Two Hearts

by Barbara Miller

  Grace looked suspicious. “That is kind of you, considering how stuffy you are about illegitimate children.”

  “Stuffy? You should be avoiding such a brush with scandal.” And suddenly he stopped himself. Then she should avoid him. Riding in the park with him surely did her less credit than taking in these unfortunates. And here he was condemning her.

  Grace shrugged. “I always have avoided scandal by luck I think more than by purpose. Why are you so concerned?”

  He hesitated and almost stuttered. “You have taken on more than you can handle here with these improvident children.” Why was he so concerned?

  “Oh, have I?” she demanded.

  “Don’t get angry again, Grace. I can see that they are educated, at any rate.” Brand pulled out a small notebook and penciled something in it. “No one at the school need ever know they have no fathers.”

  “Well, they are not fatherless, of course,” Grace said. “These things don’t happen by magic.”

  Maria choked on a crumb and Brand glanced at her in annoyance. He was sure Thomas was hiding a grin behind his napkin as he finally finished his meal.

  Grace looked Brand in the eye. “Though such children are better off raised by women than being battered about by a drunken father.”

  Brand nodded, biting back another retort. “His name—the child’s, I mean.”

  “John Taylor.”

  Brand wrote the name in his notebook. “I shall have one of the teachers call to see the boy. Then we will know better where he fits in the curriculum.”

  Grace smiled for no reason and it was as though the sun had come out after a sudden storm. “That is most kind of you after the way I ripped up at you especially considering…”

  “Considering what?”

  “That people may think he’s your son.”

  Brand opened his mouth, then shut it and left with Thomas. He supposed several people might leap to that conclusion but decided he would risk it for another of Grace’s smiles.

  As he and Thomas exited the back door Brand asked, “Why did you bring up the school?”

  “You are behaving mysteriously, Brand. Why didn’t you tell her you started and staffed that school for orphans? You would have risen immeasurably in Grace’s eyes since she is of a charitable nature herself.”

  “I would rather she likes me for myself and not my works.”

  “But a man is his works. You do like Miss Montrose, don’t you?”

  “Yes but there is something about her I do not understand.”

  “What?” Thomas asked as they watched the ancient groom lead out Brand’s horse and start to saddle it.

  “As responsible and well ordered as she seems to be she sometimes takes the most dangerous risks.”

  “How do you feel when you are with her?”

  “Challenged by her yet protective of her. I want to shield her even from my own harshness when she has no apparent need to be shielded. That’s not love.”

  Thomas laughed. “It’s more nearly love than anything you have ever experienced.”

  “But if I truly loved her I would dote on her and do anything she asks.”

  “And you may but not without an argument over anything not in her best interest. It’s just that—Brand, are you sure you know what is best for Miss Montrose?”

  “I know it is unwise for her to run an establishment for wayward women.”

  Brand reached for the reins and mounted, holding the horse in check since Thomas seemed about to say something else.”

  “I think you need to examine your conscience, Brand.”

  Brand waited until the groom had stepped away. “What do you mean?”

  “Tell me true, is it Grace’s reputation that concerns you or that of your future wife?”

  Brand hesitated, then spurred Sable into the alley and away from Thomas’ incisive question. The man’s tongue cut sharper than one of his scalpels. But Brand did think about his motives during the short ride home. By the time he went to check on his mother he had to admit that Thomas was right. He had been thinking of himself not Grace at all.

  His mother was sitting on the cozy sofa in front of a warm fire. She raised her cheek to be kissed and stared at him intently. “Something is troubling you.”

  “Do you think I am stuffy when it comes to things like respectability?”

  She laughed and Brand felt the years roll away as though she were about to solve all his problems as she had when he was a boy. “Who called you stuffy?”

  “Miss Montrose. I took exception to all the illegitimate children she houses. She seems to take in any maid off the street who has the misfortune to get herself pregnant.”

  “‘Get herself pregnant?’ It does not work that way, Brand. And if that’s the attitude you took I have to agree with Miss Montrose. Did you trample all over her good work?”

  “She should not even be exposed to such things.”

  “I admit I like her better than many who pretend there is no hardship in the world. How did she react to your stuffiness?”

  “She laughed at me.”

  Lady Morewood chuckled. “I like her better and better.”

  “Then she ended by telling me I had a kind heart to offer to get the children into a school.”

  “Well you do have a kind heart when you are not being stiff-rumped.”

  Brand sighed and looked at his mother who was smiling expectantly.

  “She is wrong about children not needing a father or male guidance. Look at my nephew Robin. He’s only been fatherless a few years and already he is unmanageable.”

  “That is your sister’s fault. Take him in hand yourself. You know he worships you.”

  “Dahlia’s husband never wanted me near the boy. He didn’t approve of me.”

  “Stop Robin’s allowance.”

  “What sort of ogre do you take me for?”

  “I think I am about to find out.”

  Brand stared at her until the comment sank in. “What do you mean? Has Robin done something?”

  “I will leave him to tell that tale.” She took up the book she had been reading as though the conversation was ended.

  “You mean he’s here now? Sent down from school?” Brand got up and looked toward the door.

  “Waiting for you in the library.”

  “That is all I need,” Brand said as he strode toward the door.

  “Now, Brand he is very sorry.”

  “I shall contrive to make him sorrier.” Brand left his mother in a rush and stalked downstairs to the library. At least Robin was a problem he could do something about.

  He was expecting a sullen boy. He was not expecting his sixteen-year-old nephew to squint at him through a blackened eye and run his tongue out to moisten a split lip. Since Brand had experienced those injuries on several occasions himself he felt a softening of his face.

  “Sent down for fighting?”

  “How did you guess?” Robin asked with a weak laugh. His blond hair raked his brow as he stood to face his uncle.

  “It’s not funny, Robin. They need not take you back even if I write them a convincing letter.”

  “Then do not write them. I don’t think I want to go back there, anyway. Though I suppose you will write to Mother no matter what I say.”

  Brand looked at his nephew and realized he was not a child anymore but almost a man. “I shall not write to her. I leave it to your conscience to decide when and what to tell her.”

  “Really? Aren’t you sending me home then?”

  Brand came to examine the lad’s face more carefully, tilting it up to assess if there was any permanent damage. “Not like this, at any rate. I may not love my sister but I don’t want her to see you like this.”

  When the boy’s face changed from forlorn to hopeful Brand could not help smiling at him.

  “Then I can stay?”

  “I think you had better at least until I can arrange for some boxing lessons for you.”

  Chapter Eight

 
; Grace was glad the morning started with pouring rain. Even the most avid horseman would not expect to go riding in this and she had for once something she would rather do than canter around Hyde Park. She let the curtain fall back into place in Jilly’s room and turned to find that Maria was now holding the baby after its feeding and that she had missed her turn.

  Indeed the room had seemed overcrowded with women this morning offering to rock young Ned. What was the attraction? She did not know for babies could be fussy. When they were ill or crying one hardly knew what to do for them. But just now, when the infant was smiling in his sleep and smelling of milk, she knew she would do anything to protect him even though he was not hers.

  Especially she would defend him against the harsh words of Lord Morewood. But if Brand did not approve of children why then had he been so relieved at the safe arrival of the baby that he had kissed her on the stairs. Indeed when they had come to see Ned yesterday Brand had held him and admired him. Perhaps there was nothing personal. He simply did not approve of illegitimate children. But that was not the babe’s fault.

  Maria looked up from the rocker with a vacant smile upon her thin lips and Grace thought her acerbic companion looked almost pretty.

  “Here if you want to hold him, I will give him up.”

  “Not for the world. You looked so happy just now.” Grace sat on a straight chair and took up the blanket she had been hemming. “Jilly is asleep.”

  “She is lucky to have you for an employer.”

  “May I ask you a personal question, Maria?”

  “You may ask,” she said with an enigmatic smile.

  “Are you sorry you never married and had children?”

  The rocker creaked several times before Maria answered. “No, but only because I never met the right man. If I had passed up the chance to wed, then I would have my regrets. But never have I met a man I could get on with for more than an hour.”

  “It would seem to me that a man is not essential to a woman’s happiness.”

  “Well he is essential if you mean to have children.”

  “You know what I mean. Connie and even Jilly and Janet may be better off without the men who fathered these children.”

  “Perhaps but why are you asking? Surely you mean to marry. You cannot compare yourself to these girls.”

  “I cannot help comparing myself to them. But for my money I might have believed a man and found myself in much the same position. Wealth simply allows me to be more selective.”

  “And it was worth the wait. You have Lord Morewood fairly panting after you.”

  Grace grimaced. “I am not at all sure he is the one I have been waiting for. He is just as managing and argumentative as my brother.”

  “Ah but that is half the charm of marriage, the give and take and then the making up.”

  “I had much rather he agreed with me.”

  “Oh, since you are always right?”

  “Now you are laughing at me.” She thought she heard a lessening of the pounding on the windows and went to look out at a crack of sunlight on the western horizon. “It looks like the rain might let up. I mean to do a bit of shopping for the child and call at the theater. So if you want to come with me you will have to put Ned in his cradle or find someone else to hold him.”

  “I should not be able to find more than a dozen women eager for the duty.”

  The whole way to the shops in the hackney Grace wrestled with the notion that she might not be treading the wisest course to take in unwed mothers and shelter them in her townhouse but it was the most humane course. So she was able to shrug off any future blight this might cast on her reputation. That Brand berated her for it made her take a step back and reconsider his qualifications. Perhaps he was just as stuffy and position-conscious as the others and his handsome face and their common interests had turned her head. What else? Oh yes, he could hold his own in a conversation. And now that she thought back she had enjoyed arguing with him but only about things that did not matter. Not about something as important as children.

  “Grace?”

  “What, are we at the theater?’

  “Yes. Do you mean to speak to Mr. Stone?” Maria asked as they paid the driver and went to the alley door.

  “Yes and finish that scenery if the place is not too damp for the paint to dry.”

  Grace found all her painting things just where she had left them. Since Stone was not in she donned her apron and made great strides toward filling the sky with clouds and a few dots of birds. She listened to the actors rehearsing on the forestage and paused when they spoke a particularly good line. But she rewrote a few in her own mind and wished again for some private speech with William Marlowe so that she could make her suggestions. The least Stone could do was give her a copy of Marlowe’s script. Marlowe was like Brand, very male. That was well enough but more than half his audience was women. He should try to see the world from their point of view as well.

  She was thoroughly tired of climbing up and down the ladder by the time she heard Stone’s voice admonishing the actors. She secured her paints and put her brushes to soak, then went out through the wings to find him halfway back in the pit, listening to how well the lines carried. It was a short walk through the lower gallery and the theater.

  “I need to speak to you,” she said during a pause when the actors were discussing stage directions.

  “More paint? Order anything you like.”

  “No I have plenty of paint. But I need two extra boxes for the opening night of Two Hearts. I’m holding a theater party and must have seats for my guests.”

  “Two boxes? Impossible. With a month’s warning I might get you one. But two?”

  “You always say such things, then produce what I need as though you are pulling a badger out of a hole. I want two and I do not care what they cost. And if you want this scenery done you had better find them.” She turned to leave dissatisfied with the interview as usual.

  “My dear Miss Montrose? Blackmail?”

  “Whatever will get me those extra seats,” she said over her shoulder.

  Maria came with a basket that Grace was sure contained more costumes for alterations.

  “Ready to leave?” her companion asked with an inexplicable smile on her face.

  “Yes, will you have one of the prop boys call a hack for us?” Once Maria left on her mission, Grace glared at Stone before she turned to go.

  “I saw the backdrop, Miss Montrose,” Stone said. “Excellent work.”

  “Let’s hope it satisfies Mr. Marlowe.”

  “He adores it.”

  Grace turned to regard him. “When did he see it?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me he was here? You know how I want to meet him.”

  “He was in a hurry.” Stone rose and came toward her. “How can I ever repay you two? You give more than financial support. You give of yourselves.” Stone made a grand theatrical gesture.

  “Get me an introduction to Marlowe,” Grace said through gritted teeth. “I know. Give him an invitation to my opening night party. It would be wonderful if he could come.”

  “Well, I don’t know.”

  “Surely he will be here anyway.” Grace stamped her foot in frustration.

  “He’s very shy.”

  Grace heard one of the actors delivering a scandalous line and inclined her head toward the stage. “How can he write like that and be shy? Get him to come to my party and I will buy those gold buttons you want.”

  “Well, I’ll try. I’m not promising anything.”

  “And the two extra boxes?”

  “I’ll see what I can do. It will cost you.”

  “I know, I know,” she said as she trudged toward the back of the theater.

  Maria waved from the wings and Grace was about to pick up the heavy workbasket when the boy came and took it for her. She nodded at Stone and made her way to the stage door. She would dearly have loved to hear the end of the first act but if the
y were gone from the house too long the butler fretted about their safety almost as much as her groom or her coachman. As free as she was she was still encircled by overprotective men.

  Grace went out the stage door into the alley and when the prop boy had hefted the basket into the hackney slipped him a coin. She was just about to get into the carriage when Brand rode up. The theater boy ran to hold his horse in expectation of another windfall.

  “Grace? What are you doing here?” he asked as he dismounted.

  “I had to see about some theater boxes.”

  “But you should not be using the back door. There is no telling who you may meet.”

  “That’s absurd. I know very well—I know Mr. Stone well enough to know he hires only reliable people.”

  “Still, it is no one you should be associating with,” Brand said quietly.

  Grace drew back from him, glancing at the boy. “I can make my own judgments about such things.”

  “Very well, but you were the one robbed under the portico the other night.”

  Grace opened her mouth to argue but could think of no rebuttal.

  “Grace,” Maria prompted. “We have to get home and change.”

  “That was at night. Besides, the front entrance is locked until six.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because… I tried it. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to figure out how to fit twelve guests into my theater box in case Stone cannot come up with the extra ones I need.”

  “If it’s theater boxes you need I have three at your disposal.”

  “You rented them. But why?”

  “I had thought about getting up a theater party but when I received your invitation I decided to delay my party until closing night.”

  “And how much do you want for the boxes?”

  “Considerably less than Stone, I bet. You may have them gratis. No argument?”

  “You are my guest. You should not have to pay for them. I insist that I pay for them.”

  A slow smile spread across Brand’s handsome face. “It should be interesting to see how.”

  She was preparing to demand what he meant by that when he plucked something from her hair.

  “Paint. Blue. It’s on your skirt as well.”