Two Hearts

by Barbara Miller

  “It is not entirely up to you. I mean you have courted many women.”

  “But I have nothing in common with any of them. After the initial greetings, I begin to discuss the theater or literature and they stare at me as though I have grown donkey’s ears.”

  “After all the gossip about your opera dancer you are not what one expects.”

  He looked at her, feeling a grin spreading over his face.

  “For a start, you lead me to say such awful things.”

  He laughed again. “How else can one describe an awful life? I have found that opera dancers are more interesting than ladies of the ton except that they all play me false.”

  “That fault is not reserved for the lower classes. Many a fine lady has betrayed her lord.”

  “So I have discovered. Which is why I was courting the younger debutantes. But they are all terrified of me.”

  She looked at him inquiringly. “Let us say you are more mysterious than terrifying.”

  “But you are neither mystified nor terrified. Why is that?”

  Since they were walking the horses the groom had nearly caught up to them and she glanced back at Hanson before answering Brand. “I am not a green girl,” Grace said as she made the turn onto the south ride.

  “But just as vulnerable. Perhaps more so. Even your reputation might not survive an association with me that did not end at the altar.” It was a bold move and he wondered what she would counter with.

  “Of course it could. People know we are both mature adults who are interested in the theater. They will think we are nothing more than friends.”

  He glanced at her to see if she was serious about them only being friends. He wanted to protest, to tell her that he wanted more than that but the way she fingered her reins and tensed herself on the mare gave him the impression that he might indeed frighten her away if he spoke right now of marriage as his goal. “Are you saying you are willing to continue seeing me?”

  “I enjoy talking with you. I share your love for the theater. I think we could be good friends in a world where you never know who your friend is.”

  He nodded. “To date I have only one friend, the surgeon Thomas Pierce.”

  “That explains why he was willing to come in the middle of the night and why no one heard of my adventure.” She smiled, nodding to herself.

  They had come near the south gates and were surprised to encounter Captain Everson just headed for the park on a brown gelding. He was controlling the beast with one hand since his right was still in a sling but was having no difficulty.

  When the man smiled at her, Grace acknowledged him. “Captain Everson. You are up early.”

  “I could say the same of you.”

  He looked her up and down as though expecting to see…what? Some disarrangement of her dress as evidence of a tryst? But her generous nature must have interpreted it an admiring glance rather than a possessive or protective one for she smiled at the man. Brand began to steam and chewed over in his mind a variety of insults he might offer.

  “I always ride at the crack of dawn,” Grace said.

  “So do I. I did not realize it had suddenly become the fashion.”

  “Well, now you do,” Brand said with finality, urging his horse on.

  They left Everson staring after them as they picked up the pace to a trot again. Brand could not suppress a chuckle.

  “What is so funny?”

  “Another woman would have blushed to be caught alone with me and made excuses.”

  “Lame excuses,” Grace said. “We are doing nothing wrong.”

  “And you flaunt me at him as though we ride together every day.”

  She cast him a speculative glance. “You have said we will.”

  “But it will be all over Town by noon. After all, he is the cousin of Lady Charlton whose tongue wags as fast as a dog’s tail.” He studied her face to see how a hint of gossip would affect her.

  “If it is, I will know who spread the tale. But he is the cousin of her deceased husband and I doubt that he resides at her house.” Grace sent a speculative look over her shoulder.

  “But what will you say to people?”

  “Oh, I always tell them the truth. They don’t know how to handle it.”

  Brand gave a crack of laughter. “The truth. Now why have I never thought of that? Still, some people may drop you.”

  She tilted her head and her curls danced causing that seductive plume to mingle with the bronze of her hair in a riot of silken delight. “It’s a good way to sort them out, your real friends from the ones who just want something of you.”

  Sable curled his lip and whinnied to Dawn as they neared the eastern gate almost as though he knew he would be leaving the mare soon.

  “Sorry he is so obvious in his interest,” Brand said. “I shall control him.”

  “I think he is sweet.” Grace took the reins in both hands as she began to thread her way to Manchester Square. “Have you any doubt that he would fight any other stallion to protect Dawn?”

  “No doubt at all but his motive is a purely selfish one.”

  “Selfish?” Grace patted Dawn’s neck.

  The mare tossed her head causing the silvery mane to caress her neck beautifully. It made Brand think of Grace’s hair unbound and he became so absorbed in the fantasy of running his fingers through it he almost let Sable lip the mare on the shoulder.

  “Yes, if he could mount her now he would soon lose interest,” Brand said.

  “Well, she is not in season so she would not let him but I think his interest could be permanent if we let it. Would you be averse to breeding them?”

  “Not at all,” Brand said and cleared his throat. “Perhaps it would cool his hot passion. But he has never bred a mare before. He might injure her.”

  “Or she might damage his hind legs. He has more at risk than she does. What stud fee would you ask?”

  “For you, I would do it free.” Brand realized once he’d said it that there could be a double entendre and there was no hope that Grace would miss it. Indeed she burst into laughter. “Forgive me. I should not have spoken so boldly.”

  “If you recall, I was the one who brought up the subject. If there is any fault it is mine. A pity humans do not express their needs and desires as simply as horses. It would save a deal of trouble.”

  He realized he must be gaping at her and clamped his mouth shut without saying anything.

  “Now I have shocked you. Forgive me but I seem to be a different person when I am riding. It’s as though I have Dawn’s heart and legs, as though we are one and I have her courage too. I promise I will never be so bold in a drawing room.”

  “I call that a pity. If more women were so frank it would indeed save a deal of trouble. But where shall we accomplish the deed? With the horses, I mean. It might be better if I had the grooms take both of them to my estate.”

  “A long way to go for sex but I see your point. If we let them do it in the stable yard behind my house, it might shock the children.”

  “Children?” he asked with a choked voice.

  “I know. When the season is over, you can remove Dawn to your estate with the rest of your horses. I will come for her there after I visit my brother and his family. It does not matter to me what time of year the foal comes.”

  “A plan,” Brand said. He was just getting ready to ask what children she meant when they came to the alley leading to her stables and found themselves with the attentions of the disapproving coachman as well as the groom.

  “I usually breakfast at eight with Maria. If you trust my groom to cool your horse you are welcome to join us.”

  “I would like to, if you think…”

  “That it would not cause remark? If you are caught I think it will but no more so than escorting me at the theater or riding with me. And we know there is nothing wrong with it.”

  Brand examined his conscience to see if there indeed was anything wrong with sharing breakfast with a beautiful heiress and he
r companion. He remembered Thomas’ advice that if he meant to marry her then his conscience must remain clear. The decision was taken from him when Maria came running out the back door and down the steps.

  “Jilly is in labor and the midwife is from home. What are we to do, Grace?”

  “There must be someone we can get. Brand, do you know—”

  “I shall ride for Thomas, of course.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that? Take my mare for him to ride. It will save time.”

  Brand mounted and grabbed the mare’s reins from the shocked groom, then chuckled when he thought of rousing his friend from his bed with this tale. Who on earth was Jilly?

  Chapter Seven

  Grace mopped Jilly’s forehead and held her hand as another contraction racked her.

  “I’m going to die, just like my mother,” Jilly whispered through white lips.

  “Certainly not. We have sent for an excellent surgeon. He will know just what to do.”

  To Grace’s relief Jilly relaxed into a half sleep that lasted until booted feet sounded up the stairs twenty minutes later.

  “How far along is she?” Thomas asked as he tossed his coat aside and rolled up his sleeves.

  “Not very, I fear. It’s her first so this may be a long labor.”

  Thomas raised the sheet that tented over her knees. “Some progress. Let us raise her so gravity will help the babe along. What’s her name?”

  “Jilly.”

  “Keep your knees up, Jilly. Don’t hold your breath. Blow out when the pain comes. That will help.”

  Thomas turned to Grace. “Miss Montrose, can you see that I have some hot water and towels and…”

  “And what else?”

  “And make sure Brand is not wearing out your hall carpet. You’d think it was his child.”

  Grace laughed as she skipped down the stairs to the main hall and sent Maria scuttling off for the water and towels.

  “Well?” Brand demanded.

  “Well, what? Thomas is in charge and Jilly is doing well.”

  “Too bad she’s not a mare. We could have it over with in an hour.”

  “Why so tense, my lord? You don’t even know the girl.”

  “No. I do not know her. But I remember waiting for my nephews and nieces to arrive and it was damned uncomfortable.”

  “No wonder you have never married. You could never stand such suspense. I recommend you avail yourself of my excellent library.”

  “How could I knowing I can do nothing to help?”

  The maid trotted up the stairs with water and Grace sat on one of the steps to watch Brand pace. She thought he did it well and with concentration so she did not interrupt him. It occurred to her after a time that perhaps he was a father to a natural child and that was why he looked so guilty.

  “Who knows, perhaps it does help for a woman to hear these constant footfalls back and forth. I shall have to remember to listen for them if I am ever in a similar situation.”

  Brand smiled weakly and stopped to look through the railing at her. “Surely you mean to marry and have children someday.”

  “I should like to have children. Something in me wants them. Each one that is born here brings that home to me more and more.”

  “Each one?” Brand stared at her, distracted from his worry. “But whose children are they?”

  “The maids’ children. Connie has two, Janet one and now Jilly. I hope it’s a girl. I would dearly love to see a little girl grow up. No, I should not say that. I don’t care what it is so long as it is healthy.” Grace wrung her hands as Jilly’s cries of pain increased in volume and frequency.

  “But how is it that three of them became pregnant?” He came around to sit beside her on the step and take her hands.

  “How? I should think that would be no mystery to you. As to who, I would like him to have to sit here listening to her pain.”

  Grace held her hands over her ears and Brand hugged her telling her not to worry. They sat in companionable discomfort for another hour as the cries came closer and closer together.

  “She’ll be all right,” Brand said. “You wouldn’t think my sister was strong but she has whelped six children without taking any harm.”

  The moans from the upper bedroom ceased and there was dead silence for minutes. They stared at each other. Then a mewing cry made them both freeze. Brand leaped up and started up the steps only pausing to grab Grace’s hand and pull her to her feet.

  Thomas poked his head out of the room. “It’s a boy. I thought you’d like to know. Jilly is doing well.”

  Grace started to laugh for no reason, even as the tears filled her eyes. Brand hugged her in the middle of the stairs and without knowing how or why they were kissing, telling each other that everything would be all right. He hesitated first and looked at her with surprise. She smiled up at him.

  “Do you think they will let us see him?” she asked her voice still milky with tears.

  “I hope so.” He gripped her hand more firmly and led her up the stairs.

  * * * * *

  Half an hour later Brand checked his watch as Thomas was finishing his third helping of ham and bread and talking around mouthfuls as he related his adventures delivering babies in the East End. Grace and Maria were listening raptly but when Brand was unresponsive, the doctor looked from one to the other of them as though assessing their interest. Ordinarily Brand enjoyed Thomas’ stories but he had been upset to realize Grace’s house was a haven for unwed mothers. How would this look to society if anyone were to discover it? Now that he was seriously thinking of marriage with her it was his duty to protect her reputation.

  Brand put down his coffee cup. “One would think you were the one who had the baby, Thomas, from the way you are stuffing yourself.”

  “Let him eat,” Grace chided, picking up the coffeepot to refill Thomas’ cup, which he offered eagerly. “He did good work today and we did wake him out of a sound sleep.”

  “And I had been up all night,” Thomas added. “So I am replacing sleep with food.”

  “Well, I must go home,” Brand stated. “I will send the carriage round for you before you fall asleep at the table.”

  “You’re leaving me here alone?” Thomas asked with an arch to his brow.

  “That’s right,” Brand said then suddenly realized why Thomas questioned him. He turned to Grace. “Do not be trying to pay Thomas. He is my personal physician and I pay him well enough.”

  Grace looked at Brand in surprise. “But I daresay, there are many who do not—cannot—pay him at all. So it is only right that the rest of us make up for that.”

  “Why?” Brand asked, hearing the edge of exasperation in his own voice and not liking it.

  She stared at him as though he were being dense. “Social responsibility?”

  “A fine term to fling about when all your maids are pregnant,” he said with a rush.

  “Now that is untrue and unfair.” Grace stirred her tea vigorously, sloshing it into the saucer. “Emma is not pregnant.”

  “Of course not. Emma is over fifty.” Brand pushed his cup and saucer aside. “Now that I think of it, all your serving men look to be ancient. None of them could be the fathers.”

  “Is it likely I would keep a manservant who had gotten a girl pregnant then abandoned her?” Grace looked away, obviously not expecting an answer.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know how to take you at all.” He heard the words spilling out and he tried to stop himself but just blundered on. “This seems so irresponsible. Why did you not consign these girls to a charitable hospital?”

  Grace looked shocked and he realized the callousness of what he had just said but could not take it back.

  She glanced uncertainly at Maria before she answered him. “I suppose they do the best they can for girls who have no choice but to go there. Indeed I help support several such institutions myself. But these girls were so young.”

  Thomas sent Brand a warning look. “Many a fine lady tur
ns out a girl like that when she needs a roof over her head most.”

  “Well I know it,” Maria said. “Jilly worked for Lady Charlton.”

  Grace nodded in agreement. “One of my maids heard she was in trouble and I took her in.”

  “But you are letting yourself open to scandal,” Brand said, unable to keep the reproof out of his voice.

  “How so?” Grace asked. “They never serve company when they are pregnant.”

  “I hope you are not the only lady in London with a kind heart,” Thomas said, sitting back in his chair.

  “The baby’s father?” Brand demanded determined to take charge of the situation.

  “At sea.”

  “Too bad.”

  Grace shrugged. “I cannot see that it matters. Even if he had married Jilly she would still be alone, still working for her bread and still trying to keep her child in a safe place.”

  Thomas nodded with a wry smile. “I suppose most husbands are superfluous.”

  Brand glared at his so-called friend.

  “It is an oft-repeated story,” Grace said.

  “A boy needs a father,” Brand said. “What are the other children’s ages.”

  “They are all boys. Connie’s are six and three. Janet’s son is two.”

  Brand shook his head. “And what will happen when they are old enough to learn to steal on the street?”

  Grace clapped her teacup into the saucer. “That will not happen.”

  “Growing up here with no guidance…”

  “You mean no guidance other than from women,” Grace accused. “You seem to take a very dark view of the future of these boys as though we can do nothing to educate them.”

  “Brand knows a good school,” Thomas said helpfully. “A very good school for boys.”

  Grace glanced at him and the anger died out of her eyes. “School might be just the thing for the oldest. But it must be a day school. I won’t have him terrorized by being sent away.”

  Brand swallowed, trying to control his outrage on her behalf. He must if he was going to help Grace. There was no point in ranting at her for her charitable impulses. “I …have some influence with the headmaster,” Brand said. “I can get the oldest boy tested and admitted, as a day student, not a resident.”