by Sarah Winn
Waving Jim on, Gerald stopped and asked, “What’s this, are you and Toby eating by yourselves?”
“No, I asked the young gentlemen to have lunch and have put them in the breakfast room.”
“Gentlemen?”
“Mr. Pickering came for his riding lesson and brought a friend. It seemed rather callous to call our men in for a meal and send them back to the village for theirs.”
Gerald nodded. “I forgot all about Pickering. And he brought a friend?”
“Yes, a nice young man who’s also interested in fox hunting. You wash up and join them. Maybe you can recruit a new student.”
Gerald hurried to obey. When he joined the two guests, he was introduced to Mr. Floyd Buttress, a young man whose father was in woolens. With a few casual questions, Gerald learned Mr. Buttress was not only interested in riding lessons, but also in the purchase of an appropriate hunter. Gerald suggested he take a look at the chestnut with a star who was showing much promise.
Ellen arrived with a pitcher of chilled cider. As she was pouring mugs for everyone, she said, “You got a letter this morning, Gerald. I left it in your office.”
“Thank you, my dear.”
* * * *
After clearing all the dishes from the breakfast room table, Ellen returned to the pantry where she had lamp chimneys from all the ground floor rooms spread out on the work area. She hoped to get the soot wiped from inside each one before Toby got up from his afternoon nap. It was getting harder and harder to get that boy to take a nap. If he stopped taking them all together, she didn’t know how she would get any housework done.
Gerald came into the room wearing a somber expression. He held out a sheet of paper and said, “This is the letter I received. I think you better read it.”
He looked so serious that her hand trembled a bit as she reached out to take the letter.
Captain Osborne,
I want to thank you for taking on the care of my grandson, and I’m sorry I caused the boy’s mother such a fright. I hired a man to look for her, and he gave me bad information in an attempt to get more money out of me. I’m not making excuses for myself, but I did what I did because I honestly believed the boy was not being properly cared for.
I’ve made two big mistakes in my life. The first one was driving my son away from his mother. The second was trying to take my grandson from his mother. My wife Bess is as good as a wife can be, but she’s lost two children, and now she thinks she’s lost any chance to know her only grandchild. All this has broken her heart, and I worry for her health. I’m asking permission to bring her to your place so that she can meet the boy and have some future contact with him.
I promise you I have no intention of causing you any further legal problems. I know I owe Toby’s mother an apology and will be happy to give it in person if you can convince her to see me and Bess. I remind you that I’m a wealthy man and can help the boy in many ways.
We are currently staying in the Metropolitan Hotel in London, but we will be returning to our home in northern England by the end of this month. If you can persuade your wife to at least let my poor wife know the boy, I will be in your debt.
Silas Coyler
She dropped the paper as if it had burned her hand. “Of course, you will say no.”
He propped one shoulder against the door frame. “We should think this over carefully.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What is there to think about? The man drove his son away, and now he wants mine. And who knows what demands he would place on Toby if he gets close to him?”
“He just wants to visit the boy.”
“That’s what he says,” she punctuated her words with her forefinger, “but we cannot trust him. He’s heartless. Look how he kept Philip from corresponding with his own mother.”
“He admits he made mistakes in the past, and now he’s most concerned for Mrs. Coyler. The poor woman is broken-hearted to have lost her son and now her grandson. He fears for her health.”
Ellen remembered the sound of the woman sniffling in the magistrate’s office. Then she reminded herself that Mrs. Coyler had been there in full support of her husband’s attempt to take a child away from his mother. She stiffened her spine with resolve. “He’s just saying that to get our sympathy. I don’t want that man anywhere near my son.”
Gerald stared at her for a long moment before saying, “Is that fair to Toby?”
“What do you mean?”
Does Gerald actually sympathize with the Coylers?
“It can mean a lot to a child to have grandparents, and a wealthy man like Coyler can do a lot for his only grandson.”
Ellen’s mouth dropped open. Money! She should have known. Gerald was having financial difficulties, she and Toby were causing him additional expense, and old man Coyler had a fortune. Did he wish for Coyler to take on some of the cost of raising Toby or did he have higher hopes? Perhaps he thought he could get enough money from Coyler to solve all for his money problems?
Would he do something like that? Fear washed over her as she stared at Gerald, wishing she could see beneath his guarded expression and know what he was really thinking.
He must have sensed her alarm, for he stepped toward her and reached out to lightly rest his hand on her shoulder. “Of course, it’s your decision to make. If you’re sure you don’t want them coming here, I will immediately write and tell him not to come.”
Ellen gave her head a forceful nod. “I am sure I do not want him coming here.”
Gerald returned her nod, but he didn’t look happy about it. He picked up the letter and left the room. Ellen began to absently-mindedly wipe one of the chimneys. Was Gerald right? Was she denying her son the benefits a wealthy grandfather could supply? What would Philip say if he were here? He certainly wouldn’t want his father to have any control over his son’s life. But what about his mother? Philip had loved her. But in the end, she had gone along with the father’s edicts and denied her own son. Neither one of the Coylers could be trusted.
That evening, after Toby was tucked into bed, Ellen went to join Gerald for dinner. His first comment as he held her chair for her was, “I wrote the letter to the Coylers and Mr. Moore will post it Monday morning, when he picks up supplies for the kitchen.”
Ellen felt a wave of guilt over the way she had spoken to him earlier. “I’m sorry I was so curt with you this afternoon. You were just trying to discuss the matter rationally, and I let my emotions get the better of me.”
As he sat across from her, he said, “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
“No, but I certainly don’t want you to think that you can’t express your opinion when we discuss family matters.”
“And I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to usurp your authority where Toby is concerned. I realize I’m not his father.”
Now she really felt terrible. “You’ve been very good to him, and you were just thinking of his long-term welfare, but I can’t trust Silas Coyler. As far as I’m concerned, the man is a snake.”
He nodded. “I can understand why you would feel that way.”
She bent over her plate, not sure what to say next.
Gerald interrupted her thoughts. “I forgot to tell you that I found out they sell violin strings in the local bookstore.”
“What?”
He leaned to one side as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, paper packet. “Is this the right kind?”
She took the packet from him, opened one end of it, and slid out the folded over string. “Oh, yes! And it looks of good quality, too.”
“I wasn’t sure, so I just got one, but you can get more whenever you need them. And the man who sells them said there’s some kind of orchestra here in Hemsley that you might like to join.”
“Orchestra? I can’t play in an orchestra. What if Mr. Coyler heard of it?”
Gerald frowned for a moment. “He didn’t say ‘orchestra,’ he said, ‘ensemble—string ensemble.’ They
practice in the winter and give a concert in the spring.”
Oh, my, that sounded heavenly. Much better than playing reels in a noisy beer garden. “Do you think I could do that without drawing censure?”
“Mr. Pine said other women play in the group and a cleric is the leader. I can’t see anything wrong with that.” Gerald pulled a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. “This is the name and address of a woman who can give you more information about the—the ensemble.”
She reached out and caught his hand in both of hers and held it while she said, “Thank you.” Then she took the scrap of paper and tucked it in her skirt pocket. Gerald always thought about the welfare of others. How had she ever for one moment doubted his motives when it came to the Coylers?
Wanting to change the subject, she asked how Toby’s riding lessons were coming along, and Gerald began to brag on how well the boy was doing. He really was the best of step-fathers, and she had been quite territorial about Toby this afternoon. Gerald had done so much for the boy, he had a right to express his opinions about how Toby was raised. She decided that after they went to bed tonight, she would do her best to make it up to him. Maybe he had another experiment he wanted to try.
Chapter 16
In a dark London alley, Bill Blake leaned against the damp brick wall across from the doorway used by employees of the Metropolitan Hotel. He growled with impatience. Why was he even here? Playing up to this stupid woman had been a waste of time and money. He had paid a porter two-shillings to get an introduction to the maid the hotel had assigned to the Coylers, and then had taken the woman out night after night for what? News that Coyler’s old woman had taken to her bed and the man was sitting by her side every day. There was no way Bill could get his revenge against Coyler under these circumstances.
He ought to forget the whole damn thing. And do what? Dory had gotten tired of him being elsewhere every night and had taken up with a barman in So-ho. The faithless whore. Bill had nowhere to go. He might as well make Jennie pay for all the ale he’d been buying her. Of course, she’d been putting him off by saying she lived at home with her mother. That was probably a lie, and if it wasn’t, so what? Mom could sleep alone for one night.
The chattering of women’s voices drew his attention to the doorway. Three women came out of the hotel. They had all forsaken their black maids’ uniforms for brightly colored dresses and shawls. Bill stepped forward into the light, and one of the women separated from the other two and started toward him.
“Sorry to keep you waitin’, luv, but I had trouble getting away from the Coylers tonight,” Jennie said.
“The old woman having another sinking spell?” Bill asked with a sneer,
“No, indeed. The mister decided they would go and see their precious grandchild, and the missus got up and started bustling about. Near ran my legs off, she did.”
“But you said they got a letter saying not to come.”
“They did, but the old man ain’t one to take no for an answer. Said he doubted the child’s mother could deny Mrs. Coyler face-to-face.” She grabbed his arm and tugged him in the direction of the nearest pub.
When he did not move, she looked at him with a frown. “I can’t stay late tonight. I promised to be in early in the morning to finish the Coyler’s packing, so they can catch the afternoon train. The mister promised me an extra tip if I did.”
“Where are they going?” Bill asked.
She shrugged. “Some little town north of London.”
“Hemsley?”
“Yeah. You been there?”
“As a matter of fact, I have.” He pulled free of her. “You better go on home, since you gotta get up early tomorrow.”
He started walking away, and she called after him. “Wait! We can have one drink.”
“Not tonight, sweetheart.” Without looking back, he continued toward the main street. This was the chance he had been waiting for. With the Coylers out of the hotel and moving around, Bill would have a chance to get at the old man. If the old bastard bulled his way into his grandson’s life, that might be the very opportunity Bill was looking for. The boy must be living on that horse farm Bill had visited when he was looking for the mother. With all the trees and bushes on that place, it had been easy to move around without being seen. Grabbing the kid and making Coyler pay to get him back would teach that old bastard not to cheat an honest workman.
But if Bill was going to take advantage of this opportunity, he needed to get to Hemsley on the morning train and get Zeke lined up to help him. This would be a two-man job, if Bill wanted to make sure his neck didn’t get stretched.
Just before he turned the corner, he looked back at the flabbergasted Jennie who was still staring after him with one hand propped in her hip in the traditional pose of an angry woman.
“Good luck on getting a big tip out of that tight bastard,” he called back to her.
Chapter 17
Ellen was pressing little balls of cookie dough onto a baking sheet, when she glanced up and saw Toby passing down the hallway as he returned from his riding lesson. His clothes were speckled with bits of straw and his shoes were leaving brown smudges on the wooden floor.
“Stop right there, young man! How did you get so filthy?”
“Uh—I was chasing a kitty.”
“Don’t you take another step until you remove your shoes.”
As he bent over to obey her, Ellen turned to look at the two pans of cookie dough that were ready to go in the oven. How could she take care of Toby and the cookies?
As if she had read Ellen’s mind, Mrs. Moore rose from her chair and came toward her. “I’ll bake those. You go ahead and see to the boy.”
With a sigh of relief, Ellen said, “There are two more baking sheets in the oven that should be about ready to come out.”
The older woman nodded. “I know. Don’t worry about them.”
Ellen thanked her and hurried out to attend to her son. Even though Toby’s announcement about sleeping alone had greatly embarrassed Ellen—it had also softened Mrs. Moore’s attitude toward her, making working in the kitchen far more pleasant. Apparently, the older woman’s hostility toward Ellen had stemmed from her concern over Gerald’s welfare. Ellen couldn’t hold a grudge against her for that.
After draining a bucket of hot water from the tank in the laundry room, she herded Toby up to the bathing room on the second floor. While he undressed, she mixed the hot water with cooler water from that tap. Once he was in the tub, she sat on the wooden ledge that surrounded the porcelain tub and supervised the bath, making sure he didn’t miss any spots.
“How was your riding lesson today?” she asked.
“I rode Sunshine all around the paddock holding onto the reins by myself.”
“My goodness! You’ve learned to lead him quickly.”
“Well—sometimes he goes the way he wants to.”
Ellen tried to stifle a chuckle. “I’ve heard ponies can be that way.”
“But the Captain says I’m doing good.”
“If the Captain says it, it must be true.”
She helped Toby out of the tub and dried him off and then wrapped the towel around his shoulders. “I didn’t bring any fresh clothes with us, so you’ll have to wear the towel back to your bedroom.”
A knock sounded on the door and Alice called, “Mrs. Osborne, you have a visitor.”
Ellen opened the door. “Who is it?”
“She didn’t say, ma’am.”
Ellen wondered why it had not occurred to Alice to ask, but then reminded herself that, strictly speaking, it was not Alice’s duty to open the front door, so Ellen decided now was not the time for a lecture. “If you’ll take Toby down to his bedroom and see that he dresses properly, I’ll see to the visitor. Where did you put her?”
“I left her at the door, ma’am.”
Oh, dear! That was hardly correct. Ellen headed for the front staircase. She couldn’t imagine who would be calling at this time of day. Perhaps it was so
meone wanting to inquire about riding lessons. If it were, she’d have to send them down to the stables. But Alice had said it was a woman. In that case, Ellen should invite her into the house and send for Gerald.
What if it were someone from the Hemsley String Ensemble? Ellen had not had time to visit Mrs. Palmer. Perhaps Gerald had praised her so highly to the man he had talked to in the book store, that the members of the ensemble were anxious to interview her. Leaving the woman standing on the stoop would certainly make a bad impression.
After smoothing the sides of her hair to make sure there were no straggling tresses, she opened the door and stared into the plump, pale face of Mrs. Coyler! Ellen was so shocked that she couldn’t speak.
The older woman did not wait for an invitation inside, but brushed past Ellen and into the entry hall. “Mrs. Osborne, I know you said we shouldn’t come here, but I want to personally tell you how sorry both my husband and I are for the terrible fright we gave you,” Mrs. Coyler said in a rushed voice. “We really believed the boy was not being properly cared for. We only wanted to protect him,” her voice wavered. “Please don’t deny me the right to know my only grandchild. He’s all I have left of my dear son. I’ll do anything you say, if you’ll just let me know him.” Big tears rolled down the older woman’s plump cheeks.
Ellen didn’t know what to do. All her life she had been taught to be respectful of her elders, and this woman looked like her heart was breaking. Ellen glanced at the single-seated buggy in the front driveway and saw the hunched figure of Silas Coyler looking at her. She didn’t like the idea of that man being so close. “Come into the parlor, Mrs. Coyler, and we’ll talk.”
The older woman raised her hand toward the buggy in a questioning gesture. Ellen gave her head a sharp shake, and Mrs. Coyler nodded her understanding. Ellen closed the door and led the woman into the formal parlor. For the first time, she wished she’d left a few more of the porcelain figurines on display to give the room a more prosperous look.