Gaelen Foley - [Inferno Club 06]

by My Notorious Gentleman

“No,” Trevor said fondly. “We didn’t get much work done, I admit. But they’re very entertaining.”

  “Aren’t they, though?”

  The twins were hopping in place with excitement.

  “Hm, would you say that they deserve a biscuit?” Grace inquired.

  “Mmm,” he debated.

  “Please, please!”

  He chuckled. “They were grand. They can have it.”

  “I am so pleased to hear it! Here you are, boys. One for you, and one for you.” She gave each child his treat, then she offered one to Trevor while, a short distance away, Miss Windlesham pulled her carriage to a halt.

  Trevor held Grace’s gaze in warm amusement. “I confess I have heard rave reports about your baking, Miss Kenwood. Don’t mind if I do.” He accepted the biscuit more from curiosity than hunger, but when he bit into it, he was instantly addicted.

  “Hullo!” Calpurnia cried brightly as she came striding over to where the rest of them stood.

  Grace offered her a biscuit, too, but she waved it off. “I have to watch my figure.” She smiled proudly at Trevor, but he refused to take the bait and supply the expected compliment.

  It was Laura all over again.

  “Miss Windlesham,” he greeted her with cordiality, “this is a surprise.”

  She flashed her dimples and slipped her arm through the crook of Grace’s elbow. “I thought I’d follow Miss Kenwood over to see you! We’re on our way to visit the poor, don’t you know.”

  “But first,” Grace interrupted, “we have to take these two rascals home. We really should be going. Come along, boys.”

  “Wait, I haven’t paid them.”

  “Not the full sum, if they didn’t complete their work,” she reminded him as he reached into his vest pocket for a few coins.

  “That was my fault. We kept finding interesting things among the clutter—in fact, that reminds me. I came across some items that I think the boys’ mother might be able to use for the children.”

  “Oh?”

  He nodded. “There are a few pieces of sturdy children’s furniture and the like. It all seems to be in good repair. If she can use it, I’d be glad.”

  “Are you sure you can spare them?”

  “I have no use for them,” he said with a shrug. “She’s welcome to have them, and if she can’t use them, she can always break them up for firewood. If you want to wait here, I’ll go and get them.”

  “Thank you!”

  He proceeded to carry the children’s furniture out of the house. There was a crib and a high chair, plus two small desks. It was old, but still good quality.

  “I’m guessing Colonel Avery had his servants move these things down from the old nursery once the roof over that part of the house started going bad,” Trevor told her when he had carried out the last piece.

  “Are you sure you won’t need these things?” she asked. “You don’t have children now, but you might in the future.”

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. These lads could use these items now. Especially the desks,” he added, giving the wayward pair an arch look.

  Then he loaded it all into the back of her cart, noting as he did so the rows of baskets of bread and lidded crocks of soup, the repaired old clothes and shoes, and folded blankets that she had assembled for the poor of the parish. Trevor gazed a moment longer at all the supplies she had brought. Then turned to her abruptly.

  “Maybe I had better come with you.”

  “It’s all right, I can manage—”

  “No, do!” Calpurnia interrupted. “How perfectly gallant! As you say, my lord, it’s good-quality furniture. Much too heavy for ladies to carry! It would be ever so nice if you could come along and bring the heavy things in for Mrs. Nelcott.”

  “Calpurnia, he’s got work to do. I’m sure we can manage by ourselves,” Grace said, but Trevor had already made up his mind.

  “It can wait. I’d like to meet Mrs. Nelcott anyway,” he said. “Tell her what an excellent job her sons did today.”

  Grace glanced at him in grateful surprise. “Well, it would be a rare thing for her to hear compliments about them. Usually it’s people complaining of their mischief. Honestly, I think it would do her good to hear it.”

  “Then let’s go,” he said amiably, and with that he lifted each of the twins up into the back of Grace’s cart.

  The boys picked their way past the new desks and chairs and the sturdy crib for the baby, each finding a spot to sit.

  “Don’t you two raid my baskets,” Grace warned. “You can have more biscuits, but the bread is for other people.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Would you like me to drive?” Trevor offered when Grace turned back to him.

  She gave him a quizzical look. “No. Why?”

  He looked at her in trepidation.

  Miss Windlesham let out a pert laugh. “Oh, Grace, don’t you know gentlemen always prefer to take the reins? Ride with me, my lord. I don’t mind if you drive!”

  “Er, I’m afraid that would not be proper, Miss Windlesham. I wouldn’t want people to talk. I’d better stay in the cart so I, er, can chaperone the boys.”

  “Oh. Of course. I suppose you’re right. How considerate of you to think of my reputation! Very well, then! I’ll see you all there!” She went skipping back to her pony gig and bounded up to take the reins again.

  Trevor and Grace exchanged a glance as they, too, settled into their seats.

  “Should I be worried?” he asked discreetly.

  “Most definitely,” she answered in amusement.

  The cart lurched into motion. Trevor glanced back to make sure the boys and all the supplies Grace had prepared were secure. He caught Denny starting to reach into one of the bread baskets, but the boy froze when he saw Trevor’s stare and drew his empty hand back guiltily onto his lap.

  Calpurnia came from behind and drove past them like a Corinthian, waving as she urged her pony faster.

  “Race you!”

  Trevor shook his head at the girl with a rueful smile, but after Calpurnia had pulled ahead of them, laughing, Grace looked askance at him.

  “You see? She may win you over yet. Most gentlemen find her irresistible.”

  “Miss Kenwood, for shame,” he chided softly as he looked into her eyes, remembering their kiss.

  Grace blushed a little, and he was pleased.

  She looked away self-consciously, keeping her gaze fixed on the dusty road ahead. “Unfortunately, if you fail to fall in love with Miss Windlesham, I’m going to be the villainess in her mother’s eyes.”

  “You? Whatever for? You have no control over who I fall in love with. On second thought,” he countered, “maybe you do.”

  She cast him a wide-eyed glance, but could not seem to come up with any answer.

  And you think Callie’s irresistible? he mused, laughing softly when she clapped the reins over the horses’ backs, as if his nearness made her long to arrive at their destination.

  Trevor relished being with her, but when he glanced back to check on their passengers, both boys wore knowing grins on their grubby little faces.

  Egads, had those two curious imps been listening the whole time and watching his attempts to flirt with their teacher?

  Trevor glowered at the pair of wee spies, lest they breathe a word to Miss Grace about their conversation earlier. Humph.

  Marry her, indeed.

  Chapter 17

  The Nelcott family cottage was in a sufficient state of disrepair as to alarm Trevor about the welfare of the children who dwelled therein. It was a humble affair of wattle and daub, surrounded by a ramshackle fence and a small yard overgrown with weeds.

  As Grace slowed her cart before the waist-high front gate, Trevor spotted a little face peering out the dust-caked window. He recogni
zed the wee girl Bitsy, who had been with Grace on the afternoon that he had bought the Grange.

  Then, before the cart had scarcely stopped, the twins were already leaping off the back, racing to the gate.

  “Mama! We’re back! Lord Trevor’s come, and Miss Grace, too, and Miss Windlesham!”

  The cottage door opened and a weary-looking country woman, thin and haggard, stepped into the doorway with a baby on her hip. It seemed to take all of her energy to summon up a smile.

  The boys barreled into the yard, one holding the gate open so the furniture could be brought in, while the other answered the greeting of the family dog, a floppy, oversized retriever.

  Trevor wondered how they kept it fed.

  When Calpurnia had joined them after tying her pony to the fence, Grace presented Trevor to Mrs. Nelcott. He bowed to the woman, but the air of depression that hung over their humble home seemed almost contagious. He could feel his own spirit sinking in the heaviness that surrounded the widow.

  Then Bitsy came running out to show him her little corncob doll, but she was struck shy again a few feet away from him and stopped abruptly.

  She hugged her doll and hung back, staring at him.

  Trevor chuckled in amusement while Grace explained to the children’s mother about the furniture from the old Grange nursery.

  “Oh, I’m sure we could never accept—”

  “Nonsense, it’s perfect!” Grace said cheerfully.

  “Please do take it, Mrs. Nelcott, if you would,” Trevor spoke up. “You’d be doing me a favor since I have nowhere to put it now. It seems awfully good quality. I’d be pleased if the boys and your little ones could use it.

  “Your sons did very well today,” he added. “These boys are not afraid of work. If you could’ve seen them, I’m sure you’d have been proud.”

  She stared at him in shock. “Really?”

  The twins flocked proudly to their mother, one on each side, hanging on her. “Look, Mama!” they said, showing her their coins. “We carried junk from one room into the other! It was fun!”

  “Yes, and it was really hard work!”

  “Well, it wasn’t too hard, ’cause we got strong muscles.”

  “I didn’t say it was too hard!”

  “Enough,” their mother chided. “Sir, I hope they weren’t any trouble?”

  “Not at all. They were very helpful.”

  “Will you be needing them again tomorrow? Shall I send them over?”

  “Actually, no, but thank you. Tomorrow I have a large delivery coming—building supplies for repairing the Grange. I have some men coming out to help me, and I expect we’ll be spending most of the day unloading the canal boats. I expect it will be a bit too dangerous for two small boys, but they’re welcome to come and watch.”

  “Oh, can we, Mama?”

  “Can we watch them work the crane?”

  “What’s a crane?” Bitsy asked.

  “A machine that lets you pick up heavy things,” Denny informed her.

  “Speaking of heavy things, I’ll bring in the furniture,” Trevor said.

  “And I will get the soup,” Grace chimed in, following him toward the door.

  “Miss Kenwood, you shouldn’t have!” Mrs. Nelcott protested.

  “Oh, I misjudged my quantities again and ended up making far more than Papa and I could possibly eat ourselves, so I brought you some. It smelled delicious while it was cooking. You at least have to try it.”

  “You are too kind.”

  “Not at all! It’s my pleasure; besides, you’ve got your hands full with the baby. How’s she been? Hullo, darling!” Grace greeted the baby, who babbled and flapped her arms in excitement to see her.

  Cooing over the tot, Grace put her hands out to see if the baby would come to her. Trevor smiled as the tot reached for her. Grace lifted the baby out of her mother’s arms and cuddled her. “Ah, you are getting so big so fast!”

  “How old is the child?” Trevor asked.

  “Eighteen months,” Mrs. Nelcott answered with the first sign of life in her eyes.

  “This is Miss Mary Nelcott,” Grace introduced her, giving her downy head a kiss.

  “A fine child,” Trevor complimented the mother.

  “Thank you, sir.” The widow let out a sigh. “She’s already startin’ to toddle about the place, makin’ mischief like the others.”

  “Mrs. Nelcott has the loveliest children in Thistleton,” Grace declared. “But you’d better not tell any of our other neighbors I said so.”

  Color was finally started to come into Mrs. Nelcott’s pallid face.

  “Miss Windlesham, would you mind bringing in the soup for me?” Grace addressed her young friend. “It’s the one in the blue crock, and don’t forget the bread.”

  The debutante nodded to Grace, looking grateful to be given a task. She had been mysteriously silent so far, standing out of the way. Clearly, the presence of the peasant woman’s suffering made her uncomfortable.

  Then she followed Trevor out of the cottage and back to Grace’s wagon.

  “Sad, isn’t it?” Callie whispered to him as he handed her the blue crock of soup and the bread basket next to it.

  He nodded, then started lifting the various pieces of furniture off the back of the cart.

  As Callie brought the food into the cottage, she called to the twins to hold the gate for him. Trevor still wasn’t entirely sure which boy it was who came out in answer to the summons.

  “Which one are you?” he mumbled as he carried three small chairs through the gate.

  “I’m not tellin’!” the twin answered merrily.

  “Hmmph.”

  Grace held the baby so Mrs. Nelcott could eat some of the soup. Callie helped dole it out into bowls for the three other children, while Trevor took a wet cloth and cleaned up the furniture that he had brought.

  The child-sized chairs were a particular delight to Bitsy, and when Grace carefully set Mary in the high chair, it was the perfect size for the tot, at least for now.

  Their visit lasted another half an hour, and while they seemed to have cheered up Mrs. Nelcott considerably by the time they left, Trevor felt as though he and Grace and Callie had all absorbed a little of her depression somehow in exchange. Even Grace showed signs of looking a little peaked and pale when they finally took their leave.

  “What’s next?” he asked the ladies as they returned to the carriages.

  Grace smiled at him, but her cheerfulness seemed a little forced. “I have more visits to make.”

  “I’m exhausted,” Callie moaned.

  Trevor turned to Grace and searched her blue eyes. “Perhaps I should come with you.”

  “Oh, not at all! We can manage perfectly well from here.”

  “Don’t you want me to come?”

  “Yes, do!” Callie cried.

  “He has a lot to do. My lord, you’ve already been more than helpful.”

  “Yes, but sometimes there are little jobs the poor need us to do for them that we’re hardly strong enough to accomplish!” Callie interjected.

  Trevor wasn’t sure if Grace was trying to get rid of him. “I don’t want to get in the way, but I really think I should come with you.”

  “Why?”

  He frowned. Something about the Nelcott woman haunted him. “Colonel Avery got her husband killed, didn’t he? And now I have his house. I . . . I just feel I ought to do something.”

  “It’s not like you’re responsible for his actions.”

  “No.” He couldn’t explain it, but a foreboding feeling had taken hold. “Will you permit me to escort you? I’d like to come.”

  Grace looked surprised but pleased. “Of course, if you wish. We’d be glad to have you along. Then I could introduce you around to everyone. Most of Thistleton is still dying to meet you. There a
re lots of other neighbors who weren’t at the Windleshams’ dinner party,” she added with a rueful twinkle in her eyes.

  He took her meaning at once. Lady Windlesham was hardly the sort to invite the poor into her splendid home.

  “Good! Then let us be under way,” he said.

  Callie grabbed hold of his arm. “Hurrah! I’ll come in your carriage, Grace. I’m sure Mrs. Nelcott won’t mind if I leave my pony here. I’ve tied her in the shade, and we’ll just be a couple of hours, right?”

  Grace nodded, and Trevor realized it would be more respectable to travel as three rather than two—Callie in her carriage, and him alone with Grace in the other.

  They all climbed in, Trevor handing the ladies up onto the driver’s seat.

  “Where are you going to sit, my lord?” Callie asked in concern.

  “In the back.”

  “Grace, shouldn’t you let him drive? He’s the man.”

  “He doesn’t know where he’s going,” she replied.

  “I’m quite comfortable, Miss Windlesham,” Trevor assured her as he vaulted into the back and casually took a seat on the wooden ledge behind the driver’s box. Back-to-back with the ladies, all he had to do was turn a little to converse with them.

  Grace clucked to the horses, and her cart rumbled off.

  Callie turned to beam at him as they headed for town. “We’ll give you a tour of the village along the way!” Her usual vivacity was back after the draining visit with Mrs. Nelcott. Indeed, she could hardly seem to contain herself. “I’ll point out all the important sights.”

  “Are there any?”

  “I beg your pardon!” Grace retorted, shooting him a playful scowl over her shoulder.

  He flashed a teasing grin. “Please, I am most eager to learn all about Thimbleton, and meet all my fellow Thimbletonians.”

  “Thimbleton?” the ladies cried, but they laughed despite their indignation.

  As Grace drove through the village, with Callie gaily pointing out various points of interest to Lord Trevor, she had no doubt that everyone who saw them pass assumed that she was merely playing chaperone, and that their handsome new neighbor was paying court to Miss Windlesham.

  She did not know why, but this thought put her in an uncharacteristically sour mood.