth was also quite sure that one of the servants was following her, which meant that she was unable to spy on her uncle’s meeting. Charity had opened her mouth to say more, only to notice a man step into the room and attempt to blend himself into the shadows. It was one of the new footmen, if Charity was correct, but Miss Hemsworth’s warning suddenly rang true. Robert Savage was keeping a close eye on his supposed niece.
“Of course,” she had said, loudly. “I quite forgot, Miss Hemsworth. Do forgive me.”
Miss Hemsworth had cottoned on at once, a gleam of understanding in her eye as she’d drawn herself up to her full height. “Just get it done please, Miss Worthington. None of us can shirk in our duties, as you well know. I have much to get on with.”
Charity had bobbed a quick curtsy before exiting the room, her heart in her throat. Urgency had pushed her steps, forcing her to walk quickly. She’d found the broom and had begun sweeping, waiting for a few minutes to see if anyone in particular was following her moments. When all was quiet, Charity had slowly moved towards Robert Savage’s study, sweeping the corridor outside it for a time before giving up entirely and simply listening.
A low chuckle made her skin crawl. “Brandy is not all you are about to offer me, I hope, Savage.”
“Not in the least,” came Robert reply.
“I have not forgotten what you owe me and I had hoped that you were about to pay off your debt.”
Charity frowned. It appeared that Robert Savage owed money to a great number of people. This did not bode well for either Miss Hemsworth or the other young ladies living at St Bernadette.
“I do intend to pay it, of course,” Robert replied, smoothly. “Although I do have something of a proposal for you.”
There was a short pause. “I’m listening.”
“I thank you.”
Charity thought she could detect a note of relief in Savage’s reply, her heart beginning to pound over what she might hear next. It was not going to be a good scenario, of that she was quite sure.
“As you know, I have recently taken ownership of this place,” Savage began, grandly. “I have now assumed full control.”
“And convinced the authorities that you are, in fact, Miss Hemsworth’s uncle, I hear,” Rashton interrupted, laughing. “I had not thought you as devious as this, Savage.”
“Regardless of what you think of me, I have a proposal for you that I am sure you will not turn down.”
“And what is that?”
“A young lady.”
Charity’s breath caught in her throat, a strangled gasp leaving her mouth.
“What can you mean?” Rashton chuckled, as though Savage’s suggestion was quite ridiculous. “I have no need of female company.”
“You mistake me entirely,” came Savage’s reply. “Let me explain. The majority of the girls here come with significant stipends, which are to be bequeathed to them when they marry. Money which falls directly under my control as their guardian. After all that is why their relations duped them here, to be rid of any responsibilities. Should you decide to take one on, you understand, that stipend would be yours.” A slight laugh reached Charity’s ears. “At least, the money I owe you would be yours. I would keep a portion of the sale, you understand.”
There was a short silence.
“And she would be mine to do with as I pleased,” Rashton said, slowly.
“Precisely. You might even make more from her selling her on,” Savage replied, sounding quite cheerful. “You may have your pick, of course. There is to be a ball here next week and you may see the girls paraded around in all their finery.”
Charity stepped back from the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She did not know what to do, or what to think. This was the evidence they had needed, the proof that Miss Hemsworth had been quite correct in her concerns over what Robert Savage was doing.
“Ah, Miss Worthington!”
Lord Cunningham’s voice broke into her panicked thoughts, but did not calm her in the slightest. Growing frantic, she pressed a finger to her lips, her eyes wide and staring. Savage and Rashton could not know that she had been listening!
“Whatever is the matter?” he asked, growing closer.
“Did you hear something?”
Charity froze, hearing Savage’s words. Without thinking, she hurried towards Lord Cunningham, grasping his arm with a strength she did not know she possessed. Finding the door she was looking for, she pulled it open and shoved Lord Cunningham inside, following him at once. The heavy door swung shut behind her, throwing them into near darkness.
“What is the matter, Miss Worthington?”
“Hush,” she begged, aware that they were both standing in a broom cupboard in close proximity but having nothing but fear rifling through her veins. “Please, be silent, Lord Cunningham.”
To her very great relief, he did so at once, his breathing the only sound.
“I am sure I heard something,” she heard someone say, finding that her hands were now clinging to Lord Cunningham’s sleeves. “You have too many spies, Savage!”
Robert Savage’s laugh grated on her ears, making her shiver. “Better too many than too few, Rashton,” he replied, harshly. “Come now, as you can see there is no-one here. Let us conclude our business.”
Charity waited quietly, her heart pounding in her chest as the sound of footsteps walked right past their cupboard, pausing briefly before the sound of a door closing met her ears. She sagged immediately, tension leaving her body in a rush and leaving her with a feeling of weakness.
“Careful, now,” Lord Cunningham murmured, catching her around the waist. “Take a breath, Miss Worthington.”
Perhaps it was the fact that they were standing so close, or the realisation that they were now safe from Savage’s notice, but Charity suddenly found herself pressed against Cunningham’s chest, as his hands wrapped around her waist. She drew in a few long breaths, taking in the scent of pine that he carried with him, finding it a balm to her still frightened heart.
He was strong, she realised, the hard plane of his chest supporting her as she rested there. It was quite improper to be behaving in such a way, of course, but Charity found that she could not step away. Her heart began to quicken once more, but this time for an entirely different reason. His nearness, his closeness to her, began to awak
en deep feelings that started to slowly curl up in her chest, sparking electricity that ran down into her very fingertips.
“Miss Worthington?” came Lord Cunningham’s whisper. “Are you quite well?”
Charity managed to lift her head and look up into his face. Only a small sliver of light crossed his face, coming from the crack in the door. The rest of his features were hidden in shadow, meaning that she could not quite make out what it was he was feeling. However, she could hear the concern in his voice, grateful that he was worried for her.
“I am quite well,” she replied, keeping her voice quiet. “I was afraid for a moment. I thought Lord Rashton might discover us. What would he have done then?”
“What indeed?” Lord Cunningham replied seriously, even though Charity was sure she heard a note of humour in his voice. “Do you think it is safe to depart this cupboard now?”
Blushing furiously, Charity stepped back from him but found that his arms lingered around her waist for just a moment longer.
“We must be careful,” she murmured, breathlessly. “They might still discover us – or one of Savage’s many henchmen might be watching.”
“All the more reason to return to Miss Hemsworth, then,” Lord Cunningham muttered, stepping away from her and pushing the door open a crack.
Within a few minutes, Charity found herself walking alongside him towards the drawing-room, in the hope of finding Miss Hemsworth ensconced within. That had been a frightening ordeal, but why was it her heart was pounding over her encounter with Lord Cunningham, instead of over what Robert Savage had revealed?
NINE
Miss Hemsworth gasped, her hand going to her mouth as Miss Worthington finished revealing what she had heard.
“I know this is terrible news, Miss Hemsworth,” Miss Worthington finished. “But at least we are now aware of what your uncle is planning. It is as you thought.”
Miss Hemsworth shook her head, her eyes rounding. “I had not thought he would seek so much wealth for himself.”
David cleared his throat, his stomach tightening inexplicably when Miss Worthington looked up at him. “I should discuss this with Arthur Sandiford,” he said, quietly. “He will want to know what we have discovered. It would be good to set his legal mind to the task of untangling this mess.”
Miss Worthington gave him a quick smile, and his felt something uncoil within him. How was this young slip of a muslin affecting him so profoundly?
There was so much brightness about her countenance, so much in her eyes that he could not help but respond.
“You have managed to speak to someone, then?” Miss Hemsworth asked, forcing him to drag his eyes away from Miss Worthington.
He nodded and briefly explained about Sandiford and Son, keeping his voice low.
Miss Worthington was quite right, Robert Savage appeared to have eyes and ears everywhere. “I am to search for these documents and replace them with copies, which I have here,” he continued, patting his coat pocket. “But I do not know where they might be.”
Miss Hemsworth stared at him for a moment, looking aghast. “You do not intend to start rifling through my uncle’s belongings, do you? He might discover you at any moment.”
“Yes, that is true, but this is where you come in,” he explained, seeing the dawning realisation on Miss Hemsworth’s horror-stricken face. “I need a distraction of sorts. Something that will keep Robert Savage busy whilst I look.”
“You are going to be putting yourself in grave danger,” Miss Hemsworth replied, at once. “I cannot ask you to do that.”
David opened his mouth to protest, to assure her that he wanted to do this, wanted to bring Robert Savage – or whoever he was – to justice, but just as he was about to speak, Miss Worthington interrupted him.
“Then I shall be the one to replace the papers,” she said, practically. “After all, I have more of an idea of where to look for one and, two, Miss Hemsworth and yourself can discuss preparations for the ball with Mr Savage. That should distract him long enough, should it not?”
“Charity!” Miss Hemsworth exclaimed, her eyes wider still. “Do you have any idea of what my uncle would do to you, should he discover you? You are already in danger of being sent to the colonies! I am sure he can think of much worse as punishment for even being in his private quarters. I cannot let you do such a thing.”
“I’m afraid I quite agree, Miss Worthington,” David added in at once, refusing to even acknowledge the idea as a potential way forward. “I could not, in good conscience, allow you to put yourself at risk.”
Miss Worthington shook her head. “I am already at risk, as you say,” she replied, doggedly. “It is evident that Savage intends to sell off every girl here, either to pay debts or to build up a small fortune for himself. We will only have one chance of success in changing those papers; therefore, it makes sense that I am the one to do it.” A small smile appeared on her face. “Besides, if I am caught, then I am sure I will be able to find a way out of this house. From that point, you shall find me on your doorstep, throwing myself entirely on your mercy, Lord Cunningham.”
David found himself robbed of speech for a moment, the idea of finding Miss Worthington on his doorstep more pleasing than it should have been. A slow heat was building, creeping up his spine, threatening to send colour into his cheeks.
“I am still not too sure about this, Charity,” Miss Hemsworth began, taking Miss Worthington’s attention away from him. “What if you are not successful? As you know, Mr Savage is not particularly interested in the ball. I might not be able to distract him for long.”
“Then I shall have to work quickly,” Miss Worthington replied, firmly. Holding out her hand for the papers, she tipped her head a little to the left and gave him a small smile. “You are both going to have to trust me, I think.”
“I do trust you,” David blurted out immediately, the fervour in his words surprising even him. “I am just concerned for your safety Miss Worthington.”
Miss Hemsworth walked to the door, shooing out one of their small dogs. “Let me just go to seek out my uncle,” she said, excusing herself. “I won’t be but a moment.”
David shifted a little uncomfortably, aware that he was now left entirely alone with Miss Worthington. He could not help but recall her warmth and softness as he had held her in the broom cupboard, nor the strong emotions warring in his chest as his hands had crept around her waist, almost of their own accord. Whatever it was he was feeling for Miss Worthington, it had not dissipated. In fact, it was growing stronger by the day.
“I wanted to thank you for the book of poetry you sent me, Lord Cunningham.”
Miss Worthington was looking at him with a measure of confusion in her eyes, which David found he could not quite place.
“I was glad to send it to you,” he said, with a slight bow. “I know just how much you care for poetry. I only picked up that book because I discovered it on the floor of the general goods shop. Realising that it had been yourself who had dropped it; it felt like the right thing to do to send it to you. I do hope you enjoy it.”
“I am sure I will,” Miss Worthington replied, the confusion clearing from her face. “It was kind of you to send it to me.”
Realising that she had been looking for an explanation as to why he had sent it to her, David found that he could not quite find the words to give her a complete justification.
The truth was that he had wanted her to have a gift from him, a token of how much he appreciated her candour, her bravery, her sincerity. It had been her words that had forced him to apologise to Miss Hemsworth. He appreciated how her courage astounded him. He could not say any of that, however, so contented himself with another brief smile.
“I am sorry for pulling you into the cupboard like that earlier,” Miss Worthington said, wandering over to sit in one of the more comfortable chairs and turning her face from him. “I was afraid that Savage might discover that I had been eavesdropping.”
“And so you silenced my
loud voice by doing the only thing you could,” David replied, coming to sit next to her. “Do not fear, Miss Worthington, I quite understand.”
“I am glad,” she murmured, although the heat in her cheeks told David that she was still a little embarrassed over the situation. “And I am glad that they did not hear us either.”
David swallowed hard, a wild hope suddenly beating in his heart. What he had been feeling for Miss Worthington could not be denied, but from the blush to her cheeks, could he allow himself to dream that she might feel something for him in return?
She had a background that would be looked down on by society, but David found that it did not matter to him in the least. If he married her, then there would be no way that Savage could send her to the colonies. She would be quite safe. The idea made his heart pick up its pace, and, as her eyes finally met his, David drew in a sharp breath.
Even in her plain dress and simple hairstyle, she was quite the loveliest creature he had ever laid eyes on. Her character and fortitude made her one of the most wonderful and interesting women of his acquaintance. Would he be able to find the words to tell her as much? Could he hope that she might turn his feelings, were he to speak of them?
Clearing his throat, David found that he could not drag his eyes away from hers. She was looking at him with a sense of anticipation, as though expecting him to say something of deep significance.
“Miss Worthington,” he began, his voice strangled and hoarse. “I was hoping —”
At that very moment, the door opened and Miss Hemsworth re-entered the room, her eyes bright.
“My uncle is asleep in the library,” she said, quietly. “Charity, if you were to go to his study now, then Lord Cunningham and I can ensure that he is kept busy, should he awaken. It gives you a little more time.”