by Ayles, Abby
“Well you should,” she continued. “I went to a girls’ school myself. You will find that the education is vastly superior than what can be given by a governess. There are far less distractions for the children and in my opinion the teachers are far more qualified.”
“It is an interesting thought to consider. My oldest is just eight, however, and her sister five. I am not sure I would be ready to be away from them for such extended periods of time.”
“I went when I was just eight. I assure you it is most suitable for all girls preparing to make their way into society.”
Sebastian didn’t really like how she was pressing the matter. He thought perhaps her passion came from the fact that she seemed to enjoy her days in a girls’ school so much and hoped it was nothing more.
He rather hoped to move the conversation away from his children’s education no matter the reason for her passion. Any talk of them instantly brought to mind the governess he had left back in Brighton Abby.
He thought it was best to turn the conversation to Miss Marlow. He felt that it was a general rule of thumb that conversations ran much more smoothly and with little addition on his part if he got the other party speaking about themselves.
“It seems you have a great enjoyment of your time here in London for the Season.”
“Oh yes,” she said excitedly. “I insist that Father brings me with him every year since I was fifteen. Naturally I enjoy the social aspect that cannot be compensated for in our country house, but more than that I love all the things that only London has to offer.”
“And what would you consider to be your favorite offering, Miss Marlow?”
“The plays and operas by far. I do enjoy them so much. I make it a point to go at least once a week while I am here.”
Grimshaw had been to his fair share of operas. It was a great love of both his and Ann’s. When she said these words Jayden perked up to his friend as if to say, ‘See what a lovely match she is.’
It only made Grimshaw the more distant from her however. He wasn’t sure he could stand ever going to the opera now that his wife was gone. Could he bring himself to sit in the same box seat that he had so many times with his loving wife in the company of Miss Marlow?
He was beginning to feel this whole idea that his brother-in-law talked him into was a terribly awful one. It was taking only one conversation with a lady intent on marriage to realize that perhaps he just wasn’t ready to set his wife aside and think of another.
It seemed too hard to put Miss Marlow in the same headspace as the mother of his children. Strangely at that thought, however, his mind drifted back to Miss Jacobson on the blanket reading to the girls outside.
He shook the thought quickly out of his head. It had just been a picturesque moment and nothing more. It shed no light on his ability to accept another for his daughters’ new mother figure.
It was too late for him to back out of Jayden’s endeavors to see him happily remarried this night, though he was sure he wouldn’t go along again.
“What would you say is your favorite opera?” Sebastian asked Miss Marlow, unable to politely leave the conversation now.
She then went into a long telling of what operas she liked best. It was a very long list that he thought likely encompassed every one she had ever seen.
He wondered if she was doing this to show him her great love for theater. Jayden Marsh wasn’t the subtlest matchmaker. Perhaps he had prepped Miss Marlow to say things that would interest the earl.
He found the thought very vapid and distasteful. He hoped it was just his cynicism and nothing more.
As she went on, the earl struggled to keep his mind on the words she spoke. She made a point to express that she loved all operas including the ones in French and Italian which she was both fluent in.
He smiled as he listened to her drone on. It wasn’t her conversation that brought humor to his lips, but the fact that he rather felt like he was interviewing all over again as he had not so long ago in the solicitor’s office.
Naturally the setting was different and the position was not of a paid employee, but as she went on spilling out all the accomplishments she could possibly fit into such conversation, he rather felt like he was reading over a resume and list of references.
Finally the time for the meal came and he was relieved of the duty of listening to Miss Marlow’s array of skills, accomplishments, and knowledge. Unfortunately as he came to sit for dinner, he found that he was again placed near another single young miss.
This lady however, a Lady Isabella, was far younger. He would have guessed that Miss Marlow was in her early twenties. This girl couldn’t have even seen her twentieth year yet.
That didn’t stop her matronly mother at her other side from encouraging a connection between the two of them all throughout the meal.
Grimshaw didn’t really consider himself a man of great age, being thirty and two, but couldn’t bring himself to consider a partner who was closer to the age of his children than himself.
For some reason Sebastian’s mind went back to Miss Jacobson at the thought. He knew from her resume when he hired her that she was only twenty herself. This had never been a hindrance to him.
Perhaps it was the way she dressed so demurely, he mused to himself. No, he was sure that it wasn’t that. It was because she had been so mature for her age. She didn’t take her responsibility to his children lightly and that quality alone made her seem much wiser than any counterpart of the ton.
Instantly Grimshaw was angry with himself again. Could he not go ten minutes without his mind trailing back to Miss Jacobson? He reminded himself of all the reasons why he was in London at this moment.
Luckily once the meal was over, he was able to join the rest of the gentlemen while the ladies retired to the drawing room for after-meal conversation and refreshments.
Jayden was eager to hear what thoughts Grimshaw had on the night thus far.
“Well?” he asked in anticipation.
Grimshaw circled the amber liquid in his glass absentmindedly before drinking it down in one gulp.
“She seems like a nice enough lady,” he replied without any emotion for like or dislike.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say? I thought you would have found her enchanting and compatible in so many ways because…”
Jayden hesitated to end the sentence so Grimshaw did for him.
“Because she is so much like Ann.”
Jayden nodded in agreement. Though he wanted to help his brother-in-law find happiness again it still was a sore spot to speak of his deceased sister.
Grimshaw reached over for the decanter and poured himself another dram of spirits before swallowing that down too.
“I don’t know if I could handle being with someone who reminded me so much of Ann,” he said in all honesty.
“She was a good match for you, and you were for her,” Jayden said with delicacy.
“It would be wise to find someone with similarities if you hope to have the same happiness again,” Jayden finished.
“And what if I don’t want to? What if I would rather just stay as I am than to dilute her memory that way?”
“It would be no dilution to give her children a mother who would love them just as she would. Certainly a lady with similar qualities would be the best choice for that.”
Grimshaw reached over and gave Jayden a comforting pat. He was thankful for his advice and help but in all honesty wondered if it was still just too soon for him.
“It is a matter I will think on,” Grimshaw said.
“I hope you do. Also,” Jayden said slightly hesitantly, “it may not hurt terribly to, just for now mind you, keep up the relationship between you two. Tomorrow is a public ball. I know that Miss Marlow will be there. It would be a chance to see her in a different setting. Perhaps you will find things more pleasing to you then.”
Grimshaw hesitated at Jayden’s words.
“And I may have already said you plan to atten
d,” Jayden added quickly and under his breath before hiding his face behind his own glass.
Grimshaw’s brows furrowed in disappointment. Well now he would have no choice but to go. If he did otherwise it might send a message that would offend the lady.
“You scoundrel,” Grimshaw said but only half-heartedly.
He couldn’t be mad at Jayden for doing what he thought was right for a friend, no matter how wrong he was to that fact.
“Scoundrel I may be, but perhaps you will thank me for it one day,” Jayden said in return.
“Yes, perhaps. Or perhaps I’ll take you for a few rounds inside the boxing ring as compensation for my pain and suffering,” Grimshaw added with a smirk.
Chapter Seventeen
“My dear, I am sure there is something greatly troubling you,” Grannie said.
Hannah was lost in thought, looking out Joanna McCarthy’s cottage window at the leaves beginning to turn and fall.
She felt very much like those leaves in that moment. She was slowly wilting, losing all strength to hold on much longer.
It had been two months since the Earl of Grimshaw left for London. A sullen cloud had fallen on Brighton Abby with his absence. Even the girls didn’t have the same merry laugh.
Every night since his departure Hannah was woken with the presence outside her door. After the first night she kept it constantly locked and rarely ventured outside her room if she wasn’t teaching the girls.
It made her feel a ghost of her former self. No longer did she enjoy reading in the garden or even just quiet walks around the house for both were far too dangerous. Shut up in her room for all her free time she rather felt like a caged animal.
Her only solace was in their visits to Joanna McCarthy. In her small cottage, Hannah could finally breathe that sigh of relief and let the tension that was a constant prickle on her spine relax.
Though at first Mr. Matthew McCarthy’s visits had become more regular, as Hannah wilted so had he vanished. It only proved to her that his motives were not to care for his aged mother.
When she showed little interest, and frankly limited sociability with so many sleepless nights, he had lost interest in her and turned his attentions elsewhere.
She was not hurt by his inattention, as she had no amiable feelings toward him in the first place. There was also the matter of the earl. He certainly wouldn’t believe that she was not encouraging him. No doubt he would count it her fault just as she was sure he would see Mr. Poole’s aggressive behavior her doing as well.
“I’m sorry, Grannie,” Hannah said, tearing her eyes from the window after watching another leaf give up and fall to the ground.
“I haven’t slept well much in the last few months.”
“Why ever not, child?” Grannie asked with concern.
“It’s hard to say.”
“Hard to put the reason into words, or hard to make the words come out of ye mouth?” she asked.
Hannah looked down shamefully at her hands. She certainly could say the words, it was no problem finding ones to explain her troubles. It was the fear that accompanied them that she couldn’t allow to escape.
Keeping her night terror to herself was the only wall holding back the dam of fear. It was her last thing she could hold on to.
“My little ladies,” Grannie said turning to the girls, “I believe the tabby cat out in the goat shed had her kittens. Would you two be dears for me and go and check on the little angels?”
Both girls lit up at the opportunity to see little kittens and hurried out the door. Though the reasoning was truth enough, Joanna was wise enough to know that the only way Hannah could speak on her troubles would be in confidence.
They sat in the room for a few beats of silence so that the confidentiality could breathe a bit between them.
“Does it have anything to do with those marks on your neck a few months back?” Grannie asked finally.
Hannah looked to the old woman in surprise. No one else had noticed the bruises that had formed on Hannah’s neck after Mr. Poole’s attack in the garden. She had kept her cap low and her fichu high to make sure of that.
Unfortunately she had forgotten how Joanna McCarthy’s faculties had only seemed to sharpen in her old age.
“Was it the earl then?” she inquired again when Hannah didn’t answer.
“Oh no. I know he seems quite large and overbearing, but I promise he is an honorable man. Perhaps a bit overbearing and controlling, but he does even these things from his heart.”
“I would wager you didn’t do it to ye’self though. How about you tell Grannie the truth and together we can find a way through it.”
Hannah could already feel the tears welling in her eyes. It didn’t matter if she wanted to keep it all in, hold it all back, the dam was breaking and there was no stopping it.
Hannah crumpled into a fit of tears and Grannie came quickly to her side, wrapping a comforting arm around her.
“It has just been so awful,” Hannah choked between sobs after she had spilled the whole story out to Joanna from the very first encounter with the baron to the nightly visits from Mr. Poole.
“What horrible fiends they both are!” Grannie said with a bitter tone to her words. “You must go to the earl at once,” she added.
“I could never. It would be my word against Mr. Poole. With the past that I have, and Mr. Poole with my stolen lock of hair, there would be no way Lord Grimshaw would believe me.”
“He would believe you because your words are the truth. He would only need look into your beautiful blue eyes to see that.”
“I am not so sure as you are. He is already conditioned to think that I have motives to seek a different circumstance through this position. It would be easier for him to follow Mr. Poole’s conclusions than my own.”
“All because of that Miss Watts,” Grannie said, shaking her head. “She was a nice girl and she fell in love. I saw it unfold every Sunday service. When you fall in love it isn’t something you choose and it can’t be helped,” Grannie added with wisdom.
“Lord Grimshaw of all people should know that. It was easy to see how much he loved and cared for his lady despite the fact that they were chosen for each other by their parents.”
Hannah was surprised to hear this news. She had learned so little about the late Lady Grimshaw. Hannah had known well that the earl cared and still mourned for her by his actions, but would have never guessed that their marriage had started with any less affection, let alone an arranged marriage.
“If you can’t talk to the earl about it though,” Grannie continued, “that doesn’t mean you need to go on living like this any longer.”
“I could never leave,” Hannah retorted quickly. “As horrible as that man is, I couldn’t leave the girls. They would be so distraught.”
“I don’t want you to leave either, dear,” Grannie said, patting a wrinkled hand on Hannah’s lap.
“But something must be done. If you cannot seek protection from the earl then you must find a way to protect yer’self.”
“What do you mean?” Hannah sniffed.
“Men like that,” Grannie said with a wrinkle to her already shrivelled face, “they do what they want because they think they have the power. You stand up to him, you fight back, and you take that power away.”
“Fight back? How could I? He is far stronger than I.”
“It is not the strength ye be needing. It is just the surprise. You catch him off guard and fight before he even has the chance to get you. I promise you one time of that and he won’t be lurking outside your door any longer.”
Hannah thought these words over as she headed home that evening with the girls. They were both so excited by the litter of kittens that neither young lady noticed that Hannah was lost in her own thoughts while they chatted away.
What was most exciting to the girls was that Grannie had promised each one a kitten to take home when they were old enough to leave their mother.
It was just one more wor
ry that Hannah had to file away in the back of her mind. Already the girls anticipated the day their father would come home.
It wasn’t just to see him again, but also because each girl had a framed watercolor portrait waiting to show him.
Hannah was proud of their work but also terrified of the earl’s wrath when he realized what they had been doing all these months.
She hoped against all odds that he would return home in a much better attitude towards her than the one he had left with.
She desperately hoped he would not take away their outings to Joanna’s cottage. She was sure that it did the girls just as much good to spend time with the aged lady as it did Grannie.
“Rebecca, you cannot carry a cat around with you everywhere you go,” Caroline was scolding her younger sister’s aspirations. “If you take it in the school room it would surely eat Mr. Whiskers.”
“Not my cat. She will love Mr. Whiskers,” Rebecca retorted.
“No cat will ever like a mouse,” Caroline argued with the superiority of one older in age and knowledge.
“Miss Jacobson, is that true? Will my cat hate Mr. Whiskers no matter what?” Rebecca asked.
“I’m not entirely sure,” Hannah said with a huff. She was feeling so entirely drained from the lack of sleep and the release of emotions she had had this afternoon.
“I expect it is much like asking a cheetah to change his spots. If you are born one way, I don’t see how you could ever behave contrary to that,” Hannah continued.
Caroline stuck her head out a little prouder that the authority had agreed with her on the matter, while Rebecca resolved to pouting.
“My kitten will be different,” Rebecca sulked under her breath. “She will love everything and everyone and sleep on my bed and follow me around everywhere I go.”
“If that is what you are hoping for,” Hannah said with a little smirk at the child’s musing, “I expect we better look for a litter of puppies instead of kittens.”
Chapter Eighteen
Hannah spent the night wondering if she would have the courage to follow through on Grannie’s suggestion.