by Sarah Winn
Practicality overcame Bill’s panic. “But you owe me expenses for the last week.”
Coyler surged to his feet, holding his cane by the staff, leaving the golden handle to look suspiciously like a weapon. “You’ll not get another penny from me.”
Bill’s self-protective instincts made him jump to his feet and step behind his chair. Old Fanning finally came out of his stupor. “Mr. Coyler, please control yourself.”
Coyler turned toward the solicitor and shook his cane at him. “You’re the one who hired this man.”
Fanning started to babble. “He came highly recommended. He was a member of the Metropolitan Police Force before he went into private practice.”
“Yes, and he was fired for being too friendly with the felons he was supposed to be policing. I found that out in about ten minutes. Why the hell couldn’t you?” Coyler lowered his cane and shook his head. “You are either a crook or an idiot. In any case, you no longer work for me.”
With a loud huff, Coyler stalked out of the room.
After a moment of stunned silence, Bill said, “Can I sue him for my expenses?”
Fanning glared at him. “You—you incompetent fool. You just cost this firm our richest client. Get out of my office!”
“Look,” Bill said, “When I was a policeman, I wasn’t hobnobbing with criminals, I was seeking information.”
“Get out!”
So, Bill left the office. Once again, he was being blamed for things that were not his fault. The damn nabobs that ran this world treated everybody else like dirt. As he came out of the office building, he caught sight of old Coyler getting into a big, shiny, black carriage fit for a king. The old bastard was nothing but a coal miner, but he was putting on airs just because he’d gotten lucky and made money.
Well, by God, he wasn’t going to cheat Bill out of what was rightfully his. If everybody thought he was a damn criminal, he might as well start acting like one. He’d find a way to get what that old bastard owed him, and maybe more…a lot more.
Chapter 9
After their solicitor had left them, and because Ellen was familiar with this section of the city, she suggested a tea shop where they might go to have an inexpensive lunch. She had heard Mr. Matthews say he would send his bill through the mail and had immediately began to worry about how much all of her troubles were costing Gerald. While her new husband was from a prominent family and had aristocratic friends, she had seen no evidence that he himself was a wealthy man. In fact, when he proposed, he had said something about selling his property because his riding academy was not doing well.
Nevertheless, once they were seated in the cozy shop, she was so excited over the Magistrate’s ruling that she could not stop chattering about it. She complimented the calm way Daniel’s uncle had handled the matter and giggled over the expression on Silas Coyler’s face once he knew he had lost. She felt some pity for poor Mrs. Coyler, who undoubtedly had a difficult life being married to such a bully, and most of all, she profusely thanked Gerald for the sacrifice he had made to bring all this about.
He seemed amused by her chatter and finally said, “I don’t see having a pretty wife as a great sacrifice.”
She was suddenly embarrassed. Did he really think her pretty? Philip had often said she was, but since his death she had been so involved in finding ways to support her son that she had little time or inclination to think about her appearance. “Ah…well, thank you.”
A waitress brought their tea and a platter of finger sandwiches. As she watched Gerald place several of the small sandwiches on his plate, it occurred to her that this was hardly a proper lunch for a man. “I’m sorry about this shop. I should have realized a man would want something more substantial.”
He shrugged. “This is fine. I had a large breakfast.”
She hoped he was telling the truth. “I suppose you are anxious to return to your business?”
“Right now, we’re in the early stages of training some new horses, so my stable-master can handle them. Is there something you need to do in the city?”
“I left some of my belongings at my former residence, and since it’s not too distant from here, I’m wondering if we might see to shipping them to Hemsley. Besides, Mrs. Watts, my former landlady, was very good to Toby and me, and I know she would like to hear that everything has turned out well for us.
He nodded amiably. “We’ll go there as soon as we finish eating.” Then he popped a small cucumber sandwich into his mouth. As he munched on it, Ellen thought how lucky she had been when she saw the sign that led her to Gerald Osborne for assistance. She owed this man a great debt and intended to do everything she could to repay him. Of course, the most prominent reward a wife usually offered her husband was closed to Ellen, unless Gerald was able and interested in making their marriage something more than in-name-only.
They finished their lunch in a leisurely manner, Gerald even ordered a second pot of tea. After they left the tea room and walked further into her old neighborhood, she began to wonder what Gerald would think of her former home. This was a typical working-class neighborhood, by no means as low as some of the slums in Southwark, but certainly far beneath what he was accustomed to. Shops occupied many of the lower levels of the buildings they were passing, and living quarters occupied the two or three stories above.
Ellen directed him around a corner, and the buildings became more obvious dwellings of not more than two stories. Finally, she turned in at the Widow Watts’s house, which had window boxes filled with blooming, red, and white petunias under the front windows. Ellen remembered how lucky she had once felt to live here.
Gerald knocked briskly at the door. When Mrs. Watts opened it, her face went through a cascade of expressions: pleasure at seeing Ellen, confusion when she looked up at Gerald, and horror when she looked down and did not see Toby. “What’s happened to the dear boy?”
“Everything is all right,” Ellen quickly said. “Toby is safely in the country, and the magistrate has just ruled that I do not have to give him up.”
The older woman’s hands spread over her chest. “Thank the good Lord. Now come in and tell me all about it.”
Her hands had barely come down by her sides when they flew up to her chest again as Ellen introduced Gerald as her husband. Mrs. Watts knew Ellen had not been courting anyone while living with her, so she stared at Gerald with suspicion until Ellen continued to explain his relationship with her former husband and how the marriage had foiled Silas Coyler’s attempt to take custody of Toby.
Gerald interrupted the two chattering women to ask about Ellen’s possessions. “I’d like to make arrangements to ship them to my home. If I could get started on that task, you ladies could finish your conversation at your leisure.”
“Her trunks are in my storage room.” Mrs. Watts gave Ellen an apologetic smile. “I’ve had several people ask about renting, so I’ve been showing the rooms since I didn’t know when or if you’d be back.”
Ellen nodded her understanding, but inwardly shuddered at how close she and Toby had come to being homeless. She was a bit embarrassed when they reached the storage room and she had to show Gerald the two, battered trunks and one leather valise that contained all of her worldly possessions.
Mrs. Watts told him about a neighbor in the next block who owned a wagon and hired himself out as a drayman. “You just tell him I sent you, and he’ll be glad to take the trunks to the railroad station and arrange to ship them to your home for a fair price.”
Gerald left to see the man.
Mrs. Watts led Ellen back to her parlor and once they were seated, she said, “My dear, what a stroke of luck to have found such a fine husband just when you needed him the most. The way you were staying to yourself while you lived here made me wonder if you’d ever marry again.”
Ellen explained how Gerald had volunteered to marry her because old Mr. Coyler was claiming Ellen was an unfit mother. Marrying a respectable man was the surest way to disprove that claim. Then she told
about staying overnight at a duke’s residence and being married the next day in St. Paul’s Cathedral by Gerald’s father, a bishop.”
Mrs. Watts gaped, wide-eyed during that part of the Ellen’s story.
Then Gerald returned with the burly drayman. The man easily loaded the trunks onto his cart parked in front of the house. Ellen and Mrs. Watts watched through a window. As Gerald was carefully writing his address down on a piece of paper the man had given him, Mrs. Watts asked, “Is something wrong with your gentleman’s arm?”
“Ah—he lost his right arm in the war. He’s wearing an artificial one.”
“Goodness,” Mrs. Watts said, “you can hardly tell.” Then she nodded knowingly. “But I guess it’s to be expected. There’s a cloud in every sky.”
A bit put out by Mrs. Watts seeming disparagement of her marriage, Ellen said, “Do you think he married me because he could not do better?”
“I’m sure his motives were nothing but the best, my dear. But he’s a handsome man from a fine family. Without that disability who knows how high he might have married.”
Ellen sighed in resignation. Mrs. Watts was right. Gerald certainly could have married better than a widow with only two trunks to her name, but if she was right about the full extent of his disability, he probably would not have dared to marry a woman from his own class for fear word of his problem would get out. So, Ellen need not feel so beholden to Gerald. Of course, he had done her a great service by enabling her to keep her son safe, but she was filling a need in his life that he might not be able to fill otherwise. This marriage-in-name-only might be a boon for both of them.
After the drayman left, Gerald came into the house and engaged in a few polite remarks with Mrs. Watts, but Ellen could tell he was ready to leave, so she said farewell to her former landlady and promised to give Toby a hug from her. They left the house and rode back to Gerald’s parents’ home on a series of public conveyances. After a pleasant dinner, they retired to separate bedrooms and rose early the next morning to rush to the station and catch an early train.
* * * *
“Mama! Mama!” Gerald watched Toby run toward his mother with his plumb legs pumping so hard that he feared the boy might fall. As Toby threw himself against the front of Ellen’s skirt, she leaned over to steady the chattering boy. “I missed you, mama. But everybody was nice to me. When I was afraid at night, Robbie came and slept in my room.”
She pushed her skirt aside, so she could kneel and look into his eyes. “I missed you too, but I knew you would be well cared for here.”
He gave her a hug, and then glanced over her shoulder toward Gerald. “Did you and the Captain get married?”
“Yes, we did.”
“Do I call him Papa now?”
Ellen seemed surprised by the question. She gave Gerald a quick glance as though wondering what he might prefer, but before Gerald could express an opinion, she looked back at her son and said, “Why don’t you just go on calling him Captain, dear.”
Toby looked a little crestfallen, but he nodded.
Did the boy want to call him Papa? Gerald supposed that would be only natural for a boy who did not have a father in his life. How did Gerald feel about it? He thought of the afternoon walks they had taken before he and Ellen had left for London—about the feel of the small hand hanging on to his—the admiration on the boy’s face as he gazed up at Gerald. He wouldn’t mind if the boy—but Ellen had been quick to reject the idea.
Why? Did she dislike the idea of Toby using that title for anyone other than Philip? Then Gerald recalled the temporary nature of their marriage. In all probability, she wanted to keep Toby’s feelings toward him to a minimum, so the boy wouldn’t be hurt by the annulment which she evidently wanted to pursue in the near future. He should keep that in mind and not encourage a relationship between himself and Toby.
He became aware of people moving around them: Molly and her nanny, footmen seeking luggage, and the earl calling out a greeting. The countess rushed up to Ellen. “Did everything turn out as planned?”
Ellen smiled. “We went to the magistrate’s office yesterday and I was officially declared a respectable married woman.”
“Oh, good! You must come inside and tell me all the details.”
In his booming voice, the earl said, “Give them a chance to refresh themselves, Catherine. You women can exchange news during lunch.”
“We have a long ride back to Hemsley,” Gerald said. “Perhaps we might prevail on you for a packed lunch?”
“Oh, can’t you stay a few days?” Catherine asked.
“I really need to get back to those horses I’m supposed to be training,” Gerald said.
The earl harrumphed. “No need to make a long buggy ride, you can have lunch here and then take the afternoon train. I’ll have one of my stablemen deliver your rig.”
In point of fact, Gerald was not looking forward to that buggy ride. So, he smiled and nodded at his friend.
* * * *
Even with the added time the new travel arrangements gave them, Ellen still had to cut her chat with the countess short, to make sure all of Toby’s clothes and toys were packed. Of course, the hall’s servants were willing to and capable of doing it, but Ellen felt it was her duty to again assume responsibility for her child’s care.
When the time came to board the earl’s private coach for the ride to the station, Ellen hugged the countess and thanked her for all she had done. Then she turned toward Gerald and saw the earl handing him a polished wooden case. Gerald seemed surprised, and for a moment did not move to take the box, but the earl said something else, and Gerald finally accepted it. The earl slapped him on the back, and as Ellen moved closer to them, she heard him say, “Consider it a wedding gift.”
When they were finally seated in a compartment on the train, Toby quickly settled into the seat beside his mother, placed his head in her lap and fell fast asleep. Gerald pulled his valise from under the seat and begin to unfasten the buckle to one of the straps that held it closed.
“May I help you with that?”
“No.” He looked annoyed by her question. “I may be slow, but I can still accomplish simple tasks.”
“I didn’t mean…I was just trying…”
He immediately assumed a contrite expression. “I’m sorry if I snapped at you, but I…I guess my emotions are a bit raw because of this gift Firthley gave me. He pointed at the wooden case. “It’s one of a pair of Colt revolvers. We’ve used them for target practice from time to time.”
“Why would he consider a revolver a wedding gift?”
“When he gave it to me he said, ‘Now you have a family to protect,’ but that was just to get me to take the gun. It’s…sort of a symbol of our friendship. We both carried them in the Crimea, and we both lost ours during the charge.”
“Did Philip carry one?”
Creases formed between his eyes. “No. Only officers.”
Apparently mentioning Philip made him uneasy. But how were they to get on in marriage if they did not understand each other’s feelings? Ellen cleared her throat. “There are a lot of things we need to discuss.”
“Such as?”
“We really haven’t settled any of the particulars of our situation. Today, when Toby asked what he should call you, was a good example. I didn’t know what to say to him.”
He shrugged, but the motion was stiff, lacking nonchalance. “If you don’t want him to think of anyone but Philip as his father, I understand.”
She checked to be sure the boy was still sleeping soundly. “If he does begin to think of you as ‘papa’, and then we go our separate ways, it will be as though he has lost two fathers.”
Gerald gave a curt nod.
“And what about future threats from Silas Coyler? How long must we stay together to be sure he won’t come after Toby again?”
He stared at her for a long moment before saying, “I suppose we should wait at least three months to be sure he intends no further legal action.
Are you in a hurry to leave?”
Now it was her turn to shrug. After a long moment of silence, she said. “I was thinking you might be eager to get on with the rest of your life.”
He shook his head. “For the next year or so, I’m going to be devoting most of my time to a new business venture. If it does not work out, and it very well may not, I will have to make major changes in my life. So, until my business problems are resolved, I won’t be making any other plans.”
“Perhaps I can help you through this period,” she suggested.
“That would be greatly appreciated,” he said, as he began to work on the buckle of the valise again. “I’d better get the gun case in my bag to be sure it doesn’t get misplaced while we’re loading and unloading luggage.”
She turned to look out the window at the passing countryside. Nothing had really been settled between them, but at least, she no longer felt as if an urgent deadline was hanging over her.
Chapter 10
As often happened when his sleep was disturbed, Toby was whiney and uncooperative when they reached Hemsley. Ellen had to carry him from the train as Gerald made several trips back and forth to retrieve all their luggage. A porter finally came to help them get it all moved into a hackney.
The shadows of the late summer afternoon made the narrow, tree-lined lane that led to Gerald’s home seem dark and gloomy. When they reached the red brick house, all the front windows were dark, but lamplight showed from some of the windows in a wing of the house that extended from the back corner of the main building. After they had exited the cab, Ellen had to persuade Toby to walk on his own, but he clutched one side of her skirt so tightly that she found walking toward the house difficult.
While Gerald was still attending to the luggage and paying the hack driver, the older male servant, whom she had met when she first came to Gerald’s home, opened the front door. He looked at Ellen with surprise, and then rushed past her to help with the luggage. “Here, Captain, I’ll take those. We didn’t know when you were coming back.”