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Because of You

Page 21

by Cathy Maxwell


  Terrance dug in his heels. “And what are you going to do with us?”

  “You’ll find out when you get there. But I promise you this, it will be better than how you are living now.”

  Terrance considered his words, eyeing Yale carefully. Then he squared his painfully thin shoulders. “Alice and I will go with you, but if I find out you are playing tricks, sir, on my mother’s grave, I will not forgive it!”

  Yale almost smiled at the oath, but realized that this young boy had more bottom than most men he knew. “Aye, I will answer to you,” Yale assured him.

  Terrance began walking and Yale followed. They moved back the way they had come and Yale shuddered to think of a girl of eight alone in this filth and poverty.

  Samantha woke the next morning, heavy-lidded and tired. The day was overcast with high lead-gray clouds. It looked as if it might rain. She wondered what time it was.

  Sitting up in Yale’s bed, she groggily half-expected to see him sleeping on the floor or sprawled in the chair. But he was neither. And she was naked.

  Her nakedness sparked shameful memories of the night before. He had walked out. He’d left her.

  She hated the knot forming in her stomach. Hated caring when he didn’t. Hated the thought of having to answer to Wayland for his brother’s leaving.

  She climbed out of the bed and hurried over to where her nightdress lay in a heap on the floor. She pulled it over her head as quickly as she could.

  Then she heard it…snoring. It was a light sound and came from beyond the bedroom. Cautiously she opened the door to the sitting room.

  Everything in there was just as it had been the night before—except that the door of her bedroom was slightly open. She couldn’t remember if she had closed it or not.

  Skittish, she rang for the maid. Something was not right…but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  Now knowing that help would be on the way, she bravely tiptoed over to the door of her room and pushed it open. A heartbeat later she wanted to laugh at herself in relief.

  Yale slept flat on his back, sprawled in the middle of her bed on top of the sheets. The bedspread was in a pile on the floor at the foot of the bed. He’d taken off his coat, but still wore his shirt and breeches. His feet were bare.

  Funny, he had appealing bare feet. Almost as appealing as the growth of beard that covered his lean jaw, and the tousled look of his hair. In spite of his broad shoulders, he appeared almost boyish.

  He snored with the pleasure of uncomplicated sleep.

  As if drawn to him by a magnet, she tiptoed over to the side of the bed and pushed his hair back from his forehead. It felt good to touch him.

  For a second, she toyed with the idea of waking him and then changed her mind. She liked watching him this way.

  And all too soon, he would wake and they would have to discuss issues and problems Samantha would rather not address.

  At that moment, there was a light rap on the hallway door. Emily was here.

  Samantha hurried to open the door, raising her finger to her lips to warn Emily to be quiet. The maid took one look at Samantha’s husband stretched out on the bed and covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

  Samantha motioned with her head for Emily to go into the sitting room. She felt nervous. Servants were notorious gossips, and it made her uncomfortable that they would know such intimate details as in which bed her husband had spent the night.

  Emily nodded that she understood, but signaled that she needed to get Samantha’s dress. She silently crossed over to the wardrobe and looked in askance for which dress Samantha wanted her to bring.

  Samantha nodded toward her wedding dress. Wearing it would give her confidence to face whatever happened this day.

  Samantha picked up her hairbrush and started to leave the room first. Emily hurried to follow, almost tripping over the bedspread on the floor. She looked down and startled Samantha by screaming.

  “What is the matter?” Samantha asked.

  Emily dropped the dress. “There’s somebody under that bedspread, my lady.” She shied away toward the door even as Yale opened an eye.

  “What was that confounded racket?” he asked, with very little humor.

  “There is someone under there!” Emily declared. The “someone” sat up under the bedspread and she screamed again before running out into the hall, shouting for help.

  “Why is she going on that way?” Yale asked, coming up on his elbows.

  Samantha still didn’t think he was entirely awake. She gripped her hairbrush and pulled the bedspread off the “someone.”

  Or “someones.”

  Two grubby children huddled together, wide-eyed and frightened, at the foot of the bed.

  Samantha relaxed her militant stance. She looked at Yale, who was scratching his beard. “I found them,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  At that moment, Wayland, Marion, a footman, and the frightened Emily charged back into the room. Everyone but she and Yale were dressed and ready for the day.

  “What is going on here?” Wayland commanded.

  “There!” Emily said, pointing at the footboard. “Next to that bedspread. I saw something move.”

  Wayland came around the bed and looked at her in confusion. “They’re children.” He turned to Samantha and then to his brother. “What are children doing here?”

  “They are my guests,” Yale announced. He got off the bed and stretched. “In fact, Sam, I brought the girl to you but didn’t have the heart to wake you up last night. She’s ill. Can you have a look at her and heal her?”

  “Sick?” Wayland echoed. “Sick with what?”

  “Well, yes, of course I can try,” Samantha said, slightly disconcerted by the swift change of events.

  Wayland stepped forward. “Absolutely not! You can’t mean to let those filthy children stay here in this house—especially sick children. Have you gone mad? They are a danger to my sons.”

  “I could not leave them on the street,” Yale said.

  “Oh, but Yale—” Marion started, and then broke off. She motioned to Emily. “Go and make sure Nurse doesn’t let the boys out of the nursery. Hurry, now!”

  The maid ran to do her bidding while Wayland exploded in anger.

  “I can’t believe you did this, Yale. Have you no common sense? And just when I believed you had changed, you pull a trick like this! Where in the name of all that is holy did you find them?”

  Yale leaned against the bedpost, the set of his chin stubborn. “I caught the lad picking my pocket.”

  “Pickpockets!” Wayland’s face flushed with outrage. His mouth opened and closed as if words had failed him. He whirled on the footman. “Bates, throw this riffraff out!”

  The younger child, the girl, gave a soft cry of distress. The boy put his arms around her.

  But as the footman moved forward, Yale stepped protectively in front of the children. “You will not touch them.”

  Chapter 14

  Bates stopped and glanced with uncertainty at the duke. Samantha held her breath.

  “They are my guests,” Yale said to his brother. “If they can’t stay, then I will leave with them.”

  “Oh, God,” Wayland swore. He motioned Bates out of the room. The moment the door closed, he exploded. “I thought you’d changed! I was beginning to believe you had more sense than all this. Worse, you are putting me in an untenable position. I cannot have—” he waved his hands at the two grubby children as if words failed him, “people like them under my roof. It’s unheard of.”

  “Wayland, stop being so dramatic,” Yale snapped. “They’re children. Nothing more, nothing less. They have no parents or home. You’d be grubby, too, if you’d been forced to live the life they have.”

  “You are the one who doesn’t understand. Don’t you remember anything that happened years ago? Society has all but forgotten who you are and the details of your disgrace—but not for long, once they catch wind of this. What you are doing is unheard o
f.”

  “What rot,” Yale said. “I’m my own man. I’ll do what I wish. If I choose to nursemaid a multitude of children, I will.”

  “Yes? Well, what of Samantha? No one does this sort of thing. You will draw attention to yourself. It will remind people of the scandal.”

  “Oh, yes, what a frightening black sheep I must be. Taking in sick children. What will I do next?” Yale mocked his brother.

  “Damn you, Yale, you understand exactly what I mean.”

  “I do, brother. You mean that I’m welcome as long as I obey your rules. You are the twin of our father.”

  “Yes? Well, now I’m beginning to understand a little of his side of the story!”

  Samantha stepped between the two men. “Please, both of you. If you wish to argue, take it to another room. These children are innocents and you are frightening them.”

  At her words, the men looked down at the children. The girl sobbed in earnest. Samantha dropped to her knees and placed a hand on the girl’s head. She had a slight fever and her chest was congested, but that was all. Still, Yale had been right to bring the child in from the cold. A small fever could rapidly develop into something life threatening.

  Marion squeezed her husband’s arm. “Wayland, perhaps you are overreacting a small bit.”

  He frowned his answer at his wife, then turned abruptly and stomped to the door. “Keep your brats away from me and my children. As soon as they are well enough, I want them out of this house.” He placed a hand on the door handle. “Oh, yes, Marion and I have decided the best way to reintroduce the two of you into society is to start with a small dinner for only the members of the family this evening. She is having the invitations sent out. Next week we’ll stage a ball in your honor.”

  “Killing the fatted calf?” Yale murmured.

  Wayland’s eyes narrowed. “I advise you to pay a visit to your tailor.”

  Yale bowed, the gesture polite—and mocking. “I do not want a ball. As for this evening, you may introduce Samantha. My family and Society turned their backs on me years ago and I’ll be damned if I perform in front of any of them like a trained bear.”

  Wayland jerked open the handle of the door. “Defiant to the end, aren’t you? Come, Marion.” Without another word, he left the room.

  However, Marion lingered behind.

  “I will order beds made available for the children in the servants’ quarters. Samantha, tell Fenley what you need in the way of effecting a cure for this girl and he will see your wishes are carried out. Oh, yes,” she said, pausing in the doorway. “I have asked the dressmaker to visit this afternoon. If she doesn’t have anything suitable for this evening, then perhaps we can find something from my closet that you may wear.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Samantha said, the sentiment heartfelt.

  Marion smiled and then glanced up at Yale. “He really is glad to have you home.” She left the room.

  Yale and Samantha were left alone with two very frightened children. The girl was shivering.

  “Come now,” Samantha said in a soothing voice. “Everything will be fine. What is your name?”

  “Her name is Alice,” the boy answered.

  “And this is her brother, Terrance,” Yale said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He seemed remarkably unconcerned after having had such a serious argument with his brother.

  “Well, Alice,” Samantha said, “there is no reason to be afraid. The duke and duchess are going to see that you have plenty of food and a warm bed.” She looked at Terrance. “Did you really attempt to pick my lord’s pocket?” He seemed so young for a criminal act.

  “It was the only way he could feed his sister,” Yale said, defending the boy.

  But someone had taught Terrance pride. He answered Samantha honestly. “Yes, my lady, I did.”

  “And you know what you did was wrong?” She ignored Yale’s muttered “Jesus.” She’d talk to him about using the Lord’s name in vain later.

  “Yes, my lady, I did, and I won’t do it again. Unless…”

  “Unless what?” Samantha asked.

  “Unless I have to feed my sister.”

  Samantha placed a hand against the boy’s cheek. “I understand. Now, let us see what we can do to make her well.” She came to her feet and crossed to where her medicinal basket set next to the heavy wardrobe. Digging into it, she pulled out the cloth bag of feverfew and the makings of a poultice for the girl’s chest.

  She rang for Fenley, who arrived promptly. “Fenley, this is Terrance and his sister Alice. Children, this is Mr. Fenley. He will take the two of you to good, clean beds and see that a tea is made of this herb. Alice must drink all of it. After I have dressed, I will prepare a poultice for her chest. Terrance, it will be your responsibility to see that Alice does as I ask.”

  “I will, my lady,” he vowed earnestly.

  Samantha smiled in approval before saying, “Fenley, these children are both frightfully dirty. I’m a firm believer in cleanliness. Please bathe them.”

  The children gasped in surprise.

  “I am not going to bathe,” Terrance said stoutly.

  “You will if you stay here,” Yale answered.

  “Then I do not have a choice,” the boy said morosely. “I can’t leave without my sister.” He looked so miserable, Samantha couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Go with Fenley,” she told him.

  “I’ll take the little one,” Yale volunteered gallantly, and lifted Alice up into his arms.

  As Samantha watched them leave, she realized Terrance and his sister trusted Yale implicitly—and he had not let them down. He would have left the house rather than bend to his brother’s suggestion of throwing the children back into the street.

  Her wedding gown still hung on a peg. She started to dress.

  She was brushing her hair when Yale pushed open the door of her room leading to the sitting room. He leaned against the door frame.

  He crossed his arms. “So, do you agree with my brother that I’m mad to have brought these children here?”

  Samantha paused, the brush poised in the air. She lowered it before asking, “Does it matter what I think?”

  He made an irritated sound. “Yes, of course.”

  She answered honestly. “The girl truly is sick. She needed shelter. However, it is Wayland’s home, and he is thinking of his own children. He doesn’t know what disease Alice suffered from, and all diseases spread so quickly. I lost the Ryman baby to what I’d thought was a simple cold in less time than it took to bring him into this world. You may have jeopardized your nephews’ lives. Furthermore, telling Wayland that the lad was a pickpocket was not the way to make him feel charitable toward the child.” She drew a deep breath for courage and said, “But I think you knew that when you said it.”

  Yale’s eyes blazed with anger. “I didn’t give him one thought.” He shoved away from the door. “I should have known better. You’re like my family. All of them put the worst interpretation on anything I do.” He left the room.

  Samantha stared after him. Where had such a hot-headed outburst come from?

  It dawned on her that since they’d left Sproule, he’d been playing little games with her, and suddenly she’d had enough. She wasn’t one to hold back her opinion when asked—and if he didn’t like it, he shouldn’t bother asking. She marched out into the sitting room and walked straight to his bedroom door.

  She didn’t bother to knock because he probably wouldn’t answer if she did. No, she just barged right in and caught him half-naked, his shirt in his hands. The valet was busy pouring water into a basin. Samantha’s arrival so startled him, he overflowed the basin.

  He hurried to wipe up the mess, but Samantha had no patience. “Out,” she ordered.

  The man scurried out of the room.

  Yale blinked in surprise. “Samantha?”

  “Yes, it is I,” she answered tightly. “And I have a few things I want to say to you.”

  He started to open his mouth, but s
he held up her hand to stave him off.

  “I have just spent the morning entertaining everyone in the house in my nightdress. I have found myself placed in the unenviable position of being between two brothers who can’t seem to sit and talk civilly for five minutes and iron out their differences—”

  “It’s more than that. We have years of differences!”

  “I do not care,” she responded, effectively shutting him up. “But the next time you ask my opinion, you will stay and listen to what I have to say, or don’t bother to ask it at all. Am I clear?”

  “Sam—”

  “Next!” It felt good to argue with him, to push aside her uneasy emotions. “I think your brother is a bit overbearing, but I also I believe you bait him. Why did you bring those children here?”

  “Because they were sick.”

  “And perhaps because you knew it was something your brother wouldn’t like?” she questioned him suspiciously.

  “I didn’t even think of him.”

  “But you should have, Yale. It is his house, and whereas I don’t want those poor souls out in the freezing cold, you knew it would upset him. Just as you’ve known what would upset me.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “It isn’t?

  He spread his hands. “What have I done wrong?”

  “Oh, let’s start at the beginning, shall we?” She ticked off on her fingers her counts against him. “You’ve lied to me—”

  “I explained that!”

  “You married me under a false name—”

  “That’s the same as lying to you. They were both the same incident, Sam, you can’t count them twice.”

  “You bedded me,” she said, as if he’d triggered her memory. “And then told me you were going to leave me.”

  He threw his shirt down on the chair. “Unfair, Sam. I always intended to take care of you.”

  She ignored his protests. “Then you dragged me to London and your family, and you won’t even be here for dinner this evening when I have to meet them all.”

  “What?” He made a face. “What are you talking about? Are you saying you are in this pet because I’m not going to be there for dinner this evening?”

 

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